I feel deeply sorry for anyone who hasn’t spent a lazy hour at twilight in the American South, because their lives must be something mundane at the very least. It was just after 9 o’clock at night, and yet the sun had only just sunk below the horizon. Dusk has always been and always will remain my favorite time of the day during summer time, because that’s when the storms roll in and you can watch the heat lightning flash across a clear sky. In an hour or so it was high likely that thunder would start to grumble way out in the distance, creeping its way slowly closer to us. Bardstown sits right in the middle of a little mountain range that we affectionately call The Knobs, and every little flash would outline their rolling hills out along the horizon.

 

Madge’s magnolia tree at the entrance to their garden was full of pink blooms, the flowers throwing off their strange perfume. I’ve never been able to accurately describe the smell of a magnolia to someone, but the closest I’ve gotten is black licorice mixed with lemonade. It doesn’t sound like something that should be combined, but the smell is intoxicating in the most wonderful sense of the word.

 

The lightning bugs were just starting to stir, their lights flickering on for the first time tonight. They made their beds in the hearts of the magnolia flowers, and as they awoke they turned the flowers into a million lights that twinkled merrily in the approaching darkness. It was was under this natural-made chandelier that I decided to sit while I gathered my thoughts. Mama’s words of advice weighed heavily on my mind, carving out a pit in the very deepest depths of my stomach.

 

‘You must kill him, my son.’

 

How could she suggest something so drastic? I wasn’t a criminal mastermind, not by a long shot. Surely I’d be caught and skinned alive just for having the gall to smuggle a gun into the jailhouse, let along for murdering a man in cold blood! I couldn’t even shoot a squirrel to keep us fed in the wintertime without crying for it, and yet Mama seemed convinced I could look another human being in the eyes a his immortal soul descended to Hell below. I could see now that even Mama has a spark of wickedness deep within her that matched that of any other man.

 

Still….

 

On the other hand, I did want to hurt him. Badly so, if there were a way to do it without getting caught or killing him. An inconsolable piece of was burning up with rage, wanting to steal his dignity from him as he had done me.

 

This vicious debate back and forth in my mind continued, and I was so preoccupied by it that I didn’t hear Madge until she’d plopped down beside me in the grass. Her hoop skirts splayed out in a lacy halo around her, sending up a cloud of lightning bugs and bluegrass dust. In her hands was two plates of Moss Rebecca’s rhubarb pie. She offers me on of them with a little smile.

 

“Dessert for your thoughts?”

 

My stomach was still knotted tightly, but I took the plate anyway. She’d be even more worried if I’d suddenly stopped eating; I’d already barely touched my supper earlier, and that must have tipped her off that something was up. Maybe I should ask for her advice on this. This was my Madge, after all; I could trust her with anything. “Can I ask your opinion?”

 

“You want a woman’s appearance? How very progressive of you,” she teases with a smile, reaching for my free hand. “Of course, I’d be happy to help. What’s on your mind?”

 

“Well...say someone wronged you. We’ll say they swindled you of everything and then ruined your reputation to make your side of the story lose all credibility. Would killing that person resolve the quarrel, or should you still have to endure the consequences of your actions?”

 

Madge went silent for a moment as she mulled my words over. “My grandfather had a similar predicament, you know. You remember the story, don’t you? He and a local doctor began to argue over who spoke more of the dead languages during drinks at Talbott, and they decided to duel over it. Their first shot missed, and then Grandpa John shot the doctor. Nothing could be done, mind you, and he died on the lawn. In the law’s eyes he’d done nothing wrong, since it was a duel, and so they ruled it an accident. He had to live with that guilty conscience, though. In your case, I’d think the law might side with you. You’re the one who has to live with what you did.”

 

Now it was my turn to be quiet; Madge clearly knew more than she was letting on about the situation. “Did Miss Rebecca tell you?”

 

She shakes her head, giving my hand a squeeze. “I heard you talking with Miss Mina,” she starts carefully, watching my face to make sure I wasn’t going to react badly. When I nodded for her to keep going, she relaxed a little and continued, “I have to say though, despite what happened with Grandpa John and what the law may think, I don’t condone murder. Thou shalt not kill, remember? And God forbid someone catch you or you don’t dispatch him properly; that old hog will squeal faster than you can blink, and they’ll have you strung up somewhere before you have time to finish the Lord’s prayer. The situation was different with the doctor, because while he was a man of great repute he wasn’t a law man. Law men are different; killing them kills you, and it doesn’t matter what they did or didn’t do. I don’t think I can be married to a murderer, Minnie. The repercussions would be intense, you realize that right? If they don’t put you on death row, they’ll lock you up for what is potentially going to be the rest of our lives. I can’t wait forever for you. I love you, but...I just couldn’t do it.”

 

My heart sank at that. Lose Madge? Now that was definitely something I couldn’t do. I gave her hand a tight squeeze, and I was about to give her my answer when she started up again. “However, just as plainly as it tells you not to kill the Good Book also states that thou shalt not commit adultery, and given the circumstances of our relationship and the fact that he’s married—however unhappily—I’d say he’s a likely candidate as an adulterer. In some twisted, convoluted way I guess it could be argued that you were taking an eye for an eye. I can’t begrudge you that.”

 

Silence fell between us then, interrupted only by the occasional chirp of crickets and the rattle of cicadas in the branches above us. Somewhere off in the distance, a coyote started up his nightly song. Travelers from out of town have often told me that a wolf’s howl is a thing of beauty, but a coyote’s is just downright eerie; they sound like crying children. In hindsight, it should probably have been taken as an omen.

 

Without a word Madge stood up beside me, gathering our dirty dishes before she headed around back of the house to the detached kitchen. I tried to grab her hand, to ask her to sit with me just a moment more, but she brushed me off with an air of dismissal before vanishing. I was at a loss now; if I did this Madge would never speak to me again, and she would also possibly turn me in to the proper authorities. If I didn’t, Mama might just do it herself and get caught instead. Either way, I’d lose. I just want to go home and forget any of this had ever happened. Feeling defeated, I hung my head and covered my face with my hands.

 

It was in this position Madge found me when she returned nearly ten minutes later, an uneasy expression on her face. She kept glancing over her shoulder as if she had expected someone to have followed her. Normally she didn’t give two s whether someone was watching her or not, so something definitely wasn’t right here.

 

“Madge? What’re you up to honey?”

 

She tosses one more glance over her shoulder before she sits back down beside me, pulling something wrapped in a red handkerchief from her pocket. Curious, I leaned a little closer to get a better look. Quickly she pulled the fabric away to reveal a—a gun. A Colt Army Revolver, the 1860 model if my memory served me right. My eyes widened as my heart began to pound in my chest. “Madge, what in the hell are you thinking? Where did you get that?”

 

“It was Papa’s,” she explained shortly, shoving it into my hands. It was heavier than expected, its metal freezing cold despite the warm night air. “I took it from his study. Mother doesn’t let us go in and she doesn’t go either, so I guarantee she isn’t going to miss it. Just know that once you use it you can’t ever come back. Do you understand me? You have to run far away, that way no one’ll get you. You can’t let them get you.”

 

I was dumbfounded; even as against this as Madge had been just a few minutes ago, she was still helping me? “Madge, I can’t take this. Where would I even go?” I tried handing it back over to her, but she wouldn’t budge.

 

“California. That’s where all the outlaws go, isn’t it?”

 

“Why would I go all the way out to California, and how would I even get there? It would just be easier to follow the Knobs out east to hide out in Appalachia with the shine runners. As long as I catch an early morning train to Lexington I’m sure I could get myself a horse and ride out that way. You’d be able to visit me, then. Who knows? Maybe a tribe of Indians will take me in,” I joked, making an attempt to simultaneously lighten the mood and change the subject. Madge, however, was not to be distracted.

 

“That’s no good, Minnie. If you really do it, they’ll expect you to hide out in the mountains or the coal fields. You have to go West, and California is as far west as you can get. Haven’t you heard the saying that California is full of whiskey, women and gold? A handsome man like you could go and live a life of luxury there.”

 

“All for the low price of one man’s life and the fate of my immortal soul. I’m not going to do it, Madge. That’s final.”

 

She suddenly seemed relieved, and she threw her arms around my neck to hug me tightly. “Thank God...I was afraid that as soon as I handed you the gun you wouldn’t have hesitated. I’m so glad…”

 

I stared at her in shock, feeling slightly betrayed now. “So that was just a test? Are you serious?”

 

Her grip on me didn’t loosen, although she did tense up a little against me. “I had to be sure. You can’t blame me for that, can you?”

 

I stood up then, my pride getting the better of me. She’d really had the audacity to question my integrity like this so nonchalantly, and it actually hurt to know that she didn’t think so highly of me after all. Unthinkingly, I tucked the old Colt into my pocket. “We can discuss this later. I’m going for a walk to clear my head. Don’t wait up for me.”

 

She furrowed her brow and drew her face into a pout, clearly not pleased at all by this outcome. “Where are you going? Do you realize how late it’s getting?”

 

“Yes, and I’m a fully grown man who is completely capable of walking by himself,” I snapped, my voice coming out far sharper than I’d intended it to.

 

Her shoulders slumped then, and a bit of guilt twisted my stomach. “Look Maddy, I’m...I’m sorry. I just need to go and get some fresh air. I’ll be back later on, so you can wait up if it’ll make you feel better. I love you.”

 

Madge nodded glumly, standing up as well to press a sweet kiss to my lips. I figured I owed her at least that much as an apology, and so I let it linger for a minute or two. When she was satisfied, she stepped back and gave me a small smile. “I’ll wait up for you if you promise to share a bed with me tonight, Minhyuk Lee.”

 

I couldn’t help but to smile at her not-so-subtle invitation. What man could? I leaned down and kissed her cheek on more time. “It’s a promise. I’ll see you soon, honey.”

 

With a pleased smile she headed back inside, and I turned to start down that grand slope of a driveway.

 

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

 

Looking back now, I think I subconsciously knew all along what I was going to get up to that night.

 

At the bottom of the hill I made a left turn, intending on going to the tavern to have a drink or two. Neither Mama nor Miss Rebecca approved of drinking, but sometimes it’s the only thing that’ll soothe a man’s frayed nerves. The temperature outside had dropped by about ten degrees, and the lazy flashes of lightning above me were now accompanied by the rich baritone of distant thunder. The storm was ever steadily creeping closer.

 

Both the tavern and the neighboring jailhouse were nearly a mile away from Federal Hill, and yet it seemed like I’d only blinked once and then I was there. Loud bluegrass music poured from the tavern’s opened doors and windows, periodically interrupted by boisterous laughter from within. es and their escorts for the evening hung around the terrace above, sneaking kisses and perhaps more in the shadows that candlelight couldn’t break up.

 

The jailhouse was a dismally solemn neighbor next door; the squat building’s were all barred and dark, save for the one on the bottom floor where Sheriff Skaggs kept his office. Out front was tied a young black stallion, lazily munching on hay that had been scattered on the cobblestone surrounding him. I guess the old pig’s weight had finally broken his lovely old filly, and this yearling was meant to be her replacement. Poor soul.

 

I’ll never know what it was that changed my direction that night, but next thing I knew I was pushing open the heavy wooden door and approaching Skagg’s desk. “Sheriff.”

 

I just needed closure. Yeah, that was it. I would just ask him a few questions, get an apology if I could, and then I’d head back home to Madge.

 

Surprisingly, he wasn’t drinking tonight; I’d hoped he’d be drunk, because he was far less intimidating when he was inebriated. Unfortunately for me, he seemed to be alert and responsive. My voice got his attention, and once he recognized me a sick grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. What few teeth he had left were rotted blacker than sin, giving him a ghoulish appearance when he smiled. “Well, if it isn’t my pretty little China doll! Did you forget this?”

 

He held up a brassy tube of bright red lipstick, and it felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. It was him after all! I’d been hesitant to believe it, wanting to see the good in him and give him the benefit of the doubt since he was supposed to be a sworn upholder of the law, but here he was flaunting what he’d done to my face!

 

Any trace of shock or anger on my face evaporated, and I mustered up what I considered to be the most flirtatious smile I had for him. He wanted to play games? Alright, let’s ing play games. “Do you still want that kiss, Sheriff?”

 

He broke into another black-toothed smile, scooting his chair back from his desk so he could pat his thigh. “Come a little closer, pretty boy. I can’t take care of you when you’re all the way over there.”

 

Swallowing both my pride and disgust, I made an attempt to sashay my hips as women do when I walked over to him. His hands closed around my waist when I finally got close enough, pulling me down to perch on his knee. I managed a shy little giggle, twirling a strand of my long hair around one finger. The sheriff his lips as he leaned in to kiss my cheek, his breathing suddenly heavier than before. I must’ve been better at this than I had thought.

 

“Are you going to put on your pretty lipstick for me?”

 

no, I thought.

 

“If that’s what you want,” I said with another smile, batting my eyelashes as I’d often seen Madge do. It was my memory of how she teased me that I was relying on now; if it served me well and I could pull off a convincing impersonation of her, this might actually go rather smoothly. I tilted my head to one side, allowing my smile to shift into something a little more suggestive. “Do you have a mirror? Or...perhaps you’d like to do it for me instead?”

 

I was pressed so close to him that I could feel his heart quicken with excitement now—I hate to admit that I kind of hoped he’d suddenly have a heart attack and die due to the excitement—and eagerly he picked up the little tube again. I swept my hair back from my face, holding it out of the way. He probably thought it was to make this easier for him, but the reality of it was that I just really didn’t want him to play with it. The less he actually touched me, the better.

 

Skaggs took his time, his brow furrowing as he focused on the task at hand, carefully painting my lips as if I were some delicate canvas that he was afraid of tearing if he pressed too hard. It seemed to drag on forever, and it felt entirely too intimate for my liking. I’d pictured our confrontation to be intense in an entirely different sense of the word; this wasn’t nearly as exciting as a violent fist fight would’ve been. This was just nauseating.

 

After a minute or so he pulled back to admire his work, and this time I had to work to force a pleasant smile. “How does it look?”

 

“Red definitely looks good on you,” he mused, his eyes hazy with newfound lust. Under me I could feel the telltale hardening of an impatient man rising to the occasion. I shifted uncomfortably in his lap; I was decidedly still very sore, and if I let this go too far it was beyond doubt that the pain would actually make me want to keel over and die. I swallowed hard before making myself gaze up into his eyes. “Well? You gonna kiss me or what?”

 

He regarded me in silence for a moment before he closed his eyes, leaning in in what felt like slow motion. My mind set to racing a million miles a minute, thought after thought popping into my head like exploding popcorn kernels, screaming about how if I didn’t stop myself now I’d be a liar and I’d never be allowed home.

 

Nah. It was too late to turn back now.

 

I drew the gun from my pocket and placed it against his hammering heart, thanking my lucky stars that he couldn’t see it from his angle and seemingly couldn’t feel it through his shirt. His lips settled on mine, moving in an unreciprocated kiss. Now my opportunity was presented on a silver platter, but like an idiot I hesitated. I was frozen solid as panic set in, gripping me tightly in its grasp. Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of fight-or-flight response here? Instead I felt like a deer caught in lantern light. Maybe I should pretend to faint and play dead.

 

I started to pull the gun away so I could put it away when his hand closed around my thigh, not even a hint of subtlety as he slid it higher and higher up. Pure adrenaline flooded through my veins and time almost seemed to stand still as I came to my senses and bolted off his lap, backing up a few feet away from him. Before I knew what I was doing, I had the old Colt cocked and aimed at his chest. “Getting a little handsy, aren’t we Sheriff?”

 

It takes Skaggs a minute for his simple brain to process what was happening, but once it all clicked into place he rose from his chair. I kept the gun trained on him, wanting to be ready in case he charged me or tried to make a run for it. “You son of a . You’re a good actor.”

 

“Watch it Sheriff, that’s my Mama you’re talking about,” I snarled, the same anger that had driven me to punch him the day before now driving me forward until I was toe to toe with him. The end of the barrel pressed into his chest, serving as the only thing standing between us now. This time I made sure he was fully aware of its presence. “Did you really think that badge would protect you from the consequences of your actions?”

 

Incredibly, he began to laugh in my face. “You’re bluffing, sugar. Do you know how many people have tried this on me before? They always come in here, ranting about retribution and waving weapons around to try and intimidate me, but in the end they can’t pull the trigger or the gun was never loaded to begin with! Do you really think you can fool me so easily? Why don’t you just tuck your tail and run along now? The real man here is trying to get his work done.” He gestured toward a stack of papers on his desk before he snorts in mild amusement. “You think you’re going to come in here and shoot me? Yeah, right. That dog don’t hunt, pretty boy.”

 

I smiled pleasantly at him, moving my finger to the trigger. “Oh honey, bless your heart. You really don’t think I’m worth taking seriously, do you?”

 

Skaggs’ eyes widened then, and I could tell he now recognized that he was staring the grim reaper in the face. His face went white as a sheet, and he began to tremble so hard that the end of the gun jiggled back and forth with him. “Wait, no, please—“

 

I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, leaving behind a red lip print before whispering in his ear, “Goodnight, Sheriff. We can have a drink together when I get to Hell.”

 

Skaggs fell to his knees and began to whimper, stuttering out half-formed pleas for his life. The sounds of his distress only filled me with glee.

 

“Sweet dreams, Sheriff.”

 

He managed one last “please!” before I pulled the trigger.