We’re of the name Macalister, now many people respect the name, and some are fearful of the name. It was dad that won the attitudes for our name, for many years he was a cop in the local Texas town.
He’d put the cretins behind bars, that had scared the hell out of the people in our Texas town. He’d received commendations by the Governor for bravery, these he’d just throw in a box and forget about them.
I know he joined a long list of other officers, that either gave their lives in the line of duty, or was fortunate enough to come out alive. But to this day he can still kick like a mule, and punch with the force of a sledgehammer.
I helped to a degree in the building of the family name as did the others. I tell you this not to brag, but to set the legend straight.
They came to us in the early spring of 75, I know this to be true cause my father was in the hospital. He had smoked for years, and the cancer had taken hold of him. The they I’m talking about was two Labradors. A mama and her pup, both black as coal.
They showed up while I was waiting for my grandmother to come after my little brothers, and my sister. We had no idea, how long dad was going to be in the hospital, so she was going to look after them. This was going to free me to do the things around the farm.
The kids came running in all excited, I told them to quiet down. If you really know kids, you’ll know they don’t like to take orders from a big brother. I stepped outside to see what they were all excited about, and to shut them up. (I was getting a headache.) Thankfully they quieted down.
The mama dog walked over to me, waggin’ her butt instead of her tail. I have to admit she was beautiful. The pup had a messed up lip, it looked to me like some sorry bastard had kicked him in the mouth.
I knelt down and looked at the mama’s teeth, I figured her to be not more than three years old, the pup, was about six months old. My first thought was: I need to get rid of these two dogs. With dad being sick, it was going to be hard enough caring for the livestock and putting food on the table for us.
We all heard the horn honking and the kids ran to Mamaw, to tell her about the new dogs. She took one look at the dogs, and gave me a knowing look. I knew what she was trying to tell me, and I nodded my head in agreement.
Mamaw took the kids inside, to finish packing their clothes, while I ran the dogs off. To tell you the truth, I hated to do it. I guess I wasn’t as grown up as I thought, I was only fifteen and deep down I wanted to keep them too.
I was talking to the dogs, telling them to be on their way, when I heard Mamaw yell. Something in her yell made ice run down my spine. I ran back to the yard, being sure not to make too much noise. I could hear the men talking.
“We want food lady don’t try anything cute.” one said in a very dark and evil voice.
I couldn’t quite see their faces, but what I did see made me mad as an agitated bull. I could clearly see the red mark on Mamaw’s face. The one that had spoken, grabbed my youngest brother, and stuck a gun to his head. The mama dog growled low, I gently put my hand on her nose, and whispered for her to be quiet.
I pulled my pistol and worked my way behind the two men.
Mamaw saw me first, I’m not real sure, but I think she smiled.
The pup bolted and ran snarling and growling, he jumped and caught the man in the center of the back knocking him roughly to the ground. They fired a shot at the pup and just missed him by inches as he ran around the house. If it hadn’t been so serious I’d have sat down and had a good laugh. But it was deadly serious.
My family was always worried about my sense of humor, among various other things. My temper was usually at the top of the list.
I cocked the hammer back, “Back the hell off. Now!” I said as I stepped into view.
They were mad clean through, and they were glaring their hate directly at me. “Ya’ll okay?” I asked my family.
They nodded that they were.
“Which of them bastards done that Mamaw?” I asked my anger growing hotter by the second.
“I’m okay Bill.” she said as she rubbed her cheek.
Little Joe was about as spunky as any six year old, I had ever seen. He picked up a rock and threw it at one of the men, “He done it Billy. He done it!"
I walked up to the man, my pistol still in my hand, “So you like to hit on women?” I said in a low voice. “Son-of-a-goddamn bitch!” Quick as a snake, I punched the man in the mouth, knockin’ him flat on his ass. I felt as big as a mountain knockin’, that big bastard on his ass like that with only one punch.
I quickly fired a shot at his friend’s feet, “That was a reminder that I still have this. My first instinct, is to gut shoot the both of you, and feed you to the hogs. You’re lucky I’m feeling charitable today, I’m just gonna send you to jail.”
Thing was I was serious. I wasn’t just trying to put a scare in them. In my family’s eyes I was weird enough, without giving them even more ammo to use.
I heard Mamaw gasp, and the kids yelled, then I felt a heavy whack to the back of my head, the last thing I remember was my pistol bucking in my hand.
I have no idea how much time had passed I awoke to the cold damp cloth on my forehead, and Mamaw’s gentle touch on my face, “Bill come-on honey wake up.” she pleaded. I remember I muttered a curse, then I heard her voice again, “Bill, please wake up!”
I opened my eyes, somehow Mamaw had gotten me into the house, and on the sofa. “What happen?” I asked. The look in Mamaw’s, eyes told me I had failed, in protecting them. “Mamaw what happened?” I asked again, as I tried to sit up. But suddenly wishing that I hadn’t tried that so fast.
“They took the babies.” she said softly.
I could see the tears rolling down her face, “You killed one of them Bill, that big lab ripped the throat out of another.”
I was standing by then I was still a bit shaky, “Need to call the Sheriff’s department.” I said, as I reached for the phone.
She gently put her hand on my arm, “They cut the phone lines.” She said bitterly. Her eyes telling me there was so much more to all this.
I felt sick, and my head felt as if it was about to split wide open. ” Maybe you could use the car and. . .”
“They shot up the tires, and the engine block.” she said cutting me off.
I put my hand to the back of my head, and looked to see if there was any blood. There wasn’t. “Do you know how to use a radio, Dad set one up in the back room.”
Mamaw nodded her head, “You gonna be okay?” she asked.
I slowly nodded my head, and she rushed to the back room. I hated deceiving her but I felt this whole mess was my fault. I calmly went to my parents room. I reached under the bed, and pulled out the wooden box.
I gently caressed the pistol, with the ivory grips, I opened the cylinder and loaded the 44 with the shells from my belt. I walked back to the living room, and paused looking at the family photo before leaving the house.
I went out to the barn and saddled Dad’s horse, Ricky. I knew I’d need a horse that wouldn’t tire as quickly as mine. I called to the Mama dog, “Okay girl, I need you to help me find them.” I said quietly.
She whined softly then barked. I swung into the saddle just as Mamaw came out to the barn, “Bill! You can’t do this. This is a matter for the law.”
“No ma’am,” I said in a firm voice. “them are my brothers and my sister-Dad wouldn’t wait for the law, so neither am I. Besides, it was me that failed in protecting my family. . . now it’s me that’s gotta set things right again.”
She stepped aside as I rode Ricky out of the barn, “Bill.” She called out softly.
“I gotta set things right.” I said once again. “Come-on girl.” I called out to the lab. I turned and looked at the pup. “You stay here boy, take care of Mamaw.”
Mamaw stood and watched as I set out to do a man’s job, I didn’t know it until it was over, but she had smiled, and had said a prayer for me.
I had no idea what I was going to do, when I found the men that took my kin, but I knew I would not return home without my family.
The mama dog seemed to understand my needs, she would stop from time to time and sniff the ground, and then change directions. Being on foot they made good distance, at first I thought the mama dog may have been on the trail of a rabbit. Then I saw my sister’s scarf, on the branch of a mesquite tree. “Okay-Lizzie, way to go kid.” I said excitedly.
“The kid has a lot of guts.” The deputy said to Lady Lane. “Those guys that took the children, are career criminals. They were with a group from the prison, working not far from here. They saw their chance and killed a guard. . . caved in his head.”
Mamaw looked from one deputy to another, Knowing that they weren’t telling everything. But then again neither was she. “Bill isn’t exactly your average fifteen year old. . . he reads a lot of westerns, and some may think he’s not quite right in the head. But he’s a good boy.”
“We’ll keep that in mind ma’am, have you contacted the parents?” a deputy asked.
“Yes. I got word to them, but they don’t know that Bill, has gone after the children.”
“Someone will tell them. . .” the deputy replied softly.
Lady Lane knew of a few other people that would also have to be contacted. People that she’d hoped they would never have to see again. Boris Stokes, Bill Wilson and a very selected few.
Nothing had been said, but that old feeling was burning inside her gut. This wasn’t just a by chance prison break. This was another message from him. It was just his way of saying that they were all still very much in his thoughts.
The last time was when Brenda Stokes was killed. There were other little incidents. Little things that people thought were just tragic accidents.
But those with half a brain knew exactly what it was.
God. Would they ever be rid of that evil bastard?
Not if the system continued to lean further and further to the left.
It never mattered anymore if a person caught somebody red handed committing a crime, Some shithead lawyer could get them off the hook, with a lot of double talk, or asking the homeowner if they had a problem with people of a different race.
“You must have since these boys happen to be Black, and you’re pointing a finger at them.”
“I’m pointing a finger at them because they’re the ones I caught in my home.”
“They were taking a few things because they were hungry, and they were going to sell the stuff to get food.”
“No, they were stealing because they’re fucking lowlifes!”
The judge banged his gavel to quieten the courtroom, and to tell the man to watch his language.
It just went from bad to worse, the punks were somehow made out to be the real victims in the matter, being poor is not a crime. They were not hurting anyone.
All across the country it just got worse. Punks were suddenly the victims no matter what the color of their skin. “Hey, your daughter should not have been wearing tight jeans, that drew attention to her behind, and my client noticed and that was why he attacked her. It is her fault that this happened. Her fault because she fought back, if she’d just gave it to him, it would have been over.”
Yeah well, fuck you and the system too.
Nobody was ever going to be safe ever again, the system was failing and those running for office were just as bad as the criminals. Always an excuse to get the vote to stay in office, to ignore the victims and to place the entire blame on society.
It was becoming so sinful for hardworking people to have so much more because they worked their asses off to get it.
The poor should be coddled at all times, they must get the free ride no matter what it costs the hardworking people.