Shoot Like a Girl by Kari Bovée

Author:Kari Bovée
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Annie Oakley
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2018-09-18T23:10:25+00:00

Chapter Eight

I’d struggled through the rest of the winter, managing not to speak a word to the McCrimmons. I’d saved all my conversation for Buck, and he’d endured an earful. If Mrs. McCrimmon asked me a question, I would gesture my answers or simply glare at her. She’d smack me across the face or punch my arm, but I still didn’t utter a word. If Mr. McCrimmon so much as glanced my way, I’d raise whatever I had in my hands—a knife, kindling, a pitchfork—and look at him with murder in my eyes.

At night, when they were sleeping, I’d take his shotgun down from the mantel and hold it in my hands, imagining myself aiming it at them and them pleading for mercy. Some nights, I would slip it under my blanket and sleep with it nestled against me, just waiting for the day Mr. McCrimmon came for me again. I would always make sure to wake before them and put the gun back in its place.

I also spent a lot of time daydreaming about my escape. My thoughts of murder had gradually faded away, as I knew that killing them would give me only a moment’s satisfaction, and then I would have to live with that sin on my soul. Additionally, I had come to the realization that escaping during the winter would have been a mistake. I was miles from the nearest town, and I didn’t have the proper clothes to be out in the cold weather for long.

When spring finally arrived, the ground was slow to soften. The trees struggled to bud with late snowstorms and ferocious winds. The winter had not been kind to the McCrimmons, and our food stores had diminished. We existed on potatoes and vegetables from last summer’s garden, and gruel.

In time, the world began to thaw. The sun regained its strength, and with the return of the birds and squirrels, so did we. Mrs. McCrimmon always sent Mr. McCrimmon out to hunt, but more often than not, he would end up behind the barn with his jug or traveling to town to fill his jug. Unfortunately, he always took his gun, leaving me with my slingshot to target my quarry.

With the warmth of spring, Buck started to lose his winter coat in thick clumps. When I could, I’d go out to his pen and brush his coat with gentle but firm strokes, the light color of his winter coat slaking away to reveal a darker gold beneath. His coat had lost its luster, though. His once-bright eyes had dulled, too. He looked like I felt after suffering from my illness and the lack of proper nourishment. My dress hung on me, and my hair felt brittle to the touch. Even Mrs. McCrimmon had lost the plumpness of her face, and her skin drooped like an old leather pouch.

Uri seemed to have fared the best, and I was glad of it. He couldn’t be blamed for having such despicable parents. My plans for escape often included him now, but I didn’t see how I could manage to take the baby with me.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.