Terror at the Fair

Chapter Five

At last, the time is almost here, Papa. It is easier than I thought to get hold of a live round, a real bullet. Now there’s one rifle filled with blanks, plus one not-so-blank cartridge. Each of the bandits and guards at the pageant is told to aim his weapon directly at one of the enemy. That way, the stagecoach “robbery” will look realistic, and we have got to please all those thousands of people in the grandstands, don’t we? They have paid to see adventure, and... well, they’re going to get it, all right, maybe in a way they never expected, although the real bullet may never hit anyone, which means I would have to try it again.

I’m more nervous than I thought I would be. But I cannot let the nerves rule me, not now. When I was young, Papa, you always told me to be strong, to suppress my emotions, lest I be seen as weak. When you were young, you had to be strong, I know, even if you never talked to us very much about those bad times.

In the end, they broke you, but it was an unfair fight, with small people resorting to small behavior. You were worth any five of them, Papa, and you will be avenged. I am not weak, although others may think so. I am not afraid, although I do feel nervous. But I also feel joy in knowing I feel closer to you at this moment than I have felt in a very long time.

I am thinking of Mama, too, and of the pain she has endured at the hands of the small people.

I wish you could be up in those grandstands today to see just how much your son loves you. My hands are steady now, and I can only hope the same is true of the one who will fire the weapon that sets in motion our journey of reprisal.

I am no longer nervous now. I feel a calm, a sense of peace…