Guardian Angels and Six Shooters


When I was 16 my crazy Jehovah’s Witness father, who had every Louis L’Amour book ever printed, bought 2 Ruger Super Blackhawks, a Ruger Blackhawk and a Ruger .22/.22 Magnum. He had a tie down cowboy holster especial made.(Non cowboys, they are all single action revolvers) Every Wednesday afternoon and every Saturday we went to the Marksman Shooting Range in Germiston, open area, not indoor. There I had to practice quick draw until I was as fast as Billy the damn Kid. He taught me well, I could put a matchbox on my outstretched hand, drop, draw and shoot the box before it hit the ground. Took a long time and LOTS of practice to get that right.  The fanning of the hammer was easy enough with the .22, just also took a lot of practice to become accurate, the .357 a bit harder because of the recoil, and those .44’s? Hell, they bit the back of my hand broken. Then of course my father wanted me to play the Tow-Gun Kid, at my age and weight at the time, firing two .44 Magnums at once proved to be difficult, nearly landed on my arse a few times.
Close calls? One time released the hammer way too early and put a .22 through the holster, was I in shit!? The other time, again too quick with the hammer and creased the toe of my boot … with a .44 Magnum.

My Guardian Angel has been at it for a long time.

My mom took a lot of valium when I was young.

Nosce te ipsum

View the Mexican Horse Thief’s Page

Short Story



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