Two young cowboys are given a rope by their father. The father has decided they have not enough food to feed each other. Only two of them can live, not three. But it’s not a father’s right to choose.
He left a rope in their room. They had two beds and a wall of cowboys. They liked shooting each other all day.
It does not matter to me much, so long as I’ve got one to carry on my name. Here you go. The boys spent the afternoon trying to think which one of them deserved to die. They tried to think of the worst thing they’d ever done.
‘You killed a cat. I watched you.’
‘But I didn’t want to. He made me do it.’
‘You’re right, you’re right. That doesn’t count.’
‘And besides, you killed a dog. That was on purpose.’
He didn’t respond.
‘Look, I have the knife. It’s still in the drawer.’
He pulled out a knife from the drawer with the dog collar. The knife was very small. The accused boy sat laid in bed on his back and stared at the ceiling.