Red, 1965

He entered the dark house through the unlocked kitchen door, his house until the separation, found his way down the dark hallway to the bedroom, hid in the closet, the door slightly open to a clear view of the room in the half-light of a full moon. Sweaty clothes piled on the closet floor didn’t matter; he had other business. He settled in for a long wait, almost nodding off, staying awake by rocking toe to heel in his Redwing boots, left arm cramped from gripping his gun. He could have laid it on the floor, but he might not have been able to find it in the dark, so he held it, and waited. Soon enough. there was laughter in the kitchen, metallic sounds of ice dropped into glasses, ardent whispers growing louder as they moved to the bedroom, dancing a bit, arms around each other. She turned on the bedside lamp. Red removed her blouse; she unbuttoned his shirt, let it fall to the floor. He kicked the closet door open, stepped into the room, raised his gun and shouted, “It’s my turn to dance.” Red turned... Two bullets pierced his chest. He fell backwards onto the bed, rolled off to the floor, didn’t move again. The shooter stood quietly, relieved and satisfied, watching his wife kneel beside Red’s body. He sidestepped them, switched off the light at the open door, turned to look back, said to himself, “That’s done... I need a drink.” The murder was ruled justifiable homicide. He was set free. That’s the law down here in Texas. The applicable Texas law was written in 1856, and stated that, “Homicide is justifiable when committed by the husband on anyone taken in the act of adultery with the wife, provided that the killing takes place before the parties to the act of adultery have separated.” Texas law considered these murders justifiable homicide, and completely excused the killing. The law was repealed in 1973. Paraphrased from “Law in Western United States,” by Gordon Morris Bakken