Laura’s backstory (The Sheriff of Dry Creek)

“Get away from the window Laura.” Luke locked the door and shooed me away. He and David peered out. I pushed my head back up enough to get my eyes above the window sill, and there I saw Mama and Papa, standing on the other side of the street. I wondered why they didn’t stay inside the bakery, but now that I think about it, they were probably just going to run home to make sure we were safe. At the same time Mama and Papa ventured from the bakery, a girl, maybe three or four, ran out into the street. Later I learned that her name was Annabelle. She was lost and frightened by the noise, so she ran to the only place she knew: the church.

A bullet crashed through the window on the other side of our door. Luke pushed us away from it and closed the curtain. I grabbed the rifle and unlocked the door when Luke and David weren’t looking. I cracked it open and peeked out. One of the men in the brawl I recognized. He disliked Papa, and now, burning with rage, he saw his chance. To me, it was all in slow motion, though it all happened in a few seconds.

Papa saw the child stumbling across the street, and he ran after her. He swooped her into his arms, Mama behind him. BANG! Papa’s eyes opened wide, and he stumbled forward. As he fell, he put the terrified child in Mama’s arms. Screaming, my brothers and I rushed out of the house. We gathered around him, lying face down, blood pouring from the hole in his back. There was nothing we could do.

It would’ve been easy for our family to fall apart that day. Our stunned grief followed us wherever we went. It was a feeling we couldn’t shake, a weight we had to carry every day. Every morning we rose to lift that weight, but over time we got stronger, and the weight that seemed so heavy at first got a little easier to bear.

Mama was the strongest of us all. She held tight to God and saw to it that we helped each other through our grief. It hurts to think about that day, and the days following, but it was one of the most important parts of my life.. This event and the actions of my parents shaped me into who I am today, and as I grew older and approached the age of independence, I thought of my family when I thought of who I wanted to be. Like my father, like my mother, I wanted to do something important with my life. I just wish I knew earlier that the important things in life aren’t the big things, but the small ones. It wasn’t my father’s death that changed me, but how he lived every day of his life until the last moment.