THE OUTLAW AND BRIDE....FICTION BY NICK B

Borned  Jesse W. James Jr. to the notorious outlaw and wife Zee in Kearney, Missouri. Times were hard living in the 1800's. Men lived and died by the gun. All men carried a gun on their hip, a Colt 45 ruled these early frontier days.


During Jesse Jr. early days his father wasn't around to see his only son grow up. He missed all those first time events in a child's early years. Jesse Sr. was always on the run from the law and it would have been stupid on his part to be around his family. Some how Zee James made life for young Jesse as conformable as possible. She did sewing at her home and would receive money from Jesse Sr. from time to time to keep their small ranch going.



When Jesse Jr. started school in the one room building in the center of town, the other kids already knew of Jesse Jr's heritage. Being the son of the well known outlaw the kids would ridicule and made jokes of young Jesse. Even from those early years he would be branded for life because of his father's deeds.



Jesse would come home from school, battered, bruised, and bloody from trying  to defend himself from the bullies at school. Zee told Jesse not to get into fights, the kids will get to know you in time and will like you. Deep down Jesse knew in his heart he would always be looked down on because of his father's legacy.
During those early years Jesse grew up fast and tempered by the hard ordeals with those at school. At age 13 he was tall, strong and handsome. Jesse decided at this time he didn't want to be called Jesse Jr. anymore. I will be known as Wayne James from here-forth.
Zee's brother, Wilbur Ray, Wayne's uncle had become his father figure and was teaching the youngster how to shoot and handle a gun. Wayne and Wilbur didn't want Zee to know he was learning to use a gun. Why boys his age were already homing their skills with the gun. Wilbur knew that he would need these skills with the gun later in life to survive. Wilbur had gave Wayne an old Colt 45 that was a great handgun. Wayne's skill with the Colt came easy without much effort. Wilbur would set 6 whiskey bottles on fence post and tell Wayne to draw and shoot. In a matter of seconds he would draw and shoot breaking 5 out of the 6 bottles. Wilbur wasn't satisfied with these results.  " You must practice until you can break all 6 bottles." The Colt in Wayne's hand seemed as if it was a magical gun with it's speed and accuracy.
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