June 1, 1900
I am Katherine "Kate" Barlow, the only schoolteacher in the town of Green Lake, Texas. I am 22 years old, and am starting to fall in love with Sam, the town's onion seller. He is African American and I am white. Everyone thinks I really should be in love with Trout Walker, the richest man in the town of Green Lake. The town is located on the Eastern shore of the largest lake in Texas. I do not know what the lake is called, but it is full of beautiful greenish water. Peach trees are all along the shore. Most of them are owned by Trout. They make the lake look even prettier in the Spring, with their beautiful pink blossoms. Once every week, Sam rows across the lake, to the Western Shore. He has his onion farm on God's Thumb, a mountain with a formation on top of it that looks like a fist, with the thumb sticking up. A river flows through the onion field, down the mountain. Sam also loves his donkey, Mary Lou. He claims she is almost 50 years old, and even named his rowboat after her. I teach in an old, run-down one-room schoolhouse. I teach kids during the day, and uneducated adults at night. The school year will be over in two weeks. Trout Walker is among them. Tonight, when I was teaching night school, and Sam was fixing the building, when I asked Trout to say "the duck swims on the lake," he said, "the duck may swim on the lake, but my family owns the lake." After class, he asked me if I wanted to have a picnic with him. "No thank you, Mr. Walker," I said. "We can take a ride on my motorboat," he said. "No thank you," I repeated. "Come on girl," Trout said. "No one ever says no to Trout Walker." "I believe I just did," I say.
June 2, 1900
Sam is still fixing up my school. Whenever I ask him to do something, he replies "I can fix that." He has replaced the school door, put blue shutters on the windows, painted the walls, and replaced the roof. Due to the rainy weather, there is no school today. I am having special time with Sam. After our special time, he and I kissed. We did not even notice Trout Walker, outside on his horse. He had an angry expression on his face. He then rode away. When I was falling asleep, with my window open, I could hear the voices of two of my students outside, talking in hushed tones. Brother-and-sister William and Theresa Parker. "Miss Katherine kissed a black man," Theresa said, pure disgust in her voice. At around midnight tonight, I am awoken by commotion outside. I walk outside my door, and cannot believe my eyes. Trout Walker and lots of other men are standing near the schoolhouse, some on horses, holding torches, which they are throwing at the schoolhouse, and firing revolvers. "Stop it!" I yell. No one listens to me. Tears fall down my cheeks. "What are you doing?" I ask the men. I run to the sheriff's office. "Sheriff!" I yell. "Sheriff! Come quick, they're destroying my school!" "Give me a kiss," the sheriff says. "You're drunk!" I yelled. "I always get drunk before a hanging," the sheriff said. "It's against the law for a negro to kiss a white woman." "If you hang him," I say. "You better hang me too. Because I kissed him back." "It ain't against the law for you to kiss him," said the sheriff. "Just for him to kiss you." The sheriff tried to kiss me. I ran outside. The men were still destroying the school. I ran to the boat landing at the end of Main Street, past the Saloon and General Store. "Sam!" I yell. When I get to the boat landing, I see Sam's cart lying on the ground, smoke coming out of it. Mary Lou was lying dead next to it. The donkey had been shot in the head. I could see Sam's rowboat in the distance, closer to God's Thumb than Green Lake. He was obviously trying to escape the events. It's then that hear the loud roar of Trout's mini steamboat. I see Trout and a few of his friends, on his mini steamboat, going towards Sam's boat, which was getting closer to God's Thumb. I see that Trout has his rifle drawn, aiming at Sam. The two boats were now coming toward each other. I gasp. "NOOOOOO!" I yell. Trout fires his rifle at Sam, and Sam falls in his boat, unconscious. "Sam!" I yell, crying. No one answers. I cry even harder.
June 3, 1900
I went to the sheriff's office again this morning, with my blonde hair curled, and wearing a fancy red dress. "Good morning sheriff," I say to the sheriff, who is sitting at his desk, drinking some coffee. "You still want that kiss?" I asked him. He didn't say anything. I took his revolver out of his holster, pointed it at him, and shot him in the chest. Everyone in the jail looked toward me and the sheriff, who was already dead. I applied a fresh coat of red lipstick, and kissed him on his left cheek. I walked out of the sheriff's office, and rode away on a horse that no one was with.
May 17, 1913
Thirteen years have passed since Sam's death. The lake is now in danger of drying. I am now an outlaw, who has robbed banks, trains, and stagecoaches. Everyone calls me "Kissin' Kate," because I kiss every man I shoot, as a way of remembering Sam. I have a group of four big, tough men who assist me. Today, I saw a stage coach, when my thugs and I were out looking for someone to rob, over by God's Thumb. I took my revolver out of its holster, shot the horses, and the stagecoach fell down. I then shot both stagecoach drivers, kissing them on their left cheeks. A man, woman, and baby boy were inside the stagecoach. I shot the woman in her chest, and she fell in the stagecoach. The man cried, and so did the baby. I did not kiss the woman, because I only kissed the men I shot. I never kissed a woman that I shot. I then stole a wooden box from the man. It was labeled "Stanley Yelnats." My thugs and I then got on our horses, and rode away.
August 6, 1920
It has now been twenty years since Sam was murdered. I am now 42 years old, and my blonde hair is going gray. I am living in a small log cabin near where the schoolhouse was. I have not seen any rain in Green Lake. The lake is completely dried up now, and all the peach trees shriveled up and died. Sometimes I can still hear Sam's voice echoing across the empty lake, calling "Get your onions here, folks!" Right now I am at Sam's boat, which is in the same place as it was when Sam was shot, and is now overturned. I am leaning up against the boat. "It's so hot, Sam," I said into the vast emptiness. "But I feel so cold." Then I felt a hand on my cheek. I turned. There, right beside me was Sam. He smiled. "Sam," I said. "I can fix that," said Sam. Just then, I heard someone loading a rifle behind me. Sam looked up. I turned. There was Trout Walker. He had the same rifle that he shot Sam with, pointed at me. "You've got five seconds to tell me where you buried your loot," Trout said, in an aggressive tone. I turned in the other direction, and Sam was gone. A young, red-haired woman was standing next to Trout. I pulled my revolver out of its holster, loaded it, and pointed it at Trout. "I've been waiting for you, Trout," I said. I dropped my revolver. "I ain't gonna kill you," I sighed. "Where's your loot?" Trout demanded. "There ain't no loot," I said. "Don't give me that," Trout said. "You've robbed every bank from here to Houston." The woman picked up my revolver, which was on the ground, and pointed it at me. "We saw you heading back with a shovel, Miss Kath-er-ine," said the woman. I then knew who she was. She was Linda Miller, who had been in the fourth-grade when Sam was shot. She was a beautiful girl with long, shiny red hair. Now her hair was dirty and scraggly. "Linda Miller, is that you?" I asked. "I've been Linda Walker for the last thirteen years," Linda said, proudly. "Oh, Linda, you were such a good student," I said. Trout was counting. "You must have married him for his money." "Well, it's all gone now," Linda said, obviously upset. "It dried up with the lake. It hasn't rained here since the day they killed Sam. Now, you better tell him what he wants, he's a desperate man." "Go on, kill me," I said. "The lake goes on for miles." "We ain't gonna kill you," said Trout. "But, by the time we're finished with you, you're gonna wish you was dead." I laughed to myself. "I've been wishing I was dead for a long time," I sighed. "You, your children, and your children's children, will dig for the next 100 years, and you will never find it." A deadly yellow-spotted lizard scurried out from under the boat and hissed at us. "Look out!" Linda shouted. Trout and Linda both tried to shoot it, but they both missed. It was enough to scare the lizard and make it crawl back in the boat. "Come here, sweetheart," I said, picking the lizard up. "Start digging, Trout," I said. I put the lizard on my right wrist. It sank its teeth into my skin. The pain felt good, from being depressed for so long. I died laughing. I'll be with Sam soon. Trout and Linda walked away, upset