She stepped slowly as she reached the top of the stairs. “Ugh – I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she thought for the millionth time.

    She walked carefully on the uneven wooden surface, worried she’d trip or her knees would buckle from being so scared and nervous. When she was standing next to the hangman she closed her eyes, nodded a few times rapidly, and then lifted her chin to show she was ready for the noose.

    He eased the rope over her head, pulled her braided pony tail out from inside of the noose, and pulled it snug around her neck.

    The rope was thick, with prickly hairs that tickled her bare skin. She opened her eyes. Standing high on the gallows platform she could see people milling around in the town square. A wave of shock came over her about being naked in front of so many people – she was wearing nothing but sheer thigh-high stockings and dangerously high heeled shoes. Instinctively she tried to cover herself, and she felt the solid grip of the ropes that tied her wrists tightly behind her back. She took a deep breath from frustration. These were feelings she never got used to.

    “Does the rope hurt your neck?” asked the hangman.

    Lucy nervously shook her head a few times.

    “Then that part wasn’t so terrible, was it?” asked the hangman.

    She shook her head again.

    Then she shrugged her shoulders vigorously. “It itches,” she said.

    “That should go away with time,” he said. “We’ve got a little more setup to get you ready,” he continued. “I’m told this is a two-for-one special.”

    Lucy nodded. Her mom was standing at the bottom of the stairs to the gallows, getting ready to step up.

    “Go right over there so we can make some room for your mother,” he said to Lucy.

    The gallows had two pairs of trapdoors.

    She looked over at the pair of trapdoors where the hangman was pointing. She took a few short, careful steps toward the edge of her pair of doors. The edges of the doors were outlined with industrial-looking diagonal yellow and black stripes. Words were stenciled on each door in white paint: “DANGER – Do Not Bounce or Jump on Trapdoors. Authorized personnel only. May Cause Injury or Death.”

    “Yeah, no shit,” thought Lucy with a grim attitude. She gulped and gingerly eased her right foot down on one of the doors, worried it wouldn’t support her. She knew the doors were latched, and there were safety pins also holding it closed. Still, it had a slight spongy feel that was terrifying. But as she pressed her weight down onto her shoe the door seemed to hold okay.

    She worked up her courage, lifted her left foot, and brought it down by her right foot. Now she was standing entirely on the trapdoor. She paused for just a second to catch her breath and walked forward.

    She had to go about three feet to the exact center of the doors. In the center were markings – someone had used a bit of paint to indicate where she should place the toes and heels of her shoes. Lucy walked toward the markings. When she got there she took her time, carefully lining up the heel and toe of each of her shoes over the top of the marks so she’d be standing at exactly the right spot.  

                 

    She was standing exactly over the gap between the two doors, heels together and toes just apart. Between her shoes she could look down through the seam between the two trapdoors. She imagined she could see the ground below. It looked like a horribly long way down.

    “That’s very good. Now I’d like you to wait there just awhile,” said the hangman. “We still have more to do, and we don’t want our pretty little girl to get bored and wander off. So I’m going to make this rope nice and snug for you” he said to her gently, and patted her ass.

    The rope from Lucy’s neck went to a pulley over her head, and the rope was fastened at the back of the gallows platform. The hangman went to the back of the platform and took up all the slack in the rope.

    As he pulled the rope snug, Lucy raised her chin to face straight ahead. She stood straight and tall, trying to ease the upward tension on the rope. With the rope pulled snug, she couldn’t move even a few inches in any direction if she wanted to. She could see the edge of the trapdoors in front of her. The edge of the doors might as well have been a million miles away, since there was no way she could walk there.

    Lucy stood still. Her heart was still racing. The hangman seemed to sense this.

    “If you feel nervous that’s very common,” he said. “Just remember to breathe deeply.” He kept standing next to her, breathing loud and deeply himself, and making hand gestures from his diaphragm to signify deep breaths.

    She watched him and joined him in deep breathing. He was right — it helped a little.

    “Yes, yes, that’s good!” he said. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

    She nodded.

    He took a moment to admire her form.

    Below her she could see men and women who gathered to watch the setup. The annual Old West Festival in town always drew a big crowd, many dressed up in historical clothing. Lucy thought the men looked handsome in their rugged old west garb. And the women looked terrific in a variety of lovely dresses with frills and lace and bows. Seeing all the beautiful dresses just made Lucy feel more bare and sad. She felt even more frustrated by the ropes that held her wrists and arms behind her back keeping her fully exposed to the crowd.

    Folks in the crowd were looking her over with a mixture of expressions – from amusement to lust to concern and worry. She looked out to the horizon. She could feel the rays from the strong afternoon desert sun – the rays lit up every part of her body. On another day she might have enjoyed feeling the warm sun on her bare skin.

    The hangman turned his attention to Lucy’s mom, Josephine. Everyone called her “Jo.”

    “Gosh, I’m really nervous,” said Jo, giggling, as she reached the top of the stairs.

    “Step right this way,” said the hangman cheerfully. “We’ve never had a dissatisfied customer.”

    “Well look at you,” he continued. “Mm mm mm mm. You don’t look old enough to be her mother. You must be her sister.”

    Like Lucy, Jo was wearing almost nothing – some sheer stockings, a garter belt, and shoes. Jo’s hands were tied behind her also. Lucy didn’t turn to see her mother’s expression but she knew her mother was smiling at hearing one of her favorite compliments. The compliment was true, too. Jo should have looked old and worn from a hard life – pregnant very young, twice, then in and out of a variety of chaotic relationships. Instead, Jo really did look like an older sister to her daughters. When anyone asked her for her secret, Jo would just waive her cigarette or cocktail and say, “Well, I guess I don’t take things too serious – you know?”

    “We’re lucky to have you here today,” said the hangman to Jo. “And we are lucky that you have brought us such a beautiful daughter.”

    “Oh I didn’t bring her,” said Jo. “She came all by herself, to be with her mother. Isn’t that sweet?”

    “Yes, it is,” said the hangman, “right this way please.”

    Jo stepped onto the second pair of trapdoors, to Lucy’s right. “Isn’t that rope supposed to be put on now?” asked Jo.

    “Yes, that’s right. Lift your chin just a little for me please,” he said. He took the second noose, put it around her neck.

    “Let’s make it nice and tight for you,” he said. He pulled the rope through the noose, so it was snug around Jo’s neck, then went to the back of the platform to take up every bit of slack in the rope.

    Today had been a long one, with many hangings. Lucy had been close to each one and watched each one closely. Each hanging inspired new feelings of horror as she saw up close exactly what happened when a human being was dangled in the air, held aloft only by a noose around her neck.

    Below Lucy, just off to her right, was a wagon with the bodies of three other women. One more had been taken away earlier. Lucy and Jo had seen each of them go through this same setup process, then watched as the trapdoors opened. Each time, the woman writhed, kicked and fought with every ounce of her strength. Being so close, Lucy could see how hard each one struggled and gasped. Each minute of struggling seemed to go on forever, and there were many, many minutes. No matter how long or hard each girl fought her battle the outcome was always the same. Gravity and the noose won every time. Each girl then finished hanging her full, allotted time before being taken down. Spectators drifted by to see each body as it hung there and dangled.

    After enough time, they dropped the body to the ground. Then deputies would pick up the body and toss it in the wagon. Even in the wagon there was no dignity – the hands were not untied, and the bodies were left exposed without a blanket or tarp for cover. Then the trapdoors were re-set and the slow pattern started again for the next person.

    Lucy made herself breathe deeply. She felt her lungs and chest expanding with each deep breath, and the sun warming her body.

    She turned to look at her mother. Jo looked over at Lucy and gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Isn’t this exciting?” she said, and smiled.

    Lucy nodded weakly.

    “You look like such a luscious little piece of pie, sweetie. If I wasn’t your mother I’d just want to take you home and . . . mm, mm, mm.”

    Lucy knew her mother would always come up with something appropriate or inappropriate to say.

    “I’m sorry I won’t get to see your little performance today,” Jo said, “Well maybe I'll catch a glimpse. I’m sure you’ll look fantastic.”

    “Thanks,” Lucy said with a sigh. “I’m sure you will too,” she said – it seemed to be the appropriate thing to say.

    The rest of the process was tedious. The judge had a young clerk, Judy. She was a beautiful, small waif of a girl wearing a lovely extra small, tight dress that showed off her slim figure. She read a bunch of legal terms that made little sense to Lucy. Lucy just waited and waited, watching some birds fly free at the other end of the town square. At times she would curl her fingers and extend them – it was the only part of her body she could control, and she tried to keep breathing as deeply as she could. She knew her breathing was making a spectacle of herself – she knew her heaving chest and breasts must make quite a sight for the spectators, even more so with her nipples at full attention. But it felt great to get extra oxygen into her bloodstream.

    She noticed an artist in the crowd making drawings. Earlier that day he asked the women if it was okay draw them. They all said “Okay.” Later, Lucy asked to see his work. He showed some sketches to her and it was obvious he was very talented. The drawings had a lot of beauty and drama.

    At one point the clerk read the part where she asked if Lucy or Jo wanted a pardon. Judy gestured to the women when she said it. The crowd was larger now. They knew the script. And all eyes turned to the two women standing naked on the gallows.

    Jo was silent. Lucy knew she was not supposed to say anything either. She kept quiet, breathing deep to help deal with her feelings.

    After that the Judge confirmed their sentences and told the hangman to do his job.

    Lucy felt the trapdoor shudder and every instinct in her body went on overdrive. “AHHHH!!!” she thought in a moment of abject terror. Instantly her veins were filled with pure adrenaline, and she struggled for breath. But it was only the hangman under the gallows, removing the safety pin that locked the trapdoors closed. When he knocked the pin loose it caused the doors to shudder and Lucy had imagined for a moment that they had opened. She tried to breathe to calm herself. She worked hard to take in all the air she could to calm her nerves. Part of her mind knew he had to remove those pins, but when the doors had shuddered all her rational thoughts had vanished.

    “Honey, I thought you were about to jump out of your skin there,” said Jo. “It’s just part of the process you know – you aren’t hanging yet.”

    Lucy gulped in all the fresh air as deeply as she could.

    “I guess I startled you there, young Miss,” said the hangman when he returned to the gallows platform.

    Lucy nodded.

    “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “Would you like a little time to catch your breath?”

    Lucy nodded vigorously.

    “You've got a few more minutes,” he said. “I’ll let you know when we get closer. Just breath deep and collect your thoughts.”

    “Thank you,” Lucy said, still a bit breathless.

    The next few minutes went fast. The crowd had grown larger and quieter.

    The hangman walked out to the front of the gallows, between the two women.

    “Well it's been a long day,” he said.

    They both nodded.

    “Thank you for being so patient while we hanged the other women,” he said. “The audience has been getting some fantastic, amazing shows today. You can feel good about that.”

    “And you both look gorgeous. So maybe the best is yet to come,” he added.

    He double checked the noose around Jo's neck. While he was close to her took the opportunity to run his fingertips up Jo's belly. Lucy didn't like to see her treated this way but Jo didn't seem to mind. She closed her eyes and stood still while he brushed the underside of her breast and one perky nipple. She smiled a bit.

    Then he turned to Lucy. He checked her noose and then ran his fingers up from her abdomen. She closed her eyes. He ran his fingers across her stomach, then gave a stroke across one of her breasts and tweaked one perky nipple. This light touch sent an electric shiver through her whole body. She hoped no one would notice how it affected her. But being so exposed there was not much she could do to hide her reaction from anyone who was looking.

    “Anyway,” he continued. “All I'd like you to do now is face to the front for me and take some good, deep breaths. I'm going to step to the back now. I need a moment or two to get ready. And then ... don’t worry — gravity will take good care of you and our audience will get an amazing show.”

    He stepped behind them, out of their view.

    “Well, I guess this is it, Sweetheart," said Jo. "How do you feel?” she asked. There was tension in her voice and her body though she was trying to stay upbeat.

    Lucy gulped. “Nervous,” she said, still taking deep breaths. Her heart was racing and her body body was fully “alert.”

    Lucy felt like every second of life was precious. She wanted to know what the hangman was doing. “Is he standing by the levers?” she wanted to know. “Is he grasping the levers? Is he about to pull them?” These questions seemed extremely important to her. She desperately wanted to turn and look over her shoulder to see what he was doing. She desperately wanted to know if he was about to open the trap doors she was standing on.

    But she didn't want people in the audience to know how scared she was. She didn't want to make a bad impression at the end. With huge willpower she forced herself to keep her back to the hangman. She looked straight ahead toward the audience and stood as tall and straight as she could, shoulders back, feet together, and she waited with as much patience as she could muster. She was almost trembling with fear, thinking about how trapdoors she was standing on could open up beneath her at any second with no warning. 

    The hangman was in no hurry. With each hanging he wanted to take his time and make sure the crowd got a great show.

    He strolled to the rear of the platform. Then he stopped, and turned to face the crowd. He could see their attention was riveted on him and the women, as people looked on with a range of powerful emotions -- shock, fear, horror, pity, and curiosity -- about what was going to happen. He put his hands together, thinking about what he was going to do. He tried hard to keep a jaunty and confident demeanor. But deep down it was not always easy to pull a lever. And it was getting a little harder for him each year. He liked to take a few moments to build up his resolve.

    After a good pause he reached out one hand and took a good, firm grip on one of the levers. Then with his other hand he took a good grip on the second lever. The crowd was totally silent, watching everything intently. The hangman took a pause to let the anticipation build. The women waited, standing on their trapdoors. From the hush of the crowd they could probably guess what was about to happen.

    When he had waited long enough the hangman bent his knees to brace himself. Then he made a hard and sharp pull on both levers. The trapdoors fell open and hit their stoppers with a loud "bang!"