The Ballad of Jimmy McGee

On a stormy night, in the middle of June, I first met Rudy Baltry. He wasn’t tall and he wasn’t strong, but he looked like he could wreck me. We shook hands and we placed bets, on the horse race, and next on Jimmy McGee. Jimmy McGee was a young lad, from the shores of Iowa,and a killer was he, and me and Rudy, we both wanted to see a gravestone o’er Jimmy McGee. So we got a big man called Rumbling Pete from the streets of N.Y.C, and we had him fight Jimmy McGee, the rest is history. Two hours later me and Baltry buried Jimmy McGee. We buried him deep in the woods, and covered his grave with leaves. Me and Baltry made our peace, and we returned to our homes that night. But we little did we know that the spirit of Jimmy McGee would haunt us all our life. Two weeks later we learned that Rumbling Pete had had his neck cracked in a fight. Rudy met me in a bar and he showed me a bloody knife. He said “I found this in Jimmy’s grave where his body once had laid. Somebody knows Jimmy McGee and that person wants us dead.” I laughed at Rudy and left the bar but when I returned home, I saw my walls covered with blood, and a magenta-colored note. The note read “I am the ghost of Jimmy McGee, the man you let be killed. I had my murder Rumbling pete killed, and I’ve arranged for your death as well.” I’ll admit I was shocked and afraid. The letter read like it came from hell. But I threw the letter in the furnace and began to write this tale. But little more than a minute went by when I got a telegram. I was wanted in the pillars of law for my crime, my life was in the judge’s hands. I arrived at the jail and went to an inquiry. The cop bought all my lies and I was set free. But as I walked out of the jail, I saw Jimmy McGee. That night I returned to the bar and drank with Rudy Baltry. But the dirty dog who served us beer was none other than Jimmy McGee. I returned home and took some pills and I went to sleep. But my dreams, or nightmares are more accurate, were plagued by Jimmy McGee. Three days later I heard that Jimmy McGee had taken Rudy Baltry. The cops claimed it was suicide but I knew it was Jimmy McGee. And so I finish this tale, as I’m about to pull the trigger, and pull the curtain on a tragedy of such sadness it makes me quiver. I know I’m a victim of fate and cruelty, but I’m no fool and I know how my gravestone will read. “Here lies the man, the dirty man, the god-damn man, who dared kill Jimmy McGee.”