The Awakening
By Debbie B;0)
Hoss placed his oversized hat on the peg beside the sideboard and gently
closed the heavy door that graced the front of the massive ranch house that
had been home to the Cartwright’s for many years. The sound of the door
closing rang hollow in the now empty house, empty of every thing that is
except the furnishings.
Hoss walked to the mahogany table that stood behind the settee and looked
about the room, memories flooded his mind as the tears gathered in his clear-blue
eyes. Without realizing what he was doing, Hoss gently ran his fingers
over the carved statue of a horse that reared its front legs high in the air.
The carving had been a gift to his father several years ago, one that he
had treasured.
Hoss sighed deeply, feeling the loneliness of his surroundings beginning
to take control of his thoughts. Walking around the settee he sat in
the wine colored leather chair that his father had claimed years earlier as
his favorite seat in the house. He had at some time or other held each
of his sons in his lap encircled in his arms while sitting in this chair.
Imagines of those times filtered through Hoss’ mind’s eye. Hoss ran
his hands across the soft leather and picked up the pipe that his father had
smoked just days earlier. He could smell the scent of Ben’s favorite
pipe tobacco that was still in the pipe, Ben having forgotten to knock it
out when he had finished. The memory brought tears to the surface of
his eyes and overflowed down his cheeks.
“Why Pa, why didn’t you listen to me?” cried Hoss’ broken heart.
Hoss wiped the tears with the back of his hand and looked at the blue velvet
chair that sat opposite from him. The book of Shakespeare lay open on
the table beside it, an unspoken reminder that his older brother, Adam, had
laid the book aside as if he would be returning shortly. But Hoss knew
differently, Adam would never return, not now, not later, and not ever.
Leaning over, Hoss ran his hands across the low wide-boarded table that
sat in front of the massive fireplace and his thoughts turned to his youngest
brother, Little Joe. How many times in the boy’s short eighteen years
had he been reminded to ‘take your feet off of the furniture, young man’,
thought Hoss. Sobs racked his body as he thought of his young brother.
No more would he be able to hear his laughter ringing from every room, no
more would he be partner to his brother’s outlandish schemes, and no more
the need for covering up the trouble that had always seemed to find the youngster.
Hoss stopped the scream that had surfaced though he wanted to vent his anger,
his frustrations and his grief. Moving to the settee he allowed his
large frame to drop to the comfort of the cushions. His eyes traveled
around the room once again, how could he go on? How would he manage?
His mind was a jumble of mixed thoughts, his heart a jumble of emotions, all
wanting to surface at the same time. Hoss buried his face in his hands
and allowed the tears to tumble down his cheeks, spotting his crisp white
shirt. He tugged at his black string tie until it came loose from around
his neck and carelessly tossed it onto the table in front of him.
Thinking that he heard a noise, Hoss glanced toward the stairs but saw nothing.
What he imagined was the Christmas tree, beautifully decorated, presents safely
tucked under the oversized pine, the candles carefully lit and glowing in
the soft evening light. He imagined he heard the voices of his family
as they sang their favorite carols, Ben’s deep rich baritone voice, Adam’s
voice smooth and sure, and Little Joe’s high-pitched, cracking voice that
was still part boy but struggling to be manly in its sounds. Memories
of past Christmases came into mind. Happier times with his family, times
when they laughed, joked and shared tender moments with each other and times
when all was well in his world, a world now void of his family and the love
that the four men, young and old alike had shared.
“Pa, how in the world will I be able to handle all of this? I can’t
do this, not alone, not without you! You have always been there for
me; Adam has always encouraged me, Little Joe, well, you know how he is, was,
always laughing with me, not at me. God, Pa, I miss all of you so much!
Why couldn’t I have been the one? Death would have been welcomed compared
to the grief and sorrow I am feeling now. My heart hurts so that I
fear it’s gonna break apart if the pain don’t stop,” Hoss sobbed softly.
“Please, make it stop, Pa, please. Oh God, stop the hurt!” Hoss
cried, not realizing he had spoken out loud.
“Hoss, give it time son, the pain will ease. You have to be patient,
you have to try Hoss, just keep trying, we will all stay close by,” came the
whisperings.
Hoss laid his head on the red pillow that graced the settee and closed his
eyes. How had such an accident happened? He had been having bad
feelings regarding the plan that was going to be put into action and had voiced
his concerns to his father and when Pa had brushed them off he had turned
to Adam who had seemed to turn a deaf ear to his worries.
They were planning on going down into the cave that worked its way deeply
into the mountain. The plan had been to place small amounts of nitroglycerin
every few yards in order to carefully blast out the walls. The plan
did not include his father and two brothers going into the tunnel along with
the nitro man who was to plant the explosives. How and why his family
members had entered the tunnel had yet to be explained to him. But entered
they had, along with ten other workers. It was told to him that what
probably happened was the nitro was dropped, causing a huge explosion, and
where once there had been a mountain, now there was nothing. Gone, as
if it had never existed, and along with it, the lives of three of the most
important people who had made up the center of Hoss’ world.
“Pa…Pa…”cried out Hoss.
“Shh…son, it’s okay, Pa’s here…you will be fine son, I promise.” Ben
spoke to his son.
Hoss opened his eyes, had he really heard his father speaking to him?
Hoss looked around the room but not seeing anyone he realized he had been
dreaming.
“Joe…where are you little buddy?” Hoss’ heart asked out loud.
“I’m here, Hoss. I haven’t left you, I’ll always be close by, you
know that,” laughed Little Joe softly.
Hoss sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I better get to doin’ something,
afore I go crazy.”
And with that Hoss made his way up the stairs to change his clothes.
No matter that he had just come from a memorial service for his family, there
were still chores to be done. He knew that his father would not be happy
with him if he neglected them and allowed things to run amuck. There
were animals to feed, orders to be given to the hands, plans to be made,
God, there was so much to do. The weight of his burden was baring down
on his large shoulders and he tried his best to overcome his feelings of
inadequacies. His father had raised him and trained him for the jobs
that he now had to take over and command. His father had driven into
each of his three sons the knowledge that was needed to be able to hold things
together in case such a thing as this tragedy happened. Hoss filled
his lungs, and silently promised his father that he would do all he could
in his power to keep the dream alive.
Hoss made his way to the barn and opened the door. As he entered,
he stopped momentarily to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
A soft whiny came from the stall closest to him and he turned to look at
the pinto that was stretching her neck out to him.
“Hey ya, girl. You miss him too don’t ya?” Hoss said as he reached
out his hand and petted his youngest brother’s horse. Hoss thought back
to the day that Little Joe had received his horse. Pa had given Cochise
to Joe for his birthday. Joe had been tickled pink at the surprise,
hopping around and yelling, laughing and crying, all at the same time.
Then later when Joe had accidentally shot their neighbor’s bull, Joe had willingly
sold his horse to pay for the damages he owed for the bull. Pa had
really been proud of Joe for being so unselfish and had on his next birthday,
returned his prize possession to him as a gift. Joe had for the second
time, leaped for joy, kissing and hugging all of them. Laughing, Hoss
remembered that he and Adam had had no idea what their father had been cooking
up and were just as surprised to see the horse standing in the yard on Joe’s
seventeenth birthday as Joe had been.
“Golly, was that just a year ago?” thought Hoss to himself.
Hoss walked to the back of the barn and stopped at his brother Adam’s horse.
Sport had pulled a ligament in his foreleg a week earlier and Hoss had been
doctoring it for Adam. Hoss knelt down and lifted the horse’s leg, feeling
down the length of it checking the healing process. He seemed fine
as far as Hoss could tell; there seemed to be no swelling and Sport didn’t
act as if he were in pain.
“Don’t worry Adam, I’ll take care of Sport for you. I promise, I’ll
make sure his leg is fully healed before I exercise him,” Hoss said to the
walls.
“Don’t concern yourself Hoss, I know you will take care of him. You
always have and I know you will continue to do so,” whispered Adam.
Hoss suddenly turned from his kneeling position and nervously glanced around
the barn. He could have sworn that he had heard his brother speaking
to him.
“I must be going crazy,” he thought.
When Hoss finished all the evening chores, he started toward the house but
stopped halfway across the yard. He stood and gazed at the home that
had been built with love by his father. It had been an accomplishment
that had become a source of pride for Pa. Built by his own hands and with
the help of Adam, himself, and a few good friends that his father had made,
it was the home that had become the center of their ranch, the Ponderosa.
The first Cartwright to be born on the Ponderosa had been born in this very
house and he had been a tiny curly headed little fella who throughout the
years had become the very heart of this home and this ranch.
In this house, he and his family had known good times, happy times, and
yet they had experienced hard times and bad times. Death had knocked
more than once on their door. Marie, Little Joe’s mother, had been
his Pa’s third wife and the only mother that he had ever known. She
had died suddenly and tragically from a fall from a horse, leaving behind
a grieving husband and three young sons. Now death had knocked again,
this time much harder, and when the grim reaper departed he had taken from
him the remainder of his family.
Hoss was not sure he could even re-enter the house. It was too quiet,
too sad, and he felt more alone than he had ever felt in his entire life.
His father would not be greeting him this time, Adam would not be strumming
his guitar and Little Joe would not be begging him for a game of checkers.
Hoss wondered if Little Joe had ever realized that he had always known that
his younger brother cheated from time to time. He had never let on;
he just let Little Joe play the game and win, it had seemed to have always
made him happy. In return Joe’s happiness had made him happy.
“Well,” thought Hoss, “I can’t sleep out here. And I know Hop Sing
has supper ready, might as well go in.”
Hoss had been right, Hop Sing was just putting his supper on the table when
Hoss appeared at the door.
“You come eat now, Mister Hoss, you keep up strength, you have much work
to do now,” encouraged Hop Sing.
Hop Sing was as sad as Hoss, the Cartwrights had been his family also; he
had been with them since before Little Joe had been born. He had seen
them through the good times and the hard times, same as Mister Hoss had been
there. Now his own heart ached for the family that would never again
sit at the large table and enjoy his cooking. Never again could he mumble
to them in his native tongue, and never again would he threaten to return
to his homeland of China.
He wondered if the family had ever understood what he had always said when
he shouted at them in Chinese? He didn’t think so, at least Mister Cartwright
and Adam had not, but he was fairly certain that Little Joe had understood
most of it. Hop Sing reasoned that had been because Little Joe had
spent many happy hours with him after the death of the boy’s mother and he
had picked up on many words and phrases that the little man had spoken.
The loss of his family saddened him but the loss of the boy whom he had
helped to raise and who was loved as if he had been Hop Sing’s own, brought
the tears to his eyes. Now all he had left of the family he claimed
as his own was the big softhearted man-child named Hoss. Hop Sing’s
heart cried for the boy. Seeing him sitting alone at the big table,
very much aware of the missing faces and seeing tears drip from his chin
into his plate was more than the Chinaman could bare and he returned to his
kitchen and dabbed at his own tears.
After supper Hoss climbed the stairs to his room. He thought there
was no way he was going to sit downstairs by himself. The memories that
had plagued his mind during the day had begun to take a toll on his body.
He was tired, weary and depressed. All he could think of was sleep
and the warm bed that waited for him. Stripping down and slipping on
his nightshirt, Hoss blew out his lamp and crawled into the comforts of his
bed.
Sleep was slow in coming for Hoss. Try as he might, he could not shake
the thoughts and memories that continued to march through his mind and across
his heart. Pa, tall and brave, he had always been his hero, thought
Hoss. Strict and firm yet fair and just, he could stop a man in their
tracks when his voice boomed, it sure had stopped him on more than one occasion
he laughed. How many nights had his father sat at his bedside when he
had been sick or injured? How many nights had he cried and prayed to
his God for his son’s recovery? More nights than he could count.
Pa had been the one person who he had always been able to count on, his father,
his teacher, and his mother in a sense, his companion, a steady influence
in his life and a man he loved and admire, worshipped and the man he would
most like to become.
“I promise ya Pa, I will make ya proud of me,” Hoss whispered into the night.
“I am proud of you Hoss, I always have been son, don’t you ever forget that,”
answered Pa.
Thoughts of Adam invaded him next. Adam had been more than just a
brother to him; it had been Adam who he had turned to after the death of
their mother, Marie. Pa had gone into such a depression that he had
turned away from his sons and Adam had been there to fill in for him until
Pa could pull himself back together. Adam and he had shared secrets.
Hoss had found himself telling Adam things that he dared not tell anyone
else, even his beloved father. Adam never judged him; he had always
given him sound honest advice, and encouragement. Adam had treated
him as an equal and not so much as a little brother. He had fought
for him, defending him against bullies, and against anyone and anything that
had threatened him, even against himself at times.
“Thank you Adam, for being here for me,” Hoss told the dark.
“Anytime ‘big’ brother.”
The words had seemed to be so very close to his ear, yet Hoss knew he was
imagining things again. He wondered how long these feelings would last.
He knew that when people were as close to each other as he and his family
had been things like this were known to happen. He couldn’t really say
that he minded; it made it seem as if they were still with him and he found
himself hoping that those feelings would continue staying with him forever.
As he turned on his side, Hoss thought he caught a glimpse of Little Joe
in the soft glow of the moon that shone through the window.
“Joe? Is that you little buddy?” Hoss asked as he raised his head from the
pillow. “What are you doing in here?”
“Thought I would stay with you for awhile, til you fell asleep. Is that
okay with you?” Little Joe asked, his voice seeming to be very clear and
near to Hoss’ way of thinking.
“Sure, guess ya can if’n ya wanna,” said Hoss out loud.
“Dadburn it,” said Hoss to himself, “now I’m talkin’ to ghost!” Hoss
could not help but smile to himself in the dark.
Joe of all people, a ghost, thought Hoss. He wondered how Joe was
dealing with that fact and he hoped that Joe wasn’t scared, things like that
had always frightened the young boy, that and the dark. Hopefully Joe
had gone to a brighter place where the light was said to always shine and
Hoss prayed that his family would be together.
Hoss tossed and turned in the bed, trying in vain to find a comfortable
spot. Death was so final, and Hoss realized that he knew so little about
what happens to someone when they pass from this life into the next life.
Now he wished that he had paid more attention to the preacher when attending
Sunday services. But he and Joe had usually ended up in trouble, neither
could sit still for very long periods of time, especially that younger brother
of his, he sure had gotten him in a ton of trouble over the course of his
lifetime; and not always on Sundays either!
Several times during the night, Hoss had awakened from sleep trembling and
finding himself shivering and cold yet hot at the same time. Imagines
of his father and brothers flashed before his eyes and in his sleep he called
out to them, begging them to return to him. He pleaded with them not
to leave him, to please stay, he was afraid of being left alone. He
cried for his father, longing to feel his father’s arms around him and holding
him in a tight embrace. This caused memories of his childhood to flow
into his mind and clutch at his heart causing him difficulty in breathing.
Hoss tried to rise from the bed but felt as if strong arms where holding
him down, forcing him to return his head to the pillow.
“Hoss, lay down son, please try to rest, you need to sleep now,” ordered
a voice that sounded very much like his father’s voice.
“I can’t,” cried Hoss, the tears starting up again. “ I need to get
up, there is so much to do, please help me get up,”
“Hoss, please don’t fight it, just relax and close your eyes. Tell you what,
I’ll get my guitar and sing to you,” Adam said and Hoss rubbed his eyes, the
vision appeared so real, but his mind and body was so tired he could no longer
make any sense of anything.
“One minute I think I’m alone and the next, here they all are, surrounding
me like I was the one dying,” thought Hoss. “God, please just get me
though this night and let morning get here soon,” prayed Hoss and closed his
eyes again.
When the sun at last came up, Hoss missed the beautiful sunrise. He
had been totally exhausted, both physically and mentally. Hop Sing had
carried a tray up for him but even the aroma of breakfast had not been enough
to lure him from the deep slumber that had finally claimed him. Hop
Sing left the tray and returned to his kitchen where he would begin his kitchen
chores and when finished with that would go into each of his family’s rooms
and tidy them. Soon thought Hop Sing, the time would come to clean
out certain things that would no longer be of any use to anyone left in the
house. That was a day he did not look forward too but knew that it
was something that would have to be done. He would speak to Mister Hoss
though before starting, perhaps Mister Hoss would want to help go through
the belongings him self.
It was nearly noon before Hoss at last pulled himself from his bed.
He couldn’t believe that he had slept as long as he had. He smiled to
himself as thoughts turned to Little Joe and thought about the many days that
his little brother had wasted on sleeping. Now he would sleep forever
and those thoughts saddened his heart.
“Oh Joe, do you know how much I loved you?” Hoss asked loudly, knowing that
there was no one else present that might hear him and think him crazy.
“Yes, Hoss, I know. And I love you too,” came the answer.
“Doggoneit, there goes them voices again,” said Hoss to himself as he quickly
glanced around his room. Hoss gave his head a gentle shake and left
his room. As he pulled the door closed, he stopped and gave the room the once
over, just to check to be sure that it was really empty. Those voices
were beginning to wear on his nerves.
As Hoss descended the stairs, his eyes came to rest on his father’s desk
and instead of going to the kitchen; Hoss walked to his father’s study.
As Hoss pulled the leather chair out, his eyes fell upon Ben’s ledgers and
he reached out and opened the one closest to him. Hoss carefully turned
to the first page and there he saw in his father’s own handwriting, the columns
of figures neatly placed in a roll. The handwriting, some Adam’s as
well as his father’s stared back at him. Gently Hoss traced the writings
with his fingers. This was all he had left of them, Pa and Adam, a few
measly words and numbers, scribbled on paper. It wasn’t fair cried his
heart, he wanted his family back. Unknown to Hoss tears had pooled in
his eyes and glancing down they dripped onto the fine onionskin paper that
was contained within the ledger leaving tiny round circles on the work that
his father had left unfinished.
Hoss felt like giving up, he had so much to do that the thoughts of all
that needed to be done began to overwhelm him. There were the mines
to check on, the lumber camp needed supplies and contracts needed signing,
there were cattle to round up, calves to brand and the cattle drive was coming
soon. Horses were waiting in the corral, they needed breaking, fences needed
to be repaired, trees needed marking, the list went on and on and on until
Hoss’ head began to ache from the thoughts that plagued it.
“Pa, I need ya, I need ya so very bad,” Hoss said as he moved out the door
and looked up at the clouds.
“I’m here son, I told you I wouldn’t leave you and have I ever broken a
promise to you?” his father answered.
“Pa, ya did leave, all of ya left. Don’t ya even know ya dead Pa?
You and Adam and Little Joe, ya dun dead and gone. The three of ya left
me here by myself,” screamed Hoss to the voice that he had been hearing since
coming home. The tears poured from his eyes and his sobs shook his
large frame as the heartbroken man covered his face with his hands and cried.
“Pa, what’s wrong with him, why is he saying that?” asked Little Joe, concern
for his older brother clearly showing on his young face.
“I’m not sure son, his fever seems to have broken. I would have thought
that he would be awake by now,” Ben said as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Ben placed his hands on those of his middle son’s and gently moved them so
that he could see into the face of the weeping man.
“Hoss, wake up son. Hoss, do you hear me? Wake up, please,”
ordered Ben.
“I don’t think he can hear you Pa,” Adam stated as he leaned over the bed
and watched the expressions on the face of his middle brother.
“Try again Pa. He’s scaring me with all of that talk about us being
dead,” Little Joe worried.
Ben moved closer to Hoss and gently shook his shoulders. “Hoss, can
you hear me?”
Hoss turned his head so that he could hear his father’s voice. Who
was shaking him? Carefully he opened his eyes and there smiling at him
was his father, or was it another dream?
“Pa?” whispered Hoss quietly, causing Ben to lean closer so that he might
be able to hear the words.
“I’m here son.”
Hoss reached up and touched the face that seemed so real to him and was
surprised to find that the face before him was indeed real.
“Pa, it’s really you!” smiled Hoss.
“Of course it is, welcome back son. You certainly gave us a bad scare,”
smiled the happy father.
“Ya ain’t dead? Adam, Little Joe, ya’s here too!” Hoss grinned at
his family.
“That must have been one hell of a bad dream you had there, Big Brother,”
laughed Little Joe, glad to see his brother finally coming around.
“JOSEPH!” yelled Ben.
“Sorry Pa,” Little Joe said and smiled slightly at his father.
Hoss looked up at Little Joe and then smiled at all of them. “That
weren’t no dream little brother, that was one nasty nightmare! Now I
see why ya wake up screaming when ya have’em.”
“Hey Pa, I’m starved, how about Hop Sing bringing me some grub and then
while I eat, I’ll tell ya’ll about this here nightmare I just had?” Hoss
suggested.
“When are you not hungry?” laughed Adam finding a seat on the other side
of Hoss’ large bed.
“Aw shucks, Adam, you knows I like ta eat. By the way Adam, Joe, Pa,
have I told ya lately that I love ya?” Hoss smiled, his face turning pink
at his confession.
He sure was glad that he had his family back and that what he had
experienced had not been real, but had only been a nightmare that had been
caused by his fever. That fever caused by an injury he received while
helping to haul logs down to the river, had raged for days, causing him to
see and hear things that were not true to life.
Hoss prayed that he would never again have nightmares, dreams or hallucinations
like the one he just experienced.
Looking up at the family that smiled down at him and seeing the love in
their faces, Hoss silently prayed a special prayer of thanks for the family
that he cherished and loved more than any thing in his life. He was
happy to be back in the real world and happier yet to have his family with
him.
“ Where should I start? Now let’s see…well it all began when……………
The End
October 2001
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