By Debbie B
Ben
pushed back the drapes and opened the window up higher to let more air filter
into the room. The room, alit with soft
golden light that burned from the lamp, had become overly warm and stuffy. When Ben looked upward, he frowned. The sky, blue just a short time ago, had been
covered by a thick layer of dark, ominous thunder clouds that promised a storm
was on it’s way. The air was still; not
even a hint of a breeze tickled the tops of the tall pines just outside the window. Ben’s tired, troubled eyes searched the yard
below for any signs of life, but it seemed that even the birds had flown away
to hide from the impending tempest. In
the distance, Ben could hear the soft, gentle rumble of the thunder that had
signaled the storm’s birth. Off on the
horizon, the lightening flickered; not the violent jagged type, but the soft,
heat lightening that illuminated the entire sky when if flashed.
A
soft moan from the other side of the room instantly drew Ben’s attention from
the outside world to the world within the four walls of the airless room. He hurried to the bed and sitting on the very
edge, took the smaller hand into his larger one and kissed the back of the
feverish flesh.
“Son…can
you open your eyes?” whispered the worried father as he brushed back the damp
locks of hair from his son’s brow.
There
was no movement. The hazel eyes remained
sealed away behind lowered lids and refused to acknowledge that they had heard
the muted plea. Ben sighed, tucked the
hand back under the blanket, rose from his seat on the bed and dipped the cloth
into the cool water and for the hundredth time, wiped the tiny sweat beads from
the boy’s face. He followed with another
cloth, dipped the corner into the pitcher where the water was cooler and shook
the drippings free and then returned to the bed. With the patience of Job, Ben dabbed the
chapped and cracked lips with the moistened corner of the cloth until by
reflex, the lips parted, allowing Ben to ease the wet end of the cloth between
the partially opened mouth.
“Try
sucking on the rag, Joe,” Ben instructed, though he knew that the boy’s mind
was so far away from him that he might as well have been speaking to the
bedpost.
The
boy was slowly becoming dehydrated, taking in next to zero amounts of liquids
but losing precious body fluid each and every time that he broke into a sweat
that left the linens soaked and in need of changing. Ben squeezed the corner of the wet cloth,
allowing the cool water to drip into the parched mouth. Joe swallowed, a natural reflex, but it gave
the concerned father a measure of hope.
He returned the cloth to the pitcher and repeated the process several
times before feeling confident enough to believe that his son had taken enough
liquid into his system to at least relieve part of the dryness.
Ben
watched as Joe’s tongue gently licked at the scabby skin topping the normally
soft flesh of his lips. Joe moved his
head ever so slightly to the right and then moaned softly. Ben’s hand moved to the boy’s face where his
fingers tenderly caressed his son’s cheek and then slipped carefully around to
the back of the boy’s head where he could still feel the pump knot at the base
of Joe’s skull. The knot was soft and
when Ben applied gentle pressure to the bump, it seemed squishy. Joe groaned and moved his head in the
opposite direction.
“I’m
sorry Joseph, I didn’t mean to hurt you, sweetheart,” Ben whispered as he
pressed his lips to Joe’s fevered brow.
“Please son, won’t you just try to open your eyes?” pleaded Ben as his
lips brushed against his son’s ear. “I
need you to try Joe, please try…come back to me, son.”
Ben’s
lips stayed pressed gently to Joe’s ear, hoping that somehow his son would hear
his voice and fight his way back from the dark domain where his mind had taken
him. It had been two days since they had
found the young boy lying by the roadside, unconscious, and still, they had no
inkling as to how or why that the sixteen-year-old had come to be where he
was.
“I love
you Joseph…I hope you know that,” whispered Ben, fighting back the tears that
had for the last two days, threatened to overflow.
Ben
brushed at his eyes to dry the moisture that had suddenly filled the dismal
depths and taking a deep breath, stood up from the bed and slowly made his way
back to the window. It was hot and muggy
and he hoped that the impending rain would cool the hot and humid air outside.
The
storm clouds had darkened and the wind had picked up enough that now the tips
of the pines had begun to sway lightly.
The thunder boomed, louder this time and much closer than before. In the next instant, the lightening lit up
the darkening sky in an eerie array of patterns that started at one point in
the mist of an ebony cloud and protruded outward in serrated projectiles. Ben shivered, though not from the breeze that
had finally found its way to the opened window and brushed softly at his
face. He glanced back at the boy in the
bed who refused to open his eyes, or speak, or move or respond to his loving
touch, and his heart skipped a beat.
What
if the boy never woke up? The doctor had
said that anything was possible, had explained that with a head injury such as
the one Joe had sustained, the boy could lay in a coma for weeks, possibly months
or until the body stopped functioning altogether. Ben pinched his eyes tightly closed and
swiped his opened hand across the front of his face, shaking his head lightly
to chase away his fears. When he opened
his eyes again, Adam was standing in the opened doorway, a troubled expression
on his face, silently watching his father.
“Are
you all right, Pa?” whispered Adam when his father’s eyes met his.
He
entered and crossed the room to stand face to face with his father. Adam could see the unshed tears that made his
father’s eyes shine in the soft glow of the lamp light. He heard his father swallow sharply and knew
that this mountain of a man was struggling to keep from being reduced to tears
and giving in to his apprehensions about the boy whom he loved more than life
itself. Ben nodded his head, his eyes seeking the face of the youngster’s in
the bed.
“Just
tired…and worried,” Ben glanced up at Adam, saw the expectancy in his eyes, and
added, “and frightened.” Ben moved back
to the bed and lowered his weary body into the comforts of the old chair that
had been pulled along side the bed.
Adam
followed and stood behind his father, placing a comforting hand on his father’s
shoulder. Ben looked up, smiled and
placed his hand over Adam’s. “Thank you,
son,” he whispered.
“For
what, Pa?” asked Adam as he moved around the chair and sat next to his brother
on the edge of the bed.
“For
being here, for me…and for Joe,” explained Ben.
“I don’t think I could have made it this far, had it not been for your
strength, urging me on, refusing to allow me to give up,” smiled Ben.
“Pa,”
Adam glanced at his father, “I’d never leave you…not with my brother in this
condition, you know that. Neither would
Hoss, our trip can wait, it isn’t important, you and Joe are what matter most
to Hoss and I.”
“I
know that son, but you boys have planned this special trip for so long. I’m just sorry that you’ve had to change your
plans, that’s all,” Ben explained.
Adam
shook his head from side to side. “It
doesn’t matter Pa, honest. Maybe Joe’s
accident was God’s way of keeping us here; perhaps we shouldn’t even go. But please, don’t worry about us, I can see
you’re worried enough as it is about Joe.”
“I
am worried Adam. I’m afraid that he
won’t wake up…and I’m terrified about what happens when he does and things
aren’t like they use to be with him.
Paul said that the longer that he stays in a coma, the more likely that
his mind would be damaged. What then
son?” Ben dropped his head and felt his
body tremble. When he looked up, Adam
could see the tears spilling from the corners of his father’s eyes and knew
that this man’s fear was justified.
“Pa,
please…don’t think like that. Joe’s
going to be fine,” Adam tried to reassure him.
Ben
took a deep breath to steady his trembling and tried to smile. “You’re right,
of course Adam. I can’t loose faith now,
Joe needs to know that we are being positive about this.”
Adam
stood to his feet and placed his hand once again, on his father’s shoulder. “Would you like for me to have Hop Sing bring
a tray up for you? I have to help Hoss
in the barn. That storm’s moving in fast
and we need to secure some things. I can
have one sent up to you?”
“Maybe
some fresh coffee, I just don’t think I could eat anything, thank you.”
“Coffee
it is then,” smiled Adam as he moved toward the door. “I’ll be back in a little while,
Ben
had hung his head and Adam could see his father’s lips moving, though he could
not make out a word that his father was uttering, Adam knew that Ben was
praying. Quietly, he closed the door and
made his way down the hall, pausing at the top of the stairs and casting his
eyes back toward his little brother’s bedroom.
Adam
swiped his hand over his own tear filled eyes and took a deep breath, his head
held upward. “Please God, Joe isn’t the
only one who needs you…we all do.”
Adam
descended the stairs with his thoughts on the young boy who lay so near
death. He hadn’t wanted his father to
know, but he had the same fears about Joe as his father. If the boy died, a part of all of them would
die too, and if the boy lived and his mind was damaged, their lives would still
be forever changed. How would they cope,
should the boy never mature more than what he was now, or worse, become a child
in his mind, trapped in a man’s body?
Adam’s body shook with the fear that plagued his thoughts. He knew his brother well, and knew that had
Joe a choice in the matter, the boy would have chosen death rather than the
alternative. And, thought Adam, I can’t
say that I blame him, for what man would want to live as such, surely, not I.
Adam
related his father’s request to Hop Sing for fresh coffee and then hurried to
the barn where Hoss was waiting for him.
As he pushed open the barn door, the wind swirled down with a sudden
blast and sent his hat flying.
Grumbling, he rushed after the hat and once he managed to grab it, ran
back to the barn.
“Whew,”
he sighed.
“Wind’s
getting up,” Adam called out to Hoss who was busy mucking out one of the
stalls. “Going to be humdinger of a
storm.”
“Yeah,
we’d better hurry too, cause I don’t wanna be caught out here when the full
force hits. Say, how’s Joe?” Hoss
stopped working and turned to Adam.
Adam
shook his head, “about the same. No
change that I can tell, just laying up there looking like he’s sleeping.”
“And
Pa?” questioned Hoss softly.
He knew how much his father was worried, they all were, but Hoss knew that if the boy failed to pull through, it would hit their father harder than either he or Adam. Though Ben loved all of his sons, there was a special bond between himself and his youngest son that only God in his superior wisdom, understood. Joe’s death would take its toll on the entire family, but would ultimately destroy the oldest Cartwright.
“Let’s
finish up in here and then get back inside.
I don’t think we should stray too far from Pa…He isn’t looking very well
right now. Hoss, I’m as much afraid for
him as I am for Joe. From what Paul has told
Pa, either way, Joe doesn’t stand much of a chance.” Adam had to stop and swallow, for the
thickness that had suddenly clutched his throat, made speaking difficult.
“Aw…Adam,
do ya really think it’ll come down to that?
I mean, ain’t there any hope at all?” mused Hoss.
Adam
pushed back his damp hair and pinched his lips tightly together. “Sure there’s hope. As long as there is a breath in a man,
there’s hope. But Hoss, Paul says he’s
seen these kinds of head injuries before, and has yet to see a man come through
without some sort of changes. His
prognosis was not very encouraging I’m sad to say.”
Hoss
turned his back to his brother, afraid that Adam might see just how much he
wanted to break down and cry. He stomped
over to the other side of the barn and hung up his rake, wiping his eyes before
turning around.
“I
ain’t gonna take no for an answer, Adam.
Little Joe is gonna get well…he’s just gotta.”
Adam
followed Hoss from the barn and secured the latch on the door so that the wind,
which was growing stronger, could not blow the door opened. Adam had to almost run to catch up with his
middle brother and had just fallen into step with the larger man when the
thunder boomed so loud that the windows in the house rattled. In the barn, the two brothers could hear the
horses whinnying in fright. The
lightening ripped open the sky and just before the final flash of light, the
rain commenced to fall in a slow gentle pitter-patter style.
Ben
stood by the window; the wind had increased to the point that the tall, slender
Ponderosa pines were bending as the blasts swirled through the yard. Their soft whining sounds filled the silent
evening hours as it took turns with the thunder and lightening. The temperature had dropped and the air held
a new crispness about it as it cooled the earth and refreshed the stale air in
the upstairs bedroom overlooking the yard.
Ben
paced the floor, casting his eyes around to search the boy’s face for any signs
that might tell him that his son had returned from the faraway place where he
lingered. A slight movement from the bed
caught his attention and Ben immediately turned his attention to his son.
Joe’s
head moved slowly from side to side and though his eyes remained glued shut,
soft guttural sounds could be heard deep within the boy’s throat. His arm found its way free of the tangle of
blankets and probed the empty air for a handhold.
Quickly
Ben placed himself on the bed and took the hand into his own and gently
squeezed. “Joseph?” he muttered. “Papa’s here baby…open your eyes…please.”
Joe’s
head continued to roll from side to side, his eyelids fluttered but refused to
open.
“Joe,
if you can hear me son…squeeze my fingers,” instructed Ben, using his other
hand to brush back the curls that had haphazardly fallen down on Joe’s brow.
“Squeeze
my fingers, Joseph,” Ben repeated with a touch of urgency in his deep voice.
Ben
watched the slender fingers held securely within his hand and willed his
unconscious son to follow his instructions. After several moments, Joe stopped
his thrashing and seemed to slip back into his own private world of
obscurity. Ben patted the hand, rubbing
the back with his thumbs and then gently placed Joe’s hand on the bed, next to
his side.
“Maybe
next time,” he muttered to himself, and rose to his feet, disheartened and more
frightened for his son’s welfare than before.
He watched the boy’s face for several moments and then, startled by the
booming, rolling thunder, and the howling of the wind, turned back to the
window.
Hoss
and Adam were running across the yard and Ben heard the door slam when the wind
caught it and forced it closed. Minutes
later, his two older sons, slipped as quietly as possible into the bedroom.
“Boy,
that’s goin’ be a bad storm,” offered Hoss, chancing a glance in Little Joe’s
direction. “How’s he adoin’, Pa?”
Ben
followed his middle son’s gaze and when Hoss stepped up to the bed, Ben joined
him and placed his hand on the massive shoulder.
“He
was moving around a minute ago. He was
reaching out with his hand, like he was trying to grab something. I held his hand for a bit and told him to
squeeze my fingers….”
“Did
he?” asked Hoss, hopefully.
Ben
saw the spark of hope that had briefly flickered in the sky blue eyes that had
focused themselves on his face and Ben hated to be the one to extinguish that
spark, but he had to admit the truth.
Ben shook his head.
“No…I’m
sorry Hoss, I know how you must feel,” added Ben when he saw the spark die.
Hoss
scrunched up his face and took the chair that Ben had sat in earlier. His eyes sought his younger brother’s face
and he reached out and brushed the boy’s cheeks with his beefy fingers, Hoss
felt his throat constrict.
The
gentle hearted man leaned over, placing his face inches from his
brother’s. “Come on Short Shanks, ya
gotta fight harder. Harder punkin, ya
hear ole Hoss?”
Hoss
ran his arm under his nose, wiping dry the clear moisture that had began to
seep and cleared his throat. “Dadburnit
little brother, me and Adam’s gettin’ tired of doin’ all your chores and ours
too, now ya better listen good…ya need to wake up…and do it pretty quick,”
whispered Hoss.
Hoss
quickly stood to his feet and turned, walking out of the room so that he could
hide his tears from the other members of his family. He felt like screaming out but knew that
would not do any of them any good and he realized that his older brother and
his father must surely feel as miserable as he himself was feeling. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Hoss
sauntered on down the stairs and went in search of Hop Sing in hopes of finding
a bite to eat.
“He’s
pretty upset,” Ben mumbled to Adam as he stood before the window, gazing out at
the storm that had intensified.
“He’ll
be okay, please don’t start worrying about him.
You’ve certainly got enough to worry about with just Joe,” Adam stated,
giving his father a smidgen of a smile when Ben turned from the window to look
in Adam’s direction.
“It’s
just that I know how things like this touches that boy’s heart. He might be big and strong, but his heart is
soft and tender. And besides Adam, you
know that Hoss has always felt as if he were his little brother’s protector,”
Ben smiled and glanced at Joe who had not moved or made a sound in the last
hour or so.
Ben
crossed the room to the bed while Adam followed his father’s steps with his
eyes. “Hoss probably has been feeling a
little guilty about snapping at the boy the other morning before Joe left for
school. I know for a fact it bothered him
all that day, and then when we brought Joe home and he was unconscious…well, I
think Hoss is upset because he didn’t get to tell his brother that he was sorry
for the way he spoke to him.”
“That
sounds like Hoss, but he didn’t really mean anything by what he said to
Joe. Surely Joe knew that Hoss was only
kidding?” questioned Adam.
“I
knew, and you knew, but Joe…well, Adam, you know how the boy takes everything
to heart. He had the strangest look on
his face when he rode out, I’m afraid that he might not have realized that Hoss
was joking with him, and worse, I think Hoss knew that as well,” explained Ben.
“The
boy seems warm again son, would you mind helping me bathe him down so that we
can cool this fever?” asked Ben as he felt Joe’s forehead with his opened hand.
“What’s
causing the fever Pa? I didn’t think
that a head injury would cause someone to run a fever?” Adam wanted to know.
Ben
placed the cool cloth on Joe’s brow and sat down on the bed. “Paul said it could happen sometimes when the
body has under gone this type of shock. He said it wasn’t unusual and that the
fever shouldn’t get too high, unless perhaps there was something else going on
that he was not aware of. Worse thing
is, there’s no real way of knowing for sure and all we can do is wait,” Ben
said.
“And
pray,” added Adam.
Ben
glanced up at his oldest son and nodded his head. “And pray.”
The
storm continued to build in momentum.
The wind outside the house howled furiously as the pines waved and bent
against the force. The thunder had
reached maximum intensity and the lightening made the nighttime seem like day
when she exploded her radiant beams across the heavens. The rain was nothing more than drizzle, for
the onslaught of rain had yet to reach them.
Inside, Ben continued his vigil at his son’s bedside, moving constantly
from the bed to the window. His eyes
were always on the lookout for dangers that might surface from the storm’s
ferocity and put them all in a situation that might call for them to take
cover.
“The
rain’s let up, I think I’ll check the barn and make sure that the horses are
all right,” whispered Adam, rising from his seat next to the bed. “I’ll be back
in a few minutes,” he told his father.
“Pa, can I get you anything?”
“No
thanks, son. I’ll just sit here with
Joe,” mumbled Ben, taking the seat that Adam had just vacated. “When you’re finished in the barn, why don’t
you and Hoss go on to bed? I can keep an
eye on things for awhile.”
“I
could use some sleep. I think Hoss has
already turned in, but what about you, Pa?
You need some rest as well,” Adam reminded his father.
Ben
walked to the door with Adam and shook his head. “I’m staying right here, until he opens his
eyes, I don’t care how long it takes. I
don’t want him waking up and thinking that he’s all alone.”
“Okay,
but please, try to catch a few winks, will you?” Adam almost pleaded.
“I
promise, as soon as this storm dies down,” laughed Ben lightly, though his
voice held no joy.
Ben
sat for the next couple of hours next to his son’s bed listening to the sounds
of the storm outside. The thunder’s
volume had reached an all time high; the lightening seemed to be a continual
array of lights, one jagged streak after another as the bolts of light chased
each other across the blackened sky. The
howling of the wind sounded much like a hungry pack of wolves on the prowl, and
bent the trees so low that Ben was sure that the high tips were touching the ground
and he wondered what it was that kept the trunks from snapping in two. And still, the boy in the bed remained locked
away in his remote world of oblivion.
Ben,
with his son’s hand held within the folds of his own, pressed lovingly against
his cheek, sat by the bedside, his head bowed in reverence as he prayed softly
for his son’s wholeness. His thoughts
backtracked to the day, now just hours from being three, when Joe had been late
coming home from school and he and Adam had set out in search of the tardy lad.
Ben’s
anger had begun to simmer as he stewed about the house, grumbling as to why
this youngest son could never abide by his rules. “I told that boy to come straight home after
school,” he ranted to both Adam and Hoss who stood before him, in front of the
large oak desk in Ben’s den.
“Why
can’t he do just one little thing that I asked him to do?” he fussed.
“Maybe
he got kept after school…again,” offered Adam, traces of a smile tugging at his
lips as he glanced sideways at his middle brother who was trying to hide his
own amusement.
Ben’s
keen eyes turned dark as he glared at his two sons. “And I suppose that the two of you find this
amusing? Well, the two of you can go
right this minute and begin working on that fence that Joe was suppose to
repair this afternoon!”
The
smiles on the faces of the brothers faded as each stared opened mouth at their
father. “Aw…Pa…” began Hoss.
“You
heard me, now get, both of you!” ordered Ben.
Adam
turned his handsome face into a scowl but said nothing as he turned to do as
his father had insisted. Hoss expelled
the air from his lungs and joined his brother.
When Ben was sure of the closing of the door, he smiled and then laughed
lightly.
By
supper time when Joe had still not gotten home from school, there were no
smiles to be seen around the supper table.
Hoss and Adam, their fence repair finished, ate in silence, casting
glances at each other on more than one occasion. Ben jabbed with his fork, at the food on his
plate, until he could stand it no longer.
The fork made a clanking sound when he dropped it onto the
“Hoss,
please go saddle our horses,” he ordered as he wiped his mouth and pushed back
his chair.
“Ya
goin’ to look for him?” asked Hoss cautiously as he watched the frown on his
father’s face as it deepened.
“Yes
I am…and when I find that boy…well, let’s just say, he will be sitting easy for
several days,” grumbled Ben.
Hoss
and Adam swapped knowing looks and then Hoss ambled on out to the barn to get
the horses ready. By the time that Ben
and Adam joined him, all three horses were saddled and ready to go.
“Hoss,”
Ben called and then, taking the reins from around the hitching post faced his
middle son. “I want you to stay here,
just in case the boy returns while we’re still out. Should the little scalawag get back, tell him
to get his chores done, pronto and then go straight to his room. I’ll join him there later.”
Ben
finished his little speech and pulled himself up into his saddle. Adam was already mounted and waiting for his
father to give the signal to move out.
Adam
chanced a glance at Hoss who stood with fingers buried deeply into the pockets
of his trousers. His eyebrows raised
slightly as he nodded a farewell to his older brother.
Ben
and Adam had ridden several miles before Ben held his hand up for Adam to stop.
“What’s
wrong, Pa?” the oldest son questioned, watching the frown deepen on his
father’s brow.
Ben
sat motionless on his horse and then turned to Adam, his eyes filled with
unvoiced worry. “It’s nearly dark,” he
said, as if Adam could not have figured that out for himself. “It isn’t like Miss Jones to keep a child,
even your brother, this late after school.”
Adam
agreed. “What then? You don’t think he took off again to the lake
with his friends and lost track of time, do you?”
“I’m
not sure…but if he has…”
“Pa,
look!” Adam called, his voice deep with anxiety, “there’s Cochise!” Adam was pointing to a small rise off in the
distance.
“Come
on Adam, something must be wrong, Joe’s not with him!” Ben kicked Buck’s sides and the horse broke
into a run with Adam and Sport right behind them.
Ben
crested the rise and pulled his horse to a stop just a short distance from
where his youngest son’s horse stood.
Buck reared slightly as Ben slid from the saddle. Adam was close on his heels and he approached
his brother’s horse slowly so as not to spook the animal that eyed them with
caution.
“Whoa
boy,” Adam called in a soft voice.
He was able to grab the reins and steady the horse
while Ben quickly ran his hands over the animal’s body searching for any signs
that might tell them what had happened to the youngest member of the family.
“Nothing,”
groaned Ben, looking at Adam with concern in his eyes. “Let’s look around some.”
Both
men took off in different directions, searching the grounds for signs of the
missing youth.
“JOSEPH!”
Off
to his right, Adam could hear his father calling the boy’s name, yet he could
hear no reply. Suddenly, Adam stopped;
his heart was in his throat as he spied the crumpled body of his brother lying
in a heap and practically out of sight, hidden by the tall grasses.
“PA! OVER HERE!” shouted Adam as he ran the short
distance to where his brother lay motionless.
Adam
fell to his knees at his brother’s side, placing his hands on the boy’s
shoulders, yet not making an effort to turn the boy over until he was certain
that there were no broken bones. Almost
instantly, Ben was on the ground with Adam, kneeling at Joe’s side.
“Joseph?”
Ben cried, his heart pumping with fear.
Ben caught a quick glance at his oldest son and saw the same fear
reflecting back at him.
With
tender care, Ben gently brushed his fingers along the back of Joe’s head,
feeling for the first time, the sticky, nearly congealed blood that had
accumulated at the base of the hairline.
“He
has a knot on his head the size of a goose egg,” Ben groaned with mounting
dread.
“I
don’t think anything is broken,” Adam added.
“Help
me turn him over.”
Using
care, and with Adam’s help, they turned Joe over so that Ben could see his
son’s face. His hand instantly moved to
the boy’s brow to brush away the dirt particles that had gathered.
“Adam,
get me some water, please,” commanded Ben as he untied his scarf from around
his neck.
Adam
quickly did his father’s bidding and returned with the required canteen and
handed it to his father. Ben pulled the
cork from the top and while Adam held the scarf, Ben poured the cool water onto
the cloth.
Adam
squeezed the excess water from the cloth and handed it to his father taking the
canteen from Ben’s hands. Ben wiped away
the dried blood from the scrap on Joe’s face.
“He
has another bruise on his temple,” Ben uttered.
“Must have gotten this one when he fell from his horse.” Ben wiped the dirt and blood from that area
as well as he held his child’s head in his arms.
“Joseph,
can you hear me, son?” pleaded Ben.
Joe
made no attempt to move or open his eyes.
“He’s out cold,
“I’ll
take him back to the house, you help me get him on the horse with me and then
you ride to town and fetch Doc Martin,” Ben said as he lifted Joe up into his
arms and carefully stood to his feet.
Adam
gathered the horses and when Ben was ready, took his brother’s lifeless body
into his arms and waited until his father had mounted his horse. Carefully, Joe was transferred from his
brother’s arms to his father’s horse where Joe was placed in front of Ben. Joe’s head slumped back against his father’s
shoulder, staining Ben’s shirt with blood from the back of his head where the
skin surrounding the goose egg sized knot had seeped blood.
“Get
the doctor back to the house as fast as possible son. Joe hasn’t uttered a sound and that worries
me,” instructed Ben as he turned Buck back toward the ranch.
“I
will Pa,” Adam called as Sport was swung around in the opposite direction.
“HOSS! HOSS! GET OUT HERE, QUICK!” shouted Ben as
soon as he entered the yard.
The
front door opened wide as Hoss hurried out into the yard. Instantly his eyes took in the scene and he
rushed to his father’s side where already, Ben was easing Joe down from his
horse.
“Lordy
Pa, what happened to’em?” Hoss said in a rush as he accepted his bundle from
his father.
Hoss
stared opened mouth at his little brother’s face, which was void of color and
with a good sized bruise forming on Joe’s temple, the contrast between the pale
flesh and the darkened flesh were appalling.
“I
don’t know, we found him like this. He’s
out cold and only God knows how long he had lain like that. Let’s get him to bed, Adam should be here
shortly with the doctor.”
Ben
hurried to open the door for Hoss and then followed him up the stairs to Joe’s
room where Hoss gently lowered the wounded boy to the bed. Hop Sing appeared out of nowhere with fresh
water and the medical supplies so that Joe’s wounds could be cleaned and ready
for the doctor when he arrived to make his assessment.
As
Ben and Hoss moved to strip away Joe’s clothing and then begin the bathing
process, Joe was soundless and unmoving; Joe was lethargic and Ben, knowing
what that meant, grew more fearful by the moment.
“I
wish Adam would hurry with the doctor,” he whispered while pulling the blankets
up around Joe's chin when the bath was completed.
Hoss
picked up the pile of dirty clothes and handed them to Hop Sing as the little
servant man prepared to leave the room.
“Doctor come soon, make number three son better,” muttered Hop Sing on
his way out the door.
“I
hope so,” muttered Ben sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking Joe’s
hand into his own and bringing it to his lips.
“Joe,
can you hear me, son?” Ben said softly and when the boy made no sound, Ben
glanced up at Hoss, his eyes slowly beginning to mist.
“Pa…try
not to worry, Joe’ll be all right,” Hoss said through clenched teeth. “He’s jist gotta.” Hoss swallow to clear his throat. “I think I’ll wait downstairs for the doctor,
ya need anythin’ Pa?”
Ben,
his eyes locked onto Joe’s face just shook his head and was unaware when Hoss
slipped quietly from the room.
It
seemed like hours to the anxious father before Adam returned with Doc Martin in
tow. The light rapping at the door told
him that the physician had at last arrived and when Paul entered the room, Ben
quickly moved from his spot on the bed to allow the man more space.
Paul
gave a small smile in Ben’s direction and went straight to the bedside. His hand went first to Joe’s forehead to
check for fever and as Paul sat down on the edge, he gently fingered the scrape
and the bruise at Joe’s temple. After
checking the eyes, and then allowing his fingers to examine the knot on the
back of Joe’s head, he turned and quickly ran his hands the length of Joe’s
body to determine whether or not there were any broken bones. Paul was silent as he examined his patient;
at times he closed his eyes and permitted his hands and fingers to make the
accurate decisions for him. After
several tense moments, he glanced in Ben’s direction.
“Has
he said anything, moaned, cried out, moved, anything at all since you found
him?”
The
sadness was evident in the dark passionate eyes of the boy’s father as he shook
his head from side to side. “Nothing
Paul, he hasn’t even wiggled so much as a finger.”
The
physician could hear the defeat in his friend’s voice and he hurried to
reassure the troubled man and his sons.
“Ben,
this could be just a temporary thing. He
has a serious concussion and may be out like this for several hours. Right now, all we can do is watch and wait. I think that when some of the swelling goes
down, he’ll start coming around and then we’ll see some movement and he might
even begin to talk to you. Do you have
any idea how he came to have this knot on the back of his head?”
Ben
had moved a chair to the side of the bed and sat down, allowing his body to
mold into the soft cushion. “No, we
don’t even know for sure when it happened, let alone how or why. All I can figure is that Joe started home
from school, which would have been around
“Adam
said that when you found him, he was closer to the school than to home, so that
means that this must have happened shortly after school was dismissed.” Paul scrunched up his face in a manner that
distorted his features. “Ben, Joe had
probably been lying there for about three, maybe even four hours.”
Paul
looked down at his patient and re-checked the eyes. His expression was grim; he didn’t like what
he was seeing.
“What’s
wrong, Paul?” questioned Ben, watching the lines deepen on the physician’s
face.
Paul
took a deep breath. “I’m not certain
Ben, but if Joe was knocked out instantly then it’s possible that over the time
period that he laid there with no medical care, I’m thinking that it’s very
likely that he’s slipped into a coma.”
“A
coma?” said Adam moving to his father’s side.
“But that means he could…”
“Let’s
hope he comes out of it before anything like that should happen,” Paul butted
in to say.
“Ben,
let’s just keep him as comfortable as possible, try to force the liquids,
hopefully he’ll be receptive of them. We
don’t want him to start getting dehydrated.
He might spike a fever, but that’s just because of the shock his body is
in, unless it gets too high, don’t worry, just keep a cool cloth to his head
and if need be, wipe him down with tepid water, not cold, but just cool,”
instructed the physician.
“I’ll
drop by sometime in the morning to check on him, if you need me before then,
send word.”
Ben
walked as far as the hallway with the doctor.
“Thanks for coming Paul.”
“Anytime,
Ben. Remember, keep him quiet, though I
don’t think he’s likely to give you any trouble,” smiled Paul, remembering
other visits to see the patient in question and having to practically sit on
the boy to keep him from jumping up and running off.
“Paul,”
said Ben, checking back over his shoulder into the room where he could see Joe
lying so deathlike on the bed. “What
happens if he doesn’t wake up soon, or if he stays in this coma for more than
several hours? I mean, how long can a
person live like that?”
Dr.
Martin swallowed hard, there would be no skipping around the truth with Ben, he
already knew that for certain. “Ben, no
one can say for sure how long a man can live in a coma. We’ve only just begun to understand things
like this, so we can’t make an accurate medical call on this. There’s just no way that we can be sure. I’ve only seen a few men who have been in a
coma…”
“Paul…don’t
humor me, I want the truth.” Ben pointed
back at Joe who looked as if he were sleeping.
“He can’t eat in that condition, he isn’t talking, he isn’t moving, his
head is so swollen he doesn’t even look like himself. Just tell me, how do I keep him alive until
he comes out of this coma you’re talking about?” demanded Ben, his eyes
beginning to mist slightly.
Paul
shook his head; there were times, like this, when he hated his job. How could he tell his best friend that the
boy whom he loved more than his own life might never break through the thick
walls of obscurity that separated him from his loving family?
Paul
placed his hand on Ben’s shoulder and studied the weathered face in front of
him.
“For
now, let him rest. If he hasn’t improved
by this time tomorrow evening, we’ll talk about all of that. I promise Ben, I will do all in my power to
keep the boy alive for as long as possible.
But please understand that I don’t know all there is to know about
things such as this. Right now, he doesn’t
appear to be in any pain, there’s no hemorrhaging that I can find and that’s
good. Joe’s young and strong, he’s
healthy Ben, and he has the will power to fight this thing. Stay close to him and talk to him, I don’t
think he can hear you, but try, just try.
Let him know that you’re close by, that Adam and Hoss are here with him,
too. It could make all the difference in
the world, Ben.”
Ben
sighed and wiped his opened hand across his face. “I’m sorry Paul, it’s just that…that it’s
hard for me to see the boy like this…he’s usually so…alive. You know him about as well as we do, so it’s
hard to think of him being…”
“I
know Ben, I understand. Look, I’ll drop
by first thing in the morning and look in on him.”
Ben
walked to the top of the stairs with the doctor. “Thanks again Paul.”
The
loud rolling thunder jarred Ben from his thoughts and brought him upright in
his chair. He glanced at Joe, the boy
had not moved again and remained in the same position where he had turned him
an hour or so ago. Ben stood, stretched and walked to the window. The rain had still not started to come down
any harder than mere drizzle. The
lightening was still doing its dance across the skies, flashing almost
immediately on the heels of the booming thunder.
Ben
retraced his steps to the bed and leaning down, kissed his son’s cheek. “Joe, I’m going to turn you over son. You need to change sides for a little while,”
whispered Ben as he worked to move Joe over on his other side.”
It
took several tries before Ben was able to situate the boy to his
satisfaction. He fluffed the pillows and
then tucked one behind his son’s back so that Joe could not roll over onto his
back. Ben smiled to himself; it wasn’t
as if Joe had been doing any moving, thought Ben. When Ben had finished, he returned to his
soft chair, leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
Ben
was unaware of the length of time that he dozed, only that his solitude was
shattered by an ear splitting boom that sounded as if a cannon had been
fired. He jumped from his chair and ran
to the window just as the lightening ripped opened the heavens. Ben jerked back the curtains, his heart moved
to his throat as he watched the jagged bolt of electricity reach out and wrap
it’s killing fingers around the roof of his barn. Ben’s eyes widened in horror as the sparks
shot upward, igniting the roof into flames.
Ben
turned, gave a quick glance at his son and bolted from the room, yelling for
Adam and Hoss at the top of his lungs.
“ADAM…HOSS…FIRE!!”
he bellowed.
“THE
BARN, HURRY!” he screamed as he dashed for the front door.
“WE’RE
RIGHT BEHIND YA, PA,” Hoss called out as he hopped down the long hallway trying
to cram his feet into his boots.
Adam
almost collided with his brother in his haste to get to the stairs. “Hurry, Hoss, we have to get the horses out!”
yelled Adam as he pushed past his brother.
Ben
was already inside the barn, untying the horses and shooing them out the
door. Buck tore from his stall in fear of
the hot flames that danced high over his head.
Adam rushed in just as Sport bolted passed him and hurried to free Chubb
from his stall.
Hoss
had ran to the water trough and had begun to fill buckets with water and pass
them to the ranch hands who had also been awakened by the thunderous boom and
who had joined the family outside in their fury to save the barn.
Chubb
was resisting, pulling away from Adam in his fright as the smoke grew heavy and
thick within the walls of the aged barn.
“Come on Chubby, now’s not the time to be a mule-headed idiot!” cursed
Adam as he tugged on the big stallion’s halter.
“Blindfold
him!” shouted Ben as he loosened the tethering rope that prevented Cochise from
bolting free of the smoke filled barn.
“Come on baby, I can’t let anything happen to you. Little Joe would never forgive me if you
didn’t get out…now come on,” urged Ben as he tried to calm the young
horse.
Cochise
bulked and with a jerk of his head, yanked his halter out of Ben’s hands. He whinnied loudly and reared up. When his heavy hooves came down, one hoof
grazed Ben’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground and then raced from the barn,
nearly crushing the man on the ground.
Adam
finally freed Chubb from the barn and when he turned, saw his father trying to
get up. Instantly he was beside his
father and hauled the dazed man to his feet.
“Come
on, Pa…lets get out of here,” shouted Adam so that he might be heard over the
deafening thunder. Ben shook his head to
chase away the cobwebs and allowed Adam to practically drag him from the barn.
Outside,
the ranch hands had formed two lines, passing bucket after bucket to the next
man in line to the end, where that man tossed the water onto the burning
building. The fire had been contained to
the roof and several men stood on ladders where water was passed up to them.
Suddenly
another roar of thunder and a bright flash of light froze the men in
mid-action. The heavens were split in two as they opened up, allowing the rain
to descend down upon their heads. The torrential raindrops where colossal in
size, and within minutes had doused the fire that had threatened to destroy the
Cartwright’s barn.
The
men cheered, caring not that they had been hauled from their warm beds in the
middle of the night only to stand in the pouring rain. Ben laughed, slapped the backs of several men
and shouted his thanks to all of them.
The barn would need a new roof, but everything within its walls had been
spared a fiery death.
The
storm had blown itself out and all that remained was the rain, which had given
up its fierceness and now fell in a soft pitter-patter to the water soaked
earth. Ben slipped an arm around Hoss’
shoulder and then Adam’s as the three weary men marched together through the
mud back toward the house.
Suddenly
Ben stopped, apparently frozen to the spot.
Adam and Hoss both looked questioningly at their father and then
followed his gaze. Neither could believe
their eyes and both were sure that they must have appeared as shocked as their
father was.
“Pa?”
the plea was weak and the boy, clad only in his nightshirt, staggered as he
tried to make his way forward. He
stumbled and caught himself on the post at the end of the porch and leaned
heavily against the strong pole.
Ben
broke free from his sons and ran across the yard. “Joseph,” cried Ben, grasping his son to
prevent him from sinking to the ground.
“What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?” he sang.
“The
barn…it was on fire…” Joe’s eyes appeared glassy as he searched his father’s
face. “Cochise…” he cried, the tears
filling his eyes.
“Shh…he’s
fine son, we got all the horses out.”
Ben had slipped his arms about Joe’s body and had started leading him
back indoors.
Joe
turned his head to look over his shoulder at the barn. “Cochise!” he cried louder and then his legs
gave out and Ben was forced to scoop the boy up in his arms.
“Cochise
is safe Joseph, he’s in the corral with the other horses. Please son, don’t cry, don’t cry,” urged Ben
as he hurried up the stairs to place Joe back in the bed.
“Are
you…sure?” Joe whispered as Ben lowered him onto the bed. “You gave him to me…my
birthday…remember? He was…the best
gift…ever.”
“Yes
son, I remember and I’m positive he’s safe,” smiled Ben as he sat next to his
son.
“Joe,
how do you feel?” he asked, smiling up at his other two sons as they filed into
the room and gathered around the bed.
“My
head, it hurts some…but the noise…it woke me up…and then I couldn’t find
you. I called and called, but no one
answered me…” cried Joe, his eyes brimming with unshed tears once more.
Ben
pulled the boy into his arms and held him closely. “I’m so sorry Precious, but the lightening
hit the barn and set the roof on fire.
You were still sleeping when I left you, we had to put the fire out,
son.”
“I
know…but I was sorta…scared. I saw the
flames through the window and I didn’t know where any of you were.” Joe clung to his father, his arms wrapped
about Ben’s midsection and he pressed his ear against his father’s beating
heart. “Have I been out a long time?” he
questioned.
“Too
long Short Shanks,” laughed Hoss, grinning from ear to ear with happiness.
“It’s
about time you woke up little buddy. We
were beginning to think that you were going to sleep your life away,” added
Adam, a smile causing his dimples to melt into his cheek and turn the handsome
face into one that resembled a young boy rather than the man he had become.
Joe
giggled and then turned his eyes up at his father. “I’m sorry Pa…about not fixing the
fence. I’ll do it tomorrow, I promise.”
Ben
burst out in laughter and hugged Joe to him.
“Don’t worry about the fence, little boy, your brothers repaired it for
you. All you’re going to be doing
tomorrow and the next day and the next is resting. You are not allowed out of this bed until Doc
Martin says you can, young man.”
“Aw…Pa…”
“Don’t
‘aw Pa’ me. You’ll do as I say!” ordered
Ben, his voice thick with emotion as he smiled down into the face of his
youngest son. ‘Thank you God,’ Ben’s
heart silently offered.
Ben
gently pushed Joe back against the pile of pillows and settled him into
bed. “Now, no more talking, I want you
to rest. It’ll be morning in a couple of
hours and then Hop Sing can fix you something to eat. Now, close your eyes, we’ll talk later.”
“Okay,
I am sorta tired. Night Hoss, night
Adam,” Joe said in a barely audible voice as his brothers filed from the room.
“Night
Pa,” smiled Joe as his eyes closed.
Ben
leaned down close to Joe’s head. “Good
night Joseph, I love you,” he whispered.
Joe’s
arms slipped about his father’s neck and briefly he opened his eyes and smiled
up at his father. “I love you too,
Joe’s
arms dropped to his sides, he was sleeping, but this time, Ben was positive
that come morning, his baby would wake and then he could take all the time he
wanted just to look into the beautiful hazel eyes that he knew would once again
dance with mischief.
Ben
remained at Joe’s bedside throughout the night, refusing to leave the boy’s
side now, since Joe had miraculously awakened and had actually spoken to
him. His fears had vanished the minute
that he had spotted his son standing on the porch calling out to him. He had known in that instant deep within his
heart, that regardless of Joe’s outcome from having been in a coma, Ben would
love and cherish his son until the day came that one or the other of them took
their last breath.
Ben
leaned down and tenderly caressed the face of his sleeping child. Joe moaned softly and turned over onto his
side, facing his father. Ben couldn’t
keep the smile from his face; his joy was complete, for his son had none of the
awful side effects that the physician had warned him about. Joe had known him; he had recognized his
brothers and the fact that the barn had been on fire. Joe had even been aware that his beloved
pinto’s life had been endangered by the fire and had understood when his father
had assured him that the horse was safe.
The
relieved father leaned back against the chair, in which he sat and closed his
eyes. Sometime later, a sense of being
watched snapped him to life. His head
remained pressed against the back of the chair as his eyes popped opened. The light within the room shone brightly
through the opened window where the early morning rays filtered in through the
shears filling the room with a soft, warm glow.
Ben’s
eyes rested on the smiling face of his youngest son, who happened to be staring
at him. Ben’s lips formed a happy
smile. “Well, good morning, young man.”
“Mornin’
Pa,” Joe said, his voice low. “Did ya
get much sleep?”
“Enough,
how about you? How do you feel this
morning?” asked Ben, leaning over and pushing back the stray locks of Joe’s
curly hair.
“I’m
fine,” Joe admitted. “But a little
hungry. What’s a guy gotta do around
here to get something to eat?” he teased lightly, pleased to see his father
smiling at him.
Ben
stood to his feet, grinning from ear to ear, “I’ll be right back, son. I’ll have Hop Sing fix you something,” he
said as he started to the door.
“Anything special you’re craving?”
“Yeah,
a big steak, fried potatoes, and a stack of flapjacks, with that special syrup
Hop Sing has,” laughed Little Joe.
Ben
couldn’t help but join in his son’s laughter as he paused at the door. “How about some soft cooked eggs and toast,
something a little lighter on the stomach?” Ben suggested.
Joe
smiled; he had only been teasing his father, he doubted seriously if he would
be able to even eat what his father had recommended. “Sure Pa, eggs and toast is fine,
thanks. Oh, could I at least have a cup
of coffee?”
“How
about hot chocolate instead?”
“That’s
okay,” smiled Joe.
Ben
turned and then stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder at the boy
whose eyes were fixed on him. “Welcome
back, son.”
“It’s
good to be back,
“Thanks
Pa,” he smiled as the tears made their escape and rolled gently down the front
of his face.
Like
his son’s, Ben’s eyes filled with tears and he gulped. “You’re welcomed, Joseph.”
With
that, Ben pulled the door closed and slowly, with gratitude in his heart to God
for sparing his child, Ben made his way to the kitchen.
Later
that afternoon, Paul Martin was welcomed at the home of the Cartwrights by
three smiling faces. He instantly knew
that something good had transpired since his last visit, two nights ago. He himself smiled.
“Let
me guess…Joe woke up, right?”
“Right…and
he seems fine, already grumbling about having to stay in the bed,” laughed
Ben. “I was just taking him his lunch,
want to see for yourself?”
“Of
course, that’s what I’m here for,” replied the doctor as he followed Ben up the
stairs. “Say Ben, what happened to your
barn?”
Ben
paused and glanced at Adam and Hoss who were trailing behind the doctor. “Let’s just call it a miracle, shall we?” he laughed.
Paul
looked back at the two oldest Cartwright brothers who were also laughing and
noted the pleased expression on their faces.
“Whatever you say, old friend!”
Paul
was as pleased as Joe’s family to find the boy sitting up in bed and smiling as
he entered the room. “Well, well,”
laughed Paul lightly, “it’s about time you woke up and stopped worrying all of
us, you little scamp,” Paul said as he sat down on the bed, next to Joe.
“Feeling
all right?” he asked pressing his hand against Joe’s forehead as he checked for
fever.
Joe
giggled. “It’s good to see you too.”
Paul’s
eyes danced with merriment as he smiled at the boy. “Somehow, I just don’t think you mean
that. I can’t remember a time in my
life, or yours for that matter, that I have felt as if you were happy to see
me, except maybe the night you were born,” teased the doctor.
Ben
laughed, watching the smile widen on his son’s face. “Paul, something tells me that this time, Joe
means exactly what he said. Am I right,
son?”
Joe’s
eyes found his father’s and he nodded his head.
“I mean it doc, it’s good to see you, and everyone else,” he added in a
low voice. “I’m glad to be back.”
Paul
pressed his lips together and placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder. His look had turned serious as he stared into
the hazel eyes that threatened to fill with tears.
“Joe,
you have had a close call…too close for our liking. I want you to know you had us all scared
because we weren’t sure that you would make it.
Not too many people, who slip as deeply into a coma as you did, ever
wake up. It was a miracle son, plain and
simple.”
Paul
relaxed then and gave the boy a smile.
“Now, since everything seems to check out all right, you can eat your
lunch. But, young man, I want you to
remain in this bed until I tell you that you can get up.”
“Aw…”
“Joseph,”
Ben said, his tone serious enough that Joe said nothing more on the matter,
though he did give his father a heartwarming little lopsided smile, that caused
Ben’s lips to make a smile of his own.
For
several days, Joe did as instructed and with each new day, gained more and more
strength in his weakened body. Ben or
one of Joe’s brothers was constantly close by, to keep the boy company and to
keep him from being bored.
“How’s
the new roof on the barn coming along, Pa?” Joe asked one day while he watched
Ben at the window, studying the progress.
Ben
turned and nodded his head at his son.
“They should have it finished in another day, I’d say,” explained Ben as
he returned to the bedside and took a seat.
“Joe,
I’ve been wondering about something, son” hinted Ben.
Joe
placed his water glass on the table next to the bed and faced his father. “What’s that, Pa?”
Ben
pinched his lips together tightly and then took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you remembered what
happened to you? How did you get hit on
the back of the head?”
Joe
dropped his head, hiding his eyes from his father. He remembered. He remembered well…the pain that had shot
through his head, the fall from his horse, but what he remembered most, were
the dusty boots inches from his face and when he had looked up into the face
that loomed over him, he remembered the sadistic laughter. But he couldn’t, nor would he tell his father
who that person was, or why that person had seen fit to strike out at him. This was a score that he would settle for
himself, later, when his body had healed and he was stronger, more like his
former self.
“Joseph?”
Ben said, his voice soft yet commanding.
Joe
turned his eyes up at his father, seeing in the chocolate depth, compassion and
love. He knew he was expected to answer
his father’s question, but how, without lying?
Again, Joe allowed his chin to drop.
He hated lying to his father, but how could he get around the subject
without revealing the other person’s name?
“All
I remember…” he stammered as he slowly lifted his head to watch his father’s
expression. “Is the pain in the back of
my head, and then falling off Cochise.
After that, I blacked out and I don’t recall anything until the thunder
woke me up the other night.”
“And
nothing more?”
Joe
shook his head back and forth. “I’m
sorry, Pa…”
Ben
quickly moved to the bed where he sat down and took Joe’s hand into his,
smiling at his son. “There’s nothing for
you to be sorry for Joe. Perhaps later,
you’ll be able to remember what happened, don’t trouble yourself with it
now. Right now, I want you to rest, Paul
should be here in a little while, until then, you try to relax and get some
sleep.”
Ben
brushed the back of his hand down the side of Joe’s face in a tender
caress. His son wasn’t fooling him in
the least. Ben knew that Joe was keeping
something from him that the boy had not wanted his father to know. He was somewhat discouraged that his son had
not seen fit to confide in him, but reasoned that Joe must have his reasons to
want to keep to himself, what had actually happened. Ben respected that, he wasn’t please to think
that someone might have injured his son on purpose, but could only hope that in
the near future, Joe would feel as if he could admit the truth about how and
why he had been injured. Until that day
came, Ben would have to wait.
Ben
repositioned the pillows and when Joe had situated himself in the bed, he
pulled the covers up and leaned down, placing a kiss on the top of Joe’s
head. “You rest now son, I’ll be back up
when the doctor gets here.”
“All
right Pa, I will. Say, do you think he
might let me get up for awhile? It’s
getting pretty stuffy in here, and I’d really like to take a short walk to the barn,
you know…to check things out,” asked Joe hopefully.
Ben
snickered, “I think maybe Paul might let you up, as far as going to the
barn…we’ll have to wait and see about that.
Now go to sleep!” laughed Ben as he closed the door.
Joe
waited until his father was out of sight and then turned over on his side. His hand rubbed gently at the tender spot
where the goose egg sized knot had once been.
“Just
wait…you and I will settle this score once and for all, Lucas Tatum!” swore Joe
as his eyes closed in slumber.
THE END
April 2003