TURKEY DAY ON THE PONDEROSA

 

 

By Debbie Beshears

DLB1248@aol.com

         And

Jennie Allender

Fourcartwrights@comcast.net

 

 

"There is no way, do you understand me young man, no way am I eating opossum for Thanksgiving!" shouted Ben.

 

He had been having like conversations such as this with his two youngest sons for over a month now. Why in heaven’s name had he ever agreed to allow these two to talk him into keeping the old Tom as a pet? Ben rubbed his chin; he must have been out of his ever-loving mind to agree to something so stupid.

 

It had begun just about six weeks earlier when Hoss who was fifteen and Little Joe who was nine had begged him to be allowed to snare the Thanksgiving Day turkey and keep it in a pen to fatten up for the holiday meal. Adam had advised against it but Ben, who could rarely refuse his younger sons anything, had willingly agreed to their plan. That had been his undoing, as now the two young boys had grown attached to the gobbler and when he had made mention of eating the turkey for supper on Thanksgiving, Little Joe had burst into tears, Hoss had whined and complained all evening against the fact. Little Joe had kept them up half the night with nightmares, resulting in the entire family losing a night’s sleep. Since that night two weeks ago, things had gone from bad to worse. The boys had brought home rabbit for the holiday meal, only to decide they were too cute to kill and eat. Next, Hoss had suggested squirrel and when he had found several babies, he brought them home and ended up having to hand feed them. With Hoss’ natural tender heart, he then stomped around muttering for days that he would not, nor would he allow anyone to have his babies as their evening meal.

 

Ben was at a loss as what to do about Thanksgiving dinner, he really wanted turkey, Adam agreed that without it, the holiday would seem just like another day to them. He had suggested chicken or roast pig but they dined on that fairly often, so neither father nor oldest son thought much of that idea. Hoss had jumped in about that time and suggested raccoon. All four had almost agreed at that point but then Hop Sing, refused to cook it, saying it went against some belief of his people to harm raccoons, so the little masked rodent had also been eliminated from the menu.

 

Deer and bear had been brought into the conversation, but bear was ruled out, it was too close to the time that bear went into the high country to hibernate. Deer was an option, if one could be found but neither Ben nor Adam had much time for hunting at this time of year. Ben suggested killing a calf and roasting it outside in the bar-b-q pit.  But when the word, kill, slipped through his lips during the conversation, Little Joe again became upset at the idea of killing and eating one of the big sad eyed, soft nosed, cute as pie, baby cows, as Joe had put it to his father. They even talked about fish for the main course but after the boys had spent hours fishing, the five rainbow trout that they had brought home, were now calling the water trough, home. The boys had decided to keep them for pets instead of allowing them to become supper.

 

Duck and geese were abundant now, most were flying on a southern route for winter and were stopping over at dusk on the lake. Ben rather liked that idea; at least it was still in the bird family and had feathers. Maybe, just maybe he thought, Hoss and Little Joe would agree to that and then perhaps he could encourage them to release the numerous creatures that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his barn. Tonight thought Ben, during the supper hour, I will bring the idea out into the open to see how his younger two sons would except this idea.

 

Suppertime arrived and Ben was thankful that all of his sons had managed to find their seats on time. Hop Sing brought the meal in and grace was said, Ben giving thanks for the blessings that each of his sons brought to him, for the health of his family and for the food that was provided. Ben also asked a special blessing for the one whom had, for many years, prepared those meals.

"Adam, Hoss, Joseph, we need to decide what we are going to do about Thanksgiving supper. Now Joseph, let me finish, before you go off half cocked," Ben said as he raised his hand in the air to silence his youngest son’s protest.

 

Ben knew that Little Joe would be the first to speak out against having turkey and Hoss would follow his younger brother’s lead, protesting against eating any such creature that the two of them had sheltered in his barn.

 

Adam continued eating his meal; he knew what had been going on with his brothers and his father. Poor Pa had made the mistake of mentioning killing the ole Tom that his brothers had penned out behind the barn and in so doing had unleashed a barrel full of tears and complaints. Adam had tried to warn his father about allowing those two to keep the turkey until such time that the death of said Tom would take place, but had his father listened? No, he had instead given in to Hoss and Little Joe, so decided Adam, let Pa figure how to worm his way out of his little problem.

 

"Pa, I don’t rightly know what to have, I jest can’t see eating any of them critters Joe and I have in the barn. Don’t seem right ta me somehow," Hoss told his father.

 

Little Joe was watching Hoss as his brother explained to their father and turned to check his father’s reaction.

 

"Pa, ya always said that murder was wrong, wouldn’t it be murder if’n ya kilt’em?" Little Joe asked innocently.

 

"Well, yes murder is wrong son, but this is different," Ben started to explain. "You see son…"

 

"How’s it different? Ya goin’ ta kill’em, that makes’em dead, then you ‘spect us ta eat’em, I’d call that murder, wouldn’t ya?"

 

Joe cast sorrowful eyes at his father. From the other end of the table, Adam had a coughing fit.

 

Ever since Ben had taken the boys on a hunting trip to get a turkey for Thanksgiving, Little Joe had refused to eat meat. Night after night Ben would try to reason with him about his nonsense. Joe didn’t see it that way. He had never thought about the fact of eating meat involved actually killing an animal. No matter how many times Ben or Adam had tried to explain the circle of life to him, the stubborn streak in Joe would not let it sink in.

 

"He’s got you there Pa," Adam said softly when he was able to get his cough under control.

 

Ben shot Adam a warning look, indicating that such thoughts be kept to himself. Adam only smiled at his father. Ben glared at his oldest, he knew he would get no help from him, Adam had tried to warn him and Ben knew that now Adam would gloat, I told you so, would soon follow. How had his oldest son become so smart, Ben wondered? And when had all this taken place?

 

"Never mind boys, I’ll think of something, we still have about two weeks before Thanksgiving Day." Ben gave up the conversation, not sure yet what he would do, but right now he was tired of worrying about it.

 

Later that evening, Ben rested in his favorite chair, Adam sat reading in his blue chair and Hoss and Little Joe were playing a game of checkers. Ben’s thought’s turned again to the holiday meal, not sure how he would handle it. Perhaps, he thought, he could send Charlie or one of the other trusted hands out to hunt a turkey. If he had Hop Sing, prepare the bird while the younger boys were away, maybe they would not realize that what they would be eating would have once been alive. Ben knew he was grasping at straws, Hoss wasn’t that nieve, Joseph, on the other hand might just fall for it. Maybe he could talk some sense into Hoss and get him to go along with his idea. Ben smiled to himself, perhaps, he thought, I have just found my answer, and with that thought in mind, he ordered his youngest son to bed.

 

Little Joe had sat down at the top of the stairs listening to his Pa and Adam talk, something that he had gotten very good at doing. He couldn’t make out everything that was being said but he did manage to pick up on a few words, and they included the word hunting. He quietly tipped toed down a few steps and watched them leave the house. Joe made sure that Hop Sing wasn’t around and slipped out the front door, following them to the barn.

Little Joe stopped short of the entranceway when he heard his father talking to Charlie. They were discussing him leaving in the morning on another hunting trip, a turkey-hunting trip! ‘Oh, no, he ain’t gonna kill a turkey,’ he thought as he ran back towards the house. He slammed the large oak door and ran past Hop Sing who was starting to set out coffee for his older brother and Pa.

 

"No run in house, Lit’le Joe. Very, very bad boy. Mister Cartlight be very angry at boy for run in house." Hop Sing shook his head as the boy ignored his command and continued running up the stairs. "No one listen to Hop Sing. Hop Sing quit. Go back to San Francisco with number 3 cousin."

 

Upstairs, Joe had flung himself onto this bed. "Ain’t no way that man is gonna kill a turkey. It ain’t right. We can eat veggies and pie for dinner, ain’t gotta have meat."

 

Now alone in his room, he thought hard about how he could stop that man from hurting one of Tom’s kin. He didn’t hear the door open nor see anyone enter the room, until Ben sat down on the edge of the bed. He placed a comforting hand on Joe’s back and began to rub.

 

"Hop Sing said that you seemed upset over something. Anything I can help you with?" Ben continued to rub the boy’s back as he spoke softly to him.

 

"No, Pa. I’m gonna go to bed now. I don’t feel very well." Joe mumbled, trying his darnedest to sound convincing.

 

Ben automatically reached and felt his son’s forehead. "You don’t feel warm." Ben shifted his weight on the bed and resumed the back rub as he probed for answers. "Joseph, I sent you up to bed over a half hour ago. Why were you up again? What’s bothering you?"

 

Joe shrugged his shoulders, suddenly finding it difficult to stay awake. His Pa always had a way with his back rubs.

 

"I don’t know, just don’t feel myself." His eyes closed indicating to his father that he wanted to sleep.

 

"Well, goodnight then, son. Call if you need anything and I will be up later to check on you." Ben took Joe’s boots off and pulled up the quilt from the foot of the bed. He gently covered his son and leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek. "Sleep tight, little one."

 

 

It was a rainy night and the owls had started their nightly conversation as they sat perched in the Ponderosa pines just outside Joe’s window. He sat up in bed trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

 

"WHOOOM, WHOOOM."

 

Joe slipped out of the warmth of his bed and stumbled to the window. With his nose pressed tightly against the glass he strained to see the owls. His eyes grew wide with fear as he backed away from the frosted window. Joe turned around and ran to his door flinging it open. He could feel his heart racing as he ran down the hall to Hoss’ room.

 

"Hoss, wake up, quick. They’re comin’, Hoss." Joe grabbed a tight hold of Hoss’ shoulder and shook with all of his strength. "Hurry, Hoss. They’re after us."

 

Hoss sat up and shoved his brother off him.

 

"What in tarnation is wrong with ya, Joe? It’s the middle of the night."

 

"Hoss, they’re comin’. We have to hide." Joe reached out and pulled on his brother’s arm. "Come on, hurry!"

 

"Dadburn it, Joe. Who and what is comin’?" Hoss allowed his brother to pull him from the comforts of his bed.

 

"This better be good, Joe, else I’m gonna skin ya alive."

"You won’t have to skin me, they are goin’ to," Joe cried out as he continued to pull Hoss across the room. "Hurry, we have to get Pa and Adam."

 

Both Adam and his father stopped Joe in the hallway.

 

"Would someone like to fill me in as to what in God’s name the two of you are doing up in the middle of the night carrying on like this?" Ben's voice echoed in the stillness of the hallway as Adam lit the lantern on the table. "Does anyone care to know what time it is?"

 

"Pa, quick! They’re comin’." Joe tried to push his father back into his room. "They are gonna kill us." He was becoming incoherent as the sweat broke out on his young body.

 

Ben was prepared to carry Joe back into his room when he heard something or someone coming up the stairs. He motioned for Adam to take the boys into his room as he quietly pulled out a gun that he had hidden in the drawer of the table. Ben cautiously walked toward the stairs and held the lantern up so he could get a better view of what was making the noise in his home.

 

He gasped and ran into his room, slamming the door behind him.

 

"What is it, Pa?" inquired Adam as he placed Joe on the bed next to Hoss. "Who’s out there?"

 

Before Ben could answer him, Adam walked toward the door.

 

"No, Adam. Don’t open that door. Joseph was right, they are coming for us." Ben sat down on his bed and drew his two younger sons towards his chest. "Get the other gun out of my nightstand and be ready to shoot, Adam."

 

As Adam withdrew the gun from the drawer, the bedroom door was kicked in and there stood the biggest tom turkey they had ever laid their eyes on. Behind it stood a buck, a boar, four rabbits, one raccoon, two squirrels and one goose. All held hunting knives in the air ready to strike out at their enemies.

 

"See, Pa I told ya, didn’t I?" asked Little Joe as he pulled the blanket over his head. "They’re gonna kill us."

 

Ben finally found his voice and stood from the bed. "What do you want from us?" he demanded.

 

"Mister, you know what we want. Revenge! Revenge for all the kinfolk that you and your sons have slaughtered over the years. ‘Eye for an eye,’ that’s what the bible says. Now who dies first?"

 

The tom turkey started toward Ben.

 

"PA!! No, no, not my Pa. Adam, help him!" The cries of Little Joe woke the house as he continued to live out his nightmare.

 

Adam was the first to arrive, wearing only his black jeans. He tried unsuccessfully to wake the boy from the nightmare that held him tightly in its grasps of fear. He stepped back as Ben hurried across the room. Ben knew that this had to be the nightmare of nightmares. Never before had he heard his youngest cry out in that magnitude before.

 

It took the better part of an hour to calm Little Joe enough to get him back into bed. Out in the hallway, Adam stopped Ben.

 

"So, now what do we do about Thanksgiving dinner? It’s quite obvious that all this talk about killing animals is now affecting his mental status."

 

Ben shook his head in defeat. "I just don’t know what to do with that one. Dreaming of animals wanting to kill us."

 

Ben had to smile as he thought back on the story that Joe had told them in his room. "Maybe Paul could have a talk with him."

 

Adam chuckled and placed his arm around Ben’s shoulder.

 

"Sure, Pa. I bet Paul will love the fact that you passed the buck to him." The laughter continued as Adam added, "No pun intended, Pa."

 

Ben slid out of Adam’s embrace and headed for his room. "I’m going to bed."

 

He stopped in the doorway, turned around and jabbed a finger at Adam’s chest. "And I don’t want to hear another word about turkeys. Good night, son."

 

 

Joe sat up in his bed. He had heard the other bedroom doors close. He slid from beneath the covers and quietly dressed himself. While he waited for the rest of the house to surrender to sleep, Joe quickly packed his satchel, making sure that he had packed his most prized possessions. He included his bag of marbles, even though most of them belonged to Hoss; his slingshot; his wooden gun and Adam’s old leather holster to hold his gun. Joe made sure he also packed the photo of his mother and last but not least, Scruffy. He sneaked down the stairs, making sure that he avoided stepping on those steps that would be an instant alarm call to his family. Joe hesitated momentarily as he watched the embers glowing in the fireplace. Joe shook his head to clear the thoughts of his family before picking up the book that Adam had left lying on the planked table. He glanced around the great room and saw that his Pa had left his pipe sitting on the ashtray. He quickly snatched it up, not realizing that the tobacco had fallen to the floor, and placed it in his satchel along with Adam’s book. He knew his father had another pipe in his desk and didn’t think his father would be too upset about losing one of them.

 

A small smile crept across his face while holding a lantern in his hand. He thought of a way that he could light the lantern without disobeying his father’s stern words that he was never to touch the forbidden matches. Joe took a piece of kindling out of the hold box and cautiously poked it into the hot embers of the fire. He used that to light the lantern allowing him to make his way through the darkness out to the barn. Joe was getting antsy as he impatiently waited for Hoss to arrive.

 

"Hey, Joe!" whispered Hoss, a bit too loud for Joe’s liking, causing the young boy to jump. "What are we gonna do ‘bout our critters."

 

Joe had taken a deep breath and decided not to harp on Hoss at the moment. "We’re gonna take ‘em with us. Can’t leave ‘em here, they’ll be sure to be eaten if we do."

 

Hoss decided that lifting the washtub up on the back of the wagon was out of the question. The boys were further delayed while they went in search of something to transport their fish in. Little Joe found Hop Sing’s laundry tub near the side door of the house and with Hoss’ help they loaded it on the wagon. Using the dipper from the water bucket, they transferred the fish to the laundry tub. After spending the better part of an hour loading their animal friends in the back of the buckboard, the two young boys struggled to hitch up a team of horses.

 

Hoss took hold of the bridle to lead them out of the barn. Joe closed the barn doors and extinguishing the lantern, climbed aboard to sit next to Hoss.

 

"Where’s we gonna go, Hoss?" Joe asked as he nervously glanced up at the second story of the house. He wanted to make sure that no one had heard them leaving.

 

"Reckon we ought’a go to one of the line shacks. Pa always makes sure that there is plenty of canned goods stocked up there for the winter." Hoss gave the signal to the team and together he and Little Joe escaped the murderers that their older brother and Pa had become.

 

 

Adam was already seated at the breakfast table when Ben joined him.

 

"Morning, Adam. I expected to see Hoss already downstairs," he commented as Adam poured him a hot cup of coffee.

 

He passed his father the plate of scrambled eggs.  “He’s still in bed, along with that little one of yours."

 

"You will need to get them up and moving, Adam. You and I have a long day ahead of us and we really need to get moving." Ben motioned toward the kitchen as Hop Sing entered the room. "Do you have everything you need for Thanksgiving?" he asked the loyal cook.

 

"Mister Cartlite, Hop Sing need to get supply for Thanksgivin’ dinner. I find that my vegetable supply very short this morning."

 

"Short? What do you mean short?" Adam asked as he stood from the table, drinking the last of his coffee.

 

"Just that, Mister Adam. Someon’ or somethin’ done took my bushel of vegetables. Apples gone too. Can’t make apple pie without apples." Hop Sing threw them a disgusted look and stormed back into the kitchen.

 

Adam held back on the smile that he wanted clearly to display, knowing already who the culprit was, and strutted up the stairs in search of his younger brothers. Within seconds, he appeared at the top of the stairs and yelled, "Pa, both boys are gone, and by the looks of it, they have intentions of being gone for awhile."

 

Ben threw down his napkin and stormed up the stairs. He stood in the doorway taking in the sight of his youngest son’s room. In his haste to leave, Little Joe had dumped out his drawers on the floor and had picked through his clothes, taking only what he felt was necessary. Adam was kneeling in the middle of the pile and looked up at Ben.

 

"We better get looking for those two, seems like all that Little Joe took with him was his favorite belongings. By the looks of the clothes here, it doesn’t look as if he took anything to ward off the colder weather settling in." Adam stood up and using some force, stopped the smile that twitched at his lips.

 

 

On this land, they put their brand

Cartwright was their name.

They killed our friends,

And ate our kin,

But they’ll ner’ do that again!

 

Brothers Hoss and Joe

They both know

A plan to save the day

They worked it out a special way

Now Pa and Adam’ll hav’ta pay.

 

 

"Okay now, ya critters settle down back there and stop that there chantin’," Hoss said as he turned around and spoke to the animals.

 

Joe, who had nearly fallen to sleep, suddenly turned to his older brother, "Who ya talkin’ to Hoss?" he said as he turned backward to see if there was anyone following them.

 

Hoss blushed slightly in the dim morning light and wondered how he could get Little Joe to understand that he could interpret the critters in the back of the wagon when they were talking to each other. He knew his youngest brother would laugh and think he had finally lost his mind.

 

"Uh…no one Little Joe," he fibbed.

 

Joe turned his green eyes up to his brother’s face, "Yes ya were, I heard ya!"

 

"On this land, they put their claim

Cartwright was their name….

 

"Now shut that up!" Hoss yelled.

 

"I didn’t say nuthin’ Hoss! What’s wrong wif ya?" asked Little Joe startled by Hoss’ sudden outburst.

 

Hoss glanced down and saw the tears beginning to pool in his young brother’s eyes.

 

"I’m sorry Punkin, I tweren’t yellin’ at ya. It’s them critters back there, they keep chantin’ and it’s getting on my last nerve," explained Hoss.

 

"Chantin’? What’ll ya mean?" Little Joe asked, wondering if Hoss had gone over the edge.

 

"Little Joe, now don’tca laugh, but I can hear them and understand’em when they’s a talkin’ to each other," Hoss explained.

 

Joe looked at Hoss without speaking, shock clearly evident on his young face. Slowly a smile began forming at the corners of his lips and within minutes, his laughter, which was not commonplace, could be heard throughout the forest. Joe doubled over and held his sides as he continued to giggle.

 

"Oh Hoss," he laughed, "Ya gotta be jokin’?"

 

"Okay, don’t believe me, I don’t care! I should have never let you talk me into the stupid trick anyway. Pa’s gonna be mad at both of us and I’ll probably get blamed and end up across his lap. Dadburnit Joe, stopped that laughin’ at me," cried Hoss who was beginning to get angry with his baby brother.

 

Joe did his best to bring himself under control, but could not help it when occasionally a giggle would escape until they had finally made it to the line shack.

 

Hoss unhitched the team of horses and led them to the watering trough. As he saw to the attention of the horses, Little Joe began unloading the small critters from the back of the wagon. By the time Hoss returned to assist Joe, he had managed to unload the rabbits and the two plucked chickens. Hoss stood at the back of the wagon and directed Joe to slide the turkey crate toward him. Joe was having a difficult time in carrying out Hoss’ request as he succumbed once again to giggling.

 

"Dadburn it, Little Joe," commented Hoss as he watched his younger brother fall to his knees, overcome with laughter. "Ya’re makin’ me mad!" Hoss yelled as he took a swing at Joe, lightly popping the boy upside the back of the head.

 

Joe swallowed the next giggle and forced himself to stand. Abiding by his older brother’s request, Joe pushed the crate to the edge of the buckboard so Hoss could unload it. When Hoss returned to the wagon for the next cage, he noticed that Joe had tears pooled in his hazel eyes.

 

"What’s the mat’er with ya, little feller?" Hoss asked concerned that maybe he had walloped his little brother a bit too hard.

 

Joe’s dirty hand smeared away the now fallen tears and gazed into his brother’s face.

 

"You’re scaring me, Hoss," whispered the boy as he wiped his nose clean using the back of his hand.

Hoss glared at Joe, knowing his nine-year old brother had heard him talking to the turkey before returning to the wagon. Nonchalantly waving his hand in the air, Hoss commented.

 

"Ah, don’tcha worry none ‘bout me, punkin. I was jus’ talkin’ to myself."

 

He held out his hand for Joe to take and pulled the younger boy to his feet. "Let’s git this wagon unloaded and find us somethin’ to eat. I’m starving!"

 

Minutes later the two weary runaways entered the dark shack. Joe opened the warped shutters to help brighten up the isolate cabin. Hoss rummaged through the cabinets secretly hoping that Adam had restocked the shack for the upcoming winter months. Together the boys wiped away the dust from the unleveled table and sat to eat a can of cold beans and hard tack.

 

Hoss had no qualms about eating the measly meal but could see that Joe was having a difficult time with his serving.

 

"If ya not gonna eat it, Little Joe, pass it over. Can’t have it goin’ to waste. ‘Member what Pa said ‘bout wasting good food when so many other people in the world are less fortunate then us?"

 

Joe glared at his older brother and subconsciously blamed him for not packing up something other than fruit from Hop Sing’s kitchen. He shoved his dented plate across the table at Hoss.

 

"Well, if ya think it’s so good, then you eat it." Joe pushed himself away from the table and stomped off to sit on the soot covered hearth.

 

Hoss recognized the homesick look that was etched on his brother’s face and sat down next to him. He put an arm around the thin boy’s shoulder and hugged him to his chest.

 

"Joe, why don’t we take a breather and rest up some ‘fore we have to tend to the live stock. I don’t know about ya, but I’m sure tired after gettin’ up before the sun."

 

Joe forced himself to smile and nodded his head in agreement. After fetching Scruffy from his carpetbag, Joe unrolled his bedroll and laid down. The dampness that still lingered in the air caused Joe to shutter and he asked Hoss to build a small fire.

 

Tasked completed, Hoss joined his brother on the dirt floor and closed his eyes. The mumbling he believed came from his younger brother disturbed his sleep. Hoss had grown accustomed to Joe’s nightmares and pulled the blanket over his head to muffle out the sounds. It was the poking in his back that caused Hoss to throw back his blanket and sit up. It was then that Hoss realized that Joe was still curled up sound asleep. Puzzled, Hoss looked around attempting to find out had awakened him.

 

"Hey, you big feller. Yea, you!" squeaked the tiny voice.

 

Hoss looked down at the ground and shook his head, uncertain as to what he had seen. He closed his eyes and when he reopened them, there was Scruffy still sitting in the same place.

 

"Who ya talkin’ to me?" Hoss managed to ask as he pinched himself and willed himself to wake up.

 

"Do you see anyone else in the room; other than that sleeping thing you call your brother?" Scruffy sarcastically asked.

 

Hoss was quick to defend his little brother, not yet sure of what he was seeing. "That thing, is Little Joe. Ya of all…"

 

Hoss stopped himself before he could say ‘people’ and rephrased the sentence.

 

"What I mean is, ya have known Little Joe since his Adam gave you to him," Hoss explained still unable to understand how this was happening.

 

"It must be somethin’ I ate last night," he pondered.

 

"Dadburn it," Hoss snapped his fingers and tried to reason with himself. "That’s it, yea, somethin’ I ate."

 

He grinned now accepting the unsolved mystery as to why the critters chantin’ was somethin’ that only he, him self could hear.

 

"Little Joe was in bed last night when I helped myself to a late snack."

 

Hoss laid back down and closed his eyes, thinking that this was all a dream. The tiny paw scratched him in the small of his back, jolting Hoss to sit again.

 

"Now what do you want?" demanded Hoss. He was tired and was getting agitated with all of the nonsense that was preventing him from taking a nap.

 

Scruffy padded over closer and sat down to face Hoss. He pointed a stuffed paw at the sleeping form and explained.

 

"It’s that boy over there that has worn my body down to the shape it is in now. He drags me around by one of my paws or hugs me to his chest with his skinny little arm wrapped tightly around my neck." The dog stood at this moment and poked Hoss in the chest.

 

"Do you remember that time Joe brought me outside after that wicked rain storm?"

 

 Not waiting for an answer, Scruffy continued.

 

"Not only did he keep me up all night with his screaming because of a little bit of thunder and lightening, but then he drops me in that nasty mud hole."

 

Scruffy’s eyes seemed to take on the appearance of two pieces of coal glowing in the dark.

 

"Like that wasn’t enough. That little china man shoves me under some hot soapy water and then rubs my backside up and down that fur-pulling washboard. Do you know what that feels like? No, of course not. Well, let me tell you something. My backside hurt like the devil for days on end and all that little boy could think about was holding on to my leg as he walked around the mighty Ponderosa swinging me to and fro like a leaf blowing in the wind. Talk about pain."

 

Hoss could see the tears pooling in Scruffy’s eyes as he described what it was like being a stuffed doggie belonging to a child. His heart went out to the stuffed critter and he reached to pull him into a hug. Scruffy held up his right paw to stop him.

 

"I ain’t done yet," he snarled, showing his pearly white fangs.

 

"You mean there’s more?" questioned Hoss, almost afraid to hear what else the dog could complain about. He had always thought of Joe loving that stuffed dog, sometimes more than life itself.

 

Scruffy wiped away the cotton filled tears and proceeded. "Do you know what it’s like to have someone preventing you from breathing?  Why that little boy never stops to think about the way he treats me. Even on the hottest night of the year, he has me tucked up under his sweaty arm with my face jammed against his damp chest. How am I suppose to get any sleep, heck he can’t even let me use the pillow?"

 

Scruffy stomped his paw to the dirt floor and placed his other two paws on his hips. "Come on, I’m waiting for an answer." Scruffy thrushed his head forward and peered into Hoss’ eyes. "You don’t tend to cover for the boy’s actions now, do you?"

 

"No, I reckon I can’t," Hoss managed to stutter. "I can’t speak for the scamp."

 

Scruffy began to pace the floor, stopping to glare at Hoss on occasion. He finally stopped and spoke again. "I want you to be my new master," the stuffed dog demanded, pointing his paw at Hoss in emphasis.

 

"Me?" questioned Hoss, totally surprised. "Why in tarnations would ya want me?"

 

The doggie hesitated momentarily before answering. "Because you know how to treat the critters with respect, that’s why," explained Scruffy.

 

Hoss squeezed his eyes shut. He opened them slowly and smiled at the tiny stuffed dog.

 

"I’m too old for sleepin’ with stuffed critters, how abouts if I talk to Little Joe and make him understand how rough he is with ya? Would ya reconsider ya’re decision?" Hoss kept his fingers crossed as he waited for Scruffy to answer.

 

"I reckon I could give him one more chance, but the first time he starts to bear handling me, I’m coming to your room."

 

With that the little dog strutted across the floor and climbed up on to the chair near the table.

 

"I’ll sleep here for now, giving you a chance to speak to that little brother of yours. I want some changes taking place before he decides to drag me around by my ear. Heck if he keeps that up, I am bound to lose one of them."

 

Scruffy closed his eyes, indicating to Hoss that the discussion was now over, at least for the time being.

 

 

Little Joe rudely awakened Hoss, as the boy shook his shoulder. "I’m a gettin’ hungry, Hoss. What’s we gonna do about supper?"

 

Hoss rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. The first thing he did was to look at the chair near the table and frowned when he saw Scruffy sitting there. Sighing deeply he questioned his little brother.

 

"Why is Scruffy sittin’ over yonder?" he asked pointing to the stuffed animal.

 

Joe shrugged his shoulders and replied. "I don’t know, didn’t you put him there?"

 

Hoss shook his head to help clear the remainder of his so-called dream and went in search of something more appetizing to eat than what they had eaten earlier in the day.

 

 

Ben was totally disgusted with the way his day had begun. Now instead of getting the work finished that he and Adam had planned on doing, they had to go in search of his two youngest sons.

 

"Come on Adam," said Ben as he reached for his hat and buckled his sidearm on. "We better find those two before it gets dark, for sure it isn’t going to get much warmer today and if we don’t find them soon, both of them will be sick over the holidays.

 

Adam grabbed his hat and gun and followed his father out the door. Adam was put out about his brother’s sudden disappearance but he had to admit to himself, he found it rather amusing. He had tried to warn his father, but had he listened? No. Now his father was on the verge of having a full-blown temper tantrum of his own making. Adam didn’t like to see his father get that mad, but Adam also had to fight the urge not to be telling his father, ‘I told you so’.

 

Father and son had no trouble picking up the younger boys’ trail. It was obvious that they had taken the buckboard, and after checking the barn and seeing all of their critters missing, they were aware that the younger two had somehow managed to carry off their menagerie of animals as well.

 

Ben and Adam followed the trail for most of the afternoon and by the time they arrived at the line shack, both were well past going. Tired and grumpy, they dismounted and tied their horses to some low hanging branches a short distance away and slowly approached the shack. Adam had suggested that they take the boys by surprise, seeing first what they might be up to. Curiosity was eating away at him, wondering what his brothers were doing with all of their critters here at the shack. It didn’t take him long to find out. As he and his father stepped onto the porch, animals of all sorts came out of nowhere.

 

"Stop!" squawked the big tom turkey, taking Adam by surprise.

 

"Back off this porch, ya good fur nuthin’ low down piece of pond scum!" the old fat goose shouted at Ben.

 

Ben took a step backward and looked at Adam who had also retreated a step. His son had the same look on his face as Ben was sure he wore on his own, disbelief, shock, uncertainty, bewilderment and a bit of fear.

 

"Adam…son, do you see what I see, or is it just me?" Ben spoke softly, looking in his son’s direction but keeping a watchful eye on what he thought he was seeing on the porch. ‘A talking turkey? And a goose?’ thought Ben. Ben rubbed his eyes, thinking that might help clear away the scene before him.


Adam chanced a glance at his father but also watched Tom Turkey who seemed to be advancing on him.

 

"Did you hear what I heard? Or are we both losing our minds? This can’t be real…can it, Pa?" Adam asked, his voice sounding much like his youngest brother’s did when he was in serious doubt about something. That is what Adam decided he was in, serious doubt!

 

"I don’t know, son," started Ben and then took more steps backwards as he saw several fat rabbits advancing on him.

 

One large rabbit wiggled his nose up at Ben. Ben stood as if hypnotized by the bunny’s wiggly nose.

 

"See this here foot?" said the big rabbit holding up a stump where a leg had once been, "I lost it in one of your snares!"

 

The other rabbits made rumbling sounds that came from deep within their throats, and Ben took another step backward and scratched his head.

 

Ben came to his senses, or he thought he did, "Umm…I’m sorry about that," stammered Ben, not knowing what else to say.

 

Adam turned worried eyes on his father, "Pa! You’re talking to a stupid rabbit! And rabbits can’t talk!"

 

"Well, neither can turkeys, but we both heard them didn’t we? Well? Didn’t we?" Ben was becoming unglued, something was terribly wrong with his world and he began to sweat despite the cool breeze that seemed to whisper throughout the tall pines that circled the old shack.

 

"Hey smart guy," Adam turned his head to face the turkey and pointed to himself.

 

"Yeah, you, in black. Who you calling STUPID?" shouted the turkey and made a dive for Adam.

 

Adam saw the large bird closing in on him and turned to run but the turkey was quick to catch up with him and before Adam knew what had gotten a hold of him, the tom grabbed his backside and held on.

"

Yeoweeee!" screamed Adam as he tried to run for cover, hands swatting behind him at the big bird that refused to release it’s hold on his rear end.

 

Ben watched as his son fled and decided that he had better join his son as soon as possible. But when he turned to follow, Ben stumbled over the raccoon that had suddenly appeared from out of no where. When Ben hit the ground the rabbits who had been watching from the porch, began jumping on his back, up and down, up and down. The old goose honked in his ear and began nipping at Ben’s ear lobes. Ben struggled to get up but the squirrels had joined in the fun and one ran up Ben’s trouser leg causing Ben to roll about the ground in the dust.

 

"Get off me you dad burn furry little rodents," snapped Ben trying to rise to his feet.

 

Ben began flinging around his leg attempting to shake the squirrel out of his pants leg. He wasn’t having any luck, what with the goose flapping her wings and honking in his ears, the rabbits jumping all over his body, he did the only thing he could think of, and that was to yell for help.

 

"ADAM! GET BACK HERE, NOW!"

 

Adam was still running around the yard trying to shake the turkey from his butt and as he past by his father he kicked out at the goose. The goose that was caught unaware landed on the porch honking loudly.

 

"Murderer!" she screamed.

 

"Come on boys, let’s get’em," and the goose flew off the porch after Adam.

 

Adam ran for his horse, finally having gotten free from Tom Turkey and ran quickly as the rabbits, squirrels, raccoon, boar, who by the way had been sitting on the porch laughing at the two men, all chased after the fleeing young man.

 

Adam was quick to mount Sport, kicking him into a run he turned and called out to his father, "Come on, Pa, I don’t care if Joe or Hoss ever come home. Leave ‘em to their critters, I’m outta here!"

 

Ben saw his chance to make his break and ran to Buck, who was dancing around, frightened by all that had been going on. Ben was finally able to mount his horse and headed off in the other direction hopefully to meet up with his older son later.

 

The animals gave up the chase and returned to the porch to stand guard over the two young boys who had saved their lives. A sense of pride in their new duty filled each animal as they stood at attention facing Tom Turkey.

 

"Good work men, and ladies," Tom smiled at Mother Goose. “I think this calls for a song, shall we?"

 

And the sound of their singing filled the cool evening air, and those who believed could hear the victory song that they sang.

 

Bear and Boar and how many more?

Have fought to stay alive.

With a gun and a rope, and a hat full of hope,

They hunted us down from here to town,

We are the critters of the mighty Ponderosa!

 

Deer and Elk, coon and rabbit,

Cartwrights are their names,

Snarin’ and killin’ are their habits

But all of us have ended their game

We are the critters of the mighty Ponderosa!

 

 

Adam and Ben rode home in silence, neither man wanted to talk about what had happened to them at the line shack. In truth, neither man was sure if anything really had happened. Adam knew his rear end was sore, and his black trousers had a piece missing in the exact spot where his butt hurt. Adam glanced at his father and said not a word. Ben seemed lost in his own world, and Adam wondered what his father was thinking.

 

"Pa?" Adam rode up beside Ben and reached out to touch his father’s arm. Ben jumped when he felt Adam’s hand touch him.

 

"I’m sorry, son, I was thinking…You don’t suppose…"started Ben and then shook his head. "No, I know I’m not dreaming, I’m here, out in the middle of nowhere, cold, tired, angry at your brothers and I hurt all over…This isn’t a dream…is it Adam?" Ben pulled Buck to a stop and turned to face Adam.

 

Adam stopped his horse and rubbed his behind. "More like a nightmare, Pa, than a dream. It sure feels real at least to my butt it does, but how? They sure didn’t teach us anything in college about things like this."

 

Ben gently kicked his horse forward. "Let’s ride, maybe those two young scamps are home by now. I didn’t see anything going on at the shack, except for those…no, I’m just going to pretend that never happened," said Ben and stopped once again. "Adam, I think it would be best if neither of us said anything about this to anyone, especially your brothers."

 

"I agree, Pa."

 

Adam smiled at his father, glad that they were in agreement with each other. He would just have to let Hop Sing think he had ripped his trousers on a nail or something, he knew the little man would find the hole in his pants when the laundry was washed.

 

When Adam and his father arrived home it was very late. Quickly they put their horses in the barn and cared for their needs.

 

"I’m going to bed, son, I suggest you do the same. We will worry about your brothers in the morning. For now we know they are safe at the shack."

 

Ben left Adam in the great room and slowly climbed the stairs to his room. When Adam heard his father’s bedroom door close, he reached for the brandy bottle. Not taking the time to find a glass, he turned it up to his lips and swallowed several large gulps.

 

"I could take up drinking after a night like this," he told himself as he placed the stopper back on the bottle and returned it to its place.

 

Adam climbed the stairs, each step taking more effort than the last. All the while, Adam rubbed his sore bottom and tried to find a logical explanation for what he had seen and heard earlier. As he approached Joe’s room, he paused and opened the door to peer inside. The room was spotless; Hop Sing must have found the mess and cleaned it up after they had left to search for the two missing boys. Adam turned to close the door and caught his reflection in the mirror; he looked pale, tired, and haggard. When Adam turned his head from the mirror, he saw his reflection looking back at him and suddenly the face in the mirror winked at him. Adam quickly slammed the door shut and standing in the hall drew his breath in deeply, trying to fill his lungs. The only thing that Adam could figure was that he had downed the brandy much to quickly and now his mind was fogging from the strong drink. Practically running to his room and wanting this night to end, he quickly stripped his clothes and with nothing more than the flesh on his bones, crawled into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

 

Adam awoke to the bright sun shining through his window. Surprised that he had slept later than normally, he quickly rose from his warm bed. When he was standing on his feet, he stretched, it had been a long night and sleep had not come easy for the young man. He kept having visions of run away boys and talking animals, self images that winked at him, yes, it had been a long night and now Adam wasn’t sure if he could tell what had been real and what had not been real.

 

Adam filled the large wash bowl with the fresh water that Hop Sing had left earlier that morning and washed the sleep from his eyes and shaved. Today was Thanksgiving and already delicious aromas were emitting themselves from the kitchen and making their way up the stairs. It all smelled wonderful to Adam and he could not wait to meet his family at the table.

 

‘Better hurry,’ thought Adam to himself as he reached for a clean pair of black trousers and started to pull them on.

 

"Oh damn," swore Adam to himself as he turned his backside to the mirror to see what had caused the pain in his rear.

 

Adam turned so that he could view his backside in the mirror and was surprised to see the large bruise that was on his right cheek. Gently he rubbed the sore spot and suddenly remembered that a talking turkey had bitten him. ‘

 

No, just a turkey,’ he told himself, ‘just a plain everyday old gobbler, turkeys do not talk. Turkeys do not talk, turkeys do not talk,’ he repeated to himself over and over as he walked from his room and down the stairs.

 

When Adam reached the table, his father sat alone sipping his coffee. As Adam sat down, Ben looked up and greeted his son with a bright smile.

 

"Good morning, sleepy head. Did you sleep well?" Ben said, appearing to Adam to be just a little too cheerful.

 

"Not really, did you?" Adam sipped his coffee and watched his father.

 

"Yes, thank you. I slept like a log, nothing bothered me all night, not even those old hoot owls that have roosted in the trees outside of Joe’s window," smiled Ben.

 

Adam was having trouble thinking clearly and decided not to bring up the subject of what had happened the previous night. His father seemed different this morning; perhaps he was making a great attempt to put the incident behind him so Adam decided that he had better do the same. He didn’t want anything to spoil today.

 

"Sure smells good in here, don’t you think, Pa?" Adam asked, trying to make conversation and keep his mind moving forward instead of retreating backwards.

 

"Most certainly does. I hope Hop Sing fixed enough, you know we have lots of company coming today?" Ben said and wiped his mouth and stood. "Well, better get busy, I want everything finished before everyone starts arriving.

 

"I’ll go start my chores and then we can go…" started Adam and then stopped not sure whether to mention his missing brothers or not.

 

“Go where, son?" questioned Ben, turning to look at his son.

 

"Umm, go…get cleaned up," Adam stammered and reached for his hat and left for the barn before his father could question him further.

 

When Adam opened the barn door and walked in, he was surprised to see both of his younger brothers tending to their regular chores. He stopped in his tracks as he surveyed the barn and saw that all of his brothers’ critters were back as well, each in their own little cages. Without a word to either of his siblings, Adam walked to the rear door of the barn, opened it and stuck his head out. The pen where the old tom had been kept for fattening was empty. Adam stood where he was and did not say a word, thousands of thoughts and unanswered questions poured into his mind, causing him to shutter.

 

"Hey, Adam," called Hoss who had been watching his older brother ever since he had come into the barn.

 

Hoss tossed Joe a worried looked and Joe held his hands up, questioning the eldest Cartwright son’s peculiar behavior.

 

Adam," repeated Hoss, "Are ya okay?" Hoss asked and stepped closer to Adam.

 

"What? I’m sorry, Hoss, what did you say?" Adam turned from the door and closed it.

 

"He said are ya okay?" Little Joe answered for Hoss. "Ya sure are actin’ funny this mornin’," he added.

 

"I’m okay, what happened to the turkey?" Adam asked as he started his chores.

 

"Aw, Adam, don’t ya remember what today is? It’s Thanksgivin’. Hop Sing dun rung that ole gobbler’s neck and got him on acookin’," beamed Little Joe.

 

The rest of the morning and afternoon became a blur to Adam. He finished his chores and decided to join his father for an early lunch. Things just didn’t seem right to him and he found himself questioning his sanity. He remembered drinking the brandy late last night. Perhaps that was the cause for these strange feelings he was having. At any rate, coffee would help so he made his way to the house.

 

Ben was reading his paper, and smoking his pipe when Adam entered. ‘He looks so rested,’ thought Adam. ‘I wish I felt that way.’

 

"Hey, Pa. I see the boys made it home," smiled Adam as he went to the kitchen for his coffee. Minutes later he returned and sat in his favorite chair opposite from his father.

 

 

Ben lowered his paper and watched Adam.

 

"The boys returned? Where did they go?" Ben wondered out loud.

 

Adam’s face took on a startled expression. "Where did they go? You know where they went."

 

"Adam, son, if I knew where they went, I wouldn’t have to be asking you, now would I?" said Ben, wondering what was going on with his oldest. It wasn’t like him to seem so addled.

 

Adam stared at his father. No words were forthcoming for several seconds.

 

"Pa, I think I’ll go lay down for a spell. If I’m not up in a couple of hours, will you waked me before our guests start arriving?"

 

"Of course son, have a nice nap. You do look sorta beat, son. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?" Ben was concerned about his oldest.

 

"I’m fine, thanks."

 

And with that, Adam went to his room and stretched out across the bed falling instantly to sleep.  An hour later Adam was awoken by the sounds of the first guests arriving in the yard. He hurried to make himself presentable and joined his father downstairs. His brothers were already welcoming the first arrivals and Hop Sing began immediately to bring the meal to the table. It was only a matter of minutes before the rest of the company arrived and Ben asked that they all gather around the table, each taking their designated seats. Little Joe and Hoss had worked for hours on making name cards for the table and they were more than willing to help each guest find his or her place.

 

Adam was the last to be seated at the opposite end of the table from his father. As he started to sit down, he noticed the small pillow that had been placed in his seat. Turning questioning eyes at his father, Ben smiled slightly.

 

"Just in case you’re still sore from where that turkey nipped you in the bud last night when you went to give him his last meal."

 

Adam returned the smile with a weak smile of his own and sat down.

 

He glanced around the room and smiled in satisfaction, it really was turning out to be a good day. And then one guest opened his mouth to speak; Adam’s mouth dropped opened as he turned startled eyes in the direction of the speaker. The voice he heard sounded just like the sound make by the…no…not the talking turkey!

 

Tom Turkish was an old friend of Ben’s and living alone he had been invited to join them for the holiday. Adam cast wary eyes around the table, Martha Goosenberry sat across from Hoss, Stumpy Haire, his wife, Bunnie, and three of their children sat on the other side of the table. Adam swallowed hard, Rick Koon, a close friend of his brother Hoss, had also been invited, and with him was another friend known to all that knew him as ‘Hambone’ Boarman.

 

Adam looked at the last guests, Mr. and Mrs. Egbert McShiken, who had only been in Virginia City a few months. They had opened a small bakery in town and Hoss had quickly made friends with the couple and had insisted that he be allowed to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner. His father had agreed, and now as Adam scanned the table, he knew why each guest seemed to have jarred a memory in his mind.

 

Adam reached for his wineglass and not waiting for his father to make a toast, downed it in one swallow and quickly refilled his goblet. Without wanting to bring attention to him self, with his napkin he swiped at the beads of sweat that had suddenly and without notice formed on his brow. Realization had set in, what he had experienced the night before had been a dream, no, thought Adam; a nightmare would be more like it. Each guest and family member had played a part in his nightmare beginning from Joe’s screams that the animals were going to kill all of them. Finally, the missing pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place.

 

Ben bowed his head and gave thanks to the Almighty for bringing together his friends to share in a wonderful Thanksgiving with his family. As he finished the prayer he looked at each of his sons and smiled, silently adding his thanks for their being.

 

Ben stood and picked up the carving set. It was one that had been in his family for as long as he could remember. He jabbed the fork into the turkey and that precise moment, Little Joe yelped out as if in pain.

 

‘Gobble, gobble, gobble,’ he cried and was quick to follow with his infectious laugh.

 

Ben frowned at his youngest but felt the corners of his mouth twitch before erupting with his own laughter. The guests had joined in laughing as Little Joe fought to stay in his chair.

 

No one noticed how Adam’s hands trembled slightly as he held the platter for his father to place the carvings on. That is, no one except Hoss. He gave Adam one of his gapped tooth grins and burst out singing, Little Joe quick to join in.

 

On this land, they put their brand

Cartwright was their name.

They killed our friends,

And ate our kin,

But they’ll ner’ do that again!

 

Brothers Hoss and Joe

They both know

A plan to save the day

They worked it out a special way

Now Pa and Adam’ll hav’ta pay.

 

Bear and Boar and how many more?

Have fought to stay alive.

With a gun and a rope, And a hat full of hope,

They hunted us down from here to town,

We are the critters of the mighty Ponderosa!

 

Deer and Elk, coon and rabbit,

Cartwrights are their names,

Snarin’ and killin’ are their habits

But all of us have ended their game

We are the critters of the mighty Ponderosa!

 

Hoss and Little Joe bowed as the captivated audience clapped and cheered their enjoyment of the little song that the boys had performed. Ben shook his head, sporting a large grin on his face. ‘Those boys of mine never cease to amaze me,’ he thought as he finished with the turkey.

 

Adam had paled considerably and leaned back against the chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘This can’t be happening,’ he thought as he recognized the melody from what he believed to be his dream. ‘If this day would only end now, I would be the happiest man on this ranch.’

 

Hoss nudged Adam in his side, snapping Adam back from his thoughts. He returned the smile that Hoss gave him and passed the turkey on to his father’s guests. Ben threw him a puzzled look and Adam simply shrugged his shoulders. Curiosity got the best of him and he leaned over to Hoss.

 

"Answer one question for me, please," he seemed to beg his younger brother.

 

Hoss nodded and waited for Adam to continue.

 

"Where did you and Little Joe learn that song?" asked Adam, almost afraid to know the answer.

 

Hoss’ laughter filled the room, bringing silence to the table. In between bouts of laughter, Hoss managed to reply.

 

"Don’t ya remember, Adam? Last week Little Joe and I wanted to surprise Pa with a jingle and you offered to help when we done got stuck for words."

 

Adam closed his eyes and then opened them slowly.

 

"Yea, now I remember." was all that was said as the two younger brothers burst into another round of giggles. This time Adam, feeling immensely relieved, joined in as well.

 

 

The End

November 2001

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!

 

 

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