By Julie Burns
CHAPTER ONE
As the wagon bumped along the
road back towards the Ponderosa, Ben Cartwright looked down at his
sixteen-year-old son, who was laying down beside him in a deep sleep. The sleep
was not a natural one, however. It came as the result of the drug combination
that Doc Martin had administered only a few hours ago. It was supposed to help
Joe not feel any physical pain from the injuries he had sustained.
But what about the emotional and mental scars that had been left
behind? What about them, Ben asked himself. How long would they take to heal? Would
they ever heal? Would his young son ever recover from the torment that he had
suffered at the hands of Butch Thomas over the last month?
If he could turn back the hands of time over the last few weeks and
foresee what would befall his youngest son, Ben would have taken the boy out of
harms way. He would have simply packed up Joseph and one of his other sons,
Adam or Hoss, if necessary, and made sure that Joe was safe in another town
away from the dangers that lurked.
Ben caressed the boy's soft curls, but his son didn't respond to his
touch. It was like a brick wall had been built between them, and it was getting
harder and harder to reach in and find the real Little Joe.
The boy had changed so much over the past few weeks. He had been a confident
young man full of energy and laughter who filled the house with love and joy.
Now the boy was sullen and withdrawn and spoke rarely unless asked a
question, and even then it was a battle to get some sort of answer.
Ben swore to himself that he didn't care how long it took, but he and
his eldest two sons would be there every minute of the day and night, if
necessary, to bring the boy back from the brink and back into the safe and
loving arms of his family.
"He alright back there, Pa?" Hoss asked, as he guided the wagon team
as slowly as he could over the rough dirt road back to the Ponderosa.
"As well as can be expected I guess, Hoss," Ben replied in a
voice that held no emotion at all.
"We will just have to see how he goes over the next couple of days.
It is going to be a difficult time for us all."
Hoss nodded and turned his attention back to the wagon team. As they pulled
up outside the ranch house, Adam came outside, followed by Hop Sing. Adam had
ridden on ahead of the rest of his family to make sure that everything would be
ready in time when Hoss and his father arrived back with Little Joe.
Adam looked at his father before attempting to take his younger brother
out of the wagon. He hadn't
heard the tone of Ben's voice just a few hundred metres back, but he saw the
tiredness etched on his father's face and the worry embedded deep into his
father's brown eyes. His father
looked almost a broken man. The thing that allowed the man to go on lay beside
him wrapped up in the blankets. Adam didn't want to contemplate how his father
would have gone on if Joe had not come back home. He couldn't put into words
himself how he would have felt.
One sixteen-year-old boy held the magical golden key to all their
hearts and kept them all united.
Now, when this same boy had fallen along the way and looked to be
heading away from his family, it was up to that family to make sure that the
boy knew they all loved and needed him endlessly.
The dark thunderclouds above once again threatened to bring down the
heavens in torrential rain. They needed to get the boy inside and into his bed
before the rain started. The last thing he needed with all his injuries at the
moment was to get sick. Hoss thought back a moment and thought that it had been
raining a few days before this all started to happen as well. ‘Funny how
history had a way of playing on your memory, wasn't it,’ he thought to
himself.
"Take it easy, Adam," Ben said, knowing that his eldest son
was already aware of Joe's injuries.
"We have to check that those stitches in his side are still in place when we get him settled upstairs. Heaven
knew what that rough road had done to exasperate the pain and agony his son
felt.
Ben managed to move the still sleeping Joe into a half-sitting position
so that Adam could wrap his strong arms around the fragile boy and lift him out
of the wagon. Ben could feel a little warmth emanating through the cotton shirt
that Joe wore over the top of the heavy padding and bandages around his chest.
A few spits of rain began to fall just as Adam made it to the porch
with Joe nestled in his strong arms. The boy had lost so much weight from
injury and stress over the last few weeks that he barely weighed anything, his
brother noted with dismay. Ben picked up the tails of the blankets from behind
Adam and followed his eldest son, as he carried Joe into the homestead.
Adam had made sure that Joe's room was already warm enough before the
wagon had pulled up outside. He walked into the house and climbed the staircase
carrying his precious burden that failed to make a single sound.
Adam laid his unconscious brother on the clean sheets, and made sure
that he was resting comfortably on the pillows while his father started to take
off his shoes and socks.
Hoss had volunteered to put the horses and the wagon away, but both
Adam and Ben knew that it was eating the middle Cartwright up inside to see his
younger brother like this. It went against the very grain of things in Hoss's
eyes that
this had happened to his
brother. He hated the men who had done this to Joe. He hated the Judge who had
put the boy through so much humiliation in front of everyone. He hated the
justice system that put it’s sole trust in the opinions of a few
witnesses. He hated himself for
being so angry.
Inside, Joe had not awoken as such, but he seemed to be having a battle
against unseen demons again. The demons had probably been created from the
memories of the real monsters that had stalked him and then caused him so much
hurt and pain. Suffering and fear that he had hidden from his family. A deep
gnawing fear that bit into the boy’s very soul and stole his spirit with
it.
Ben sat on the edge of the bed, forgetting all about undressing the
boy. For now, the only real important thing was to let the boy know that his
family was right here with him and that he was loved.
Ben spoke softly to the boy, reminding him of how much his family had missed
him and how proud they had been of him over the last few days. While Ben
talked, Adam went about finishing the task of undressing the boy from his good
clothes that he had worn to court. The jacket had been left back at Doc
Martin's due to the damage caused to it. Ben had declared the garment beyond
repair or salvage and could no longer bear to look upon it and see it stained
with his youngest son's blood.
Adam unbuttoned Joe's trousers once the boots were removed, and had to
keep his own anger in check as he saw the bruises and scratches that marred the
boy's pale flesh. The trousers had been a little stubborn at first due to the
thick bandages still adorning the boy's left shin. The bandages would remain on for at
least another month or two, Doc Martin informed them, before it could be
removed and Joe be allowed to put full weight back on that leg.
Hoss had returned to the house, and now came into the bedroom, carrying
the other reminders of Joe's injuries. He propped the two wooden crutches up
against the wall in the far corner of the room. It was doubtful that the boy
would be leaving his bed anytime soon in the next few days.
The crutches told the story that Joe needed more than his family's love
and caring at the moment just to stand. The boy had stumbled a number of times
while trying to manoeuvre back and forth from the witness stand. To Hoss and
the rest of the family they only seemed to confirm their fears about how badly Little
Joe had been hurt.
Joe was sleeping soundly upstairs and was probably due to stay that way
for several more hours to come. After Adam had managed to get one of Ben's
shirts over the boy's head and bandages, they tucked the blankets in around the
boy. Adam and Hoss had bid their younger brother good-night and left their
father to a more private time alone with his son.
Ben had continued to talk soothing words to his son as he slept. He
caressed his face, then bent down and gently kissed the boy on his bruised
cheek before leaving the room.
About an hour after the Cartwright’s had returned home the three
eldest of them now sat downstairs in the living room. All three were lost in
their own thoughts about the events that had taken place over the last month.
Ben's mind started to take him back to a time about a month ago when
everything seemed to be going fine. If only he could go back there now.
About a month earlier:
”Come on, Hoss!” an excited Little Joe shouted as he descended the
wooden staircase two steps at a
time.
”Joseph, do you need to shout so loud this early in the
morning?” Ben Cartwright said in mock annoyance as he watched the
eagerness of his youngest son. He smiled to himself and hoped that
the excitement inside Little Joe remained until the boy himself was an old grey
man. It was this excitement that
kept rejuvenating the youth in all of them. Even Hop Sing seemed to have an extra
hop in his step these days just to keep up with the youngest member of the
family.
”I wish you were this eager to get out of bed on the mornings I try and
wake you up for school, short shanks,” Hoss said, as he calmly walked
down the stairs whilst putting on his vest.
“School ain’t as exciting as this, Hoss,” Joe
explained as he sat down at the table to join the rest of the family for
breakfast.
”Are you sure that you have packed all you will need, Joseph?” Ben
now asked, wanting to make sure that the two brothers had all the essentials
needed with them for their expedition. This was the first hunting trip
that Joe was going on without his father, and therefore Ben was just that
little bit more nervous. He knew he
could trust Hoss better than most people, but that security didn’t stop
him worrying.
“Yeah, Pa,” Joe answered in an exasperated tone. He knew that his father was worried
about him and Hoss going off hunting on their own without their father or Adam
to supervise. He rolled his eyes a
little at the over-caring he was getting. “I’ve got three changes
of clothes. Hoss has already loaded
all of the supplies including my rifle and the fishing poles,” he
replied.
“And that’s another thing, young man,” Ben said, as
he caught the tone in his son’s voice. “You are only to use that rifle
when Hoss is watching you and instructing you, is that understood?” he
asked sternly. Although Ben
had bought the rifle himself about a year ago now, he didn’t like the
idea of a young inexperienced person having full use of a deadly weapon. Joe was sensible to a fault, but
it was that impulsive nature and the frequent mistake to act first and ask
questions later that made Ben more afraid than most father’s with their
young sons and guns.
Over the past twelve months, under Ben’s and Adam’s careful
guidance, the boy had shown a genuine aptitude at handling a rifle. Ben had watched the boy shoot at targets
more than 50 metres away and get a result that would make any adult proud.
Ben had wondered whether Joe’s left-handedness would prove an
obstacle at first but after only a few brief practice sessions, it had become
obvious that the fact that Joe used his left hand was more of an advantage than
a disadvantage.
”Come here, Joseph, please?” Ben asked, as he sat down on
the settee and indicated to his youngest son to join him. “There are just a few things that
I want you remember before you leave.”
Little Joe made a face as he knew what was about to come. “Aw Pa, I already know what your
going to say before you say it,” he said in an over exaggerated voice. “Joseph, don’t ride too
fast. Joseph, listen to what your
brother tells you. Joseph,
don’t wander off alone.
Joseph,……….”
“Joseph, don’t take that attitude with me,” Ben said
in the same type of voice that his son had used. “Or you won’t be
going anywhere at all, young man,” Ben said sternly without injecting too
much anger into the words and put a dampener on the morning before it even
began.
“I want you to have a good time and enjoy yourself, Little Joe,
but I also want you to do as your brother Hoss asks and keep safe during your
trip,” Ben said in a gentler voice.
“Don’t be in a rush to do anything. You have plenty of
time. Make sure you both come back
in one piece and safe and sound.”
”I promise I will behave myself, Pa,” Joe replied. “and have a good time with Hoss as
well.” Joe then raced
off the settee and rechecked that he had everything that he wanted to take with
him. Whilst he was out with Cochise and
made sure everything was tied
on properly, Ben had a little heart to heart chat with Hoss as well as to what
he expected of him and Little Joe this weekend.
“Everything should be fine, Pa,” Hoss said, trying to
reassure his father that he would bring his youngest son back to him safe and
sound. “Its only two
days out and only one night at that,
we should be back by about mid-afternoon on Sunday if everything goes
smoothly enough.”
“Where are you planning to take your younger brother on this
hunting expedition, Hoss?” Adam now asked. He asked the question for two
reasons. One, for curiosity sake
and the regret that he wasn’t joining his brother’s in a nice
couple of days off from work on the ranch.
Two, whilst he had no qualms about Hoss’s ability to handle most situations
that might arise whilst they were out there alone, Adam was also only too well
accustomed to his youngest brother’s whimsical nature and his often bad
misjudgement about things.
Joe was a good kid most of
the time, but he had the quirky ability to wrap almost anybody to his advantage
and this was even more so for his brother Hoss. Adam just secretly hoped that his larger
brother would be able to see past the large emerald green puppy dog eyes and the
irresistible smile that the kid flashed when he wanted to get his own way. Only time would tell if he will see past
that, Adam told himself.
“Probably as far as ‘Pine
Valley’, Adam,” Hoss answered. “Its not totally off the
Ponderosa, but far enough away for the kid to enjoy the scenery and camp
underneath the tall trees up there.
We can camp near one of the small streams up there and catch some small
fish for supper if no other game is seen beforehand.”
Ben and Adam were both secretly pleased with Hoss’s choice of
venue and knew that Hoss was right.
Although “Pine Valley” was in one of the far corners of the
Ponderosa lands, it was more than half a day’s ride away and definitely
far enough away to make a camping trip out of the expedition.
”Come on, Hoss, or it will be dark before we even get
there,” Joe shouted from the front porch as he tried to hurry his brother
along. Joe then mounted
Cochise and held out the reins to Chubb for Hoss. He grinned back at his father and
other brother as they watched from the front doorway and then gave them a quick
enthusiastic wave
before nudging Cochise forward.
Ben watched the two riders until he could no longer see them. Many thoughts raced through his mind as
he was reminded that this was Joe’s first hunting trip without him
alongside. He kept
telling himself that everything would be fine, but deep down inside he
couldn’t wait until Sunday afternoon again when he saw them arrive safely
back in the yard at the house.
***********************************************************
CHAPTER TWO
”What are we gonna do first, Hoss?” Joe asked, as he rode
alongside his brother with a million different thoughts going through his mind.
”Whoa, wait until we at least get there, short shanks,” Hoss said,
as he chuckled at his brother’s impetuous nature. Joe was already to set off at the
drop of a hat. It was often up to
his family to see that he didn’t stray from the straight and narrow
whilst failing to see what was up ahead of him.
”When we get to ‘Pine Valley’, the first thing we will do is
choose a camping spot near the stream for tonight. Once we have unpacked everything and
secured the supplies from the native wildlife, we can go out and have a look
for what might be around. Later towards the
afternoon we can do a spot of fishing in the stream to catch us some
supper,” Hoss explained what he had mapped out in his head for the
remainder of the day.
Once they had reached the area where Hoss intended to make camp, Little
Joe seemed to want to do everything in a hurry. He started off at first by trying
to set up the tent at first.
Unfortunately, he tried to set the tent up too close to the stream that
bubbled along beside them. It took
a lot of persuasion from his big brother for Little Joe to believe that camping
that close to the water was dangerous.
Little Joe couldn’t see how such a little stream could possibly
swell overnight and threaten to flood their camp area, but Hoss knew from
experience and teachings that Pa and Adam had given him long ago that due to
the rainfall they had had over the last couple of weeks, the risk was too great
to take.
Little Joe settled to setting up the tent in an open spot just the
other side of a large tree. He had
trouble trying to get the main pole to stand up straight. On a couple of occasions, Hoss had
watched the youngster struggle with the tent until there would be a slight cry
for assistance underneath the massive folds of the tent fabric that engulfed
Joe once the pole started to bend and fall down inside.
After about an hour of struggling between themselves the tent was
finally declared fit for living in for the night. Hoss hadn’t thought far
enough ahead to see his brother’s small size being more of a disadvantage
than he would have thought.
Joe had always been smaller than his brothers. Hoss had always been there to help him
along and would continue to do so.
But it was at times such as this, when two sets of hands were better
than one, that Hoss realised he would have to take on most of the physical work
himself.
The next step in the construction of their campsite was the fireplace
in the middle. Hoss explained
to a curious Joe that they needed to keep the fire going not only for cooking
and warmth during the night. But
the heat of the fire and the red flames would also act as a deterrent to any
wild animals that might walk into their campsite by accident.
The mention of wild animals seemed to enthral and scare Joe all at the
same time. He seemed anxious to see
something as spectacular as a grizzly bear or a large moose, but the thought of
running into such a dangerous animal out here all alone in the woods also made
him a bit afraid. He was really
glad his big brother Hoss was with him to protect him against such things.
With the campsite completed as much as possible, Hoss decided that it
was time to stop working and have some of that fun that he had been promising
his brother all day. He told Joe to
get his rifle and that they would take a walk through the forest and see what
they could find. He looked up
above and was mindful to keep an eye on
the sun and take stock of the time.
Hoss knew that they would only be able to be out for just over an hour
before they would need to start getting supper started. Hopefully, an hour would be long
enough to wear his Little brother out enough for the time being. With the walk and the long ride from
home this morning, both of them should enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep.
Joe kept his gaze skywards for the majority of the walk. He was awed by the large trees and
their canopy that darkened the forest floor. It was hard to see where you were going
sometimes and on two occasions, Joe had absentmindedly tripped over a
protruding root that was unseen.
Both times he had just looked embarrassed rather than hurt and Hoss had
ribbed him about watching where he was going.
After another five minutes through the tree line, Joe had almost
tripped over something else hidden in the dirt. He managed to side step this obstacle
and was about to look at his brother for the returned snide remark. Hoss however had a different look on his
face this time.
Hoss wasn’t even laughing the slightest bit at what he saw his brother step over. It wasn’t a tree root this time or
a piece of fallen branch from higher in the tree. This time the very sight of this
metal object made Hoss’s temper flare and his inner calm to boil
over. He was looking at
a rusty old steel trap that some tracker had carelessly left behind.
“Step away from that thing, Little Joe,” Hoss asked in a
calm but serious voice. He picked
up a large stick from the forest floor in an attempt to stop the potential
injury to anybody else or any other living thing. The fact that these things even existed
went against everything that Hoss saw as good and right.
Hoss couldn’t bear
the thought of any animal lying hurt or injured at anytime, not even the ones that people often
despised like wolves and foxes. The
fact that men laid these vicious things around so that some animal could be
trapped in one and live out its last few minutes or hours of life in absolute
agony didn’t sit very well with the big man at all.
“What are you going to do, Hoss?” Joe asked in a quiet
voice. He knew his brother’s
feelings when it came to injured animals.
“It might look old and rusted, Little Joe, but I’m gonna
make sure that this evil thing can’t hurt anything else ever
again,” Hoss answered. “I’m gonna set the trap off so that no
animal can get it’s leg caught in it and bleed to death or scream in
agony as it bites off it’s own leg from the pain.” At least when we go hunting, animals are
killed properly and humanely. There
ain’t nothing worse or more dangerous than an injured animal.”
“Be careful, Hoss,” Joe said, as his brother moved closer
to the trap with the stick held high in the air.
“Its alright Joe, I know what I’m doing. I’m just going to release the jaws
by sticking this big stick on the plate,” he explained. The edge of the stick pushed the metal
plate in the centre and the jaws snapped shut with a rusty sounding jerk. “If an animal did get it’s
leg caught in something as rusty as that, then the animal would probably die
more from infection to the wound than from getting caught in it at
all.”
Hoss then walked over to the trap and lifted it from it’s
position buried in the leaves and the dirt on the ground. He swung the trap around as hard as he
could and then released it, allowing it to sail through the air and then break
into a few big rusty pieces as it landed hard in the dirt over 30 metres
away. Hoss was at least a
little relieved that the trap wouldn’t be able to inflict any more pain.
“Come on, Joe, let’s go back to camp and get supper
started,” Hoss said in a glum voice.
Having to deal with something like that had taken the spring out of his
step suddenly, and he didn’t feel much like going for a walk any further
now.
Joe was a bit on edge when
they returned to their camp site.
Joe had rarely seen his brother so mad about anything. Hoss was always the calm and rational one. He
was the one ready to hear the other side of the story before judging a
man. This was the brother who
forgave others’ mistakes more easily.
Although his brother had appeared deadly calm this afternoon when
talking about the metal trap they had seen. Deep down, Joe knew that his brother was
like a smoking volcano ready to explode when he knew there was an animal that
had deliberately been injured or left to suffer.
Although Joe knew that Hoss would never show that kind of anger towards
him or any other human being, the whole episode still made Joe uneasy, and he
made a point of it to tiptoe around his brother for the rest of the afternoon
until his brother’s mood had improved.
It didn’t appear that Joe would have to wait too long for this to
happen, though. By supper time,
Hoss’s mood seemed to be much improved as they both talked idly about
everything whilst Hoss prepared their evening meal of beans and bacon and
coffee.
The sun was beginning to melt into the horizon, but the temperature remained
warm due to the humidity.
There was still the potential for a storm and rain later on in the night
so they would have to be vigilant in case they had to shift camp during the
night.
“What do you think about me dropping out of school, Hoss?”
Joe asked. The question seemed to
come out of the middle of nowhere.
It had been a subject that had been on Little Joe’s mind for the
last couple of months. Every time
Joe brought the subject up around the dinner table, it only ended in an
argument between Ben and his youngest son.
The tension between them over the subject was so thick at times that you could cut
it with a knife. Joe made it
more than obvious that he didn’t see any point to continuing his
education. He had told his
father that he wanted to work with
the rest of the ranch hands.
He had proved over the last twelve months that he was more than capable
of carrying out any of the work that was expected of his older brothers.
Ben, on the other hand, was just as adamant that Joe would not be
dropping out of school until he was finished with his education. Ben expected Joe to learn as
much as possible during his school years, no matter how physically capable his
youngest son thought he was.
Hoss and Adam felt that they were in the middle of this continuous
argument. Neither of them wanted to
take sides, and that was again how the subject remained tonight as Joe asked
his brother the question.
“Well, Joe,” Hoss began uneasily, trying to pick his words
carefully so as to explain what he thought his brother should do without
setting of that infamous Joe Cartwright temper, “I think you should try
and learn as much as possible from school.”
“Your just like Pa,” Joe retorted back as he had expected
Hoss would be his one true ally.
“After all, it was you that dropped out when you were my
age,” Joe accused his brother.
“Yes, that’s true, Little Joe, but it was different in my
case,” Hoss said, trying to explain why he had been allowed to finish
school early. “In my case school work wasn’t meant for me. No matter how hard I tried, I just never
seemed to fit in. The kids were all
much younger and much smaller than me.
I seemed out of place.
Some of the ranch hands talked to Pa and told him how much they needed
my help with the stock and after a time my work around the yard just outweighed
the time I spent at school. But its
different with you, Little Joe”
“How’s it different?” Joe asked his brother with a
touch of jealousy in his voice “School work doesn’t exactly suit me
either, but every time I try and talk to Pa about leaving to help out at the
ranch, he just yells until we both get angry and stop talking to each
other. I don’t want it to be
that way, Hoss. I just want him to
understand my point of view and listen to what I want for a change.” The anger had now been replaced by
tears, and Joe turned his face away in embarrassment at having revealed too
many of his feelings out loud.
Hoss moved closer to his little brother and put a comforting arm around
him. “I’m sure if
you just wait your time, Joe, Pa will listen and understand. You gotta understand, though, that schooling
is real important.
Let’s talk about something else tonight, huh?”
Joe tried to get himself under control and cursed himself inwardly for
having revealed more than he had wanted to tonight. “Sorry, Hoss,” he said
through the sniffles.
“Didn’t meant to sound like such a spoiled brat,” he
added.
“We are used to it, Little Joe,” Hoss said with a laugh and
quickly dived back to the fire and dinner before the playful punch that Joe had
released could find it’s mark.
For the rest of the night, whilst eating their meagre meal, Hoss and
Joe talked about many different things.
It was at times like these that Joe felt most at ease. Maybe that was why he had decided to
talk to Hoss about his schooling.
When he was with Hoss, he felt like he could talk about anything and
his brother would listen without jumping in at the wrong moment like Pa and
Adam often did.
About half an hour after the meal, Hoss had been talking idly when he
looked down and wondered why his audience had been so quiet. He soon saw the reason and chuckled to
himself. The boy had fallen asleep with
his empty plate in hand.
Hoss moved silently and quickly, just in time to catch the tin plate as
it dropped out of Joe’s sleep-limp hand and threatened to wake the
slumbering boy with a clatter as it hit the dirt ground. Joe had fallen asleep sitting against
one of the supports for the tent.
Hoss put a large hand on
Joe’s back and eased the sleeping boy to a laying down position
underneath the primitive looking shelter.
He was fairly certain that Joe wouldn’t wake again before
morning. The ride, although not
exceedingly long, had been long enough, and that encompassed with the walk
earlier in the day, the boy was just plumb worn out.
Hoss went about cleaning up the dinner dishes and securing their
supplies for the night and then settled himself down on the crude bed beside
his brother. Joe must have
been tired, he told himself, because when he laid down, he saw that the boy had
barely moved.
Even the blankets that Hoss had secured around the sleeping figure were
more or less still in the same position. His brother must have really been worn
out. “Night, little
brother,” he whispered and closed his own eyes in sleep.
It was just before dawn the next morning when a strange noise awoke Joe
from his deep sleep. Hoss had
been right about the boy’s tiredness. He yawned widely as he sat up
under their make shift tent and tried to figure out what had woken him up. He looked over at his brother Hoss and
groaned loudly when another large snoring sound escaped Hoss’s lips.
At first he thought it must have been this sound that woke him up, but
just as he was about to lay back down again and close his eyes, the noise he
had heard earlier came again. It
was a low moaning sound. Whatever
it was, it wasn’t coming from Hoss this time.
Joe thought it best that he get up and investigate. Hoss was still asleep and he felt silly
waking his brother up from a perfect sleep over hearing a strange noise in the
dark. Hoss would probably call him
silly as well and tell him to go back to sleep anyway.
Joe got up silently and crept out of the tent. He walked over and started to stoke the
dying embers of the fire while he waited to hear the sound again. He didn’t have to wait long.
The sound came again, and Joe tried to work out in which direction it
was coming from. After another low
moan, Joe started heading down towards the stream. He was certain that this was where the
noise was coming from.
Joe neared the stream, but at first he couldn’t see anything that
would have made such a low moaning sound.
Just as he was about to head back towards the camp site, he heard the
noise again. This time it was
coming from his right. He looked
over and could see a dark shadow about 50 metres away near the water’s
edge.
He was a bit apprehensive to approach the shadow until he could see
clearly what it was, but finally he found his gut instinct telling himself that
it might be somebody in trouble that needed his help. He built up as much courage as
possible and started to walk towards the large bulky shadow.
As he got closer, the moaning started getting more frequent. He was about 10 metres away when
suddenly he could see two beady eyes looking back at him through the half-lit
sky. He wasn’t sure what it
was at first. The sun wasn’t
fully up yet, and there was only a dull hue over the mountains giving him any
sort of view of the area.
He stopped where he was and waited until he could see more of the shape before
approaching any closer. Gradually his
vision improved and he finally was able to see what it was. He blinked twice to be sure that
what he saw was real.
When he looked again he could see the same thing again, and he started
to smile as he looked back at a cute cuddly bear cub. Joe guessed that the cub
couldn’t be more than six months of age. Its fur was still very fluffy in
places and long from his winter hibernation.
The cub gave another low moan and Joe realised that it had been the
bear cub making the noise the whole time.
The animal sounded as if it
was in pain. From where he was, Joe
couldn’t see why the bear would be in pain. He started to walk closer. He had failed to note the possible
danger that lurked out there. If
the bear was so young, where was it’s mother? This question had yet to cross
Joe’s curious mind.
As Joe reached the bear
cub, he could now see the reason why the animal was in pain. The cub must have wandered away
from it’s mother. One of
it’s rear paws was now snared in a similar trap partially submerged in
the mud of the stream bank.
Joe could see the rusty jaws biting into the soft furred paw of the
cub. He quickly looked around
for something nearby to help release the trap and the bear’s paw.
Joe found a thick stick about a meter long. He neared the cub and softly spoke to let
the bear know that he didn’t mean it any harm. He gingerly placed his hand on the
bear’s soft fur coat in order to gain it’s confidence. The bear seemed calm enough at the
moment although in pain as it again moaned at the trap’s torment.
Joe’s face was now a mask of concentration as he tried to
remember what he had seen his brother do the afternoon before setting off that
other rusty trap. The problem was
that the trap Hoss set off had been empty while this one still had an animal
trapped in it’s jaws.
Joe carefully placed the
stick in the small gap that existed in the jaws and used all his might to try
and pry the metal teeth apart. Joe
had been concentrating on the trap too much and failed to realise that once the
jaws loosened their grip, they would cause more pain to the bear cub. Although the cub was only half
grown, the claws on the end of
it’s front and back paws were sharp enough to cut into the soft flesh of
a human arm.
Joe let out a scream of pain of his own when he felt the bear
cub’s paw scrape down the top of his right arm. Even though Joe had a thick coat
on, the claw easily cut into the thick material and then into the white skin of
Joe’s arm. The wound
began to sting as it started to bleed through the overcoat. Joe still remembered the bear,
though, and saw that his efforts had worked enough to free the bear’s paw
from the trap.
The bear was now sitting partly in the water while nursing the wound on
his rear paw. Joe was sitting
on the grassy bank only a few metres from the trap nursing his own wound. He tried to hold back the tears of
pain as he touched the jagged cut and blood started to stain his fingers red.
Hoss, who had been asleep as his brother had left him, instantly awoke
when he heard his little brother’s scream. He sat up in a hurry and briefly
looked over to see the bed beside him empty. He dashed out of his tent to find his
brother. He heard the
boy’s cries again and headed towards the stream a few metres away.
He could see his brother sitting on the grassy bank, holding onto his
right arm and grimacing in pain.
He could also see the bear cub sitting in the water with the paw in his
mouth.
“Are you alright, punkin?” Hoss said with worry as he knelt
down beside his brother and take a look at his injured arm.
“I was just trying to help him out, Hoss,” Joe said, as he
bit on his lip to stop the tears.
He then proceeded to tell Hoss about what he had tried to do. He pointed to the partly submerged trap
and then to the bear cub that still nursed it’s injured paw in the
water.
Hoss soon realised about the cub’s mother, knowing that a cub
that young wouldn’t be far from its mother. This alerted Hoss even more to the
danger that Joe could have been in.
Hoss hated to even contemplate what sort of danger Joe might have put
himself in if the cub’s mother had come across his innocent attempts to
free her baby. Even the
baby’s claws could have made a deeper wound than they had.
Hoss took out his handkerchief and asked Joe to take off his overcoat
so that he could look at the gash.
Joe obeyed but winced as he tried to remove the overcoat. Some of the material had become stuck to
the wound due to the bleed and stung a bit as it was pulled off the skin.
Hoss tried not to look worried for Joe’s sake as he glanced at
the wound. The bleeding had slowed
down somewhat, but Hoss could see that the injury could use some medical
attention.
Hoss wrapped the material around the wound and told Joe to put his over
coat back over the top. It would be a good six hours’ ride
before they would be safely back at the ranch. Being a wound from an animal, Hoss
wanted to make sure it was clean and free from infection.
Hoss helped Joe to stand up and they both headed back to the camp
site. Hoss hurried in heating some
coffee and a few beans for breakfast, but neither he or Joe felt much like
eating. While Joe’s reason was
more because of the physical pain
he felt, Hoss’s was more due to the worry about what he was going to tell
his father when they got home.
Hopefully Joe would let Hoss just tell Pa nice and quietly what had
happened before Pa had a chance to get mad at him. Hoss felt as though he had let both Joe
and his father down. He had
promised to take care of Joe and now Joe was injured, although it hadn’t
been entirely anybody’s fault.
He doubted Pa would see it that way.
Joe sipped at a cup of coffee, but the incident by the stream had
shaken him a little. He sat
sullen and subdued until Hoss had gathered all of their belongings and supplies
and told Joe that they were ready to start the journey home. Joe didn’t want to start for home
so early, but he knew that Hoss was worried and knew that he would have to help
his brother explain what had happened to his father.
Half-way through the journey home, Joe dozed off in his saddle and Hoss
was concerned about the boy falling out of the saddle in his sleep and injuring
himself further. He brought
both mounts to a stop and very carefully transferred the sleeping Little Joe in
front of him on his own horse. Then
he started Chubb on a slow walk again, leading Cochise behind him.
As
Hoss neared the Ponderosa homestead, he felt the worry about his brother begin
to lift from his shoulders.
He knew that Joe’s injury wasn’t life threatening, but he
felt responsible, nonetheless.
Due
to the slower ride home, the sun had begun to set a few hours ago leaving only
a soft hue in the sky as Hoss rode his big horse Chubb into the yard, leading
Cochise behind him.
Hoss
looked down at his young brother who was snuggled up close to his large
chest. He hated to wake up the boy, but he needed to get down and stretch
his weary body from the long ride in the saddle.
Over
the last mile or two he had been rehearsing the lines in his head that he would
say to his father to explain the little mishap that Joe had fallen prone to.
The
bandage had managed to stay in place for most of the trip and was hidden from
view at the moment under Joe's warm coat.
"Little
Joe," Hoss said in a gentle voice as he nudged the boy awake enough to get
off the horse.
Hoss
looked up to see his father and big brother Adam walking towards the pair of
them. Joe had seen the two of them as well and this put a
spring into his step.
Little
Joe ran and launched himself into his father's waiting arms and relished the
warmth and security that only that embrace could offer.
Almost
immediately Joe was off into a tirade of words at an impossible speed. He
barely took a breath as he tried to fit the entire trip into one long unbroken
sentence for his father and brother Adam.
"Slow
down, Little Joe," Ben said gently as he put his hand on Joe's upper arms
to try and get the boy to calm down some.
"OUCH!"
Joe cried out as Ben's hand encircled the bandaged cut on his arm. The
wound had stopped bleeding, but it was still rather tender to the touch.
"That hurts, Pa," he admitted and pulled himself away from his father
to rub at his arm.
Ben
now frowned, firstly upon his youngest son as he heard the cry of pain escape
his son's mouth, secondly, at Hoss who suddenly found the ground at his
feet very interesting.
It
wasn't that he hadn't intended on telling his father about Joe's little
encounter with the bear cub. He was just hoping for a more opportune
moment.
That
chance had been just blown to pieces by Joe's sudden exclamation as Ben touched
the sore arm. Adam's
expression changed as he leaned back with his arms folded in front of him
waiting for his younger brother's explanation to their father.
“What
happened to your arm, Joseph?” Ben asked, as he tried to grab a hold of
his son gently so as not to hurt him. Joe gulped a little as he looked
back at Hoss and realised that he had blurted everything out before Hoss had a
chance to smooth things over.
“Let’s
go inside first, Pa,” Hoss said in a nervous voice as he gave a quick
smile back to Joe to say that he understood. “Joe’s real tired after our
trip, Pa, he went to sleep in the saddle.
If we go inside, I’ll explain what happened and you can tend to
Joe’s arm.”
“And
just what happened out there for me to need to attend to Joe’s arm,
Hoss?” Ben asked again, trying to get the answer he desired before they
went inside.
Hoss
took Joe by the arm and started to lead him into the house. Ben and Adam were left to follow with a
million questions on their minds.
Outside,
the sky threatened with a storm as a result of the hot conditions throughout
the day. That, combined with the humidity
and the cool breeze that now blew, would result in thunder and lightening
before dawn.
Joe
now sat on the settee and started to remove his overcoat. It was only now under the lights
of the house, that Ben and Adam noticed the torn fabric on the sleeve of the
coat. They could also see
some blood stains on the coat as well.
“Oh,
Joe,” Ben said, as he spotted the handkerchief wrapped around the
wound. “What happened,
son?” he asked in gentler tones. Adam had gone to get a basin, some
water and a cloth to clean the wound. Ben tried not to look
worried as he finally got to see the cause of his youngest son’s
discomfort.
“How
does it look, Pa?” Hoss asked anxiously. He wanted to know that his little
brother was going to be alright.
Ben looked up and saw the concern on his middle son’s face, but he
forced him to wait until Joe was settled before finding out exactly what
happened.
Although
he knew Joseph was quite capable of telling him, Hoss would be less dramatic
and wouldn’t leave out any vital bits of information during his
explanation. By the look of
Joe’s tired eyes, it looked as though the boy was ready for bed anyway.
Ben
moistened the corner of the cloth in the warm water from the basin and gently
dabbed at the wounded area. Joe
turned his head away, biting his lip and trying not to let his tears fall as a
result of the stinging sensation.
Ben tried to be as gentle as he could, but he also needed to check that
the gash had no signs of infection.
He needed to make sure that all the dirt and cloth had been removed from
the wound.
Ben
would have liked Paul Martin to have a look at the wound as well, but he had
seen the sky himself earlier and knew that there would be quite a downpour
before dawn. The wound looked clean enough. He would get Adam to see Paul in
the morning when Adam went into Virginia City to place the bid on the new
lumber
contract.
Ben
dried the wound, and when he was satisfied that everything was in order, he
wrapped a clean white bandage around the gash. He looked down at his son and
noted that the boy could barely keep his eyes open. He was quite certain that the boy
wasn’t suffering from any ill effects of shock or loss of blood or any
other more serious ailment. The
long ride home had simply worn him out.
Completing the same distance in under two days also made for a long
arduous journey for any rider.
“Alright,
young man, let’s get you settled in your own bed,” Ben said. Joe barely opened his eyes to his
father’s request and obeyed completely as he found himself being lifted
off the couch by his father and carried up the stairs to his bed.
Adam
and Hoss followed, just to make sure that Joe was alright. Ben laid the already sleeping boy
on the bed, and then covered him with a light quilt. He brushed the stray
hair out of the boy’s eyes and gently kissed him on the temple before
bidding him goodnight.
Ben
gestured Adam and Hoss out of the room, and the three of them went downstairs,
ready for Hoss to relay what had happened.
Hoss
poured himself a cup of coffee from the kitchen, and then proceeded to tell Ben
and Adam about finding the rusty old trap the day before. Ben and Adam could both sense the
hidden anger slowly starting to bubble to the surface as Hoss spoke in low
tones about his dislike of such tools. Hoss didn’t think it
was the time or place to discuss what Joe had said about dropping out of
school. He would leave that
for another day.
Hoss
told them about hearing Joe scream early this morning and then coming down to
the stream to see him rescuing a bear cub from another trap in the mud. Ben paled as Hoss told him
about the threat the mother bear might have posed to his youngest son and was
grateful that Joe was now safe and sound in his own bed.
Hoss
retired soon after finishing his cup of coffee, leaving Ben and Adam to talk
further about the lumber contract they needed to worry about tomorrow.
Outside,
the gentle spots of rain started to fall and within a few minutes became heavy
soaking rain with flashes of lightening that danced across the sky and rumbles
of thunder as the clouds came together.
Adam
was due to put in the bid for the lumber contract the next morning. He had spent most of the day before Hoss
and Joe returned pouring over the figures, adjusting them here and
recalculating them here until he was utterly sick of looking at numbers.
There
was a new mine opening up on the Comstock. The owner was a very wealthy man
by the name of Rowland Collins. At
the discussion meetings earlier in the week Collins made it abundantly cleared
to all interested parties that whoever took on his lumber contract could expect
a lot of work to deliver the large amounts of timber required for the
mine. On the other hand, the right
bidder could also expect to
make
a handsome profit at the end of the day.
It
was just the sort of opportunity Adam saw as a great investment not only to the
Ponderosa but also to extend the lumber mill they had running and to employ
some more local men.
However, the Cartwrights knew that there was at least half a dozen other
people interested in bidding and winning the contract. They were unaware of the methods that
some of them would implore to get their own way.
Adam
was part the way through telling Ben about his bid, and the figures he had
carefully worked out for the contract, when there was a huge flash of
lightening outside followed by a very loud clap of thunder.
The
thunder had been loud enough to wake Joe from his sleep, and Ben immediately
got up from the table and ascended the stairs as he heard his son’s
whimpers of fright. It was no
secret that Little Joe was afraid of storms. It had been something that started
when he was very young, even when Marie was still alive.
The
Cartwright’s had assumed that given time the fear would gradually subside
as the boy grew older and more accustomed to the noise. This was not to be, though, and to this
day, on stormy nights, Ben and Adam could be assured of spending at least some
time during the night consoling the frightened lad until he finally went back
to sleep.
***********************************************************
The
next morning Hoss and Adam were seated at the breakfast table with their father
as usual. Hoss was just about to
complete his morning ritual of waking his younger brother for school when Ben
put a gentle restraining arm on his forearm, as Hoss got up from the table.
“I
thought I’d let him stay home today, Hoss,” Ben said, as he lifted
his coffee cup to his lips. He
could see the questioning glances from both sons over the rim of the cup, and
knew that he would have to explain his reasons to them both.
“I
want Paul to take a look at that wound, just to be on the safe side,” Ben
said “And besides, after such
a long trip I figured your younger brother could use the extra sleep. Those roads leading into the city
are going to be very boggy today, and I don’t want him riding to school
on his own in conditions such as that. He might come off Cochise on the
way to school and cause himself a more serious injury”.
Hoss
and Adam gave each other looks that said everything. Ben could try and explain his actions as
much as he liked, but both of his older boys knew that keeping Little Joe home
today from school today was just him showing his concern for the boy and
basically being an old mother hen.
Hoss
had to laugh to himself about the conversation he and Joe had had about him
dropping out of school.
Apparently, all Joe needed to do was show a little blood and give his
father that sad puppy dog look to win him over, and he would be allowed to stay
home from school. Hoss
was fairly certain that if Joe acted the part well enough he would be able to
have his way almost as often as he liked.
There
was just something Joe possessed that enabled him to wrap his father around his
little finger any time he wanted to.
Unfortunately, Hoss knew all too well that there were other family
members who often found themselves being persuaded by those same big green
puppy dog eyes when it suited Joe.
“I’d
better make a start, Pa,” Adam announced as he got up from the
table. “As you say,
those roads into Virginia City could be pretty boggy today, and I only have an
hour before the tender closes on that lumber contract.”
“Be
sure that you see Paul Martin before you make your way home and tell him that I
would like him to stop by when he can and take a look at your brother,”
Ben reminded him.
“And you might drop by and give Joe’s apologies to Miss
Jones this morning as well.
Tell her that Joe can collect whatever extra work he missed out on
tomorrow.”
“I’ll
be sure to tell her, Pa,” Adam said
“And I promise that I won’t leave before seeing Paul.”
Adam
bid his good mornings to his family and made his way out to the barn and his
mount, Sport. He had carefully
folded the bid documents and tucked them into his jacket pocket. He was cutting it a bit fine
by leaving the bid until the last minute, but he was confident enough that the
Cartwright tender would win the valuable contract when all the bids were
compared with each other. The
profit they could make would set the Ponderosa up nicely for the next few
months and hopefully see them successfully through the difficult winter ahead.
While
Adam was riding along the road to Virginia City, the other bidders for the
lumber contract had started to gather outside the general store for the closing
time. Due to the size
of the contract, there were only a few serious contenders able to supply the
large amount of timber sought.
There was Mr Bill Scruggs, who had a forest of logging timber over forty
miles away from the Ponderosa.
A second bid had been placed by Mr Abner Taylor.
The
third bidder had sent a proxy to do his bidding for him. The man himself wanted to remain
out of the public eye as much as possible. Butch Thomas was the man hired to
be his right hand man. Being
that right hand man meant doing everything that his boss normally would have
done. Butch Thomas
didn’t care who he worked for or what the work entailed. So long as there was a healthy pay
packet at the end of every month he would do as he was asked.
In
a few of the towns just outside of Virginia city the man had quickly gained a
reputation as being a harsh man with a mean fist and a quick draw. He had rarely been seen in Virginia City
and that suited him just fine. If
he was unknown, he could blend into the crowd easier and hide his true
dealings.
Thomas
knew that his boss Henry Williams wanted this lumber contract. It was the only thing that Thomas had
heard the man talk about over the last month. Williams had made it clear
that he wanted the contract no matter what. He had warned Thomas about the
Cartwright family and their influence over much of the Virginia City
population.
Thomas
had yet to meet any of the so-called Cartwright’s, but from what he had
been told, they were the only ones that posed a real threat to Williams winning
the contract outright.
When
Collins had first demonstrated his interest in obtaining timber in the area,
Williams had been quick to take the new mining entrepreneur aside and forcibly
impress his offers to fulfil the mine’s needs. Collins, however, had backed away
from the bullish tactics of Williams and openly invited tenders from all over
the area before making a final decision.
Thomas
looked at his watch and noted that perhaps his boss had been wrong about the
Cartwright’s being a threat to his contract. There was but five minutes to go
before the tender closed, and he hadn’t heard any mention of the
Cartwright name this morning.
Collin’s
secretary, Mr Eugene Nelson, now stepped out onto the veranda and looked at his
watch also. “Well, gentlemen,
it looks as though it is almost time to close the tender and start examining
the bids,” Nelson said over the bridge of his spectacles. “Before I say
‘tender closed’, is there any last minute bidders yet to place
their documentation before me for determination?”
The
sound of a galloping horse could be heard coming down the street now at a great pace. Adam Cartwright bolted off his
roan mount Sport and dashed towards Mr Nelson with his papers held out in his
hand. By the time he reached the
veranda, he was slightly out of breath from his dashed efforts to get there on
time.
The
roads had been even worse than Ben had suspected and Adam was glad that his
father had opted to keep Little Joe
home today and not allow him to ride along such roads on his own. There were large ruts all the way
down the road and some dangerous foot holes in places that could see a horse
and rider come to grief if they were not totally concentrating.
“Sorry
I’m late, Mr Nelson, but the roads are very bad today after the storm
last night,” Adam said in his deep baritone voice.
Thomas
had been standing furthest away from the crowd, and now peeked a look at the
new contender from underneath the brim of his hat.
“That’s
alright, Mr Cartwright, I was a
little worried that you weren’t going to make it on time. I’m sure that all your papers are
in order, Adam. Please give
my regards to your father when you return home,” Nelson said, as he took
the bid documents from Adam.
“Gentlemen,
as you are probably aware, going over all of these papers is going to take more
than one day. My colleague and I
will look at all your bids in turn and assess them according to merit. If you would all return one week from
today at this same place, my
associate, Mr Collins, will announce the successful winner of the
contract. I trust you
have a pleasant day,” he added and then turned to walk back to their
makeshift office behind the General Store.
Mr
Williams isn’t going to like this very much, Thomas said to himself as he
watched Adam Cartwright mount his horse again and ride off back down the
street.
Adam
had only travelled a few metres down the road when he saw the person he was
looking for walking along the row of store fronts. He hitched his
horse at the nearest railing and went to speak to the silver-haired man known
as Doctor Paul Martin.
Thomas
had seen Adam meet with the middle-aged doctor and moved closer to the pair so
as to try and over hear the conversation. He knew very little about
these Cartwright people, and much of what he had heard was by word of mouth
only. He needed to discover for
himself what sort of men the Cartwrights were.
The
one known as Adam Cartwright certainly looked a good enough adversary. Was the rest of the family the
same? Maybe Williams had
taken on a family a bit more out of his league. Maybe he would have to forget about this
contract and look for another opportunity down the track.
It
was only after hearing the conversation for a few minutes that Thomas began to
gather information that might prove very useful.
“Pa
wanted to know if you could come out and take a look at Little Joe,
Paul,” Adam said. “He
and Hoss returned from their hunting trip yesterday, but it seems Joe got
clawed by a bear. Its not too
serious and Pa cleaned it out as best he could and kept Little Joe home from
school today, but he wanted you to come and take a look and make sure that
there was no risk of infection.
You know how Pa feels about his
youngest
son,” Adam added.
Paul
Martin nodded his head in agreement.
If there was anything more stable in this world of uncertainty, it was
the unconditional love of Ben Cartwright towards his sons and especially
towards his youngest son Joseph.
It was no secret to Adam, Hoss or the rest of Virginia City that Ben
looked out for the boy at every turn. “I’ll just get my bag
from my office, Adam, and I will get out there as I make my way to the Wilson
farm.”
Thomas’s
mind started filtering some of the information he was hearing. Looking at Adam Cartwright, he
guessed the man’s age to be about 27 or so. But here he was talking about
somebody else in the family who still attended school. He had assumed, from the information
given, that all the Cartwrights were grown men. Listening to this conversation, it
appeared that this was not the case.
Maybe there was some possible leverage here that might work to his
boss’s advantage.
Neither
he or his boss were above such things as blackmail or physical force to obtain
their objectives. Williams normally
just hired somebody else to do the dirty work for him. Maybe there was a way to persuade
the Cartwright’s to withdraw their bid from the tender with just the
right amount of pressure and the right amount of threatening.
Thomas
quickly withdrew from his current position in the shadows and walked down the
alleyway in the opposite direction to avoid being seen. He had to go back and tell
Williams about the Cartwright’s putting in a bid, but maybe they could
discuss an alternative way to win the contract back.
Adam
mounted his horse again and started riding towards his last errand before
returning to the Ponderosa.
He needed to get back and inform his father about the state of the road. Hopefully with enough time left in
the day, they could get a group of ranch hands together and do some repairs to
the road before the afternoon was out.
***********************************************************
As
Adam entered the house, he could hear his father’s voice echo throughout
the room. By the sound of things,
his father was having trouble keeping an active 16 year-old boy entertained by
himself.
“Joseph,
will you please find something useful to do for the afternoon, or I will find
some school work for you to do,” Ben threatened. The morning had progressed
relatively well due to the boy sleeping in until after 9.00am. After a small breakfast, Joe
had attempted to keep himself occupied by helping Hop Sing in the kitchen with
his weekly baking.
Hop
Sing usually did a week’s worth of baking of things such as bread, cakes and
biscuits, that would see the whole family through until the end of the
week. If he did this, there
only came the necessity to bake an occasional apple or apricot pie for dessert
during the week.
Despite all of his culinary expertise, it was often the case that he ran
out of pastries and sweet things early due to having to keep up with
Hoss’s appetite.
Hop
Sing didn’t mind cooking extra for his family. It was exactly through these eyes that
he saw the Cartwright family. He
had been there almost from the time Ben Cartwright arrived on the site of the
yet to be Ponderosa. He had
seen the young men grow from young boys into mature and responsible
adults.
As
for Little Joe, well, he would always have a special place in the little oriental
man’s heart. Hop Sing
had been there when the little curly haired baby had demanded to greet the
world three weeks early. From
the moment he saw the tiny infant, he had promised himself and the gurgling
child in the crib that he would be there no matter what. As the baby grew into a toddler and into
a boy, those feelings only seemed to grow stronger until Hop Sing felt more
protective than ever over the youngest member of the family.
Nevertheless,
all these feelings had been pushed to the limit this morning when Joe first
walked into the kitchen and offered to help with the baking. Within only an hour there was more
flour and sugar on the kitchen floor and on Joe himself than in the mixing
bowls.
Ben
had been busily working at his desk on some payroll figures when he heard the
initial tirade of Cantonese followed by Little Joe running from the kitchen
with Hop Sing close behind wielding a rolling pin.
“You
tell little boy to keep out of kitchen or Hop Sing get mad. Floor all white from split
flour. Little Joe too messy
in Hop Sing’s kitchen. Father
keep boy busy or no supper fixed for tonight for anybody,” he said, as he
stomped back towards his kitchen, still muttering some incoherent words.
“I
was only trying to help, Pa,” Joe said giving his best innocent and hurt
look to his father. He had
tried to mix the batter the way Hop Sing had showed him. It had looked so easy
when he had seen it being done.
Joe
reached up and brushed some of the snow white flour from his curly brown hair
and walked over closer to his father’s desk. “I’m bored, Pa,”
he finally admitted whilst sitting on the edge of the table.
“Don’t
sit on the table, please, Joseph,” Ben said trying to keep his temper in
check. He knew that the boy
meant well and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “How’s your arm feeling this
morning?” Ben said, attempting to change the topic of conversation.
“Um,
oh, its fine, Pa,” Joe answered too quickly. Joe usually tried his best to hide
how he was feeling physically. He didn’t like being sick or
injured, but the threats of getting a doctor were even worse to Little Joe, so
he had learnt over the years to
hide his grimaces and keep his aches and pains to himself.
Joe
knew it was pointless to ask his father about going outside, so he stretched
himself out on the couch and tried to look as though he was reading one of
Adam’s books. Truth be
known, Joe’s arm had begun to ache a little from all the mixing in Hop
Sing’s kitchen.
Ben
was suddenly drawn away from his books and paperwork by the total silence of
the room. He got up
from his desk and smiled tender-heartedly at the sight of his young son curled
up on the settee, sound asleep.
He
couldn’t help but note how painfully much his son looked like Marie. It was even more evident when those dark
lashes closed over the boy’s emerald green eyes in slumber. The boy looked no more than
thirteen, much younger than his
actual age of sixteen.
That
was how Joe remained for over an hour before Adam came into the living room and
heard his brother arguing with his father.
“How’d
you go in town, son?” Ben enquired as he glanced up to see Adam walking
in.
“Fine,
Pa,” Adam replied “Got
the bid in just in the nick of time.
I think we should really well if we are lucky enough to win the
contract. I also ran into Doc
Martin and asked him to come out,” he added and instantly knew he had
gotten the expected scowl from Joe.
Joe
now sat on the couch, looking at the floor in a huff.
How things had turned against him
so much in a day he couldn’t work out. He had been yelled at and
chased by Hop Sing with a rolling pin, he wasn’t allowed to do anything
but look at the four internal walls of the house and now
Adam
was telling him that Doc Martin was on his way as well. Probably only to prod and poke him a bit
and then tell his father that all he needed was rest. Rest, in Joe’s opinion, was
the last thing he needed right now.
Adam
could sense Joe’s unhappy mood at being cooped up in the house all
morning, and he decided to help out both his brother and his father at the same
time. “Pa, that road going to
Virginia City sure needs some repairing today. There are lots of dangerous ruts
and crevices since the storm last night.
I want to take a few of the ranch hands and fill in a few of those holes
before somebody gets hurt. It would
only take somebody riding along that rode and not looking at where they were
going to have a serious accident occur,” Adam gave his father all the clues in
the world to indicate that he actually meant his little brother.
It
was no secret that Joe rode his horse at neck breaking speed anytime his father
wasn’t watching. Joe
would only need to race along the narrow stretch of dirt and have Cochise step
into an unseen hole. Both the
horse and the rider could be seriously injured or killed.
Ben
did get the meaning of his son’s suggestions. “And I suppose you
would like your younger brother to accompany you this afternoon as well,
Adam?” he asked whilst looking in Joe’s direction. Joe’s head quickly snapped up at
hearing that he might be indeed rescued from his boredom.
“Could
I really, Pa?” Joe said in his most innocent voice. He gave a certain puppy dog
look that all the other Cartwrights only knew so well, and both Adam and Ben
rolled their eyes in mock disgust at the boy’s antics.
“I
don’t really see why not,” Ben began, “so long as you stick with Adam
and do as you are told. And
after you have been seen to by Doc Martin,” he added and noted another
scowl marring his son’s handsome face in an instant. He and Adam chuckled out loud at
Joe’s performance.
Waiting
impatiently for another hour, Joe was soon being poked and prodded, like he had
guessed, by the family’s physician and friend, Doctor Paul Martin.
“I
don’t think there’s too much to worry about, Ben,” Paul said,
as he rewrapped the gash on Joe’s arm in a fresh bandage. “The wound looks nasty, but its
nice and clean and there is no sign of infection. I think he should be right to
return to school tomorrow although, it wouldn’t hurt for you to alert the
teacher to the injury. I
wouldn’t suggest he play any rough games for a couple of days, and he
shouldn’t be lifting anything too heavy.”
“Other
than that he’s fit as a fiddle, Ben,” Paul said getting off the
couch and preparing to leave again.
“Thanks
for coming at such short notice, Paul,” Ben said, as he shook the
doctor’s hand. “I
appreciate it.”
“Goodbye,
Adam and Joe,” Paul said, as he exited the front door. “Let me know if you
need me again, Ben.”
Ben
returned inside and noticed Adam getting ready to go back out and fix the road
with the hands. “You be
careful, Joseph, and remember what the doctor said about heavy lifting.”
“I’ll
remember, Pa,” Joe said, a little exasperated. He knew that his family meant well
and cared for him, but sometimes he just wanted to be let alone to do things on
his own.
Adam
and Joe spent a good three hours out on the road helping the hands to fill in
some of the holes on the dirt road. Joe had been restrained from
doing too much by Adam and mostly watched as the men worked, but at least he
was outdoors.
A
couple of times he had been able to shovel some dirt into the holes, but after
only a few minutes, he discreetly put the tool down and rubbed at his aching
arm. He resumed his earlier
position of watching from near the horses until they were ready to head for
home.
That
night the family settled at a fine table set for supper. The topic of conversation changed a
number of times from Hoss’s day with the stock to the progress of
repairing the road. Adam told
Ben that he thought the road was now safe enough for Joe to go to school
tomorrow.
Adam
had suggested that maybe somebody should ride with him in the morning, but Ben
could see the temper flair in his son at this idea and calmly said that he was
sure that Joe would be sensible and careful enough to ride on his own. What he didn’t tell
Joe was that he planned to be in Virginia City towards the end of the school
day and see to the boy making it home safely.
After
supper Joe and Hoss played three rounds of checkers before Ben announced that
it was time for Joe to go to bed.
Joe grumbled at the time as he looked and noticed it was half an hour
earlier than usual. A quick
look at his father’s stern, determined face told Joe he had better think
again about arguing, and he reluctantly bid his older brothers goodnight before
climbing the stairs.
Ben
retired to his own bed about two hours later, but he made sure that his young
son was sleeping soundly first.
He crept into the room as was the custom each night and turned down the
lamp beside the bed. The dim light
now bathed Joe’s face in a soft golden light. Ben couldn’t help but feel a
lump rise to his throat as he watched his youngest sleep. There were times such as
these when the words to express how much he loved the boy just wouldn’t
come out. He gently stroked
the boy’s cheek and closed the door as he left the room.
***********************************************************
The
next morning saw Joe rushing around at the last minute, trying to get ready for
school again. He had gotten dressed
and was trying to put his boots on at the breakfast table and still have enough
time to finish his eggs before he had to leave.
“Sorry,
Pa, gotta go,” he said, as he raced out through the front door towards
the barn. He quickly saddled
Cochise and was about to mount his horse and ride off when Adam appeared at the
doorway to the barn with something in his hand.
“You
forgot these, Joe,” Adam said, as he held up Joe’s school
books. He let Joe mount and
then proceeded to tuck the books in the saddle bags. He buckled up the strap on the bag and
give his brother a quick wave as he started riding towards the school. At this rate the boy would still be
about 10 minutes late for school, but at least he would have something to learn
from when he turned up there.
“Thanks,”
was the reply and Joe rode out of sight.
Adam
returned to the house and to the table, ready to discuss his day’s work
with his father.
For
whatever reason, this morning Joe heeded his father’s words about taking
it slowly and carefully along the repaired road. When asked a few weeks later, he would
not be able to come up with a satisfactory answer to the question of why he
didn’t race to school as normal.
There
were a lot of things about that particular morning that would remain in his
memory for a long time to come.
There were a few things about that morning that he would never forget.
As
Joe neared the halfway mark between the Ponderosa and Virginia City, he came
upon a peculiar sight on the roadway. He stopped his horse Cochise a few
metres from the spot until he had worked out exactly what he was looking at.
It
appeared that a man was laying in the middle of the road. Who he was or why he was there,
Joe didn’t know.
Normally he would have been riding too fast to stop and take note, but
something told him that he should stop and check that the man didn’t need
help or anything. From the way it
looked at the moment, the man could be hurt or dead because he wasn’t
moving at all.
Over
in the trees along the roadway, two
other figures watched the young
curly-haired man stop his horse and dismount. The boy was craning his neck, trying to
see if the man was moving or not.
He dropped the reins of his horse and started to walk a little closer to
the man. He was
now at the man’s feet, and the man still showed no
signs
of moving, and so he decided he best try and shake the man awake.
Just
as he bent down and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, the figure on
the roadway moved. He not
only moved but Joe now found himself falling backwards and looking straight
down the barrel of the man’s gun as the man rolled over and pulled
himself into a sitting position.
The man wasn’t hurt or dead,
it was all a trick to get somebody to stop. Unfortunately, Joe said to
himself, he was that somebody.
Joe
had no gun with him and thus no means of defending himself if necessary. “Look, mister, I just
stopped to see if you were alright, that’s all,” he said nervously
whilst still maintaining his sight on the gun pointed at him.
“Looks
like this just ain’t your lucky day, kid,” the man said, as he now
moved himself into a standing position while still pointing the gun at
Joe. He let out a whistle,
and now Joe turned his head towards the two other men who appeared from behind
the trees and started to walk towards him.
It
was now that Joe told himself to run. He didn’t know who these men
were or what they wanted, but he knew it couldn’t be good for him. He hastily tried to get to his feet and
take off at a run in the opposite direction. If he could just make it back to
Cochise, he would be safe. He could
mount Cochise and be far away from his would-be attackers in a matter of
seconds.
The
two men to Joe’s left saw him trying to make a run for it and get to his
horse and immediately began to pursue him. They couldn’t
afford to let the kid get away.
Joe
knew that he was too far away for his screams of help to be heard by his family
but that didn’t stop him from trying to alert somebody to his
situation. He started yelling for
somebody to help him and for the men to leave him alone as he ran.
Due
to the state of the road, it was an unseen rock that Joe tripped over while
trying to get away that allowed the men to catch him. Joe had come down painfully on his
knees and was just starting to scramble to his feet again in desperation when
he felt a pair of hands grab him around his chest and start dragging him
backwards.
He
was now scared and it made him try and scream louder for somebody to help
him. His cries of help were
quickly cut off by one of the assailant’s placing a rough and calloused
hand over the boy’s mouth and clamping it down tight.
Both of the men now started to drag the
still struggling boy off the roadway out of sight behind the trees. The third man tried to catch a
hold of the reins of Cochise, and then led her behind the thicket of trees as
well.
Joe
struggled and struggled to get away from his attackers, but the men were just too
strong, and no matter how hard he kicked and fought, their grip still remained
vice like around his chest.
The hand over his mouth still remained firmly in place and Joe thought
he would pass out from the lack of oxygen.
Joe
now felt himself roughly pushed against the trunk of a tree and the men tried
to get the upper hand and restrain him. Joe was still trying to yell
through the hand over his mouth.
He could see Cochise giving the third man a hard time and hoped that
somehow his animal friend might find a way to help free him.
Joe
felt his wrists being bound together tightly by rough fibrous string out in
front of him. His
ankles were next. There was
no way he could run anywhere now.
He was trapped.
It was now that the hand over his mouth was released briefly.
Joe
took this opportunity and tried to scream for help again. He was quickly silenced by a
savage slap across his face that stung from the force. Joe now looked towards the face of
the man in front of him and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.
“If
you scream again, I promise you worse than that,” the man said. The voice was cold and hard and
although barely above a whisper, something about it made Joe take note of what
was being said to him.
“How
we gonna get him away from here now, Butch?” one of the other men asked
the leader standing in front of Joe.
“You
just leave the thinking to me.
I’ve got this all figured out,” Thomas said. “You two just make sure the
horses are saddled and ready to go in a few minutes. We have to get out of here quickly. Somebody might be coming along here in a
minute, and I want to be long gone before that happens. This kid ain’t going
nowhere, I assure you,” he added and looked directly at Joe as he said
the words.
“Who
are you and what do you want with me?” Joe asked nervously.
“Don’t
ask too many questions, kid, and you might live through this,” Thomas
answered. “We just want your
daddy to sit up and listen for a minute.
After he does what we tell him, you can go back to him.” Somehow the words sounded very
fake to Joe as he looked upon his captors.
They hardly looked like the kind to keep their
word.
“And
now my, little friend, its time for you to go to sleep for a while,”
Thomas said “And when you
wake up, you will be in a nice new little place far, far from here. Now hold still a minute, this stuff
takes a minute to actually work,” he said, as Joe watched him pull a
coloured handkerchief from his pants pocket.
The
checkered cloth had a pungent smell to it that was unmistakeable: ETHER. Even though Joe was only sixteen, he had
learnt enough from Doc Martin over the years to know what the stuff was and
what it’s effects were when used on people. It was now that Joe became
even more afraid for his life and started to struggle against his bonds and
captors once more.
“That
won’t do you any good, kid,” Thomas said with an evil chuckle as he
started descending the cloth towards the boy’s face. Joe tried to turn his head away in
an attempt to avoid the intoxicating fumes.
One
of the other men grabbed Joe’s head by his curly hair and forced his face
towards the cloth.
Thomas was now able to secure the cloth of Little Joe’s mouth and
nose. The kid had started to
scream for help again, but the cries were now muffled by the cloth and barely
audible for anybody to hear him.
Joe
tried to hold in his breath in an attempt not to breath in the fumes. His attempts failed, however, and as
soon as Joe released the breath, the fumes began to invade his nostrils and
sinuses. He could feel
his head beginning to swim from the drug and he began to feel very
light-headed. He told himself
that he couldn’t afford to fall asleep while in the hands of these
men. They wanted to take him away
from his family.
Thomas
became impatient at how long the drug was taking to work and pressed the cloth
even firmer against the boy’s mouth and nose. By now the kid’s struggles
had become weaker and weaker. Soon
they ceased all together, and he felt Joe’s body go completely limp. The boy’s knees began to
buckle and he had to grab the kid around the chest again to prevent him
collapsing to the ground. The boy
was now unconscious.
Thomas
held the cloth in place for a few more seconds before removing it. He placed it back in his pocket, knowing
that it might be necessary to dose the kid again along the way. The ride to the shack was about
six hours, and he had no idea how long the kid would be asleep. He slapped the kid on the face a
couple of times just to be sure that he was unconscious.
Joe
was deeply under the effects of the Ether, and didn’t even stir at the
slaps. Thomas now secured a
blindfold over Joe’s eyes and, then tied him face down over the front of
his horse. A blanket was
placed over the top of the kid to avoid the possibility of him being seen as
the men rode.
Thomas
now mounted his horse along with the other men. Cochise was tethered to one of the
low hanging branches of the trees.
“Make
sure that you tuck that note into his saddle somehow,” Thomas said to the
third man before they started their journey. The man did as he was told but
decided that he would like to have Joe’s saddle bags as a souvenir. He unbuckled the saddle bags with
Joe’s initials on them and then tucked the rolled piece of paper in the
front part of the saddle. The
trio now rode off down a different trail towards their hide-out with their
hostage.
Joe’s
family assumed that he had been at school today. It wouldn’t be until much later in
the day that they would discover the boy’s forced disappearance. By that time the three men with
their hostage would be almost at their intended destination.
The
trip turned out to be a long one for all.
Mostly because they had kept the pace up during the whole journey in
fear that the boy would be discovered missing sooner rather than later. They wanted to make sure that if any
search party were looking for the kid, they had a sufficient head start.
The
small shack came into view, and the three men almost sighed relief at the
sight. They were lucky that their
kidnap victim had remained under the effects the Ether for the entire trip.
Joe had made a few inaudible moans during
the arduous ride, face down on the horse but the sound of the hooves racing
along the dirt road muffled them to the extent that his assailants never even
knew that the unconscious boy was making them.
The
horses stopped out front of the shack and started breathing hard to slow down
their heart rates and regain some of their lost energy. Their masters wearily climbed down
from their backs and walked forward to open the door to the abandoned dwelling.
The
front door swung open with a creak and revealed a sparsely furnished two-roomed
shack. It was obvious that not only
had the place been abandoned a very long time ago but the infrequent visits
during the year by squatting trappers had seen the little shack fall into a
state of disrepair.
There
were a few hand-made rickety chairs, enough for all of the men. They all looked like they were
ready to fall apart as soon as someone sat on their unsteady frames.
There
was a small pot belly stove in one corner of the larger room, but it was of no
use as part of the chimney was missing from the top. They wouldn’t be able to
start a fire without suffocating themselves in all the smoke that would result.
The floor was rock hard dirt that had been worn down with years of continual
trampling over it.
The
men were now thankful that they had all brought along their bedrolls. At least with their blankets and saddles
they would be granted a little comfort from the cold that would permeate the
floor during the cool nights.
There
was very small room to the left of the larger one. It was probably used as a single bedroom
when the shack was permanently occupied, but for now Butch Thomas surveyed the
area and marked the room as a cell for his hostage. At least with the kid in there, escape
would be almost impossible without the three of them seeing his attempts to
flee first.
The
man had brought a few days supply of food and water with them. They would just have to endure the rest
of the primitive conditions for a few days until Cartwright came to the party
and withdrew his bid for the lumber contract.
Butch
Thomas untied his saddle and bedroll from his horse first. He set them up inside so that he would
soon be able to get a few hours of sleep.
He knew that the next few days would be long and tedious until they got
word from either Williams or Cartwright.
Thomas
had instructions that no matter what the probable outcome, he was to make sure
that Cartwright was taught a lesson through his son. Thomas had been told that he had to keep
the kid alive until the ransom note was received, but other than that, Williams
had put Thomas in complete charge.
He and Thomas had discussed that the way to hurt Ben Cartwright the most
was through one of his treasured sons.
Thomas had assured Williams that although
he wouldn’t kill the boy, he would want to make sure that the boy never
forgot the name of Butch Thomas. He
wanted the boy to fear his very presence no matter where he was. He would become the kid’s
ultimate nightmare. One that was
real and came back to haunt the boy time and time again, even once the kid was
back with his family.
Of
course there would be the physical injuries to remind the boy as well. He intended to deliver a few
so-called ”bumps and bruises”
to Little Joe, but after a time they would heal and the kid would
eventually forget that he had ever been under the control of Butch Thomas.
What
Thomas intended to inflict on the boy mentally was a lifetime of torture and
torment that would scarcely leave the boy alone. He wanted to make sure that the kid
would never ever forget.
Butch
Thomas walked out to his horse for a second time and pulled the blanket from
the limp form, still bound over the front part of the horse. The boy was still unconscious.
Thomas was mentally kicking himself, thinking that he had overdone things with
the ether and the kid would already be dead before he could have some fun with
him.
He
was brought back to reality with the small groans that escaped the boy’s
cracked lips as he hauled Joe’s body from the horse and dumped him
unceremoniously on the hard dirt floor of the smaller room inside the shack.
It
looked as though the kid might prove
to be a tougher nut to crack than he first gave the kid credit for. The kid might turn out to be a
challenge after all. He would just
have to wait and see, he told himself, and grinned devilishly at the thought of
the days ahead.
Thomas
didn’t bother to remove the blindfold from Little Joe’s eyes. He looked at the crumpled form
laying on the hard dirt floor.
The kid didn’t move or make any sounds. It was enough to assume that the
kid would continue to sleep for a few more hours. Enough time for the weary
kidnappers to get some shut-eye of their own.
Thomas
closed the door to the small room and went about laying down on his
bedroll. He didn’t
bother to spare their hostage a blanket for warmth. He only had one, and he wasn’t
about to give it up for any kid, no matter what the kid might be worth,
money-wise.
Thomas
now closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. The other two men were already asleep in
their own bedrolls. The
little shack was completely silent once again.
***********************************************************
CHAPTER THREE
Ben
Cartwright had filled his day with a few menial chores around the ranch. It was about 2.00 pm and after lunch
that he rode into Virginia City.
He had a few odd errands to run before he would conveniently turn up at
his son’s school in time to accompany him home.
Although
his boy was now sixteen years old, the incident with the bear on the camping
trip reminded Ben of just how vulnerable his youngest son could be at
times.
When
he finally collected the mail at the post office, Ben looked at his watch and
saw that he had a spare ten minutes before Joe would be finished with
school. He told himself that
this would be the perfect opportunity to sneak up on the boy and see first hand
how he was performing in Miss Abigail’s class.
He
was reminded about the constant stream of arguments that he and Joe seemed to
be having lately about him leaving school early to work on the ranch with his
brothers.
Ben
was firm, though, and told Joe that he would not be leaving school for another
year no matter what. He
secretly wished that the boy would follow in Adam’s footsteps and show
some interest in attending college. He knew that Joe had demonstrated on more
than one occasion that he had no intentions whatsoever of attending
college.
Partly
that was because Joe feared leaving his family and familiarity behind. Joe would be lost in the big city and
Ben would feel like a piece of his soul had been taken away if Joe left the
Ponderosa even for a short time.
No, Joe’s home was with his family on the Ponderosa and always
would be.
Ben
tethered Buck at the hitching rail outside the school. He briefly glanced at the stalls where
the children kept their horses during class. He was a bit disturbed when he
didn’t see the familiar black and white pinto amongst the other
animals. He started to
wonder if school had been let out early, and Joe had started off towards home
on his own.
As
Ben neared the front door to the school room, he could hear the deep, even
voice of the school teacher, Miss Abigail Jones, as the children recited their
multiplication table.
This information told him that school had not been let out early for the
day.
Where
was Joe, he asked himself secretly.
He started to imagine all sorts of reasons why Joe wouldn’t be at
school. He told himself that
he would be delivering a severe lecture and possibly a tanning to go with it if
one son had defied his wishes and actually skipped school today.
Ben’s
train of thought was interrupted by Miss Jones greeting him at the door. All the children giggled at the door as
they saw the school teacher making conversation with the eligible Cartwright. It was not secret in Virginia City that
Abigail Jones was a spinster on the hunt for a husband. A fine, upstanding and wealthy citizen,
like Ben Cartwright, who was also a widower, would be an excellent choice.
“Good
afternoon, Mr Cartwright,” Miss Jones said to Ben. “I trust that Joseph is feeling a
little better today. I suspect you
have come to collect his day’s work instead of Adam today?”
“Isn’t
Joseph here?” Ben said, asking the most obvious question, already knowing
the answer as well.
“I
sorry, Mr Cartwright, I don’t understand,” Miss Jones said, a
little perplexed. “Adam
came by yesterday and told me that Joseph had a minor accident whilst camping
and wouldn’t be attending yesterday.
When Joseph didn’t turn up this morning, I just assumed that he
still wasn’t feeling the best and you had decided to keep him home
another day.”
“Miss
Jones, Joseph left for school this morning like any other day,” Ben said,
trying to hide the worry and anxiety starting to build up inside him. “You say you haven’t seen
him all day?” he enquired.
“No,
Mr Cartwright, I haven’t. I
trust everything is alright and Joseph hasn’t done anything
foolish,” she said, avoiding mentioning Joe’s sometimes flippant
attitude towards his schooling. It
was no secret to her, either, that Joe wished to be working with his father and
brothers rather than sitting in a classroom all day.
“I’m
sure it is, Miss Jones,” Ben
said, as he prepared to go and start looking for his wayward son. “Don’t worry, Joseph will be
here first thing in the morning, and I will make sure that he catches up the
lessons he had missed for the last two days. Good day, Miss Jones,” he said and
turned and quickly mounted Buck to head for home.
Ben
tried not to think the worst of his son as he tried to work out why Joe
hadn’t attended school today.
Maybe there was an explanation for his absence. He was always ready to give his
sons the benefit of the doubt, but he also knew that if he found that Joseph
had lied to him, the boy would be on the receiving end of some sort of
punishment.
Ben
failed to note that the closer he got to the house, the quicker his pace. Something deep inside him told him that
his son had not deliberately disobeyed him. A feeling of dread started to
settle in the pit of Ben’s stomach.
Adam
and Hoss had been working on their chores when they heard the sound of pounding
hooves approaching the ranch yard.
Both of them expected it to be their younger brother. They were both surprised
when they turned and saw their father gallop into the yard aboard Buck.
They
had seen their father continually chastise their younger brother for running
into the yard at such a pace.
All of them remembered too well the day Joe’s mother Marie had
been killed. Why was Pa running
into the yard at such frightening speed?
“What’s
wrong, Pa?” Adam asked, as he and Hoss walked over to their father as he
dismounted from his horse. Buck was
lathered with sweat, and they could tell that the horse had been running for
some time. Something was
wrong.
“Have
either of you seen your younger brother today?” Ben demanded while he
tried to catch his own breath. Adam looked at Hoss and both of them shook their
heads at one another.
“No,
neither of us has seen him since breakfast, Pa,” Adam answered for the
both of them. “Why,
what’s wrong?” he asked, as he felt the worry and concern radiating
from his father.
“I
just came from the school,” Ben paused whilst he tried to scan his older
boys’ reaction “Joe never turned up there today,” he then
added. “His horse
wasn’t in the stalls when I went past, either. I don’t think he even got
there this morning,” he said, trying to convey his concern as calmly as
possible.
“Where
would he have gone, Pa?” Hoss now asked. Ben could sense that Hoss was
instantly worried about his younger brother. Hoss wouldn’t even have
thought about the boy missing school.
He just wanted to protect his baby brother and make sure he went through
life alright.
Ben
was taken aback by Adam’s reaction, though. He knew that Adam was normally the first
to dismiss the boy’s actions as careless and self-destructive. Ben fully expected Adam to come out
saying that this sounded exactly like something Joe would do. It certainly wasn’t the first time
that the boy hadn’t turned up at school.
This
time, however, there was immediate concern in Adam’s reaction which made
Ben’s own worry divide and multiply.
“Has anybody seen him today?” Adam said, as he logically
tried to work out where the missing boy might have gone.
“I
haven’t had the chance to talk to anybody yet. Maybe that’s where we should
start first,” Ben said, secretly praising his eldest son’s ability
to be calm at the time of a crisis.
It was always Adam who steered this family through difficult times and
it looked as though this might be another such time.
“Let’s
get saddled up and go back into town and ask around if anybody has seen him
today,” Ben instructed.
“Hoss, you better saddle me one of the other horses. Buck’s about done in for
today from that ride home.” Hoss gave a simple nod and headed into the
barn to saddle a horse for his Pa and his own horse Chubb.
Within
twenty minutes the three of them were mounted on their respective horses and
started down the road towards Virginia City. All three of them rode in silence at
first. They were lost in their own
thoughts about what might have happened to Joe.
Ben
felt a little uncomfortable on the unfamiliar horse. The animal moved well enough, although
not as smoothly at his own horse Buck. The animal shied away from a few
of the remaining ruts in the road, and it took most of Ben’s
concentration to control the nervous animal as they travelled. The rest of his concentration was
directed towards his youngest son and his whereabouts.
Adam’s
horse Sport was closest to the line of trees as they made their way towards the
city. They had made some basic
plans about splitting up when they got to town to cut down the time frame and
speak to as many people as possible who might have seen Joe this morning on his
way to school.
They
were almost at the point where Joe had been taken from when Adam’s horse
began to slow down and act strangely. Adam tried to talk to the horse
calmly but still Sport moved one way and then the other. Ben and Hoss slowed their own horses
down to try and assist Adam.
“What’s
wrong with him, Adam?” Hoss asked, as Adam still struggled to get Sport
to behave.
“I
don’t know, Hoss,” Adam said, as he shortened the reins and tried
to get the horse to stop his strange behaviour.
It
was only then that they all heard a familiar whinny from underneath the line of
trees to Adam’s right.
Sport gave a reply, and it was only then that all three of them realised
why Adam’s horse Sport had started to act up as they rode past this particular
spot.
Ben’s
hopes soared that they had found his son Joseph, and all of them quickly rode
towards the tree line.
When
they neared the tree, Adam was the first to spot Joe’s horse
Cochise. The pinto again gave
a whinny as Sport and Chubb approached. The horses had been stable mates
for a long time, hence the whinnying when they where near each other.
Adam
dismounted and walked over to the black and white painted horse. He was quickly glancing about,
trying to see any signs of the rider who had perhaps fallen and failed to make
it to school today for that reason.
His theory was quickly falling apart as neither of them could find any
sign of Joe in the nearby area.
Cochise
appeared to be unhurt. The horse seemed very calm and relaxed. Its breathing was normal and not
laboured, indicating that the horse had been tethered to the tree for a long
time. If the horse had been
here for some time as things suggested, where was Joe?
“Where
can Joe be?” Ben asked out loud as he too began to scan the nearby road
and area behind the trees, hopeful of finding his son, maybe hurt from a fall
of his horse, but finding him nonetheless.
Still he couldn’t see the boy, and his hopes quickly waned and
were replaced by fear once again.
“Something
don’t add up, Pa,” Hoss now said to Ben, voicing his concern. “Joe would never leave Cochise
unattended for this length of time.” Joe was careless at times but not
this careless with Cochise.
Adam
had walked around to the opposite side of Cochise to scan the area in the other
direction for a sign of his missing brother. He had moved his hand along the
horse’s rump towards her head whilst he walked, and it was only now that
he spotted the rolled up piece of paper jutting out from the front of the
saddle.
He
seemed to be fixated to the spot for a few seconds as he tried to figure out
what the piece of paper might mean to his brother’s whereabouts. His own fears began multiplying
increasingly and he nervously took the piece of paper out of its hiding place.
“Pa,”
Adam said in almost a whisper as he shakily handed his father the piece of
paper. For just a moment,
Adam’s deep brown eyes met his father’s. Words weren’t needed to be
said, as they could each read the fear in the other man.
Ben
nervously took the slip of paper from his eldest son. For a few seconds all he was able to do
was hold it in his hands and wonder what might be written on it. Could it hold a clue to his son’s
disappearance?
Something about it told him that it held
a much more sinister than a simple clue to Joe’s whereabouts. He felt his heart pounding in his chest
and the his heart suddenly weighted very heavy as he thought of his youngest
son.
Ben
could feel the eyes of both his sons looking at him. He knew that they wanted
to see what was written on the piece of paper as well. With hands as shaky as Adam’s, he
began to unroll the note.
At
first the handwriting was so messy that Ben started to think that the note
might actually be written by his left-handed son. Maybe Joe was in some trouble, but was
able to write a note to his family to tell them where he was to come and help
him.
As
Ben’s eyes read down the piece of paper, his heart began to constrict
even more at the words he read and the threat that they held towards his
youngest son.
Adam
and Hoss wanted to shout at their father to read the note out loud. But something about the older
man’s pale complexion caused them to become worried about their father.
Ben
suddenly felt as though his legs were too weak to hold him up, and without
warning he fell to the hard ground on his knees. He still held the piece of paper
but enough to read the contents.
Somehow, he was trying to convince
himself that what he was reading was a terrible hoax. This couldn’t be happening
to his son he told himself.
It was all a bad joke.
Adam
and Hoss had gasped out loud as they saw their father overcome with emotion and
fall to his knees as the burden obviously became too much. They were about to try and help
their father stand up when they saw him gaze back up at them.
They
could see that their father was barely holding back his tears. He handed the note to Adam and
motioned that he read it out aloud.
Adam
looked at Hoss and then at his father.
The latter seemed to be gaining control of himself, but as Adam started
to read the note, Ben put his head in his hands as the words echoed in his
mind:
”BEN CARTWRIGHT,
WE
HAVE YOUR YOUNGEST SON. IF YOU WANT TO SEE HIM ALIVE
AGAIN, YOU WILL WITHDRAW YOUR BID
FOR THE LUMBER CONTRACT.
ONCE
YOUR BID IS WITHDRAWN, YOUR SON WILL BE RETURNED TO YOU AT A TIME OF OUR
CHOOSING.
DON’T
TRY AND INVOLVE THE LAW OR HE WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES.
YOU
HAVE 24 HOURS TO COMPLY WITH OUR DEMANDS.
YOU
ARE BEING WATCHED AT ALL TIMES. YOU WILL BE
CONTACTED.”
The
words were now echoing to Adam and Hoss as they were trying to contemplate what
sort of danger their brother was in.
Adam’s thoughts were on the lumber contract. He was trying to figure out who was
desperate enough to get the contact.
Who
would stoop so low as to hold a boy’s life up against the profit to be
gained by the felling of a forest of pine trees? At the moment with his mind still a
whirl from the note, he couldn’t put a face to anybody that he
immediately thought might be involved.
“If
they hurt Little Joe,” Hoss said, as he tried to hold back the tide of
anger within him,
“I’ll……….I’ll… I don’t
know what I’ll do,” he said in exasperation. He couldn’t find the words to match
the anger he felt.
“I
know how you feel, Hoss,” Adam said, putting a comforting hand on the big
man’s shoulder. “We all feel that way right now,” he added,
trying to justify the way his brother felt.
In
all honesty, no matter how much he denied it, he did feel that way, and
probably a whole lot more. He
didn’t know what he would do if he came face to face with the men who
held his baby brother. The fact
that men used something as precious as a human life, and a boy at that sickened
him. From the wording on the
note it seemed that there was at least more than one person involved.
Ben
was lost in thoughts about what might be happening to his young son at this
very moment. Suddenly his
face of worry and pain turned to one of anger as his brown eyes darkened and he
let the anger that they all felt show openly. Adam and Hoss had rarely seen the
flames of rage in their father’s deep brown eyes that they
saw
now.
It
made them take a step back and truly fear for their father. Ben had always taught his sons to avoid
revenge and retribution when it
involved family. He had
taught them to turn the other cheek and let the law handle it, but right now
Ben was having trouble finding comfort in his own teachings.
“Come
on, we’ve got a lot to discuss back home,” Ben said in a low and
deadly voice. He mounted his
substitute horse and started to ride back towards the Ponderosa before Hoss and
Adam had even swung into their saddles.
Once
back at home, Ben walked over to his desk and leaned over the front of it
whilst holding himself up. At
first he said nothing as his sons walked through the door prepared to listen to
Ben’s plan about how to get Little Joe back.
Adam
and Hoss sat on the chairs behind their father, waiting for him to say the first
words of his plan. They could
see that Joe’s kidnapping deeply worried their father. They all wanted to see the
youngest member of the family back safe and sound.
“Whatever
we decide to do, we have to keep the plans to ourselves,” Ben said, as he
started the conversation. It
was only now that he turned around to face his two sons. They both could see the pain and
anguish written all over the man’s face.
“Adam,
I want you to go to Mr Nelson and tell him that we are withdrawing our bid for
the lumber contract,” Ben said.
“Do
you think that’s the best move?” Adam asked without spelling out
that he thought his father was giving up too quickly. He knew how his father felt about Joe,
but maybe there was a way to draw out the kidnappers and rescue Joe before they
had to do anything hasty about the lumber contract.
“Yes,”
Ben said curtly, expecting that his request would be taken seriously. “I will word a carefully written
letter to Mr Nelson,” Ben said, as he gave a particular look to Adam.
Hoss
had not cottoned onto Ben’s idea about how to alert Joe’s
kidnapping to Sheriff without alerting their intentions to Joe’s
abductors. If someone was watching
them as the note suggested, they would have to be very careful about what they
did out in the open for everybody to see.
They would have to conceal their plans in order to carry out their goals
without putting Joe’s life in any further danger.
“Do
you want me to write it, Pa?” Adam asked.
“Yes
Adam, but I am going to tell you exactly what to say,” Ben said. Hoss now knew how they planned to
alert Roy Coffee. Ben came
over to the settee between his two eldest boys as they sat down to write the
letter that would look as if they
were withdrawing their bid to the lumber contract as demanded.
In
addition to that, they would have carefully concealed lines in the letter that
would alert Mr Nelson and his employer to the predicament the Cartwrights found
themselves in. The letter
asked for Mr Nelson to secretly give the letter to Roy Coffee so that he could
make careful note about Joe’s abduction.
The
letter was strictly worded to tell Roy Coffee that he wasn’t to come out
to the Ponderosa unless it was urgent.
They told Roy about the family being watched and about the consequences
threatened towards Joe if the kidnappers thought the law was involved in some
way.
Half
an hour after they had arrived back home, Adam found himself back aboard Sport
on the road to Virginia City. At
some point during the journey, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck
rise. He knew that his follower
wasn’t far behind.
He
just hoped that the plan they had worked out would help secure his
brother’s safe release. He
just wished they had some sort of clue to the place where Joe was being held. At the moment they had no idea.
When
Adam arrived at Nelson’s makeshift office behind the General Store, he
made sure that his actions were as deliberate as possible for his follower to
see. He wanted the man to think that
they were doing everything they were told to do.
Eugene
Nelson looked up surprised to see Adam Cartwright walking into his office. He hadn’t expected to see any of
the contract bidders for another couple of days.
“Adam
Cartwright,” Nelson greeted him as he got out of his chair and went to
shake Adam’s outstretched hand. He could see Adam’s
deliberate actions and could see the younger man looking nervously about.
He
knew that something was wrong. He
didn’t know what, but experience told him that whatever it was, it
couldn’t be good. He told
himself to play along with Adam for the time being, and he was sure that the
younger man would reveal the true reason for his visit in due course.
“Just
came to give you this letter of
withdrawal for the lumber contract, Mr Nelson,” Adam said in a normal but
clear speaking voice. A volume that
everybody would have easily been able to hear.
He
had heard the door to the General Store open a few times since he walked
in. He tried not to look back and see
if he saw anybody that might have information about his brother. Out of the corner of his eye he could
see a smallish figure lurking towards the back of the store, looking aimlessly
at some of the products on the shelf.
“Are
you sure you want to withdraw your bid?” Nelson asked, as he saw
Adam’s expression. The brown
eyes told the man not to ask too many questions.
“Yes,
I am sure, Mr Nelson. Everything
you need know is in that letter,” Adam said. He briefly held Nelson’s gaze as
the man tried to take the sealed envelope from his hand. Something about Adam’s eyes told
Nelson that whatever was wrong, he would find the answer by reading the
letter.
Nelson
tried to keep up appearances by quickly glancing at the letter as though it
were a short note to withdraw the bid. Upon looking at the letter, he
could see that there was much more detail to the letter, but he felt that he
would need to read the remaining contents of the letter in the safety of his
office, away from prying eyes.
Adam
kept his meeting with Nelson as short as possible. He could see from the man’s body
language that Nelson understood the secondary nature to the letter. He just hoped that Nelson wouldn’t
take any longer than necessary to alert Roy to the family’s loss.
Adam
now rode back to the Ponderosa while his mind remained on what might be
happening to his younger brother.
He felt the company of his follower behind him
until he was almost back at the ranch. He didn’t know exactly when the man stopped
following him. He was too afraid
for Joe to look back and try and discover the direction of the man’s
travel.
Back
in Virginia City, Eugene Nelson had gone to his office and locked the door
behind him. He had seen a
smallish man leave the store right after Adam and assumed that he must have
been the reason for Adam’s secrecy and urgent behaviour. He pulled out the folded
letter again and now read the letter word for word very carefully.
As
the got further and further down the page his eyes widened at just how much
trouble the Cartwrights were in and what a terrible danger Ben’s youngest
son Joseph was in. He made
sure that he made note of all the things in the letter that he was supposed to
see, especially the part about alerting the Sheriff but telling him that he
must under no circumstances come out to the ranch.
Nelson
slipped the letter back into his pocket and calmly walked out the back door to
his office and casually walked to the Sheriff’s office as though to make
idle conversation.
Roy
Coffee gave the man a brief greeting of hello as Nelson walked into his
office. He could see the man
looking back and forth and all around as though somebody might be watching him.
“Can
I help you there, fella?” Roy asked. It was now that Nelson walked over
to the middle-aged Sheriff and whispered into his ear that he needed to talk to
him in private.
Nelson
had been diligent enough to close the door to Roy’s jailhouse behind him
as he walked in, and now he made sure that the door was locked. He pulled out the folded letter from Ben
Cartwright and gave it to the Sheriff to read.
Nelson
remained silent as the Sheriff read the contents of the letter. He,
too, grew more concerned the further down the page he read. He found his throat constricting
with emotion at the thought of Little Joe being held by people willing to hurt
him.
Joe
had been coming in and out of his jailhouse since the man could remember. The boy had been about six years old
when he used to say a cheerful hello to the lawman. Nowadays the visits were less frequent,
but that didn’t stop Roy’s warm feelings towards the handsome young
boy. He had read the lines from Ben
about him not going out to the Ponderosa.
Roy
knew why he must stay in town and put up a front, but it struck at everything
that made him become a lawman and at his very own soul to know that people he
cared deeply about were being threatened or hurt and he couldn’t lift a
finger to do anything about it. He told himself that he
would keep an eye on every drifter and stranger in the town over the next day
or so, just in case he could find out some information about Little Joe’s
whereabouts.
After
that, he couldn’t promise himself that he wouldn’t go out to the
Ponderosa and start a search party or posse. For the moment, he would abide by
his friend’s request and just keep his eyes open.
Back
at the Ponderosa, Adam and Hoss were buckling on their gun belts and getting
their horses ready to ride out and try and find some evidence that might lead
them to their little brother. Ben
had argued about him going out as well until Adam had reminded him about all of
them being watched.
Adam
proposed that if just he and Hoss went out and then split up, at least Ben
would be at home if any further notes came from the kidnappers or if they
actually let Little Joe go.
Hopefully the man who had been following Adam had seen the transaction
between him and Nelson and was now well on his way to telling his kidnapper
friends that the bid was withdrawn, and they would be soon making arrangements
to release Little Joe, unharmed.
Something
in the back of his mind told him that this wasn’t something to happen
anytime soon, but he needed to hold onto the belief even if it was only for a
little while.
Ben
had finally and reluctantly agreed to stay at home in case there was further
news about Joe. He watched his
eldest boys ride off with an even heavier heart, and he prayed that by morning
he would have all of his sons back at home safe and sound.
***********************************************************
CHAPTER FOUR
Back
at the shack, the three men inside the larger room were just beginning to stir
after three hours of solid, undisturbed sleep. Thomas was the first to
wake, and he stretched his tired and stiff muscles. He needed a strong cup of black coffee,
but even that luxury would be denied him and the others until they got a fire
going outside the shack.
He
cursed out loud at the conditions he was forced to endure and promised that he
would be demanding a bonus from Williams for his discomfort when he returned to
collect the rest of his money.
He had demanded half of the money before he even took on the job, but
now he knew that he should have asked for at least double before agreeing to
staying in run-down lodgings such as these.
He
had even played with the idea of asking the boy’s father for ransom money
in addition to the contract withdrawal. With the information he had been
given about how much the Cartwright family was actually worth, the father would
be surely glad to part with a few measly thousand dollars in return for his
youngest son. It wasn’t
as if he didn’t have the money.
Thomas
could kill two birds with the same stone, collect his money and the proposed
bonus from Williams, and also gain a few thousand extra from the boy’s
father, unbeknown to his boss.
Williams didn’t have to know every detail of the boy’s
return, Thomas told himself.
If he decided the boy was worth a little bit extra, then that was his
business.
Thomas
got up and went outside to start the fire needed for that cup of coffee. He grumbled the entire way and ended up
shouting at his two colleagues to get their lousy carcasses out of bed and earn
their keep.
Inside
the second room, Little Joe had been dragged from his deep sleep by
Thomas’s shouting at the other two men. At first he couldn’t
work out why he could hear raised voices.
Maybe Pa and Adam were having one of their arguments downstairs.
Then,
all at once, the truth struck him full force as he tried to open he eyes and
couldn’t. The pain from
his bound wrists and ankles had crept up him slowly at first and had been
nothing more noticeable than dull aches when he was first brought to the shack.
Joe
felt the fear in him start to rise as he realised that the reason he
couldn’t see was a blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes. And the reason for the now stinging
sensation in his wrists and the numbness in his ankles was the strong rope that
bound him hand and foot.
Joe
tried to force back the tears that started rolling down his face at his
captivity. He didn’t know
where he was. He could only
remember the face of the man who had placed the ether-soaked cloth over his
face when he was dragged off the road.
He could remember the man and his friends laughing at his plight as he
desperately
struggled
to get free of his assailants.
After
that he remembered nothing.
He felt a hard floor underneath him, and the coldness of the floor had
begun to seep into his bones, making them ache even more. But he didn’t know where the
floor was or what it belonged to.
He had no idea if his family knew he had been taken or even how far away
they might be or if they would even be able to rescue him.
The
thoughts of his helplessness just seemed to overwhelm him even more, and he
fell into a deep state of depression at his situation. Something about the man who had
drugged him told Joe that no matter what promises the man made, he doubted that
the man meant to return him to his family unharmed as he had said.
Joe
was trying to get his bearings, but the blindfold over his eyes made him even
more disorientated. He
started to rub his face back on forth on the hard dirt floor in an attempt to
remove the blindfold.
After
what seemed like hours, Joe managed to push the material up further on his
forehead, but he also rewarded himself with a number of scratches to his cheek
and temple area due to the rubbing action on the dirt floor.
The
cuts weren’t serious, but Joe could feel the small amount of blood
running down his face and mixing with his tears. The perspiration on his face made the
scratches sting a little.
With
the blindfold now displaced enough for him to see inside the room, Joe’s
elation at being able to see was quickly dashed by the dim and barely lit room
that he found himself in.
The
room was almost totally dark, just like it had been with his blindfold on. Joe’s attention was quickly
diverted to the doorway by the sound of the door opening and a narrow beam of
light coming into the room.
The
thing that made Joe almost jump out of his skin was the voice of the man that
stood in the doorway and was now talking to him.
“Glad
to see your finally awake, kid,” Thomas said. “Think its time to get you
out here and explain a few things to you,” he added and roughly grabbed
Joe by one arm and started dragging him towards the doorway into the other
room.
Joe
tried to stand up to avoid the man’s actions from hurting him any
further, but he couldn’t quite get his stance before feeling himself
being dragged across the hard floor. He just hoped that his pants
were made out of tough enough material to hold up to the dragging action. He dreaded to think about what the
dragging might do if the skin on his upper legs was to come into contact with
the hard ground and receive the same treatment.
Joe
now found himself being thrown into one of the rickety chairs in the larger
room. He closed his eyes
briefly as the light from a few lanterns shone into his eyes. He opened them slowly and
cautiously, allowing them to adjust to the harsh light.
The
boy was worried that he might be restrained to the chair, but for the time
being it seemed that his captors were happy enough with his hands and ankles
bound in front of him. Joe
looked around the room and knew that he needed to take in each and every inch
of the room in order to put together an escape plan.
Thomas
watched Joe for a few seconds and saw the boy’s gaze dart around the room
trying to work out where he was.
He laughed heartily at first, but then delivered a hard slap to the
boy’s face
“Don’t
even think about trying to escape kid or you will regret it,” Thomas said
only an inch from the boy’s face.
He
could see the fright in the boy’s eyes and was pleased that his mere
presence was enough to terrorise the boy into obedience. “That’s right, boy. You had better be afraid. Be very afraid. I am going to be your worst nightmare
for the next twenty- four hours.
You only have to breath wrong and I will make you pay for your
disobedience. Do you understand me, boy?” he
snarled at Joe again.
Joe
couldn’t find the words to speak as the tears ran down his face. He simply nodded as he looked up
at the man.
“What
do you want with me?” Joe finally got the courage to ask. His question was rewarded with a
blow to his stomach that caused him to double over and almost pass out. He struggled to get his breath back.
“I’ll
ask the questions, boy. You
will not speak unless I give permission.
Is that understood?” Thomas said, as he yanked Joe’s head up
by his curly hair.
“Yes,”
Joe got out between sobs and was again given a blow to the stomach that
threatened to spill him to the floor.
It was only the fact that Thomas was literally holding him upright in
the chair that prevented this.
“You’re
a slow learner, boy. I told you not
to talk until I gave you permission” Thomas repeated. “You do as you are told and
nothing else, boy. What we want you
for is not really your concern right now. You just be a good boy and when
your Pa does what I tell him, then maybe and only maybe, you’ll get to go
back to him. But if you try to
escape or don’t do as you are told, then I can promise you a lot of pain
and misery.”
Although
Joe was scared of the man towering over him, it was the laughter from the
man’s two friends that started to rile the infamous Joe Cartwright
temper. He wanted to know why
he was being treated so harshly and unjustly. He could feel the anger swelling beneath
his skin. He wanted to break free
from his bounds and make a run for it.
Maybe, if he could just get a good head start, he could make it on foot. He was known as a good runner at
school. He didn’t
know how reliable his feet would be after being bound up for so long but they
were his only asset to this point.
Thomas
had his face turned away briefly from Joe as he joined in the laughter of his
two friends at the captive in the chair.
Both of the other two men knew better than to take on Butch Thomas. The man had earned himself a
reputation, and they knew that crossing him would cause them to have a bullet
with their names on it. They had
been
promised a large pay packet at the end of this little job. All they had to do was to watch the kid
for a couple of days until his father did what Thomas wanted him to do. Then it would be all over and they could
go about their business.
Thomas
failed to see the tears dry up from Joe’s face and see anger quickly
replace them. The boy didn’t
know exactly what he was going to do, but he figured that if he could just make
it to the front door, he could make everything else up along the way.
With
Thomas’s face turned in the opposite direction, Joe saw his first
opportunity to put his plan into action. Joe silently brought his bound
feet up as high as his bounds would allow and then, without warning, he
unleashed his bound feet into the crotch of the man in front of him. The trick actually worked and Joe
was stunned into shock
for
a brief second as he saw his captive almost double over at the pain to his
groin area. Joe quickly shook
himself out of his trance and desperately tried to make it to the door and
escape outside.
Thomas
had roared at the other two men to stop Joe’s escape while he stood with
his hands protectively over his assets and waited for the pain to subside so
that he could think straight.
Joe had almost made it to the door with a hopping motion when he felt
himself being yanked roughly backwards by the two men in pursuit. He tried
desperately
to gain a hold on the handle of the door and hopefully turn it to allow his
escape. However, his attempts were
in vain. The fact that his
hands were bound together made the gasping even harder, and he missed more than
twice before being reefed backwards.
Joe
was thrown hard against the chair again, and he felt a couple of good swift
kicks to his unprotected ribs for his troubles. He moaned out loud at the pain that
erupted through his entire chest as the boots came into contact. The pain brought fresh tears to
his eyes, and it was only now, as he looked back at Butch Thomas, that he
became
truly
afraid. The man’s face had
changed from one of sneering and mockery, when he was bullying Joe, to one of
utter rage and colourless anger.
The man was beyond anger.
The other two men in the room feared that Thomas would kill the boy
right there, and then and it would be all over before they could get their
hands on any
money
from the boy’s family.
Thomas
picked the struggling boy up by the scruff of his shirt and held him at about
an arm’s length from his own body. Thomas pulled back his arm
so that Joe could see what he intended to do. Then, without warning and without
any concern for the boy’s age, he let go his hardest punch into the
boy’s stomach. The boy
doubled
over
and thought that he would be sick.
He had barely time to raise his eyes and look back at Thomas when he
felt the blows start to rain down on him.
They not only connected with his stomach this time but also with his
ribs, chest and arms and anywhere Thomas could reach without letting him
go. After a few minutes it
became obvious that the boy was unconscious due to the severity and frequency
of the blows.
Thomas
let the boy go, and Joe slumped unconscious in the chair, blood coming from a
number of fresh cuts on his chest and arms. There were already bruises starting to
form from the man’s punches.
Thomas
looked down at the kid. When the
boy had kicked him, he had had a hard time trying to comprehend the boy’s
bold moves. He had thought he had
scared the kid enough for him to be afraid. Obviously his previous warnings
hadn’t been enough. Thomas
assured himself and his young captive that the next time the kid was awake, he
would truly come to fear him.
“Leave
him where he is, but I want to know the minute he starts to come awake,”
Thomas warned as he walked outside and tried to attend to his own pains. He started to think of a way that
would scare the kid next time he was awake.
***********************************************************
Little
Joe took over an hour to awake from his unconscious state. The longer he had to wait,
the more impatient Thomas became.
He had tried to hasten the boy’s stirring by a few light kicks to
the boy’s shins, but still the boy remained unconscious.
During
this hour Thomas had devised himself a fear campaign that would ensure that the
boy would truly know the meaning of the word “fear”.
Little
Joe came back to the world very slowly. His first awareness was
pain. Every inch of him where
he had been beaten by Thomas and his men seemed to ache. Joe let out a few moans as he
tried to move. It was these pitiful moans that alerted Thomas’s
men to the boy’s coming to.
“Boss,
I think he’s coming awake,” Frank Richards shouted outside as they
continued to watch the kid struggle to move and heard him whimper with an
occasional groan of pain.
Thomas
walked into the room with loud and determined footsteps. Without even bothering to check and see
if the kid was indeed awake, he lifted Joe up by the front of his shirt and
dumped him once again harshly into the chair from earlier.
Joe
forced himself to open his eyes to see his assailant. He immediately regretted it as he
came face to face with the angry Butch Thomas. He recoiled a little and tried to push
himself further back into the chair as if trying to get out of the man’s
reach.
“So
you think you’re pretty clever, don’t you, kid?” Thomas spat
at him. “Well, I am
going to make you regret the day you ever met me. I don’t take nicely to
anyone making fun of me. I
guess you need to learn a few lessons the hard way, boy.”
“Start
making that noose, Danny,” Thomas said to the younger kidnapper in the
room. The young blond man scrambled
into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a length of coarse rope and began
fashioning a hangman’s loop on one end of it. He made sure that he held it out in full
view for the kid to see, just to scare him that little bit more.
Thomas
looked at Joe watching the loop and could see the fear rising within the young
man at what might happen. He
smiled to himself as he knew that he was gradually winning the upper hand. “You think you’re
afraid now, kid,” Thomas said, as he shook the kid roughly in the
chair.
He
pulled the kid closer just to emphasize his next sentence. “Trust me, you haven’t even
begun to know what ‘afraid’ is yet, boy. I want you to fear me more
than any other man you have ever come across. I want to become so much a part of your
fear that you have nightmares about me when you sleep. I want you to see my face when
you’re awake in the middle of the night, screaming. I will become such a part of your
fear that after a while you won’t know the difference between
what’s real and what’s not any more.”
Joe
tried to divert his eyes from the man’s face as he spoke to him, but
something prevented it. The
man’s words instilled fear that was so overwhelming. He tried to struggle within the
man’s grasp to get away, but he only succeeded in receiving a few more forceful slaps
to his face.
Joe
could no longer hide the tears that welled up in his eyes. He just wanted to go home. He wanted this all to be a bad dream and
wake up soon in the safety of his own home, with his father’s arms
wrapped securely around him and keeping him safe. Another slap to his face
alerted him to the fact that this was actually a bad dream, but a real one that
he was living through every minute of.
“Its
ready, Boss,” Danny Griffiths said, as he held up his handiwork for
Thomas to approve.
Joe
could see that Griffiths had turned the coarse length of rope into a
cruel-looking noose. The hairs on
the back of his neck began to rise at the thoughts of what may lay in store for
him at the hands of this brutal man named Butch Thomas.
“Now,
boy, we see if we can’t knock some of that fight out of you,” Thomas said, as he now reached down
towards Joe again and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
Thomas
now used his grip on Joe’s shirt to lift the struggling boy out of his
chair into a standing position.
Joe tried to get his shirt free from the iron grip, but he didn’t
have much of a chance with his ankles still lashed together and his wrists tied together in
front of him.
Joe
had thought for some reason that Thomas intended to dish out a few more of the
painful blows that he had incurred earlier, but his blood almost stopped frozen
in his veins as he watched Danny throw the noose over the large supporting beam
overhead. The noose was now
suspended over the beam from a long length of similar rope and was now just
about Joe’s head.
Thomas
now jerked the boy higher up again so that he was forced to stand on the seat
of the chair. He gave a
few short slaps to the boy, as he continued to struggle and try and get away
from the man. Thomas held
Little Joe with one hand and now snaked out with his other hand and grabbed a
hold of the noose. Joe
knew what was coming and tried to shake his head back and forth to prevent the
noose from being placed over his head, but Thomas let go of Joe’s shirt
and proceeded to hold the boy’s head still by grasping a handful of his
curly hair. Once the rope was over
his head, Thomas tightened the knot so that it rested painfully against the
base of Joe’s slender young neck.
“NO,
you can’t do this, please,……..,” Joe said, as he tried
to plea for his life.
“Oh,
but I can, boy,” Thomas laughed as he noted the fear leeching out of
every pore in the boy’s skin.
“What’s more, there will be no witnesses to even say who
done it,” he added and then nodded his head towards Danny.
Danny
now secured the end of the rope around another, smaller beam that made up one
of the walls of the small shack.
As he tightened the rope, he could see the boy try and move his head in
an attempt to release the choking loop from around his neck. The boy was almost standing on
tippee toes to avoid falling from the chair and hanging himself right then.
“Please,
just let me go,” Joe said again in a pitiful-sounding voice as he fought
to keep his emotions under control in front of such hardened criminals. He knew now that Thomas was the sort of
man that wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at killing of a boy his age.
“Not
sounding so tough now, are you?” Thomas spat at the boy. He now moved away from the chair and
went and stood towards the front door of the shack. Danny and the other man now stood
a little to the right of their boss against the front wall of the house.
“Now,
boys, time for some shooting practice for the both of you,” Thomas
announced, making sure that his young captive heard every word of this
conversation. “You can
practice on the legs of that chair there,” he said, as he pointed to the
chair that Joe was standing precariously on.
Joe
could no longer hold back the tears that ran down openly over his cheeks at the
thought of how unjustly he was being treated. He had every reason to suspect that
these men were about to cause him to fall from the chair, and then, depending
on how well the noose was tied, he would die quick when the rope became taut
and snapped his neck like a chicken bone.
If he was unlucky, and the rope wasn’t so tight, he would hang
from the beam and the rope and slowly suffocate as the rope cut into his
throat, cutting off his air supply.
Joe
watched as the three men in the room drew their guns from their holsters. All three of them made sure that
the boy looked on as they pretended to check their weapons over for a few
seconds before firing them. All the
waiting just made the injustice even more harder to bear and caused the fear
inside Joe to grow infinitely.
“I’ll
take the first shot,” Thomas said to everyone in the room, and then
pointed the barrel of his gun at the front left leg of the wooden chair. The sound of the gunshot in
the room was deafening, as Thomas fired, and the three men watched with
satisfaction as the wooden leg was splintered into a dozen pieces from the
force of the bullet.
Joe
was unable to see the bullet strike the chair leg, but he felt the chair become
unstable and therefore had to adjust his standing position on the chair towards
the back to stop the chair from toppling from the front towards the floor. He
knew that he had to remain as still as possible, no matter what happened,
because if he moved to much either side or to the front of the chair, it would
fall.
The
three men were laughing out loud and congratulating Thomas on his accurate
shooting.
“Now
you, boys, I want you two to do it both together,” Thomas said
“Make it quick for the young fella,” he said, as they watched the
trembling and sobbing boy standing on the chair.
By
now, Joe’s legs felt like jelly, and he didn’t know how long he
would be able to remain upright from his fear. It was sheer willpower that was
holding him erect at this very moment and preventing his own demise.
Danny
Griffiths and Robert Pierce now aimed their guns at the rear legs of the
chair. Even a bad shot would
result in the chair collapsing from underneath its helpless young victim. Once they were both set to fire,
they looked back at Thomas and awaited his approval.
Thomas
had not raised his gun again, nor put it back in the holster at his side. He left it loose in his right hand and
nodded to the others to fire at will.
He had a different idea up his sleeve about what was to happen.
Griffiths
and Pierce both fired their weapons, and Joe felt the chair fall out from
underneath him. He could feel the
rough coarse rope around his neck slowly suffocating him and restricting his
airway. Just as he thought
blackness would close around him forever, he heard another gunshot coming from
within the room.
Thomas
had fired his own weapon a split second after the chair had collapsed and the
noose became taut around the boy’s neck. As the rope tightened, his bullet sliced
through it just above Joe’s head. Joe now found himself falling for
a brief moment. He never felt his
body hit the hard ground due to fainting from the lack of air.
Joe’s
body hit the ground with a soft thud, and the three men now gathered around the
prone form lying unconscious on the floor at their feet.
“What
do you want us to do with him now, Boss?” Pierce inquired.
“Haul
him over to the corner of the room until he comes to. Next time he’s awake I got a
different game in mind,” Thomas said with an evil grin.
“In
the meantime, I want you, Danny, to go into Virginia City and check out that
Cartwright has done what he was told and withdrawn his bid from that
contract,” Thomas now said.
“Make sure you don’t give yourself away,” he warned
finally.
Danny
Griffiths nodded his head at Thomas’s words to indicate that he knew what
was expected of him. He went over
towards his bed and grabbed the saddlebags he had stolen from Joe’s horse
and walked out the door towards his horse. He thanked himself lucky that he
wasn’t going to be around to witness whatever Thomas had in mind next
time for the kid.
He
knew better than to say anything and cross Thomas in the process, but something
about what Thomas was doing to the kid’s mind just didn’t quite sit
well with him. He
wasn’t a law-abiding man himself, but going out of one’s way to
make someone’s life a misery wasn’t something he wanted to be a part of. Once this was all over, he promised
himself that he would go out on his
own and start afresh somewhere down south of the border.
***********************************************************
Danny
Griffiths made the long arduous ride into Virginia City whilst Joe was still
unconscious on the floor of the old shack.
The other two men, Butch Thomas and Pierce, were now taking a catnap
themselves whilst they waited for their young captive to awaken.
As
Danny rode into town, the words from his boss about keeping a low profile
echoed in his mind, and he kept looking around, just to make sure that nobody
was taking particular notice of him.
For
the next hour or so he spent his time sculling a few ales at the Bucket
O’ Blood saloon. He
told himself that he needed to think up a story so that he could ask about the
lumber contract. He needed to find
out whether or not Cartwright had taken heed of his youngest son’s
abduction and withdrawn his bid as told.
After
three or four beers he had enough alcohol in him to give him a false sense of
confidence in asking about the contract.
He started riding down the street on his way to the General Store and
the small office behind it.
About
halfway down the street he spotted a local second-hand shop, which had a sign
out front offering to pay good money for second-hand goods. He looked down at his horse and
spotted the saddlebags he had taken from Joe hours ago. He really didn’t trust
Thomas into getting his fair share for the kid’s return, so he told
himself that if he was able to hock the saddlebags and make a few extra dollars
on the side for himself, Thomas would be none the wiser.
He
tied his horse to the hitching rail outside the store and grabbed the
saddlebags from his horse before walking into the store. Upon walking inside and allowing
his eyes to adjust to the darkened room, he spotted an older man on the other
side of the shop counter.
He went over to the man and dumped the saddlebags down on the wooden
counter with a loud thud.
Roy
Coffee, the Sheriff of Virginia City was out and about on one of his routine
walks around the town, just making sure that everything was in order. Truth be known, this day the subject
that was most on his mind was the abduction of Little Joe Cartwright. So far they had not been able to do
anything about searching for the boy due to the threats made on the boy’s
life if the law was involved.
Sheriff Coffee was also refraining from visiting his long-time friend
Ben at the Ponderosa as an added precaution. He was hoping that the walk around town
today would clear his mind a little and help him come up with an idea to help.
Roy
was just about to walk past the door of the second-hand store when he heard a
lot of shouting coming from inside.
He put his thoughts about the Cartwrights aside for a moment and went to
see what all the yelling was about.
“How
do I know that these belong to you?” the old man, Mr Perkins, said from
behind the counter. “You
could have gotten them from anywhere.”
“What
has it got to do whether or not they belong to me?” Griffiths now shouted
back without seeing the Sheriff enter the store. “All you gotta decide is
what you’re gonna give me for them. These here a fine quality. Not many others around like
them.”
“That’s
what makes me question the ownership of them,” Perkins retorted after
seeing the Sheriff standing there.
“That’s a fair question, don’t you think,
Sheriff?” the old man now added as he indicated the lawman standing in
the room, listening to the heated conversation.
Griffiths
turned around at the mention of the word “sheriff” and could
scarcely hide his sudden nervousness towards the new person in the room. “Hi, Sheriff,” he
said, as casually as possible whilst rubbing his mouth with the sleeve of his
shirt in an attempt to hide his true intentions.
“Howdy,
friend, Mr Perkins,” Roy said greeting each of them. It was now that Roy quickly glanced at
the saddlebags that the man was trying to sell. It was now Roy’s turn
to try and hide his gasp of shock. He had seen those particular
saddlebags a number of times before.
The fact that they had “JFC” carved into the right hand
corner also gave away who they really belonged to. Somehow, Roy knew that this man
might be just the missing link they were looking for to find Little Joe.
Danny
Griffiths was now just plain scared that he was going to be found out. The Sheriff hadn’t indicated that
he had any knowledge of the boy’s kidnapping, but that didn’t stop
Danny from thinking the worst straight away. Suddenly he found himself leaving
unmistakable tracks without even realising it. He could almost feel the walls closing
in around him with the claustaphobic-like feeling that he was experiencing.
“Listen,
you gonna buy these bags or not?” Griffiths now said through gnashed
teeth as he attempted to grab the old man by the front of his shirt. He was panicking and he knew it,
but he couldn’t help it.
“That’s
about enough,” Roy said, now grabbing a hold of Griffiths. This attempt to assault the old
man gave him enough cause to hold the man until he could figure out how to find
out what he knew about Little Joe.
“You
want to press charges against this here fellow, Mr Perkins?” Roy asked
the elderly shop keeper.
“You
bet, Sheriff. I’m not having some
ruffian walk in off the street and threaten me in my own place. You just let me know when, and I will
come and made a full statement,” Perkins said. Secretly, inside, he was just glad
to get out of the heated situation.
Had things gotten out of control without the Sheriff to step in,
anything could have happened.
“I’m
placing you under arrest for attempted assault and battery,” Roy said
with his best official-sounding voice.
“You
can’t do that,” Griffiths now spluttered as he attempted to remove
Roy’s grip from his arm “This is just something you and this old
geezer here cooked up. You got
nothin on me, Sheriff, and you know it”
“We’ll
just let you sober up a little first, and then decide the facts of the
matter,” Roy said, as he detected the smell of alcohol on the man’s
breath. “You
gonna come quietly or do I have to force you?”
“You
got nothing on me, I said,” Griffiths repeated harshly.
“Let’s
go,” Roy said, as he threw the saddlebags over his shoulder and now
pulled his pistol from its holster and used it as a gentle persuader. “Start moving.”
Griffiths
reluctantly started walking towards the door, still pleading his innocence and
unjust treatment. He somehow
needed to persuade the Sheriff that it was all a mistake and convince him to
let him go so that he could get back to the shack before Thomas heard about his
unfortunate run-in with the law.
Roy
kept his gun pointed at Griffiths while they both made the short walk to the
jailhouse. Once inside, Danny was
pushed into an empty cell and the door was locked behind him.
“Now
you just sit tight and sober up for a while,” Roy said “I’ll be back to talk to you
later about Mr Perkins,” he added. In actual fact, Roy thought
that he needed to get to the Ponderosa as quick as possible. “My deputy will be back in a
few minutes to keep an eye on you,” Sheriff Coffee warned Griffiths as he
walked back out the front door towards his horse.
Roy
saddled his horse as quickly as possible, trying not to hurry too much. He knew that he might have some valuable
information about Little Joe sitting in his jail cell, but he needed to keep a
cool head about this and take things easy until they had a little more to go
on.
Roy
mounted his horse and guided him down the street in the direction of the
Ponderosa. He knew that he was
taking an awful risk if this man didn’t have any connection with
Joe’s abduction. As he
rode, he tried to think of a plan to try and get the man to give himself away
without even knowing it.
***********************************************************
The
next time Little Joe started to come to, he was confused. He had thought that he would be
dead now. If he was dead, why
was he feeling so much pain in his arms and legs from the restraints that had been
in place for so long? The
circulation in his limbs had been constricted now for over 24 hours and they
were becoming numb from the constant ache.
Finally,
as he started to gather his thought, he realised that he must not have died
like he had thought when he felt the chair go from underneath his feet. The last feeling he had had was
the tautness of the rope around his neck cutting of his oxygen so that he was
gasping for breath to feed his starving lungs. Now, as he coughed, he felt the
harshness of his throat as a result of the rope as it had cut into his
neck. He tried to put
his other thoughts together as in his mind he watched Griffiths and Pierce
point their weapons at the chair he was standing on and casually fire at the
legs.
He
didn’t have to long to think about what had just happened, though as the
pain in his limbs caused him to moan out loud. Joe heard footsteps approach him
and he tried to feign unconsciousness once again to avoid whatever punishment
awaited him when he awoke.
His
feeble attempted failed, though, as he felt his hurting body hurled into an
upright position again, and he came face to face with his tormentor, Butch
Thomas.
“I
guess we’ll just have to try something a little different this time, huh,
kid?” Thomas said, as he blew a plume of cigar smoke into Little
Joe’s face, causing the boy to cough. His lungs and throat had already
begun to burn, and the smoke seemed to irritate them even more.
“Why
don’t you just kill me?” Joe croaked out through his sore throat
and burning lungs. His head hung
limp on top of his shoulder as his neck muscles no longer had the strength to
hold it up.
“That
would be no fun at all, kid,” Thomas said with a laugh as he heard the
boy’s weak pleas.
“Besides, I got a new game for you to play. This time you have a five to one
chance,” he said with a sarcastic grin to match his words.
Thomas
hauled Joe over towards a second rickety chair in the room. The other still lay in pieces in one of
the corners of the room as a reminder of how close Joe had come to death last
time. Joe didn’t have
the strength or even the courage to put up any sort of struggle this time. He allowed himself to be forcibly moved
wherever his captors wanted.
Pierce
stood back against the wall as before, not wanting to get involved with this
particular game at all. There was
something evil and sinister about this that made his blood run cold at the very
thought of the outcome. In fact, he
wanted very little part of this game.
Joe
was now sitting in the chair with no real interest in what was about to happen
to him. He just wanted these
men to leave him the hell alone. The tears welled up in his
eyes again, and he inwardly scolded himself for being such a big baby in front
of Thomas and Pierce again.
He
heard Thomas pull his pistol from his holster again and thought that the man
might actually take his words and shoot him right now. The next sound puzzled him,
though, as he heard Thomas first spin the barrel of the weapon and then one by
one allow the bullets to fall from each individual chamber to the hard
floor. They all landed with a
metal sounding click at they hit the floor, and Joe’s mind counted every
single one of them as they fell: One . . . Two . . . Three .
. . Four . . . Five . . .
a
little bit of a pause and a bit more of a shake from Thomas’s hand Six. Six bullets had fallen out from the
chamber.
Little
Joe now looked up at the man and wondered why he had emptied the chambers if he
meant to use the gun to kill him.
It didn’t make sense at the moment.
Thomas
could see the questions written all over Joe’s face, so he made sure that
the boy could clearly see his next few hand movements.
Thomas
now pulled the last remaining chairs in the room to within two feet from Little
Joe. He sat down first and
then bent down slightly, just enough so that he could reach the floor where the
scattered bullets now lay. He
carefully picked up one of the bullets.
He dusted it of with his shirt, and then, ever so slowly, pushed it back
into one of the chambers of his empty pistol. Once the bullet was in
place, he reset the weapon and began spinning the barrel at random intervals.
It
was only now, upon seeing the lone bullet loaded into the gun that Joe realised
that Thomas meant to play a crude game of Russian roulette. He had never seen the game played
before, but he basically knew how the game worked. He had heard stories from the ranch
hands about such a game being held in the back streets of some of the larger
cities where people were bought cheap and life meant nothing.
Thomas
looked up with a gleam in his eyes.
He could see that the boy had the general jist of what the game was all
about. “Like I
said, kid, you have a five to one chance,” he started to explain to the
tense boy in front of him.
“I’ll
spin the barrel first and fire. If
the chamber is empty, you live.
If not, then we won’t have to worry about you having a turn then,
will we. If you live, then
you’ll get to spin the chamber once.
And so on and so forth until your luck decides to win out.”
“Shall
we get started?” Thomas asked his captive.
“Do
I have a choice?” Joe accused him with some of his anger from earlier
returning.
“I’m
afraid not,” Thomas said. Joe
had no time to give a smart reply as he felt the barrel of the weapon forced
roughly against his left temple. He
could feel the cold hard steel against his skin. It was almost as if the throb in his
temple matched the beating of his heart.
He had all sorts of thoughts coming at him at once. It was almost getting too
loud to think. When Joe heard
the spin of the barrel, though, all thoughts seemed to instantly
disappear. He swallowed hard
despite his raw throat as he realised that his life could be ending right hear
and now.
Thomas
put his hand on the trigger, but he wanted his victim to sweat just that little
bit more. Every movement he made
was as slow as he could make it.
He wanted the whole process drawn out for as long as possible. As the barrel spun, Joe’s
mind was trying to hear if the chambers were hollow or not as they went
past. He thought that he had
counted four empty ones, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.
Thomas
started to squeeze the trigger ever so gently with his index finger. Joe was trying to look sideways to
see the gun, but his vision wouldn’t quite allow for that angle. He felt his pulse become
more rapid, and his palms became more sweaty with each passing second.
“Say
your prayers, kid,” Thomas said “This might be the last time you
take a breath,” he said, as he pushed the barrel of the gun harder
against Joe’s temple.
Joe
didn’t know how much time had passed from Thomas finally managed to fully
squeeze the trigger. He did know,
however, that for that fleeting minute, his own heart beat actually stopped
from the fear that ran through him like a raging river. Joe was waiting for that final rushing
sound that would indicate that Thomas’s spin had been wrong.
“Click,”
the weapon said, as the chamber came up hollow. There had been no bullet
this time.
Thomas
smiled as he heard the sound and watched the boy’s face turn from one of
absolute terror to one of deathly white.
The boy looked as though he was ready to pass out any second. The kid
had won this time, but Thomas had a plan up his sleeve for the next round.
“I
guess you lucked out this time, kid,” Thomas said in a calm voice. “Let’s see if it is as
good this time. I want you to spin
the barrel this time.”
Joe
was almost too busy getting his lungs breathing again after the last attempt to
heed the man’s words. It
wasn’t until he felt the barrel of the gun being painfully forced against
his head that he heard Thomas’s threats to spin the barrel himself this time.
Joe
didn’t want to do this, but he knew he had very little choice. He reached up to the gun with his hands
still tied together. Even that
effort was painful as his tired muscles protested at the movement.
With
a shaking hand, his fingertips only just touched the barrel of Thomas’s
gun. The first attempt they
missed making the barrel spin.
Thomas now barked a second and final warning at Joe, and the boy once
again painfully reached up to the barrel of the gun. At least this time he was able to get
the barrel to spin some. It
wasn’t a very determined effort, and he didn’t have much faith that
he had avoided his own execution.
Joe
closed his eyes this time as he hands fell back limply into his lap and he
waited for Thomas to put him out of his misery and squeeze the trigger
again. He knew that he lacked the
courage and strength to pull the trigger himself, no matter what threats Thomas
made to him.
Joe
could feel the wetness of his own tears as they slid down his face once
more. He was hurting and
tired and didn’t really have any thoughts. He tried to fill his mind with his
family one last time in case this really was the last time. He tried to see his brothers, but due to
the pounding in his head their images seemed distant and far away in his
mind. He desperately tried to
see his father’s face one last time.
He
didn’t know if he would have the chance to say goodbye in real life, so
he had to try and say it now.
But his father’s image although closer seemed little more than a
shadow to him at the moment.
He
saw a stronger image in his mind, but that scared him even more into thinking
these maybe were his last few minutes on this earth. He could make out the image of his
mother, Marie. She was very close
to him, and she was whispering soft encouraging words to him. Maybe this was the way it was meant to
be. Maybe she was here to
take him away from all of this torment and pain.
Butch
Thomas could see that Joe had his eyes closed at the moment. He took this opportunity to put his
alternative idea into place.
He really had no real need to keep the kid alive, but he would have to
wait until he got the word from Danny about the lumber contract. When Griffiths got back, they could
depart the dismal run-down shack and do away with the kid then. For now, his only real intentions were
to scare the boy.
Thomas
motioned for Pierce to give him his gun. Pierce walked over silently and
handed the gun to him, wondering what Thomas intended to do with it. Thomas now had two weapons in his
hands. One was still seemingly
playing the game and was pressed firmly against the boy’s left
temple. The other one he put in his
left hand and brought back over his shoulder behind the boy’s head.
Thomas
once again took his time squeezing the trigger, but this time he stopped just
at the last minute before the chamber clicked into place. The boy seemed to be dreaming and
lost in his own misery long enough not to notice what was going on around
him. As the chamber locked
into place, Thomas brought the butt of the second weapon down onto the back of
Little Joe’s unprotected head.
Joe
wasn’t sure what he heard, but there was a bright flash of light in his
head and then a deafening sound that seemed to be getting louder and
louder. It was only a second
later that he fell unconscious in the chair from the blow. There was a small laceration to the back
of his head with some bleeding, but not enough to get overly concerned about.
Pierce
inwardly sighed in relief as he saw his boss strike the boy unconscious rather
than shoot him.
“You sure had him fooled, Boss,” he said with a false
grin. “What you gonna do with
him now?” he asked.
“Nothing
for now. Wait for that fool
Griffiths to get back from Virginia City, and then we get the boy’s daddy
to deliver a few extra dollars nearby and then scoot before anybody suspects a
thing.” Thomas explained.
“Throw him in that backroom for a while and be sure to put a cup
of water in there for when he wakes up later. We don’t want the kid dying on us
before we get our hands on the money.”
Pierce
did as he was told and unceremoniously threw Little Joe’s limp body over
his broad shoulders like a sack of grain. He was a little bit more gentle when
laying the kid down in the room out of the sight of Thomas. He went back into the main living
room and found an unused tin cup.
He
filled the cup from one of the canteens nearby and set it down beside the
unconscious youth and then locked the door behind him. The kid would be caught before he
could make any escape out the door.
And the shape the kid was in right now, it didn’t look as though
he would be moving about in a hurry, anyway.
Thomas
and Pierce didn’t expect Griffiths to get back from Virginia City much
before morning, so they both decided to roll themselves up in their bedrolls
and get some sleep. There
wasn’t much else to do around there.
***********************************************************
Back
at the Ponderosa, Sheriff Roy Coffee was hitching his horse to the railing
outside the house. He walked
up to the front door and knocked.
His thoughts were on what the family what might think when they saw him.
Inside,
Ben and his boys were all sitting down in the living room trying to think of
somewhere else to search for the missing Cartwright. Adam and Hoss had taken off in opposite
directions earlier this morning, but had come back without any clues. The cloud of depression had started to
descend upon them all.
Adam
got up to the knock at the door.
They all wondered who could have been calling to the house so late in
the day. He opened the door,
but could scarcely hold back his gasp of shock at who the visitor actually was.
“Sheriff
Coffee,” he said aloud to warn his father and brother of who exactly was
knocking at the door. He
didn’t really need to, though, as Ben had gotten up shortly after Adam,
also curious as to who was at the front door.
“Roy,
you can’t be here. Somebody
might be watching you,” Ben said in alarm as he hurriedly yanked the
lawman into the house. He had taken
a brief second to look around out in the yard to see if he could see anybody
watching. He assumed, though,
that if somebody was watching, they were probably well hidden out of sight.
After
Roy had regained his balance, he was quick to dispel the fears of the three
eldest Cartwrights. “Hold your horses, Ben. You know I wouldn’t come out here unless I had a good
reason. I know I took an awful risk
with Little Joe’s life when I rode out here this evening, but I believe I
have just arrested somebody who might be able to give us some information on
where they are holding Joe.”
Ben
stood back looking at Roy for a minute, trying to decide if his explanation was
good enough. “Sorry, Roy,
I’m just at my wits end as to how to get Joseph back safe,” Ben now
said, as his shoulders once again slumped with exhaustion from the long
sleepless night and worry that had plagued them all.
“I
know you are, Ben, I can see you are all a little worse for wear. If you just sit down and let me explain,
I think we might have the first signs of a breakthrough,” Roy said, as
all of them moved to the living room to hear his story. All of the Cartwrights as well as
Roy knew that behind the kitchen door there was another silent audience member
listening to everything that they said.
“You
better tell us, Roy, before we all burst,” Hoss said trying to put a
little humour into the conversation.
Lord knows the house had been devoid of any kind of laughter or gaiety
since Joe’s abduction.
“I
was just walking down the main street of town when I heard an argument going on
in Mr Perkins’s second-hand shop. I went in and stood behind a
youngish fella. Looked like a
stranger to these here parts.
Anyways, he was trying to sell some saddlebags to Mr Perkins. Was asking a mighty high price for them,
too,” Roy said, as he continued with his story.
Ben
was getting a little impatient and wanted to know when the idea about rescuing
his son was coming up.
“What’s so darn important about them saddlebags Roy, we need
to find Joe,” Ben said, putting his hands to his head to ward off the
headache he could feel coming on from all the stress.
“I’m
coming to that, Ben,” Roy said calmly. He could see that his old friend just
wanted his youngest boy home again safe and sound. “The saddlebags are important
because I recognised who they belong to. Down on the right bottom corner
they had three initials carved into the leather.” He knew, by the time he finished this
part of the sentence, that he had everybody’s attention. They all held their breath as they
waited for the confirmation of their unspoken thoughts.
He
looked at the three faces and knew that they all wanted to know the answer
desperately. “The initials
were ‘J.F.C.’ he said and left it at that.
“Where
is this man now, Roy?” Ben demanded almost jumping out of his chair with
anticipation.
“He’s
in my jail cell at the moment, Ben,” Roy answered.
“Well,
we will just go down there and beat him until he tells us what we want to
know,” Hoss said determinedly.
He was more than ready to make this fellow talk and tell the family
where his baby brother was being held against his will.
“No,
Hoss, I think that’s exactly the opposite of what we want to
do,” Roy now said. “Normally I wouldn’t
hesitate in getting the man to speak, but if we scare him and he clams up he
might never tell us where Little Joe is being held. At the moment he is the only clue we
have to go on.”
“What
do you propose we do then, Roy?” Adam asked, sensing that Roy had already
thought of an idea before he came out to the house.
“If
its alright with you, Ben, my idea is to go back into town and let this fella
go-- “ That was all Roy could
manage to get out before he was barraged by both Hoss and Ben.
“LET
HIM GO!” they exclaimed, almost in unison with disbelief in their
voices. “How can
you even think of letting him go Roy?” Hoss now shouted.
“Now
wait just a cotton pickin’ minute, you two. Hold on there, you two, before I leave you
out of this rescue plan,” Roy said with a hint of a smirk. He got the instant reaction he was
looking for when both men stopped speaking and allowed him to explain his idea.
“Like
I was saying before I was interrupted,” Roy said with emphasis.
“If
we let him go, then we can follow him back to the place where they are holding
Joe,” he suggested.
“He
might lead us to the rest of his gang,” Adam now said, as he worked out
Roy’s plan in his own mind.
He had to admit that the idea was a pretty sharp one. He just hoped that it worked out
to their expectations. Should
anything go wrong, he feared that Joe would possibly be the one to feel the
consequences.
“That’s
my aim, Adam,” but the most important thing, of course, is that we find
Little Joe and bring him home safe and sound,” Roy replied.
“My
boys and I can be ready to ride in an hour, Roy,” Ben stated firmly. He wanted to waste little time when he
knew they could be out searching for his missing youngest son.
“I
know you’re anxious to get going, Ben, but we have to give the fellow a
little bit of a head start.
If we don’t, then we might make the mistake of letting him know
that he is being followed. He might
not lead us to Little Joe at all after that. I will head back into town now and let
the fella go. I will meet you
and your boys outside my jailhouse at sun-up. Hopefully, with the muddy roads, his
tracks should be easy enough for Hoss to track,” Roy said, as he looked
to the big man with pleading eyes.
Anybody
that was familiar with the Cartwright family knew that Hoss had this uncanny
ability to hunt down almost anything or anybody even without much of a
trail. Roy was just hoping that the
rain-soaked roads would aid in their search for the missing boy. Heaven knew what condition the boy
was being kept in. He had been
missing for two whole days now.
“I
hope this idea of yours works, Roy,” Ben said, as the two men got up and
shook hands. Roy headed for the
door. “I truly hope so too,
Ben,” he answered.
“See
you at sunrise,” Ben added as he tried to work out in his head what they
would need for the next day ahead.
Trying to put his mind to work on their supplies was the only way he
could stop thinking about all of the things that might go wrong with
Roy’s plan. Everything seemed
to hinge on somebody that they hadn’t even heard of or met yet. He was putting his son’s life in
the hands of a stranger, and that
didn’t sit very comfortably with him at the moment. They had very little choice in the
matter, however.
***********************************************************
Roy
rode back into Virginia City to put the beginning of the risky plan into
effect. He too thought, like Ben,
that everything came down to the man being currently being held in his cells to
lead them to the missing boy.
He just hoped for Ben’s and Joe’s brothers’ sakes that
Joe would be found safe and sound.
He couldn’t even contemplate how Ben would go on living without
the one person who keep him young at heart.
The
Sheriff tied his horse to the railing outside and walked into the
jailhouse. He could see his
Deputy seated at the desk in the main part of the jailhouse. The cells were on the other side
of a closed door. Roy took
off his hat and placed it on the peg mounted on the wall for just that
purpose. He gave a curt nod to his
Deputy and opened the door to the cells.
“How
you doing, fella?” Roy asked trying to act as casually as he could. Inside, his stomach was twisting and
turning into huge knots about what he was about to do.
“How
do you reckon I’m doing, cooped up in this God forsaken jail house of
yours?” came the reply full of spite.
“Well now, I was going to tell you about a change in events that might
just see you walk out of here, but if you are going to be nothing by snarly,
maybe you don’t want to hear what I’ve got to say,” Roy said,
trying to bluff his way through the conversation.
There
was silence from the prisoner himself but a look of doubtfulness and confusion
was written all over Danny’s face as he wondered what the Sheriff was
getting at.
Roy
thought that the silence was a signal for him to continue with his
explanation. “Seems Mr
Perkins, the man from the second-hand store, has had a change of heart all of a
sudden and decided not to press any charges against you. I can’t say as I am happy about
it, but there don’t seem to be much else to be holding you in here on, so
for the moment you are free to go.” Roy said officially.
“You’re
kidding, right?” Danny said, trying to work out if the Sheriff was really
telling him that he was free to go.
“No,
I’m not, but you listen here young fella, I want you saddled and on your
horse in less than fifteen minutes when I set you free from this cell, or
otherwise I will find something to hold you on. You understand me?” Roy said
sternly.
“Yes,
Sheriff, I understand,” Danny said.
Roy unlocked the cell door and swung it open for the former prisoner to
walk out. “Can I have
my saddlebags back, Sheriff?” Danny asked.
“Get
out of here!” was Roy’s response to the question. He knew that if they did manage to find
Little Joe, the rightful owner of the saddlebags would indeed be looking to
have them back.
Danny
did as he was told and quickly walked from the jail cell. He could hear Roy’s warnings
to be out within the hour as he walked down the street. Although it was now in the dead of
night, the horse that he had rode into town on was still hitched outside the
saloon where he had enjoyed his beers before heading down the street to the
second-hand store.
As
he walked the horse out of town, he made sure that he rode directly past the
jailhouse so as to alert the Sheriff to his doing what was asked of him. He knew that there was a long ride
ahead, but he was in no particular rush.
If all went well, he should be back to the shack before lunch time. He had six hours to try and come up with
an excuse for Butch Thomas to why he was so late in getting back. He was confident that he would find
something to tell him.
Griffiths
was aware that he was being watched as he rode out of Virginia City. He just was unaware how long the Sheriff
kept his eyes on him and noted the direction of his travel. It would only be two hours until Ben and
his boys would turn up. Hopefully
that would be enough of a head start without losing track of him altogether.
***********************************************************
Back
at the abandoned shack, Little Joe was beginning to regain consciousness after
the pistol incident with Butch Thomas.
At first he wondered if he was dead and if this was what happened after
death. However, the pain that
echoed in his head, however, soon brought him back down to earth and reminded
him of his predicament.
If
his body had hurt before, then it now was beyond hurting. He tried to move slowly and in small
increments, but even these minor movements caused great waves of pain to swirl
around in his head. The
muscles in his legs and arms had not eased any, either, but at the moment, with
the agonising pain that he felt in his head, the aches from his limbs paled
into insignificance. Each
time he attempted to lift his head from the floor he was greeted by the feeling
that his head was about to explode.
It
took almost half an hour for him to gather his thoughts enough through the pain
to work out where he was. He
finally assumed that he was back in the room he had been dumped in when they
first arrived. He didn’t have
the gag in his mouth his time. At
least that was a plus. There
weren’t too many things to be thankful for a the moment.
The
room was particularly dark, another thing that would have caused shivers to him
in any other situation, but for the moment he knew that if he was to survive
this terrible ordeal, he would need to forget all about his fear.
His
eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and enabled him to make out the dark
shadows within the room. He
could make out that there was very little, if any, furniture in the room. He couldn’t see any light
coming into the room that would suggest the presence of a window or such. His hands were still tied
together in front of him and his feet were also bound.
With
a monumental effort, he managed to pull his screaming muscles and body into a
sitting position. He was
light-headed from the ferocious headache and had to allow the dizziness to pass
before gathering his thoughts again.
He started to pull and tug at the ropes around his ankles. They were tied very tight and he
didn’t know if he had the strength to loosen them at all.
The
pain he was feeling from both his head and body made him want to cry out;
however he made sure that each moan and groan was suppressed by his clenched
teeth and between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He knew that he couldn’t afford to
alert the men in the other room to the fact that he was conscious again. At one point he thought he heard one of
them moving around. He had held his
breath for a good half a minute or so until he thought it was safe again to
continue.
His
fingers ached from his efforts to loosen the ropes and from the rough fibres of
the rope rubbed painfully against the insides of his wrists, as he desperately
tried to set his feet free.
If he could only get his feet untied, he might actually stand some sort
of a chance to escape. He doubted
that he would be able to get very far with them still tied together.
After
what seemed like hours, his efforts were rewarded by the ropes loosening enough
for him to be able to pull each foot through. He removed his shoes first, and then one
at a time, he slipped them through the loop made in the rope. Once free, he put his boots back on and
started to work on the ropes on his hands.
Those ropes seemed a little easier to stretch, probably from his efforts
to untie his feet, he assumed.
He
rubbed at his very raw and chafed hands.
Some of the skin had worn away in parts where the ropes had been
extremely tight. He saw a cup
of water just inside the room and crawled over to it. He drank the first mouthful to moisten
his dry and parched throat.
He used the vast majority of the water on his ankles and wrists to try
and put some moisture back into the raw skin. His ankles faired the best due to the long
trousers he wore. Hopefully,
they wouldn’t slow him down any if he did manage to escape.
Escape
was his next priority. He knew that
so far his luck had held out, and he had been able to get himself free before
anybody came into the room.
He didn’t want to think about what might happen to him should one
of the men from the other room walk in and find him free from his bonds.
He
started to look at the walls of the room he was locked away in and determine
what they were made of. The
shack itself, from what little he had been able to observe, seemed to have been
neglected and forgotten about over a long time. Maybe the timbers in the walls
were loose or rotten enough for him to create a means of escape.
Joe
listened carefully for any signs of the men in the other room moving about and
when he was satisfied that he was safe for the time being, he moved painfully
and silently over to the farthest corner of the room. He put his hands on the
timber and tried to find if any of the nails were loose or missing. He had thought about tapping on
the timber to try and find a hollow spot, but dared not risk it for fear of
being heard and caught.
Little
Joe put both hands onto the bottom of one of the planks of timber that made up
the wall. He sat in front of it
with his legs spread apart to act as a counterbalance. With a few short jerks and
tugs he tried breaking off the bottom part of the timber. He was in luck due to the
heaviness of the rain over the last few weeks, as the timber was still very
sodden on the outside.
To
his relief and amazement, the timber broke off fairly easily and without much
noise. He moved along to the next
plank of wood and repeated the same process. He was equally pleased when he
obtained the same result.
Due
to his slimness, it only needed four of the planks to be broken off at the
bottom for a hole to be made large enough for Joe to slither through. He had to get down on his belly
and he was covered with mud by the time he reached the outside, but he managed
to do it. He had never
felt such relief when he felt the stillness of the night upon him. His rejoicing was short-lived,
however, as he realised that he had little time to sit down and catch his
breath.
He
needed to make sure that he ran and ran hard. He needed to make sure that there was
enough distance between him and his kidnappers when they discovered his
escape. He knew that it was
only a matter of time before they checked on him and found the hole in the
wall.
He
had little idea of the terrain he was about to go through and he had little
clues to give him any sort of bearings as to where he was. At the moment, the sky was still
dark. There was a small
amount of lightening just on the horizon, signalling that the sun would make
its appearance within the next hour or so.
Without
much more hesitation, Joe decided to follow the direction in which the sun
would rise. He knew that that meant
he would be heading in an easterly direction. At the moment he cared very little
about what direction he was headed in; only he needed to get away and get away
fast.
Joe
started walking
………………………….
***********************************************************
At
the jailhouse, Sheriff Roy Coffee was just loading the last of his supplies
into the saddlesbags on his horse when he heard riders approaching from behind
him. He looked around and smiled as
he saw the ominous-looking figure of Ben Cartwright, mounted on his horse Buck,
followed by his two, also formidable looking sons Hoss and Adam on their mounts. Neither of them looked in the mood
for idle talk. They all had one
thing in mind, finding their missing Little Joe.
“Mornin’
Ben, mornin’ boys,” Roy greeted them cheerfully. He got a nodded response from Adam and
Hoss and a grunt of a hello from Ben.
“Ready
to go, Roy?” Ben asked in a no-nonsense voice
“Yep,
just as about ready as I’ll ever be,” Roy answered. “I let him go about two hours ago,
he headed west out of town. Should
be able to start following his tracks right away,” Roy said, as he now
mounted his own horse.
“Let’s
ride,” Ben announced and headed in the direction that Roy had
stated. Hoss lead the
way and picked up Danny’s easy to follow trail almost immediately. He leant over the horse as they went,
followed by Ben, Adam and Roy.
There wasn’t much conversation while they rode, and the silence
echoed as they continued on the trail.
After
about two hours or so of travelling,
Hoss stopped his horse suddenly and started to look about the
landscape. He looked as though he
was trying to get his bearings, but he was actually taking in the
surroundings. He had had an idea
about where they were heading about twenty minutes earlier, but it was only
after a few more miles and familiar looking landmarks that he was triumphantly
able to announce his discovery out loud to the rest of the search party.
“What’s
wrong, Hoss?” Ben asked, a little worried at Hoss’s sudden halt in
progress. Maybe his large son had
lost the trail, or maybe they were headed in the wrong direction.
“I
think I know where he’s headed,” Hoss said with a smile to his
father and the others.
“Are
you sure, Hoss?” Adam asked with a little disbelief in his voice. He didn’t doubt his younger
brother’s tracking ability, but he himself was not familiar with the area
that they were in.
“Yeah,
Adam, I thought I had seen some of
these trees a while back, but I wanted to make sure before I said
anything. I didn’t want to
give anybody false hopes or nothin’,” Hoss replied.
“Where
is he headed, Hoss?” Ben now enquired, barely able to contain the
anticipation.
“Well,
I can’t be one hundred percent certain, Pa, but I think this roads leads
up to Pine Valley. You know, the
place where Joe and me went camping just last week,” Hoss said.
“Well,
let’s keep at it then, shall we? Don’t want to lose too much
time,” Roy said, as he noted the amount of time that was between them and
Danny Griffiths. They needed to be
as close to the kidnappers as possible without being detected. If they got too far behind, the
kidnappers might very well move onto a different place altogether before the
search party could rescue Little Joe.
Hoss
and the others restarted down the current trail. There was a renewed sense of hope now
that they all had some sort of idea where they were headed. They all just secretly hoped that
Little Joe would be able to hold out until they could reach him.
***********************************************************
Danny
Griffiths had been riding for about three hours when Little Joe was able to
make his escape from the shack and from the cruel treatment of Butch Thomas.
Little
Joe had headed off in the direction of the sun, but had tried to remain as
close to the trees as possible to avoid being seen out in the open should
Thomas and Pierce try to track him down. He had been walking for about an
hour when Hoss and the others figured out where they were headed.
Joe
had not been travelling long enough to work out where he was yet. All the trees looked the same to him as
he forced his aching body to keep at a reasonable pace. His head was nothing short of
torturous and he found himself stopping a few times just to try and let the
pain decrease slightly before starting out again.
He
had been fortunate about half an hour ago to come across a muddy pool of
water. He had gratefully wet his mouth
with the murky-looking liquid, but had refrained from drinking too much for
fear of upsetting his empty stomach.
He hadn’t eaten in almost two days and didn’t know how even
water would react once consumed. He
couldn’t risk feeling sick on top of all the aches and pains he was
already experiencing.
Vomiting would only serve to sap what little strength he had and hold
him up further from his escape.
Joe
kept walking for the next half an hour.
Each minute saw his gait slow and become more unstable due to the
weakness in his muscles. He seemed
to be just willing himself to walk without really knowing why or where he was
headed. The throbbing pain in his
head made it difficult to think straight.
By
now the sun was up and allowed him to see the terrain in which he was
walking. He had narrowly
missed causing himself a nasty injury from a large tree root. The mud on his clothes had
now dried and caked in large patches on his shirt and pants. His hair was limp and fell in his
eyes, often making him push it back with his hand so that he could see where he
was going.
Now,
as Joe walked, he could see that he was coming upon a small stream. What he failed to note due to his
confused state of mind was that it was the same stream that he had come across
only days earlier when freeing his bear cub friend from the metal trap.
His
steps were more deliberate now, and it took all of his strength just to put one
foot in front of the other.
His energy was waning quickly, and he didn’t know how long he
could successfully hope to remain on his feet. He kept telling himself that
Butch Thomas was only a short distance behind him and that if he dared stop,
even for a moment to catch his breath, Thomas would catch up with him and he
wouldn’t be able to escape again.
Joe
could see that the stream was running as he stepped his foot into the shallow
water. He wasn’t thinking
about what the temperature might be and almost pulled his foot out in shock at the
coldness that enveloped his leg as his toes touched the wet surface. The water was cold, not freezing
but cold enough to bring him back a certain level of alertness. He knew that he didn’t have
much choice in avoiding the water.
The stream continued on in both directions for some time, and he lacked
the strength to try and find a drier crossing place further up or downstream.
The
briskness of the water made Joe’s skin come out in gooseflesh, as he took
another two steps across the narrow stream. Only three or four more steps and he
would be on dry land again, he told himself.
He
wrapped his hands around his chest tightly, trying to warm his body from the
effects of the cold water. He
started to take the next step forward.
Joe’s
booted foot came in contact with what he assumed to be the earthy and rocky
bottom of the stream. He was about
to lift his foot and take the next step when he felt something grabbing at his
ankle. It only took a few
more seconds for the pain to erupt in his ankle and travel the entire length of
his leg to his hip bone.
The
pain was so sudden and ferocious that Little Joe now found himself face down on
the muddy bank of the stream with his feet still in the water. He lifted his head slightly
from the ground. He tried to
turn around and look behind him at the watery surface, but he had to
concentrate on gritting his teeth to hold back the scream that was on his
tongue. The water around his foot
was now staining crimson and mixing with the brackish water of the stream.
Joe
gathered the last of his waning strength and tried to pull on his ankle to set
it free from its entrapment.
He could feel something sharp digging into the soft flesh, but his
addled mind told him that his foot must be wedged between two rocks on the
bottom of the stream bed.
Joe
would never remember hearing his heart-wrenching scream echo through the trees
when he tried to set his foot free.
Underneath the surface of the water, there was a terrible tearing of
flesh, followed by more blood. Joe
Cartwright fell unconscious where he lay partly submerged in the water.
A
hawk, perching in the canopy of the nearby trees, now screeched in fright at
Joe’s scream and took off in flight up into the sky. It was now the only sound to be heard as
the youngest Cartwright lay oblivious to the world around him.
Later,
when he would try to recall what he had felt at that moment, Joe would only be
able to remember how cold the water was.
Little did he realise at the time that it was the coldness of the water
that would save his life.
An
old forgotten trapper’s metal jawed trap had dug into Joe’s ankle
without mercy. It had
lain undisturbed and rusty in its watery grave, waiting for an unsuspecting
animal or person.
***********************************************************
Ben
and the search party had not heard Joe’s cries of anguish at the pain
left behind from the rusty trap hidden in the stream, but like his son, over
the last hour or so, his heart had been growing heavier and heavier with worry of finding his youngest son alive
and safe.
Their
hearts had soared with Hoss’s recognition of the local landscape, and
they had thought to be on the right track.
But now, after miles and
miles of nothing but trees and rocks, their earlier hope was waning with every
stride of the horses.
Sheriff
Roy Coffee had become increasingly worried over the last few miles, but he rode
in silence, not wanting to unduly alarm the Cartwrights about what he feared
might be happening.
He now made the decision that he couldn’t keep those fears from
them any longer. They would have to
make a bold move or risk losing the trail left by Danny Griffiths.
Roy
brought his horse to a pause again and seemed to be surveying the tracks left
behind by Griffiths’s horse when Adam and Ben came up behind him. Hoss had been travelling ahead of Roy
and now turned around to see why the others had stopped.
“Ben,
I think we have got trouble,” Roy said throwing caution to the wind and
not sugar-coating the problem.
“What
is it, Roy?” Ben asked with a little dread in his words.
“I
think this fellow knows he is being followed,” Roy answered and pointed
the tracks on the ground. The
long-serving lawman had noticed
over the last ten miles or so that Griffiths’s looked to be
deliberately changing the gait of his horse constantly, altering the tracks
that were left behind for the search party to follow.
“Do
you think he’s on to us?” Adam now asked, worried that they would
lose their hope of finding Little Joe. “Yes, I do,” Roy
replied. “See those
tracks? He’s trying to make
them so they can’t be followed,” he added.
“What
do you think we should do?” Ben asked, hoping that the suggestion
wouldn’t be to lose any more time and allow Griffiths’s to get
further ahead. Ben didn’t
want to waste any more time than necessary. They didn’t even know how Joe had
been treated up until now. He could
be desperately waiting for his family to come and find him right this minute.
Roy
could see the anxiousness on Ben’s face, and he knew that his old friend
did not want to wait things out. He
knew he had to come up with another solution to their sticky situation. “I think we should split up,”
Roy announced after thinking deeply for a few more seconds.
“You
and Hoss head in that direction, Ben,” Roy explained as he held out his
hand and pointed in a northerly direction. “Adam and I will keep going
along this road. That way he
won’t be able to double back on us and get away.”
Ben
looked further up the road that they had been travelling in and then looked in
the direction that Roy had pointed to.
“Fine, Roy, but please be very careful. Fire two shots in the air if you find
anything,” he said, trying to stress the “anything”
part.
Adam
had nodded his agreement to the alteration in plans and now watched in silence
as his father and younger brother Hoss headed off in a different
direction. He knew that
Roy meant for the pair of them to wait a little longer before proceeding. Adam knew that Roy was doing his best
not to upset Ben by wanting to delay their progress any further.
***********************************************************
Danny
Griffiths was still a little way in front of Adam and the Sheriff, and although
he couldn’t see anybody when he looked behind him, the wind made the hair on the back of
his neck stand up and his gut warned him that there was something out
there. He didn’t know
what it was, but he spurred his horse into a gallop and picked up the pace
dramatically. It
shouldn’t be too long now before he was back at the shack where Butch and
Pierce were held up with the kid.
Roy
and Adam tried to let as much time pass as possible before restarting their
ride. After only ten minutes,
however, they both gave each other a certain look and quickly mounted their
horses and started out again.
Although they had been trying to let Griffiths get a little further
ahead, that same sense of warning made them start to canter their horses a
little faster as well.
Griffiths
could see the old shack in front of him.
He never thought that he would be glad to see such a run-down
place. As he got closer
though, his curiosity started to rise again. Something was wrong. He dismounted and left the
horse to wander loose for a minute in his haste to open the door and work out
why the place was so eerily quiet.
Maybe they were all sleeping.
Griffiths
turned the knob on the door, but got a very hollow-sounding reply as the door
swung open and exposed the now vacant shack. Thomas’s and
Pierce’s horses had been tied up out back when he left, so he
wasn’t overly concerned when he didn’t see the horses as he rode
up. His heart began
racing now, however, when he couldn’t find anybody inside.
It
had been about two hours after Joe’s escape that Butch Thomas and Robert Pierce
discovered their little captive gone from his prison. Thomas had roared with anger when
he had spied the broken planks of wood in the corner of the room. He had shouted and vowed to grab a
hold of the kid when he found him and shake the living daylights
out
of him.
The
two had made a quick and not very diligent search for the kid outside, but it
soon became apparent that he had been gone for some time and that they
weren’t likely to find him in a hurry. They both had thought that he was too scared
of Thomas and too injured to try something as daring as an escape. Their minds started to wander now
as to what might happen if the kid did make it back to civilisation and told
people about the men who had kidnapped him.
Thomas
wasn’t overly worried about being caught. He was livid to think that a scrawny,
bag of bones kid had gotten the best of him and escaped. He was equally as sure, though, that the
kid would be dead soon, anyway.
The kid was not likely to be able to walk the number of miles to find
help with no food or water and very little sleep over the last two days.
He
told himself that he would hang low for a week or so, just until the dust about
the kid’s death settled in Virginia City. That way he could then just turn up in
town and talk to Henry Williams about what happened without any fear of being
blamed for the kid’s disappearance or death.
Robert
Pierce, however, was just plain scared about being caught. He didn’t have the cockiness that
Thomas openly displayed, and he started to feel nervous about the mere mention
of the kid being found dead along the roadway.
Within
twenty minutes, Pierce had his bedroll and few meagre possessions packed up and
secured on his horse. He rode
away from Thomas, headed for New Mexico, telling himself that he would be
better going someplace new like he wanted to. He could make a new start and
forget all about Butch Thomas and the Cartwright kid.
It
wasn’t too long after Pierce that
Thomas himself rode out.
He didn’t even give Danny Griffiths another thought about
returning from Virginia City. It made little difference now considering the
lumber contract because his ace was now out of his grasp. He promised himself a week of
drinking and relaxing in Carson City before returning to collect the rest of
his money from Henry Williams.
After
all, he had fulfilled his part of the deal and kept the kid as the bargaining
chip as arranged. It wasn’t
his fault if the kid got away and then dropped dead out in the woods. The money still rightfully
belonged to him. He was just damned
mad that the kid had gotten the better of him.
Griffiths
had lost track of time whilst standing in the doorway, trying to figure out
where his two partners had gotten to with their hostage. He heard a noise behind him and assumed
it to be one of them. He was badly
mistaken as he felt himself driven up against the wall of the shack by a large
fist.
“Where
is my little brother?” a very ominous-looking Adam Cartwright
demanded. He held Griffiths
with his left hand and held his right out in a clenched fist as a warning of
what was to come should he be given the wrong answer.
“Now,
now, Adam” Roy said, as he tried to prevent the eldest Cartwright from
doing something he might regret later.
”I know you’re worried about Little Joe, but we have to do
things properly,” he said and then turned back towards the cringing
Griffiths.
“Mister,
you got about thirty seconds to tell us where Little Joe Cartwright is before I
let this man do what he is threatening,” Roy now growled at the man. Adam couldn’t help but smirk
at Roy’s remark.
“I
don’t know where the kid is, honest, Mister,” Danny said in a meek
voice. “I just got here
before you and the place was empty.”
“Where
are your friends?” Roy asked, trying to get some information on the other
kidnappers. “I would be
better for you if you co-operate.
The judge might decide to go easier on you,” Roy said, guessing
that the man had just unwittingly dobbed himself into being involved in Little
Joe’s abduction.
“Judge,
what judge? You haven’t got
anything on me, Sheriff. You said I
was free to go back in Virginia City. You said that the old guy had
dropped the charges,” Griffiths said, a little sarcasm creeping into his
voice.
“That’s
what I said about Mr Perkins alright.
I don’t believe I said anything about you being in trouble over a
kid. Now what kid would you be
talking about?” Roy asked, still acting dumb. He could see another smile
creep over Adam’s lips as he realised what game the Sheriff was playing.
“Kid,
did I say kid?” Griffiths now said trying to change his story halfway
through. He knew that he had
incriminated himself.
“You
don’t have to say anything to me at all, mister,” Roy now calmly
said. “Those saddlebags you
tried to sell back in Virginia City give me all the proof I need. Those bags belong to Little Joe. The only way you would have them was if
you took them from Joe. I think you
know more about Joe’s disappearance than you’re telling us.”
“Adam,
would you kindly escort this man to
his horse. Make sure his hands are
secured behind his back, too.
I believe you and me have a prisoner to escort back to Virginia
City,” Roy said.
“I
want to look around before we head back, Roy,” Adam said, as he started
to glance around the run-down shack.
Roy now took a grip on Griffiths to prevent him getting away. This allowed Adam to make sure that the
place was deserted. Adam was now
feeling a little helpless. He had
expected to find Joe and his kidnappers upon finding Griffiths, but now, as he
looked around the empty rooms, he didn’t know where to start looking for
his missing brother. What was he
going to tell his father?
Adam
could see the missing boards in the room Joe had been kept in. They meant little to him because
he failed to realise that the broken bits of timber signalled the escape route
of Little Joe. Adam lightly
kicked the pieces of broken wood and left the room to got back to the front of
the shack.
“If
I were you, I wouldn’t worry about looking for your brother in
here,” Griffiths said with a laugh.
“If I were you, I would be looking for a hole outside that
he’s buried in,” he scorned.
Adam calmly walked over to the man and without warning struck him hard
in the stomach with his fist. Roy
did not bother to stop Adam inflicting the blow. He secretly wished he could have given
Griffiths one himself for making a comment like that about someone he cared
for.
Adam
and Roy were soon mounted and ready to start the journey back to Virginia City
with their unwilling prisoner when they heard two distinct gunshots fired into
the air. This was the one signal
that they had been praying to hear since starting the search.
Adam
gave a quick look that held the question towards the Sheriff. Roy smiled briefly and knew that he
would be making the journey back with Griffiths alone. “Go on,” Roy
said simply and watched as Adam kicked his horse into a gallop and rode towards
the sound of the gunshots.
Adam didn’t know how far away his father and brother were when
they fired the shots, but he could only hope that they had found Little Joe.
***********************************************************
As
luck would turn out for Ben and
Hoss, the trail that they had chosen almost by accident would lead them in the
same direction that Hoss and Joe had travelled from Pine Valley.
Hoss
had suspected as much quite some time ago and voiced his thoughts to the
others, but now that he and his father were separated from Adam and the
Sheriff, he started voice his recognition of the local area again.
“This
is the same road that Joe and me came on when we went camping last week,
I’m sure of it,” Hoss announced to Ben. These few words were the first spoken
between the two men for quite a few miles.
Both were lost deep in thought about whether they were making the right
decision to take this different trail.
“Maybe
we are headed in the wrong direction, then,” Ben said. “Why would Joe be way out
here again? We don’t
have the slightest idea that this is the right way to be going. We could be getting further and further
away from Joe,” Ben said with frustration starting to creep into his
voice.
“Don’t
worry, Pa, we’ll find him soon,” Hoss said trying to give Ben some
sort of hope to cling to. Deep down
he had the same fears as his
father, though.
“Hey
Pa, this is were we were camped that night,” Hoss said, as they reached
the bottom of a hill. He knew that
over the other side there was the small stream that had run beside their
campsite. It had also been the same
stream that the little bear cub had fallen victim to that long-forgotten metal
trap hidden on the muddy edge of the bank.
Hoss
and Ben then rode up the slight slope in the road and were about to ride down
the other side when they suddenly stopped on the crest of the hill and tried to
take in the sight that lay before them.
Ben
was certain that his heart stopped beating when he spotted the pathetic and
thin-looking creature lying partly in the water of the stream and partly on the
muddy bank. He willed his
body to move so as to get as quick as he could, but his muscles wouldn’t
obey his brain. He scarcely
recognized the pale unconscious form of his youngest son that lay
unmoving. He even opened his
mouth to try and shout the boy’s name, but the sound of his voice was
taken away with the air from his lungs.
Hoss
had stood frozen to the spot much as his father was. Now he fought hard to hold back the
tears he felt welling up in his eyes as he looked upon the sight of his brother
lying in the stream. When he
finally came to his senses and just before he made the desperate dash to catch
up with his father, Hoss took his pistol from its holster and fired the two
important signalling shots into the sky to alert the Sheriff and Adam that they
had found Little Joe. He
couldn’t be sure now how far away Adam was, but he knew that they would
all be needed to help get their brother home safe.
Ben
had already started to run, and he jumped slightly at the sound of the gun
going off. It only delayed his pace
for a short second as he ran towards Little Joe.
Ben
reached his fallen son and suddenly found his voice and began whispering the
boy’s name in vain to try and get a response from him. As he tried to rouse the unconscious
boy, his eyes were scanning over his body, trying to see any visible signs of
injury. The boy looked
painfully thin and had his shirt was now torn almost to shreds.
The
thing that worried Ben mostly, apart from the unconsciousness, was the coldness
of Joe’s skin. Whilst it was only his feet submerged in
the water, his whole body trembled as Ben lay a gentle hand on his back. The flesh was cold to the touch.
“Is
he alright, Pa?” Hoss said knowing full well that his question sounded
stupid even before he uttering it.
“I
don’t know, Hoss,” Ben answered softly whilst continuing to check
his son over for signs of injury.
“He’s just so darned cold. Go and get your bedroll Hoss,
quick. We have to get him out of
this water and get him warmed up.
His skin is freezing cold.”
Hoss
turned and raced back to his horse for the warm blankets, tied to the back of
Chubb. While Hoss went back
to the horses, Ben tried to pull his unconscious son out of the cold water of
the stream. This was when the
problems really began.
Ben,
unaware of the trap that encircled his son’s ankle below the water line,
gently placed his hands underneath Joe’s arms and with short deliberate
tugs, tried to drag his sodden son from the muddy water.
Up
until now, Joe had been completely oblivious to his father and brother’s
presence. As soon as
his father tried to pull him from the water, though, the jaws of the metal trap
bit deeper into his ankle, causing him to awaken to a semi-conscious state and scream
hideously at the pain that plagued his body.
Ben
immediately stopped at the sound of his son’s scream. He knew that he was hurting the
boy. He tried to calm the boy and
now stepped into the cold water himself and tried to lift the boy out without
hurting him further.
He
tried to put his hands underneath the boy’s knees and shoulders and lift
him out, but as soon as he pulled the boy more than a few inches, the chain
that held the trap to the bottom of the stream became taut.
Once
again the jaws bit into the softened flesh of Joe’s ankle and caused
fresh bleeding and pain. Joe
screamed out in agony again as fire and ice seemed to coarse through his veins. Ice from the coldness of the water. Red hot pain from the trap around his
leg.
At
least now Ben could see the hidden reason to his son’s torture. It failed to bring him any relief from
worry, though. Ben could see
upon closer inspection that the trap was old and rusty, and knew that it would
take some effort to remove it from the boy’s leg. Whichever way they tried to do it, he
doubted that it would be possible to remove it without causing his son
unbelievable pain.
By
now Hoss had returned with the blankets, but upon hearing his brother’s
pitiful screams of agony, he dumped them onto the muddy bank of the stream and
entered the water to try and help his father.
“He’s
got some sort of trap around his ankle,” Ben now informed Hoss. Hoss immediately groaned as his thoughts
went back to this same stream only a week earlier when it had been the bear cub
who had fallen victim to one of
these vicious tools.
Hoss
and Ben now traded places so that Hoss could get a better look at the
trap. He, too, could see the
corrosion of the metal. He
went to try and find a large stick to help release the trap. Ben was now holding his youngest
boy as best he could from the muddy bank. As he held the boy, he rubbed his
arms and chest, trying to get some warmth back into him. The boy was just too cold.
Hoss
had been heading back into the water with the stick when Ben and Hoss both
heard another rider approaching the stream from the opposite direction. For a few seconds the stranger was too
far away for them to see who it was, and they immediately became apprehensive
about someone else coming closer.
Ben gave a large sigh of relief, though, when he could finally make out
the black-clad figure of his eldest son Adam on his horse Sport.
Hoss
smiled briefly at the sight of his brother as well, but then firmly set his
mind to the task at hand: releasing
his brother from his iron shackle.
Upon
seeing his father and brother in the stream, Adam pulled his horse to a sudden
stop and bolted towards them with worry and concern etched all over his
face. His gaze became fixated on
the slim figure, shrouded by his father’s embrace, and his heart almost
stopped beating for a few seconds.
Ben
could see the fear and dread on his son’s face as Adam walked forward and
gently pushed back one of the mud-caked curls from the unconscious boy’s
forehead. “How long has he
been here?” Adam asked in a barely audible whisper.
“I
don’t know, son, Hoss and I just found him a few minutes ago
ourselves. He has a trap around his
ankle. Hoss is working on getting
it off now. This water is so
cold…” Ben answered.
“I’ll
help Hoss,” Adam said knowing that he would be more help to his brother
that way. He, too, just wanted to
hold the boy and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but that
luxury was afforded to their father at present. Ben nodded at Adam’s
statement as he continued to rub the cold flesh of his son’s arms and
chest.
The trap turned out to be harder to remove than they first
thought. Joe had made a few moans
of pain through the whole procedure, but the exhaustion, combined with the cold
and the pain, caused him to revert mostly back to his earlier state of
unconsciousness.
“Ah, finally!” Hoss exclaimed as he managed to slip the
thin stick between the metal jaws of the trap and release their grip on
Joe’s ankle. Once the jaws
were loosened however, the horrible-looking puncture marks began bleeding
again. Adam now held
his brother’s leg and tried to use the boy’s sodden trousers to
help compress the wound and slow the flow of blood.
On Ben’s orders, they now carefully carried the unconscious youth
between the three of them and headed up the muddy bank. Hoss immediately
grabbed one of the blankets around his brother’s shivering body, the
other he passed to Adam.
Adam proceeded to tear a large strip from this one and use it as a bandage
to tightly wrap the torn leg.
Unfortunately, any repairs to the leg or to any other part of
Joe’s body would have to wait until they could get him back to the
Ponderosa and into the expert physician’s hands of Paul Martin.
Ben wondered whether they should wait a while and allow Joe to get some
rest before starting to head back the way they came. A few more moans of pain and
shivers from Joe, however, quickly convinced him that they needed to get the
boy to medical help as soon as possible.
They already had quite a few hours of riding ahead, just to complicate
matters even more.
Adam gave his father one of the blankets from his own bedroll and
proceeded to wrap the first around Little Joe. Adam held his brother’s
frail form while his father mounted Buck.
He then passed the boy to his father, who wrapped him as tightly into
his embrace as possible. He hoped
that his own body heat would help the boy over the next few of hours on the
ride home.
“Hoss, I want you to go as fast as you can and get Doc Martin to
meet us back at the Ponderosa.
If you see Roy along the way, tell him about finding Joe and that we
will need to talk to him as soon as Joe is able to. Go quickly, son,” he emphasised.
Hoss briefly walked over to his father while mounted on Chubb and
looked down at his sleeping brother.
“You just hold on there, punkin,” he said. “Ol’ Hoss is going to get
the doctor for you, and he will fix you up good as new, ya hear?” Hoss quickly tried to smile at his
father and older brother and then turned his horse around and galloped off in
the direction of Virginia City.
“You alright with him, Pa?” Adam asked not knowing what
other words of comfort to say to his father at a time like this. It was obvious to all of them that
Little Joe’s condition was serious if not life-threatening. They just had to get him home and pray
that lots of rest and good food would see the usually full of life kid bounce
back to his normal self.
“I’ll be fine, Adam,” Ben said gently as he looked
back down at the child nestled in his coat. “Let’s get him home,”
he said and started Buck into a
slow walk. At the moment that
was all he was willing to risk.
Hopefully they would be able to pick up the pace as they got closer to
home.
Ben’s thoughts were interrupted by the meek sound of his
son’s voice coming back at him. He only barely caught the words
and asked the boy to repeat what he said. Little Joe’s eyes were once
again closed, but he repeated the sentence, “You ………..
finally ………… found me,” he whispered and was then
lost to sleep again.
***********************************************************
With Hoss now riding hard towards Virginia City, Adam and Ben were left
to carry their precious burden back
home. They knew that time was
a critical factor in the boy’s chances of survival. At one point during the long arduous and
slow trek through the landscape, Adam had pondered the idea of stopping to make
a fire to try and warm the still unconscious youth.
Whilst Ben thought that the warmth was needed, he also realised that it
was medical treatment was so desperately needed and they were still some way
from the homestead.
A few times Ben had paused his ride and readjusted the sleeping bundle
tucked under his coat. Joe never
seemed to feel his touch or hear the soothing words of comfort whispered in his
ear as they rode. Adam rode
in front of Ben and Joe, trying to get his mind away from the worry and concern
that he felt at the moment.
After about four hours of never-ending road, Adam and Ben started to
recognize the outskirts of the Ponderosa.
They now could follow the road with their hearts filled with a little
relief at finally reaching their destination.
“Adam, you go on and get things ready at the house for
Joe,” Ben now said, suggesting that Adam ride on ahead. “Tell Hop Sing what has
happened and how we found him. Tell
him we will need plenty of blankets and towels, bandages and anything else that
you can think of. Make sure you get that fire going in the
living room and in Joe’s room please”
The words seemed to tumble out of his mouth all at once and tangle
together into incoherent sentences.
Adam’s and his father’s eyes met briefly and seemed to make
sense out of all the chaos.
Adam nodded his head slightly, signalling his agreement, and now started
for home at a faster pace.
“Not far to go now, son, just a little way and you’re home,
boy,” Ben whispered to Joe. “You’ll soon be
safe and warm in your own bed,” he said to his sleeping son. He knew he could manage the
‘warm’ part easily enough. The ‘safe’ part was
going to be slightly more difficult to achieve. There was no doubt in Ben’s mind
that his son would be scared and unsure for the next few days until he was back
in familiar surroundings and the love and understanding of his family.
***********************************************************
Back at the Ponderosa homestead, Adam arrived in the yard and was very
pleased to see the buggy of the local doctor outside the front porch. He hitched his horse up to a rail
outside and was quick to get inside, wanting to talk to Paul about his brother.
Hoss and Paul Martin both looked up as Adam walked into the room. “Hey, Adam,” came the
greeting from Hoss.
“Glad to see you home safe, Adam,” Paul said a little bit
more formally and stepped forward to shake Adam’s hand. The doctor knew that there would be
little else on the Cartwrights minds at the moment except for Joseph.
“Have you told the Doctor here what happened, Hoss?” Adam now
asked his younger brother.
“Hop Sing, you will need to have a few things ready for when Pa
arrives home with Joe,” Adam said now, addressing the little oriental man
coming out of the kitchen into the living room.
“No time stop talk to Mr Adam. Get things ready for boy when get
home,” Hop Sing said obviously not hearing Adam’s request. It seemed though that Hop Sing had
everything already under control as he carried a basin laden with bandages and
a few small bottles up the stairs towards Joe’s room. Hop Sing probably already had a good
idea what would be needed, and Adam was sure that Paul would have everything he
needed with him in his black medical bag.
The three men now stood anxiously in the living room, too nervous to
sit down, while they waited for Ben and Joe to arrive back home. There was no conversation as the worry
was evident on their faces. Even
Doctor Paul Martin showed his concern about Joe’s condition. He had yet
to see the boy, but from all accounts from Hoss, the boy was in a very bad way
when he was found in the stream.
Joseph was almost like a son to him as well and he knew that anything
happening to the youngest Cartwright would affect him just as badly as the
family itself.
They continued to wait. The
only sound in the room was Hop Sing trudging up and down the staircase to
Joe’s room. For the last four
or five trips, he had been carrying a bucket of hot water in each hand. Hoss and Hop Sing had manoeuvred a metal
bathtub into the room when Hoss first arrived home. From Hoss’s description, the
boy was covered in mud from lying so long in the stream. He would need to be cleaned before Paul
could even start his examination of the boy. It was assumed that the hot water would
also help to warm the boy, too.
Just when it all seemed that the waiting was too much of a burden to
Hoss, there was the sound of hooves on the ground outside. All three men raced to the front door to
greet the approaching rider.
They all met a very tired-looking Ben sitting on top of Buck whilst holding
onto Joe. Joe stilled looked to be
unconscious and that greatly worried the Doctor. He was told that the boy has been
unconscious when they had found him partly submerged in the stream. That had been well over four hours
ago.
“Adam, you take Joe from your father and Hoss you help Ben inside
to a cup of hot coffee,” Doc Martin said, now making sure that all of the
Cartwrights were going to be alright.
Adam’s gaze became fixated on the limp form of his youngest
brother against his father’s chest.
The boy looked no older than twelve rather than the energetic youth of
sixteen he had greeted at the breakfast table a week or so ago. The boy’s complexion was
very pale in contrast to the dark shirt his father wore underneath his tan
leather vest. He pulled himself out
of his trance-like state and now raised his arms, ready to take the boy inside.
Ben knew that his arms had become numb over the last hour or so from
holding onto his son, so it was with a little relief that he allowed Adam to
take Joe from his saddle. Adam made
sure that there was one strong arm around the boy’s shoulders, and
another under his knees. He would
need to be careful of the leg wound as they made their way inside and up the
staircase.
For some unknown reason, Adam felt himself hold the boy tightly to his
chest as he carried him inside.
He knew that the boy was unaware of his family, but Adam needed to feel
the boy just to make sure that the image he saw was real.
There had been many thoughts of fear and worry that had run through his
mind over the last two days. He had
lain awake after Hoss and his father had retired after another long day of
searching, telling himself that they would find Joe safe and well again. As that week had drawn on, it had become
harder and harder to convince himself of this fact.
Hoss had helped his father from Buck and let one of the hands put the
animal in the barn for the night.
Ben had stood in the one spot for a few minutes and tried in vain at
many stages to stretch some of the aches and kinks out of his sore
muscles. They had become stiff from
being in the same position for so long.
Afterwards, Ben strode purposefully into the house wanting to know the
condition of his youngest son.
Hop Sing had placed the cup of coffee on the table at Doc
Martin’s suggestion, but now, with more important things on his mind, Ben
walked right passed it, fully expecting it to get cold before he would return
to drink it.
Doc Martin had already begun to help Hoss and Adam undress Little Joe
just as Ben approached the doorway to the room. “What can I do, Paul?” Ben
asked knowing how stupid the question sounded even before he asked it.
“I want you to take care of yourself first, Ben
Cartwright,” Doc Martin answered sternly. “I know you are more concerned
about Little Joe than yourself at the moment, but the room’s already
crowded with the three of us, for the time being. By the time you get yourself cleaned up,
we should be finished the bath so that I can begin the proper examination of
his injuries. That’s probably
when I am going to need you the most, Ben,” Doc Martin said.
Paul was expecting a full-fledged argument with the patriarch of the
Cartwright family and although he could see worry and concern etched on his old
friend’s face, he could also
see the signs of fatigue and submission.
“Alright, Paul, you win, for a short while. I will get myself cleaned up a little,
but after that I will be right back ready to help you with my son whether you
or him both want it.” Ben replied in his most serious voice.
Adam, Hoss and Paul all watched Ben turn from the room and saw his
slumped posture as he walked slowly back to his own room for a few
minutes. All knew that his
shoulders were weighed down heavily with worry, fear and guilt about his son as
well as with fatigue from the trip.
Now Paul quickly snapped back to his task at hand, knowing that there
was another Cartwright who needed his help more at the moment. Hop Sing had come in and filled the
copper bathtub up with warm water.
He had then gone about laying some heavier sheets on top of Joe’s
bed so that they could be easily taken away once Joe’s filthy rags had
been removed.
Hoss held his little brother in a slightly upright position from behind
as Adam and Doc teamed up to help with the mattered bits of cloth. They had to be careful not to cause any
more injury to the already gravely ill boy before them.
First the two last remaining buttons on the shirt were undone, and Adam
very carefully started to peel back the fabric from his brother’s
chest. He sighed secretly in relief
when he was able to see the chest slowly inflate and deflate from Joe’s
deep breathing action.
Both Adam and Paul held back there gasps of shock at the extent of the
bruising on the boy’s upper body. There were dark purple bruises all
over the rib cage, some which had not fully formed yet. They looked angry and overlapped
each other in places, signalling the severity of the beating that Joe had been
the recipient of.
Hoss was unable to compose himself quite as well and his eyes filled
with rage when he saw the punishment that had been inflicted upon his younger
brother. He swore to both his
brother and himself that he would make the men responsible pay.
Paul reminded both Adam and Hoss that they needed to put their personal
feelings aside about what had happened to Joe so that they could help heal his
injuries. He knew it was difficult
for both brothers to do just this, but Joe couldn’t afford to be exposed
to the elements anymore than was absolutely necessary. The boy had already shown signs of
illness due to lying in the cold water of the stream for so long in addition to
the long, windy ride home on his father’s horse.
With Joe’s trousers, Paul though it best if they cut the legs
back to the knee length before trying to pull them off. Some of the fabric had become imbedded
in the wound on his right leg and when Paul had tried to gently probe the area
to remove the dirt and debris, the pain had been bad enough to bring Joe from
the deep dark depths of unconsciousness to just under the surface of
waking. Hoss found that he had to
adjust and tighten his grip on his younger brother so that he wouldn’t
thrash about from the pain and hurt himself further.
Paul now took a knife that Hop Sing had provided and slit the legs of
the trousers just above the knee.
They were able to remove the shortened pants over the injured area
without causing Joe too much discomfort.
Paul suggested that they might be able to remove the dirt and debris a
little bit better with the aid of the water in the tub.
They all had wondered about Joe’s reaction to modesty, but soon
put that aside and told themselves that Joe would just have to put up with a little
embarrassment until they finished the bathing of his body. Joe was still unconscious, despite the
probing and removing of clothes, and they just hoped that that would last until
they finished what they had to do.
Doc Martin checked the temperature of the water one last time and now
motioned for Adam and Hoss to carefully pick up their inert brother’s
body and place it in the water. He
reminded them to be extra gentle and watch out for the boy’s injuries and
also for the boy waking suddenly from being immersed in the water and thrashing
about, causing more pain to himself.
Adam now moved to the head of the bed and placed one arm underneath
Joe’s slim back and wrapped the other securely but gently around his
chest. Hoss placed both arms
underneath Little Joe’s knees and now lifted the slight weight from the
bed with Adam.
Both Adam and Hoss shuffled together across the short distance to the
copper tub with Joe in their arms.
Very slowly they now lowered his body into the warm water, continuing to
support him the whole time for fear of his head slipping under the water. They had been a little
disappointed not to see the reaction that Doc Martin had alerted
them to earlier. There
brother made no such attempt to thrash about, there was not even a twitch to
signal that he might be coming awake.
Adam now took the soft cloth left by Hop Sing and using the hand that
had been across Joe’s chest, and started to wipe away some of the dirt
and grime that had become encrusted on his brother’s skin over the last
two days.
As the dust and mud were swirling together to made the water cloudy,
Joe’s numerous cuts and bruises were becoming more noticeable. Some of them had yet to form and were
only visible by small dots of purple around the edges. The injury that caused the most concern
was the right leg where the metal jaws of the rusty trap had bitten into the
soft flesh and tissue of Joe’s leg.
The warm water seemed to get most of the dirt from the injury, but now,
with the puncture wounds submerged, there was some fresh bleeding. Adam and Hoss knew that there
might be internal injuries that they couldn’t see at the moment.
This suspicion seemed to be confirmed by the dark and ugly bruises
stating to emerge over Joe’s rib cage and chest area. Apart from the injuries on his
torso and lower legs, the injury that stood out the most, and made Adam’s
and Hoss’s blood boil over with hatred and contempt, was the rope burn
around Joe’s neck.
The rope burn was a mark about half an inch wide that went all the way
around Joe’s neck. It was
possible to see the twist pattern made by the weave of the rope in the raw
circle of skin that encircled the slender neckline.
“I swear, Adam, if I find out who did this to Little
Joe……..,” Hoss said, leaving the sentence unfinished as to
what he might physically do to Joe’s assailants. Adam, who normally prided himself about
his ideas of justice for all and never jumping to conclusions about anybody,
could only sadly nod his head to Hoss’s comment as he felt the surge of
his own anger rise again. He, too,
told himself secretly that he didn’t know what he would do if he came
across the men who had been responsible for kidnapping and beating his little
brother half to death.
The three men had been leaning over the unconscious boy, who lay limp
in the copper bathtub, and all had various thoughts of anger and retribution on
their minds as they tended to Joe with the utmost care.
All of their thoughts were forgotten, however, and the words on the
tips of their tongues dried up as they all saw a slight movement that made them
all hold their breath in anticipation.
Little Joe felt like he was swimming. Swimming against a never-ending tide of
black that seemed to surround him on all sides. For a brief moment, the black mass
seemed to clear a little, and he thought he saw a strange and distant light
before him. He didn’t
know where the light led to, and he really didn’t know if he wanted to go
towards it.
Whilst his tired mind was trying to work out what to do, his physical
body reacted in the bathtub by turning his head to the side, pausing for a
moment, and then turning back to the other side. By the time he had turned his head
back, the blackness was swirling around him again, and his fatigue prevented
anymore thought.
The blackness this time seemed to be lighter and he didn’t think
that he was fighting the gloom as hard this time. His brain hoped that he would
again see the strange light and maybe it would lead him from this eternal
midnight.
“Doc, did you see that?” Hoss finally said, breaking the
silence of the room, as they all waited to see if the movement was a true sign
of Joe waking up or just a reflex action. Hoss’s eyes never left
his younger brother’s sleeping face, and neither did those of Adam or Doc
Martin.
“I don’t know, Hoss, maybe its a sign,” Doc Martin
answered, still peering at Joe and waiting for another brief movement. “Let’s hurry and get
him out of this tepid water now. I
want him up on the bed so that I can examine him properly and go about fixing
that leg,” he added.
Adam and Hoss carefully lifted their brother out of the water and
lowered him onto a clean sheet that had been warmed and laid across the
bed. The three of them then went
about drying Joe’s body with towels that Hop Sing had provided.
It was about the time that they had finished drying Joe and getting him
into a nightshirt that Ben came back into the room, wearing clean clothes of
his own and looking decidedly better than before.
“How is he, Paul?” Ben asked, as he walked across to the
bed and took a place next to his son as Hoss stepped aside. Ben’s hand grasped
Joe’s, and he absent-mindedly started to stroke the boy’s cheek,
urging him to wake up for them.
“We’ve only just finished cleaning him up Ben” Doc
Martin said, as he started going through his medical bag, making sure he had
everything that he would need for the examination he was about to perform. “Not sure, but I think he might be
waking up. He moved his head
slightly in the bath, but then seemed to go back to sleep,” Paul
explained.
“Hopefully its a good sign.
Now, I will allow you to stay, Ben, but I want Hoss and Adam out,
I’m afraid,” he now added. He knew from experience that Ben
Cartwright would have no intentions of leaving his injured son’s room, by
force or not. He
couldn’t afford to have Joe’s room too crowded, though. He was going to be at this a while
and needed the room to remain as quiet as possible to be able to complete his
task.
Adam and Hoss smiled slightly at their father as they headed to the
door. They didn’t say
anything but knew that what the doctor was asking was only for Joe’s
benefit. They were worried about
him, but would wait downstairs for the diagnosis graciously. Adam made sure that the door
clicked closed on his way out.
“You can remain where you are, Ben,” Paul said to his old
friend “I am going to check him over for other injuries first, and then
attend to the ones we can see. I
want the water to dry from the puncture wounds a little before I attempt to
suture and bandage them.”
Ben nodded his agreement.
Paul started at Joe’s head and slowly worked his way down. All the time the doctor was
completing the examination, Ben’s vision followed his skilled hands. He never let his eyes stray from his son
for a second while the doctor attempted to assess his true state of condition.
The first injury that was evident on Joe was the wound left by Butch
Thomas striking his head with the butt of the pistol. It lie just inside his hairline so
that some of the curls were stiff from the dried blood. Although most of the blood had been
washed away to reveal only a
nasty- looking but small gash.
Paul made a mental note to
dab at the area with a little ointment.
Other than that the cut wasn’t large or deep enough to require
stitching. Paul spoke to Ben
as he went about the examination whilst still keeping his trained eyes on his
young patient.
The next bruise that the doctor saw puzzled him more than worried.
It was a darkish bruise about the size of a coin in the centre of his
left temple. It wasn’t
life-threatening or even caused pain the doctor surmised, but what did make him
curious about it was its perfect shape. It was a perfect ring with a
hollow centre.
What could have made such a mark on the boy? Ben saw his friend pause and look
intently at the small mark.
He, too, could see the bruise, but didn’t seem overly concerned
about it as Paul did.
“What’s wrong, Paul?” Ben asked, as he continued to
watch his son and the doctor.
“I am just curious about what could have been used to make such a
perfectly round bruise on the boy’s temple,” Paul replied. “It seems to be the least of his
problems at the moment, though,” Paul reminded himself and set about
examining the rest of the boy without putting a lot of thought into such a
small bruise.
Paul now gently lifted each of Joe’s eyelids to peer underneath
at the pupils. “They
both look a little better Ben,” Paul said out loud. “Not so dilated as before, maybe
that’s a good sign,” he added.
It was about now that the dark fog that had been holding Joe began to
release its grip, and once again Joe could feel himself floating towards the
unknown distant light ahead. He
could now hear voices in his head.
He couldn’t really work out who they belonged to just yet, and
they all seemed to combine into one low-sounding voice. He tried to listen harder to try and
work out what the voices were saying.
Paul was now touching at the rope burn around Joe’s neck. Ben had to sit with his hands in
clenched fists to stop the anger he felt rising inside him when he thought
about somebody having a rope around his son’s neck for any reason.
The fact that the rope had been tight enough to make an impression on
his skin made Ben’s anger settle in the pit of his stomach in one big
ball of anger. He always spoke to
his sons about justice and letting the law handle things that were in the
wrong, but looking now down at the fragile boy lying on the bed beside him, the
words he had spoken in the past seemed to hold no real meaning anymore.
Paul reached into his
medical bag and placed a small amount of a translucent cream on his finger
tips, ready to rub it into the scarred area. The cream was often used in burns
cases, but would work equally as well with this injury. Paul now spread the cream to both
hands and then placed his fingertips on the raw skin and attempted to massage
the cream into the red and dried skin. He and Ben were not prepared for
the reaction they were about to receive.
Joe had been slowly working his way back to consciousness for the last
ten to fifteen minutes. The feeling
that jolted him awake with fear was that of the doctor’s fingers around
his neck. At this stage he
was unable to comprehend whose hands they actually were. To him they could have been
anybody. At the moment, with his
mind so tortured from his ordeal, there was only one face that came into his
mind when thinking about who the hands belonged to………Butch
Thomas.
Joe told himself to calm down as he could feel the fingers seemingly
encircle his already sore neck.
He felt the pain from the injury, and his mind associated the pain with
his kidnapper. He had no
recollection of being found by his father and brothers and that the fingers
might be from somebody trying to help him.
His mind screamed at him that he couldn’t let Butch Thomas get his
hands on him again. He vaguely
remembered getting away from him at some point and now it seemed as though his
nightmare had caught up with him again only to dish out some more punishment.
His throat felt so raw that he could scarcely swallow, but he knew that
at the moment his very life might be in danger again. He had to get away. He gathered as much moisture as he could
into the back of his throat, ready to scream to Thomas to leave him the hell
alone.
Paul had only been rubbing the cream into Joe’s neck for a short
time when all of a sudden the boy’s eyes opened wide and his hands sprung
up from his side and started to push the doctor’s hands away. He was trying to release the words he
held in his throat, but all that emerged was a low stark moan that didn’t
seem to have any meaning at all except pain.
Paul and Ben were both shocked when it seemed that this boy, who had
been unconscious for hours, now suddenly sat up on his own and was trying to
fight them from helping him.
“Stop it, I am not going to let you hurt me again!” Joe
screamed through his raw throat.
“Leave me alone… leave me alone…don’t hurt me
anymore,” he pleaded as tears came to his eyes and he continued to claw
away at the doctor’s gentle hands on his neck.
“Joseph, its alright, son,” Ben said, now recovering from
his initial shock and seeing that the boy was obviously distressed. “Doc Martin is only trying to help
you,” Ben added, trying to restrain his son’s hands gently enough
to allow the doctor to do his work.
Joe turned his face towards the voice that spoke to him, but it took a
few seconds for his mind to focus on who was saying the words. “Pa,” was the only word he
could croak out, disbelieving the image in front of him to be the one person he
had been hoping to come during this last week of torture.
“Yes ,son, its me,” Ben said with a smile and a little
chuckle at the boy’s confusion.
Inside his heart was still trying to calm down. “You’re safe now,
Joseph. Nobody is going to hurt you
again, I promise,” he added with firmness meant to add to the boy’s
need for safety and security right now. Joe looked at his father for
a few seconds still trying to comprehend whom he was seeing in the room. He started to cry again and
collapsed into the willing embrace of his father. The emotion and fatigue were all too
much for him.
Ben now moved closer to the boy by sitting on the bed whilst still
holding onto his son. He knew that
the boy was looking for reassurance and protection and he was happy to provide
them.
“I need you to try and keep him awake a little longer,
Ben,” Paul said, as he tried to look over his young patient without being
intrusive. He was glad the boy was
awake and he wanted to continue his necessary medical treatment, but he could
see that the fear and emotion in the boy at the moment were overwhelming and
needed attention as much as his injuries.
He would have to tread carefully with the boy. Ben nodded his head, knowing
that it was dangerous to let the boy return to sleep after only just waking
from such a deep state of unconsciousness.
Joe had heard the second voice as he lay against his father’s
chest and now turned his head so that he peeked out from under Ben’s arm
in a timid glance towards the doctor.
He continued to stare at the man for quite a while. His brain told him that it was Doctor
Paul Martin that was touching him and it wasn’t Butch Thomas hurting
him. He told himself that he knew
Doc Martin to be a good and caring person, but all of this rationality
didn’t help to ease his fears.
Joe continued to look at Paul from his protected position in his
father’s embrace. Doc Martin
could see the questions in the young man’s emerald green eyes. The sad part was that the doctor knew he
didn’t have all the answers that the young man yearned so much to hear.
“That’s right son, its just me, old Doc Martin,” Paul
said gently as he reached out his hand and placed it on the boy’s
knee. The boy seemed to
shrink away from all other forms of human contact except that of his
father. It soon became plain
to the boy that he couldn’t go anywhere else, and so he allowed the
doctor’s hand to touch his skin again.
Doc Martin could see that although Joe was now awake and needed to stay
so for a while yet, the days of fatigue was etched in his young skin and
despite his previous unconsciousness, his body demanded decent food and rest
before it could begin the healing process.
The doctor knew that although his young patient was reluctant and shy,
he needed to keep at his examination. He said so out loud
and told Ben that it would be alright if Joe stayed in the comfort of his
father’s arms. There was no
need to create any further alarm to the boy or any unnecessary distress. The boy had been through hell enough
over the last week or so.
Doc warmed his hands a little and then proceeded to place them on
Joe’s chest to feel the extent of the injuries that might have been
caused. Joe had to turn his
head into his father’s chest and bite down on his lip to stop from
yelling out loud from the pain he felt. He knew the doctor was only trying
to help, but even the gentlest of touches caused the dull ache in his chest to
erupt into a stabbing pain that left him almost breathless.
Ben put one hand behind Joe’s back and tried to soothe away some
of the pain with long, calming caresses down the young man’s back. He could hear the faint grunts of
pain that his son emitted every time the doctor moved his fingertips.
“It actually feels a little better than I first suspected,
Ben,” Paul said with a degree of satisfaction. “There is some severe bruising to
the muscles and outer skin, but other than that, the ribs don’t seem to
be cracked or broken. That’s
a real blessing considering all
he’s been through. I
don’t even think it will need tapping at this stage. If he takes it easy, the bruising should
come out fully in a couple of days and then start to disappear,” Paul
said.
“Joe, for the next few days, I want you to do some deep breathing
exercises to help your bruised chest.
I know they will hurt at first, but they need to be done to help your
chest regain its strength. The pain
will ease as the muscles get stronger again.” Paul said in a very calm
voice. He saw a slight nod of
the curly head and knew that his patient had at least heard his words.
With each minute that passed, Paul could slowly see Joe’s head
bow just that little more against Ben’s chest and his eyelids grow just
that little bit heavier with the call of sleep.
Most of the other cuts and bruises on Joe were superficial and would
need no more care than bed rest and good food from Hop Sing’s
kitchen Paul now set about
suturing the puncture wounds on Joe’s leg. He pulled out a small bottle of alcohol
and began to dab some of the clear liquid on a small cloth.
He sat right beside Ben and gave a nod, which meant for his friend to
hold onto the boy a little tighter for a few minutes. Ben nodded back, reading the
doctor’s intentions, and then Paul held Joe’s other leg down with
his free hand.
Joe had known that the alcohol would sting his leg, but he wasn’t
quite prepared for the burning sensation that came afterwards and seemed to
just get hotter and hotter. Joe
tried hard, but in the end he just couldn’t hold back the scream of
pain.
He had tears streaming down his face, and his hands gripped onto the
front of his father’s shirt with a vice-like grip. He begged his father and the
doctor to make the pain stop, but unfortunately it was beyond their
control. Both men wished they could
take the pain for the boy and both felt anguish of their own at the boy’s
distressed condition.
“I’m sorry, Little Joe, but I need to make sure the wounds
are nice and clean before I start stitching them,” Paul said, as he put
the cloth and bottle of alcohol back into his medical bag. Ben continued to rub Joe’s back,
trying to stem the steady stream of hiccups that had resulted from the
crying. He gently kissed his
son on the forehead and told him that everything would soon be alright.
Ben watched now as Paul pulled a small needle out of his bag filled
with opaque-coloured liquid. Ben
looked questioningly at the doctor, not distrusting the man, but concerned that
they were still trying to keep the boy awake a little longer rather than put
him back to sleep.
“I thought we had to try and keep him wake, Paul?” Ben
asked.
“This is only a muscle relaxant, Ben. I think Joe’s had enough for one
day. I, too, would ideally like to
see the boy awake for a little longer, and with most people staying awake only
calm’s them down. In
Joe’s case, at the moment however, I wouldn’t be surprised if it
does eventually put him to sleep.
He is physically tired and mentally exhausted, and he needs to be calm
whilst I tend to his leg. I think
its for the best, Ben,” Paul said, and smiled slightly when Ben nodded
his head in approval and smile slightly back. Both could see from Joe’s tired
eyes and facial features that the boy wouldn’t be awake must longer,
anyway.
To the men’s surprise, however, the boy had more in him than they
thought. Both of them wondered if
it was true inner strength that Joe was demonstrating by staying awake as long
as he did or a deeper darker meaning of his torturous ordeal. Joe was still
awake well after the last suture had been inserted into his leg to seal the
wounds and even after the injury was wrapped in a clean white bandage.
Just as Paul was doing the final wrapping, Hop Sing seemed to
guess what would be the next
priority for the boy, and he walked into the room with an only slightly warm
bowl of soup. It was barely warm so
that Joe could drink it straight away.
Hop Sing walked over to the bed and gave his favourite Cartwright his
best smile, and although he got a slight smile of appreciation in return, Hop
Sing knew that there was something missing in those sad eyes. The light in them had been extinguished
and now they held no laughter or signs of happiness. Something that his family couldn’t
put a price on had been taken away from Joe.
“Mista Cartwright spoon to boy?” Hop Sing enquired.
“I don’t know if its a good idea to try and get him moving
around much at the moment Hop Sing,” Ben replied. “How about I just let him stay
where he is and prop him up a little more, and you can spoon the soup to him in
small amounts so he doesn’t choke?” he added. Hop Sing seemed pleased with this
arrangement. It meant that he
actually felt that he was helping the boy by doing this small, but
oh-so-important task.
For the next five minutes, Joe allowed them to spoon half a tablespoon
of soup to him at a time. At first
he really wasn’t sure that he wanted anything to eat at all. But he knew
that if he put up a protest, Doc Martin would find something awful-tasting to
make up for it. At least Hop
Sing’s soup tasted better than any concoction the doctor could invent.
When the soup bowl was about half empty of its contents, Joe’s
body finally succumbed to its exhaustion and pain, and he fell asleep still
leaning against his father’s chest with Hop Sing still attempting to get
more of his nourishing soup into his mouth.
All three men couldn’t help but smile at the innocence Joe
portrayed when he was asleep. They
all felt that resurgence of anger when they thought about how close they had
come to never seeing such contentment again.
Even in sleep, Joe’s upper eyelids seemed again to be always
flickering, indicating that the boy was dreaming. Every now and then, there would be
a quiet gasp of alarm or a groan of pain, as if he was reliving his whole
kidnapping ordeal again. It seemed
even that when he wasn’t in Butch Thomas’s presence, the man found
a way to inflict hurt and torment his mind.
“Do you think you can move, Ben, without waking him?” Paul
now asked his friend as he saw the awkward position he had been forced into as
Joe’s pillow. There was no
doubt in the doctor’s mind that Ben would be needed for quite some time
to come in a number of roles:
healer, comforter, listener, carer, and most of all, father.
Ben looked down at his sleeping bundle and then very carefully and
slowly started to slid out from underneath the boy’s slight weight. There were one or two small groans at
first, but then the boy seemed to go silent again, and then there was nothing
as Ben laid Joe’s body out on his back on the bed and covered him with a
blanket.
“Let’s leave him settle on his own for a few minutes
and go down to Adam and
Hoss” Paul suggested. “Someone can come back and
sit with him in a few minutes.” he added, suggesting that Ben get some rest
himself and let one of the other family members take the first watch with Joe.
Ben followed the doctor out the door to his son’s room, stealing
a quick glance back towards his slumbering son.
Hoss was seated in the living room, as the doctor descended the stairs,
and Adam seemed to be deep in thought, prodding at the hot coals of the fire
place with a poker. They both
forgot what they were thinking about and immediately turned to face the two men
coming out of Joe’s room.
Both desperately wanted to know their brother’s condition.
“There is a long road ahead, boys, but given some time, I think
he will recover nicely,” Paul said, just to reassure them from the
beginning. “The biggest worry
we have at the moment, apart from the mental torment, is his leg injury, of
course. He has extensive bruising
that will be sore for a number of weeks.
Thankfully, though that doesn’t make them any less painful for the
boy. He will be a very stiff and
sore boy for a good month or so,” Paul explained.
“The injury that causes me the most concern, is the puncture wounds from the trap.
The trap was old and rusty as you know, so there is a high risk of infection
due to dirt and other materials being driven to the wound by the steel
jaws.
I have tried to clean them out the best I can, but we will just have to
wait and see if there are any adverse effects. There will, no doubt, be some sort
of fever from his injuries, but how severe and how high it will go, I
can’t tell at this stage. He seems to have swallowed
some mud and water from the stream, but it doesn’t seem to have affected
his lungs to any great extend.
Something to be even more thankful, I think, because Lord knows that boy
doesn’t need anything else like a bout of pneumonia,” he continued.
“What about his mental attitude and the effect all of this is
going to have on him in the long term?” Adam now asked plainly.
“As good as a doctor as I am Adam, that is something that is
unknown at this stage. His mind is
probably going to take the longest to heal. After he is healed physically, we
will need to gradually start working on his self-esteem and confidence again. I think the easiest way, but probably
the most painful way also, is for him to open up to one or all of you and tell
us exactly what happened to him out there.
It may be a day, a week or a month or a few months, but sometime down
the track he is going to have to come to terms with what happened to him out
there. I am not going to sugar-coat
it for you: it is going to be
very difficult, for him and for you, to hear what he has to say,” Paul
admitted.
He could see the sullen looks now on the two brothers at the uphill
battle it was going to become.
Neither of them would back away from the challenge, though. Both of them wanted to help their
younger brother heal his physical injuries as well as the mental ones.
“Now, your brother is going to stay off his leg for the next two
months or so while his body starts to heal and I allow him to get out of
bed,” Paul said in a more serious tone.
“Let him out of bed?” Adam now asked with a touch of
sarcasm in his voice. They all knew
too well about Joe’s past experiences with injury and how quickly the
young man was trying to get the doctor to let him get out of bed. Most of the time it was well before the
doctor had wanted to in the first place.
“I know, I know,” Paul said with a grin. He too was used to the battles he and
his patient offered wagered about his confinement to bed. “But you will have to help him out
a little more than he would like, I’m afraid, until he gets used to the
crutches. They aren’t the
easiest things to move around on.”
“Don’t worry, Doc, we will take the very best care of
him,” Hoss said with a
determined voice.
“I know you will, Hoss,” Paul said, giving the large man a
slap on the shoulder. It was
always the big men who fell first, the doctor told himself.
“I will be back to check on that leg tomorrow, Ben. The bandages will need to be changed
daily, maybe more than once. I will
come in the morning and see how he’s faired the night. Let me know if that fever I talked about
comes and gets too high,” he added as he stepped through the front door
of the homestead with bag in his hand.
Ben and he shook hands, knowing that Paul was never far away if the
family needed him again.
“Thanks, Paul, truly,” Ben said genuinely. Doc Martin nodded his head in acknowledgement
as he climbed into his buggy and prepared to head back down the dirt road to
Virginia City.
***********************************************************
Ben now closed the front door and locked it. “You, boys, you two get some rest
for a few hours. I will go and sit
with him for the night. One of you
can relieve me in the morning,” he said, as he headed towards the
staircase.
“Um, Pa,” Hoss now said, putting a gentle but restraining
hand on his father’s shoulder.
“Adam and I have been talking about things whilst you were seeing
Doc Martin off,” he said, feeling a little uneasy about what he was about
to say to his father. He had no
doubts that it needed to be said, but that didn’t make it any
easier. Hoss had rarely had
the need to be stern when talking to his father at any time during his entire
life.
“Oh, you have, have you, Hoss?” Ben asked with a raised
eyebrow. He suspected about the
topic of conversation, and he was trying to hide the smile he felt at his large
son’s obvious nervousness.
“Well, yeah, Pa, and we decided, that is, Adam and me thought it
would be best if one of us takes the first watch with Joe. That way you will be able to get a few
hours of sleep of your own, and be ready during the night if Joe needs
you. The boy is probably going to
sleep a while himself, anyway, according to what the Doc had to say,”
Hoss said.
His tongue felt like it was tied all in knots, and his stomach
wasn’t in much better shape.
He and Adam both knew that it would take a combined effort to get their
father to rest during such a crisis with his youngest son.
Ben was trying to muster up a valid argument for his two sons, but he
really did feel tired. “Fine,
son,” he said, clamping a gentle but firm hand on his large son’s
shoulder in appreciation, “You both win this time. I will go and try to sleep but I want to
be awoken the minute anything changes or if your brother starts to wake up at
all. Understand?” he now
asked with added emphasis.
“Sure, Pa,” Hoss said, inwardly sighing in relief that he
didn’t have to battle his father over this. The family had always joked with Joe
about having a short fuse and fiery temper, but it was just as well known where
half of that had been gained from.
Joseph was in many ways like his spirited mother Marie, but sometimes,
just when he exploded with anger at the wrong time, there was also a hint of
Ben in him.
Adam and Hoss now both watched Ben climb the remaining stairs to the
top floor and then slowly walk into his room and close the door behind him. Their father really did look tired and
worn out from worry over Joe.
“Remember, Hoss, don’t wake Pa unless it is absolutely
necessary,” Adam gently reminded his younger brother. He had seen the signs of fatigue
and the slouch in his father’s shoulders. “Let me know if there is
a problem. Hopefully the kid will
get some decent rest himself. Lord
knows he is going to need it,” he added and then headed towards his own
bedroom.
Hoss now headed towards Joe’s room. Once inside, he moved the
chair closer to the boy’s bed.
For a few minutes he just gazed down at the slumbering figure in the
bed, wondering what the next few days and weeks would bring to this
household. He knew that Joe’s
kidnapping and disappearance had had a vast affect on them all. He just hoped,
deep down that they would all be able to recover.
Most of all this young man lying in the bed. He couldn’t bear to think about
the mental torment that would be raging inside the young man, as he would be forced
to relive those horrible days of captivity. He took Joe’s sleep-limp hand in
his own and tried to will his own physical strength into the weak and frail
boy, hoping that he could at least be there when the boy needed him.
After about an hour, Hoss awoke with a start. He hadn’t realised himself dozing
off in the chair. He looked around
the room, trying to figure out what had startled him awake. He looked down at the bed and saw Joe
still appeared to be asleep.
He had kept his eyes on the young man for a few seconds longer when he
heard the young man groan and try to move about again. Part of him wanted to jump about
with relief that the boy was showing some signs of consciousness.
The other part of him became immediately worried when he saw the thin
sheen of sweat glisten on Joe’s forehead. He gently laid a hand on Joe’s
forehead and gasped outwards at the heat that was now radiating from the young
man’s body. It hadn’t
been there an hour ago. The fact
that the fever had started worried him, though at the moment it didn’t
feel too bad. Doc Martin had said that there might be some fever to fight the
injuries.
He tossed and turned it
over in his mind for a few more seconds, wondering whether or not to wake
Adam. Another small groan of pain
from Joe now convinced the big man of his earlier thought, and he quickly went
to the door and then gently rapped on Adam’s bedroom door.
“Adam,” Hoss now said in a whisper. He was mindful of waking his father and
kept looking back and forth towards Ben’s door the whole time he was
waiting for Adam. He was now
greeted at the door by a bleary- eyed, shirtless Adam. Adam looked as though he had slept very
little. Now looking at Hoss’s
worried face at the door, Adam instantly shook the last remnants of sleep and
grabbed a shirt before following Hoss to see what was going on.
As Adam and Hoss walked into Joe’s bedroom, the young man was
once again moaning, but this time he was getting more determined in his efforts
and was trying to move in the bed.
His moaning was becoming more persistent and louder and the movement in
the bed more frequent. Hoss and
Adam were instantly concerned that Joe would roll enough to cause himself more
pain. Adam sat at the head of
the bed and tried to talk soothingly to his still sleeping brother in an
attempt to calm him down in to a more restful sleep.
“Shssh, its alright, little buddy. Everything’s alright. Big brother’s here, go back to
sleep. You’re safe
now,” Adam said, as he gently caressed Joe’s forehead. He brushed the damp curls back and noted
with concern Hoss’s earlier observation of the fever that had started.
“Hoss, could you please go and get a basin of cool water and wash
cloth” Adam said, as he continued the calming actions on Joe.
“He gonna be alright, Adam?” Hoss said, the worry clearly
evident on his face.
“Sure he is, Hoss.
But we need to get this fever down as quick as possible,” he said.
“Now please go and get the basin of water. Then I want you to go and get some
sleep,” as he noted the tiredness in Hoss’s body posture.
“I don’t know whether I could sleep anyway, Adam,”
Hoss said, as he headed towards the door to get the things that Adam asked
for.
“Well, you are certainly going to try, Hoss,” Adam now said
firmly, not wanting to let his brother go any further without rest for
himself. He knew that Hoss was like
his father in many ways, and both of them would continue to care for Little Joe
without so much as a thought for their own health. The care was going to have to be shared
over the next couple of weeks by the three of them and Hop Sing.
Hoss was soon back with the basin of water and a soft wash cloth
“It isn’t very cold, I’m afraid, Adam,” he said with a
little tone of dejection in his voice.
“Its the best I could get at the moment,” he said. He now watched as Adam carefully wet the
cloth sufficiently in the tepid water and then wrung out the excess so that it
was only just damp.
“You go and get some sleep, big guy,” Adam said to Hoss as
he gently laid the cloth of Joe’s heated forehead. The coolness of the cloth seemed to have
some effect though, as they watched Joe’s closed eyelids flutter. For a few seconds it looked as though
Joe might be trying to wake up. His
eyelids fluttered a few more times and Joe moved his head back and forth on the
pillow a few times. A few
more soothing words from Adam, and Joe appeared to slip back into the world of
sleep once again.
Adam looked up at Hoss and saw that the big man needed to be sure that his
little brother was going to be alright before he even thought about having some
rest.
“Go get some sleep, Hoss,” Adam said gently. For once, Hoss just nodded his head in
agreement and headed towards the door, stealing a last glance at the sleeping
boy in the bed before he finally exited and went to his own bedroom.
For the next three hours or so, it looked as though Adam’s care
was indeed doing the trick to keep Joe nice and calm in his sleep. He wasn’t sure about the fever
though. Even with all the cool
compresses he had applied, the fever still not had abated and if anything had
increased in temperature over the last hour or so. Adam now noticed that the warm water was
having no effect on the fever anymore.
He got up and took the basin downstairs, ready to refill it with some
cooler water.
Adam had refilled the basin and was about halfway up the stairs when he
and the rest of the Cartwright household heard the blood-curdling scream that
came from Joe’s room.
Adam almost dropped the basin of water at the scream and managed to soak
the legs of his trousers. He
didn’t even stop to worry about that, though, as he, Hoss and Ben all
raced into the room to see what had upset the boy so much.
Ben had been in a fitful sleep in his room when he heard the
scream. He was instantly awake and
racing towards his injured son’s room. He saw Adam on the stairs with a basin
of water and Hoss was coming out of his bedroom as well.
All three entered the room and saw Joe tossing and turning violently in
the bed. It looked as though he was
trying to fight of someone or something.
Every now and then there would be some incoherent words uttered. Some of them sounded like
“Keep away” and “Don’t…. please,
don’t”.
Ben was immediately sitting on the spot where Adam had been. He reached over, and being as gentle as
he could, he pulled the boy into his embrace. Just as Ben managed to put his
arms around the trembling boy though, it was almost as if Joe was trying to get
away from Ben.
In his sleep, the confused boy was pulled at Ben’s arms and
telling him to leave him alone. It
was soon obvious to all in the room that the rising fever had trapped the
injured boy in his own nightmares, making them come to life once again. He was trying to fight the very people that
loved and cared for him so much.
Ben was determined to be there for the boy, though, even if he pushed
him away at first. After what
the boy had been through, he supposed it was only natural for the boy to dread
human contact of any sort. Ben once
again wrapped his arms around the struggling boy and held on somewhat tighter
this time. Joe continued to
utter words like “Stop it” and “Keep away” again, but
the struggles soon became weaker.
Whether it was because Joe recognized the security and warmth of his
father or whether it was purely due to physical exhaustion, the boy ceased to
try and get away. Now the boy lay
in his father’s arms and fell back into a restless sleep. He still muttered incoherent words, but
they soon faded to nothing more than occasional moans and then finally into
silence as sleep gained a stronger hold on the his mind.
“You boys go down and get some coffee and breakfast,” Ben
now said to Adam and Hoss. The dawn
was just starting to peak through the curtains in Joe’s room, signalling
the beginning of a new day. He
didn’t intend to send the boys out to work today. Apart from the lack of sleep of both of
them, there wasn’t much work to do back at home over the next week or so.
Downstairs, in the kitchen, Hop Sing had just started to make breakfast
when Hoss and Adam arrived at the table.
The little Cantonese man made sure that there were two pots of strong
black coffee on the table this morning.
He also made a third, smaller pot, for Ben and a small bowl of broth for
Joe, in case the boy awoke shortly.
They needed to keep up the boy’s nourishment if they wanted his
injuries to heal well.
Adam and Hoss were sitting at the table, not really saying much, when
there was a knock at the front door.
Adam wondered who would be knocking this early in the morning. Maybe it
was Doc Martin, back to check on his patient.
Adam and Hoss were both surprised when Sheriff Roy Coffee greeted them
from the other side of the door “Mornin’ boys,” he said, as
cheerily as possible.
“How’s Joe today?” he asked in a more subdued tone.
“As well as can be expected, Roy,” Adam said with little
emotion in his voice.
“You’re out here early though, Roy,” Adam said now,
suddenly curious about the lawman’s early visit. Maybe he had information about
Joe’s kidnappers.
“Just came out to talk to your Pa about those other fellows
wanted for Joe’s kidnapping,” Roy said. “And to check how Joe was
going,” he added genuinely.
Joe held a special place in his heart, and it angered him greatly that
such an unjust and inhuman thing had happened to such an energetic and caring
boy.
“Pa’s a might busy with Joe right now, Roy,” Adam
said not wanting to disturb Ben from his needed duties upstairs. “I can give him a message, though,
if you like”
“That would be good if you could, Adam. I feel right guilty that I don’t
have much more information for your family. Just came out to tell you that Griffiths
still refuses to tell anybody who his partners were. I have tried to find any clues that I
can from him, but unless he gives me a name, I’m at a standstill for the
time being. Sorry to be the bearer
of bad news,” Roy said, as he nervously played with his hat in his hands. “I wish I had better new to give
you and your family.”
“We know that you are doing your best, Roy,” Hoss
said. He meant what he said, but he
didn’t know how his father was going to react to the face that the man
who had done this to Joe was still being free. Futhermore, what was such information
going to do to Little Joe?
“Little Joe probably won’t be able to give you any
information for a few days, Roy,” Adam now said, trying to clear the
air. “He is still in a lot of
pain and hasn’t fully been able to talk to us yet about what
happened. He started to run a fever
this morning. Doc Martin says he
will be back out later on today.”
“Well, give my regards to your father and especially to Little
Joe for me. I haven’t given
up on this, Adam. I aim to get the
animal that did this to Little Joe,” Roy said, as he exited through the
front door.
“I’ll let you know as soon as Paul says its alright for Joe
to talk to you, Roy,” Adam said finally and closed the front door behind
the Sheriff.
“What are we going to tell Little Joe?” Hoss blurted out,
not knowing any other way than to just say it straight.
“I think it best that we don’t, not at the moment,
Hoss,” Adam replied honestly “I don’t think our boy is in any
condition for information like that at the moment. Hopefully he’s still asleep. I suggest we tell Pa and let Joe know
when the doctor thinks he can handle such things. He needs to worry about getting himself
well again before wondering about where the man is that did it.”
Hoss nodded his head in agreement, and they both headed up the stairs
towards Joe’s room.
What they didn’t know was that Joe had awoken not long after they left
to go downstairs for breakfast.
As they climbed the stairs to his room, Little Joe was lying still in
his father’s arms, but with his eyes closed, just enjoying the security
and protection.
A few minutes earlier
upstairs ………………….
Ben had been thinking to himself about the last few days when he felt
his young son moving about on the bed.
He looked down, but allowed the young man to wake on his own and get his
bearings before overwhelming him with questions.
As Joe slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his
father’s familiar face. He
blinked a few times and tried to sit up.
The moment only brought a grimace to his face, and when he tried to
smile at his father about trying to move too quickly, even that caused him pain
as his muscles protested enormously about the physical efforts of moving.
There wasn’t a space on his body that didn’t hurt at the
moment. His eyes felt gritty and
sore as though he hadn’t been to sleep for days. He knew, however, by the look on his
father’s face and the stiffness that existed in his body that he had been
asleep for a long time.
“Hello, son,” Ben said gently.
Joe tried to reply with a hello of his own, but the words were caught
in his dry, sore throat. His put
his hand to the rope burns around his neck and remembered what the rope had
felt like, choking him. He
motioned for something to drink.
Ben reached over without moving from his position and brought a cup of
water to his son’s dry lips.
Joe took it slow at first due to the pain he felt when swallowing. The water felt good and soothed his raw
throat. He knew that he
shouldn’t drink too much in case he would get sick from it and withdrew
when he thought he had had enough.
Ben saw his son’s withdrawal and placed the half-filled cup back
on the nightstand.
“Hello, Pa,” Joe croaked out through his raw throat as he
laid his curly head on Ben’s chest. He closed his eyes and tried to
just rest without all the memories flooding back into his mind.
Ben could see that his son was still hurting both emotionally and
physically. He knew that Joe would
need a good deal of time before he would be ready to talk about what happened
to him when he was taken. Ben was
content just to let the boy rest;
there would be enough time for talk later. At the moment Joe just needed to heal
his physical injuries and then worry about the emotional scars that might be
left behind. The fever was
still present and it was still a cause for concern for Ben. It hadn’t risen too much, but it
also hadn’t decreased, despite the family’s vigilant attempts to
cool Joe down with the cool compresses.
This is how Adam and Hoss found the two of them as they entered
Joe’s bedroom. Both them
smiled and thought how content they looked at the moment. Joe still looked asleep and because of
this Adam decided to tell Ben about Roy’s information. Joe had heard his brothers enter the
room, but he didn’t make any indication to them that he had awoken up just
a short time ago.
“Roy was just here, Pa,” Adam said in a whisper so as not
to wake his still sleeping brother.
“Said that Griffiths won’t talk. They still don’t have any idea
about where the other men are,” he said.
It was at this comment that Joe’s eyes suddenly came open. He couldn’t hide the fear
that he felt thinking that somewhere out there, Butch Thomas was still alive
and well. Probably waiting and
watching. Waiting until the right
moment to take him away from his family again. After all, Joe was the only one who knew
his true identity at the moment.
Adam immediately saw the reaction to his words and regretted that he
hadn’t checked first that the boy was truly asleep.
“Sorry, Pa, I didn’t realise he was awake,” Adam
said, as he still watched Joe to try and gauge the boy’s state of mind.
Ben could feel the small tremors that were now running through his
youngest son’s shoulders. The
boy now made an active effort to try and move away from his father and hide the
fear on his face from his family.
His throat became dry again from the mere thought of Butch Thomas, still
free to roam about as he pleased and torture his mind to no end.
“Its alright son, your brothers and I are here. Nobody is going to hurt you again, I
promise,” Ben said in soothing but firm tones so that his words held the
meaning he intended for his son.
Joe now turned painfully to his opposite side, determined not to let
his family see his distress about the information he had just heard. He ignored all their attempts to
reassure him that everything would be alright. Deep down he knew that he would never
have peace of mind with Butch Thomas still out there free.
Hop Sing now arrived in the room with the broth he had prepared for
Little Joe. He could see that the
boy was upset about something, and Ben told him about Adam’s untimely
message from Roy Coffee.
“Boy need eat,” the little oriental man stated and moved
over to the opposite side of the bed so that Joe could see him.
“Everybody go downstairs for coffee. Hop Sing take care of Little Joe,”
Hop Sing now said, sensing there was a lot more to Joe’s sullen
mood.
“Alright, boys, lets go downstairs for that coffee. I sure could use a cup. Hop Sing, I will be right back when I
have finished, though,” Ben said, indicating that he had no intentions of
leaving his injured son for more than was necessary. Ben, though, saw the need in the
little oriental man’s eyes that said Hop Sing wanted to find out what was
going on inside Little Joe. From
past experience, he knew that Joe was likely to open up to the little servant
before any of the other family members.
Ben, Adam and Hoss walked out of the bedroom but then stole themselves
just outside the door to try and catch a word or two of the conversation about
to take place in the room.
Hop Sing now placed the bowl of broth on the bedside table, determined
to feed Joe’s tortured soul before his empty stomach.
“Mao shiez co xen Tajoe?” Hop Sing now said to Joe who
still had his face turned away towards the wall. (Why Lil’ Joe so sad?)
The men waiting on the other side of the bedroom doorway had no idea
what Hop Sing had just said. They
were even more surprised when the answer came back in his native tongue. For years they had all suspected that
Joe could understand Hop Sing’s tirades better than he let on. Now it was being confirmed with the
fluent and coherent Cantonese words coming in Joe’s own voice.
“Seng wix dao benqas,” Joe replied in a whisper. (Not
sad ……. scared!)
“Scared of what?” Hop Sing now asked in English.
Ben and the others outside were dismayed by Joe’s admission, but
put their ears closer to the door so that they could hear the reason for his
fear. Although they had a general
idea, they were hoping that Hop Sing’s probing might come up with more
clues to try and find the men responsible.
“You don’t understand, Hop Sing, nobody does,” Joe
said with an edge of frustration in his voice. The boy now turned to face the other
person in the move. The movement
caused him to cry out as his sore and bruised ribs protested ever so loudly.
“Tell Hop Sing how to help,” Hop Sing asked, noting the
efforts the boy was making to talk, but noticing the fatigue still etched on
his young face and the fever spots still present on his cheeks.
“You can’t help, Hop Sing. That’s just it. Nobody can fight this but me. At the moment I just don’t see the
reason for fighting. I’ll be
still lying in this bed waiting for those men to come back. And when they come, they will try and
take me away again, maybe for good this time. Maybe it would be easier just to let
them come. I hurt all over, Hop Sing. I can’t even take a breath
without coughing from the tightness in my chest,” Joe said, trying to
hold back the tears of frustration that were threatening.
“Father and brothers and Hop Sing here to make sure nobody hurt
you, Lil Joe,” Hop Sing answered, trying to reassure the boy’s
fears about the men coming back to hurt him. Ben and his sons nodded their heads in
agreement, wishing they, too, could say some comforting words to the distraught
boy.
“Couldn’t stop them last time,” Joe said in an
uninterested voice and then proceeded to roll painfully back over onto his
side, signalling that he no longer wished to continue the conversation. Joe closed his eyes and welcomed the
arms of sleep that reached out to him.
Even as he slept now, Hop Sing could see the thin film of sweat
reappearing on his fevered brow. He
spent the next couple of moments placing the cool cloth back on the boy’s
forehead. He wanted
desperately to help heal the boy’s mind and heart as well as his
body.
“You come back in now, Mr Cartwright, and take care of boy. Hop Sing bring you coffee” Hop
Sing now said, as he looked up with a grin. He knew that the others were waiting
outside the doorway the whole time but only chose now to let them know it.
“How did you know we was there, Hop Sing?” Hoss said in
confusion. He was sure that the
three of them had kept relatively quiet during the whole thing. He was sure that Hop Sing wouldn’t
have been able to see them from his position in the room. Just how did he know that they were all
listening?
“Hop Sing not be fooled, Mr Hoss,” Hop Sing said with a
smile and then went downstairs to worry about the coffee he had promised to
bring.
Ben walked back over to the bed, running Joe’s words back through
his head over and over again. He
wanted the boy to wake up and talk to him about what was bothering him. He felt guilty about Joe’s accusation
that the kidnappers had been able to take him away without the family being
there to prevent it. It hurt him
deeply to think that he and his boys hadn’t been there to help the boy in
his time of need. He would somehow
have to prove to the boy that he, Adam and Hoss would do everything in their
power to protect him, no matter what.
Adam and Hoss chose to go outside and talk about things whilst
attending to some of the daily chores in the yard. They knew that there were
other hands able to do the work, but it kept their minds on something else for
a time. They both spoke briefly
about their own concerns for Joe’s health and peace of mind. They both promised to talk to the boy
when he was better, too.
Doc Martin arrived later that afternoon and had been informed of
Joe’s negative attitude before climbing the stairs. He promised Ben to talk to the boy also
about his fears and concerns about the kidnappers coming back to take him away
again. When he got to Joe’s
room however, talk was the last thing on Paul’s mind as he surveyed the
scene before him. He could
see the fever that Ben had told him to have started the previous night.
However, the doctor was now concerned with the rise in temperature that
had occurred in a few short hours.
The boy was definitely much sicker, and when Paul put his hand on the
boy’s forehead, Joe could scarcely open his eyes in response due to the
weakened state he found himself in.
He briefly opened them, but then quickly closed them tight to shut out
the light that shone into them and then appeared to fall back asleep, exhausted
even from that slight effort.
“Ben, we need to get this fever down and quickly,” Paul
said, as he went about setting his medical bag down and searching through it
for what he needed.
“This is going to be most unpleasant, but it should work,”
Paul now said, as he held up a small tube of medicine.
“You’re going to have to hold him, Hoss,” Paul said
now motioning for the two brothers to play their part in helping Joe.
“Hold his body very still. I
still don’t want him moving around with those bruised ribs and that
injured leg of his.”
“Adam, I want you to force his mouth open so that I can squeeze
some of these drops into his mouth,” Paul said, walking towards his
sleeping patient.
“Is that quinine, Paul?” Ben asked, fully knowing the
medicine’s uses.
“Yes, it is, Ben, and you know how he is going to react to the
vile taste, but we need to get that fever down. His body is already exhausted and weak
from his injuries. We can’t
risk him getting any worse or the fever climbing too high.”
Hoss and Adam both took a deep breath to get ready for the awful task
they were about to become involved in.
Both of them knew that the medicine was necessary, but both of them felt
that they were somehow betraying their little brother by subjecting him to such
horrific remedies.
Hoss firmly held Joe’s legs onto the bed, mindful of not touching
the bandaged area. Adam put his hands gently but firmly on other side of his
younger brother’s fevered face. Adam could feel the heat in Joe’s
skin and prayed that the quinine would indeed bring relief that was
needed. He now pulled Joe’s
mouth open sufficiently for the doctor to be able to drop the medicine into.
Joe could feel someone touching his face and tried to bring his hand up
to see who it was. His eyes remained closed, but his forehead turned downwards
with a frown when he found feel someone now restraining those hands. He immediately opened his eyes and
began panicking that he was back under the control of Butch Thomas and his
men. He could now see,
though, that it was his own family that were restraining him. This confused him even more and started
to make him angry.
“What are you doing?” he demanded in a voice that was no
more than a whisper. “Let me go!” he said in
a louder but croakier voice. “Pa, tell them to let me go,” he said,
now trying to turn his face towards his father.
Ben was at the base of the bed, and the sound of Joe’s pleas to let
him go were almost ripping his heart out, but he knew that the doctor had to
give him the medicine.
“It will be all over in a minute, Joe,” Ben said, trying to
calm his son down. Paul knew that
he wouldn’t have much longer
and so quickly moved towards the bed and without so much as telling his
patient what he was about to do, dropped four drops of the foul medicine into
Joe’s open mouth.
Adam was forced to let go as Joe immediately tried to turn onto his
side and spit out the vile taste.
Most of the medicine had managed to slip down his raw throat. What he could taste was the bitter
aftertaste that the quinine had.
The taste made Joe almost gag until he was sick to his stomach. Paul brought a glass of water to
Joe’s lips and offered a small mouthful to wash away the medicine, but
the rebelling action of his stomach quickly brought the water back up again
onto the bed clothes.
Joe now laid back, exhausted, tired, sick to his stomach from the
quinine, hot from the fever and most of all, angry. He didn’t understand why his
family was doing this to him after he had been through such a rough time. His leg was throbbing almost insistently
and he could scarcely keep from crying out at the pain sometimes.
“Would you like something for the pain, Joe?” Paul asked,
as he saw his young patient grimace and grit his teeth from his leg wound.
“I don’t want anything from you
……………. any of you,” Joe said hotly and
turned his face away from his family.
The exhaustion and fever soon took its toll, though, and Joe was soon
drifting back off into an uneasy sleep.
His forehead was becoming damp again from the fever.
“Adam, you lift him off while Hoss and I change the bed
linen,” Ben said now as he watched his son sleep. He understood his son’s
anger and resentment, but hoped that when the boy was feeling better he would
understand the steps needed to be taken to make him well again.
“Don’t worry, Ben, the quinine will help, and he will be
well again in no time,” Paul said, as he placed a comforting hand on
Ben’s shoulder.
“He’s weak and in pain, he didn’t really mean what he
said.”
“I know he’s hurting, Paul. That’s what makes me so
angry. To think that the animals
that did this are still free out there while Joe is laying in bed sick and in
pain. I swear to God, Paul, I
wouldn’t know what I would do if I came face to face with those men right
now. I try to tell myself that justice will prevail and that everything will
work out alright. But where’s
the justice in this for Joe? How
can I look him in the eye and make him believe what I say when I don’t
really believe it myself?” Ben said with sadness in his voice.
“Come on, old friend, let’s make him more
comfortable,” Paul said. Adam
lifted his still sleeping brother from his bed and went about changing
Joe’s nightshirt while Ben and the others changed the sheets and pillows.
“He will probably sleep for quite a while with the fever,
Ben. He won’t feel very much
like eating, unfortunately, but at least try to keep the water and fluids up to
him. Water, Milk, Juice, any
liquids to replace what he is losing through the fever. He should start to improve by the end of
tomorrow. He will still be weak,
but by then, hopefully, the boy will feel like eating a little to help regain
his strength. You will have to be
patient, but also vigilant and firm when he refuses. I will come back out tomorrow with
something to help him get back on his feet a little,” Paul said with a
wink. He wanted to leave this
little idea as a surprise to the whole family until tomorrow.
“See you tomorrow Ben.
And try not to worry too much,” Paul said, knowing that Ben
wouldn’t stop worrying until Joe was back to his old self again.
Hoss saw the doctor to the door, while Adam and Ben settled Joe back
into the freshly made bed.
***********************************************************
The rest of the night panned out pretty slowly for the Cartwright
family. The eldest three kept a
vigil over the youngest. They
all sighed in relief at about 1.00 am when it seemed that the medication had
done its job just like Paul Martin said it would. Joe’s fever finally started to
decrease, and he was almost cool to the touch by dawn’s early light.
The decrease in temperature saw Joe finally drift off into a healing
sleep. His head was now deeper in
the pillow and his breathing became more relaxed and even. The angry redness in his leg had now
subsided somewhat, allowing the full extent of bruising to show through the
skin. The stitches held in place
well, and the wound looked very clean. The only question would be
about how much effort it would take Joe to regain full mobility once he was
given permission to put any weight back on the leg.
Through most of the next day, Joe seemed to be gaining some strength
back. He was able to sit up
for short periods of time in bed without tiring so easily. He was eating a little more and drinking
more fluids, which were encouraging signs for his family.
The signs that weren’t encouraging included the sullen mood that
seemed to engulf him the whole time.
He jumped from fright at the slightest unsuspected noises and he always
had a wary look in his eyes when someone entered the room. It was as if he were expecting somebody
else other than his family to walk in.
Ben and his sons noted the mood and cautiousness without worrying Joe
about it. They would wait until
Paul Martin returned later in the afternoon to discuss the matter with him.
By the time Paul did pulled up outside in the yard in his buggy, Joe
had been asleep for about two hours.
It was late afternoon, and the sun was just beginning to set behind the
hills. Paul got out of his buggy
and, in addition to carrying his black medical bag, he carried two
strange-looking sticks in the other hand.
Ben looked curiously at the contraptions as Paul made his way into the
living room and set his bag down.
He still held onto the poles and gave Ben a grin of pride when he looked
up and saw his old friend’s curiosity at what he held.
“What have you got there, Paul? ” Ben now asked. His two sons were standing behind him,
awaiting the reply.
“Are they crutches for Joe?” Adam now asked, having seen
crude forms in the past in a few places that he had travelled to.
“They are indeed, Adam,” Paul said telling himself that he
should have realised that a well-educated man like Adam would be able to guess
at what they were. “These are
hopefully going to see your young brother back on his feet sooner than he would
normally, without such help” the doctor explained.
“How do they work, Paul?” Ben asked, a little dubious about
such things being trialled on his son without him knowing much about them.
“You put your arms over these cross pieces, like this,
Ben,” Paul said, as he crudely tried to show Ben how to work the crutches
without breaking them. He had had
them made especially for somebody with Joe’s slight stature in mind, so
he didn’t want to put all of his weight on them and risk breaking them
before Little Joe even got a chance to use them.
“They will help Joe keep his weight off that injured leg. He will be able to move around a lot
more freely than he would be able to without them. Don’t get me wrong, though, he will
still be limited in some of the activities he will be able to do, but hopefully
they will give him some hope as to his leg healing properly,” Paul now
explained.
Paul now became more serious as he prepared to climb the stairs and see
how his young patient was fairing.
“How is Joseph anyway, Ben?” Paul asked, as Ben followed him
up to his son’s room.
“That’s why I am so happy to see you, Paul,” Ben
began as they entered the room.
They were not surprised to see Joe still asleep. “Lately he seems so withdrawn from
the rest of the family. I know he
has been sick and in a lot of pain, but over the last day or so, as he has
begun showing signs of healing, his self-esteem and emotional seem to have
taken a dive. He
doesn’t want to talk to anybody, he barely picks at the food that we
bring him on the plate and he always seems to be stealing looks towards the
window and door every now and then as if to make sure that a stranger
isn’t going to enter the room.
He appears very afraid and won’t open the window in the slightest
or draw the curtains to let the light in the room.”
“Well, some of what you say is to be expected, Ben,” Paul
said making a mental note of everything that Ben said. “I suspect he will have some
issues about being away from his family and in particular about being in this
house even for quite some time to come.
He was taken from his family and home by force, and it is going to take
some time for him to get over that.
The eating is a little worrisome and hopefully, between us, all we can
find a solution so that he gets the nutrition that he needs to heal fully. I think the insecurity and lack of
confidence may last longer than I first suspected,” Paul now added. “Let’s take a look at him
and see if we can get him to open up to us a little, shall we?”
Paul walked over to the bed and sat facing Joe, who was laying turned
on his side. Ben sat on the opposite side.
“Joseph,” he said softly at first and gave the boy a gentle
shake with a hand on his shoulder.
When it appeared that he didn’t hear or didn’t want to hear
Paul tried a little harder this time “Little Joe,” he said a little
louder and the shake was a little firmer.
Joe slowly opened his eyes and seemed confused at first. That was until that feeling that someone
stranger was suddenly in the room had passed, and then his eyes took on that
timid appearance again as he darted his gaze around the room as though
startled. It took a few seconds for
his brain to register that the person sitting on the bed wasn’t a
stranger at all.
He tried to shake the remaining fog from his mind and attempted to roll
over a little and pull himself up into a sitting position. He grunted a little with the effort and
then found he couldn’t roll over too far due to his father’s
position on the other side.
“Hi, Doc,” he said with a small voice. “Pa?”.
“I’m here, son,” Ben said, reading that his son
needed to know that he was in the room.
“How are you feeling, young man?” Paul now asked while
trying to gauge Joe’s every facial movement for a deception or playing
down of any pain he might be really feeling. Truth was, though, Joe didn’t try
and hide his grunts of pain or his winces that escaped his lips while he moved
about on the bed.
“A little sore, but mostly fine,” Joe answered after half a
minute or so. He took the
glass of water Ben offered and drank the contents gratefully.
“Let’s just take a look at those bruises and your leg and
see, shall we,” Paul now said.
Joe sat stoic through the whole episode. He didn’t say anything to the
doctor about being poked and prodded and only winced a little when the touching
became painful or the doctor found a tender spot. He just waited patiently until the
doctor was finished his work.
“That leg is healing nicely, Joe, but it will still be a few
weeks before you can put your full weight back on it,” Paul now advised
him. All the time his mind was
really asking what the quiet, withdrawn mood in Joe was telling him about how
his patient was feeling.
“Doesn’t look like I will be getting out of here in a hurry
then does it?” Joe replied with a question. His voice betrayed him, though, as he
sounded barely interested in the subject of him being allowed out of bed. It was almost like the reply was
rehearsed before Paul and his father came into the room.
“Ah, that’s where you are wrong, young man,” Paul
said with a grin and motioned for Ben to pass him the surprise that he had
carried into the room for Joe.
“I’ve got something here that will see you getting about
just fine before your leg is fully healed.”
Joe looked at the doctor as though he didn’t really believe him,
but didn’t say anything to the contrary. “What are you going to give
me…….. wings?” he said in an almost sarcastic tone. He just wanted to be left alone, and the
sooner the better.
“No, not quite, but something better,” Paul said, trying to
keep the tone of the conversation cheerful and light. “I am going to give you artificial
legs, Joe,” Paul said now holding up the wooden crutches for him to
see. Both the doctor and Ben sat
quietly for a moment and waited to see what Joe’s reaction to the new
devices would be.
Joe did look at them, saying nothing. He looked them up and down and knew what
they were. He had heard about them
being used by other children who couldn’t use their own legs to
walk. He had even seen them
being used on an occasion or two.
He looked back at the doctor and then at his father, knowing that they
were waiting for him to say something about them. They wanted him to be happy about them
being a gift. Joe had other
thoughts about them.
“Oh, just great,” Joe said in a less than impressed tone of
voice. “If I don’t kill
myself by trying to get around on them, I’ll probably get beaten to death
by others in town, telling me that Virginia City is no place for a damned
cripple”. He turned his face away, a little cranky a himself for being
such a baby about the whole thing and trying to hide the tears that were
welling up in his eyes.
Ben was half-tempted to say something to his son about his choice of
language but knew that a reprimand would only see the boy slip further into his
self-induced state of depression.
“I’m sorry, Joe,” Paul now said gently, trying to
pull Joe out of his own self-pity.
“People won’t laugh or make fun of you, though. I just thought you could use something
to help you get outside of these four walls in the next couple of weeks. I know how you must be itching to get
out of that bed by now,” he added.
For the first time since Paul had come into the room, the fear was now
nakedly evident on Joe’s face as he turned back to face them after
hearing the words “leave his room”. His mind was telling him that the
only place safe and secure at the moment was his own room. If he stayed in his room, nobody could
take him away from his family again.
If he stayed in his room, he could see people coming and going and
control the situation at hand. If
he left his room, that’s when things would change and go beyond his
control. That’s when people
like Butch Thomas came into his life.
No, he didn’t want to leave his room, not ever.
Ben and Paul saw the fear on Joe’s face and now knew some of the
thoughts in Joe’s mind. What
the truth really was behind the sarcasm and unkind words. They were coming from somebody who
feared a man. A man that had taken
him away from his family and savagely beat him. A man that he had been told was still
free and his whereabouts unknown.
“Are you afraid that the man who did this to you will come back,
Joseph?” Ben now asked, putting his hand on the trembling boy’s
shoulder. He caught a glimpse of
the slight nod from his son before Joe buried his head in his father’s
chest and cried out his frustrations.
He didn’t mean to sound like such a baby in front of them. He didn’t want them knowing how
scared he was. He couldn’t
help it, though. Every time a gust
of wind blew the curtain up in his room, he found himself wanting to dive under
the covers or under the bed in case it was Thomas coming back.
Paul and Ben waited until Joe was a little more under control before
continuing their discussion about the crutches. “Joe, you just take your
time with these. Use them when you
are ready. They may take a
little getting used to at first and a little practice to master. But once you have had a few turns, you
should do fine. I want you to
keep the weight off that leg of yours for the next two weeks at least. Hopefully by then, the stitches will be
ready to come out and I will let you know after that when you can walk freely
again.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Joe said, sheepishly trying to apologize for
his weakness without actually saying the words.
“I’ll see you in two days, Joe, until then you just worry
about taking care of yourself. I am
sure that your family will keep you safe,” Paul said, trying to reassure
the boy.
“Ben, can I talk to you outside for a minute?” Paul now
asked.
“I’ll be right back, Joseph,” Ben said to his
son. “We can talk in a
minute.”
Joe now sat back against the pillows whilst the doctor and his father
went outside to talk about things that they didn’t want him to hear. He just stared at the ceiling and
tried to concentrate on keeping his mind blank and keep it from wandering
again. He didn’t want to tell
his father about the nightmare he had been having shortly before Ben had come
into the room with the doctor.
It was the same one again. The one where Butch Thomas came back and took
him away from his family and home.
He didn’t know how to stop it from coming back again and again.
“What are we going to do, Paul?” Ben now asked, as the two
men descended the stairs.
Hoss overheard the words and was concerned for his younger
brother’s welfare.
“What’s wrong, Pa?
Anything I can do?” he asked.
“Yes, just go and sit with your younger brother until I see Doc
Martin off, would you, Hoss?” Ben said to his large son.
“I know its going to be a long and difficult process, Ben,”
Paul began. “We are just
going to have to try and coax the boy out of his shell slowly. Little bit by little bit. Now, the
hardest thing I am going to ask you to do from today onwards is to give him
some space to re-find his sense of independency.”
“At the moment he is feeling very vulnerable and afraid, I
know. But, for the next couple of
nights, I want you, Hoss and Adam to sleep in your own rooms. I don’t mean don’t check on
him every now and then to see if he is alright and get what he needs. But I want him to start relying on
himself again, just a little.
Hopefully, once the ball gets rolling and he realises that he must
depend on himself some of the time, he will just naturally return to the old
Joe Cartwright that we have come to love and miss so much. Its going to take willpower for you and
your boys, Ben, but for Joe’s sake, you have to try,” Paul
explained.
“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do, Paul?”
Ben said, hating the idea of not being there for Joe’s full recovery.
“No, I am not sure, Ben, but I have seen enough today to know
that we need to help that boy find his mischievous self again. I miss his smile and laughter. Don’t you?” Paul said
teasingly to his old friend.
“More than you know,” Ben answered truthfully.
Paul Martin now left the Ponderosa in his buggy and headed back towards
Virginia City. As he secured his
buggy and horse for the day, he found himself coming face to face with Butch
Thomas. Paul didn’t
know the man, but politely said hello when he saw him standing on the edge of
the verandah to his office.
“Hello, friend,” came Paul’s friendly reply. He had no idea that he was saying hello
to the man who had brought so much pain and misery to the young patient he had
just examined.
“Hello, doctor,” Thomas replied as he casually blew a ring
of smoke from his cigar.
Thomas had come back to town two days after Little Joe was found. He was curious to know just how his
young victim was faring. When
he hadn’t heard about a funeral for the youngest Cartwright member, he
smiled to himself and wondered if the boy wasn’t made of a little
sturdier stuff than he first thought. “Say, Doc, are you the man
who has been tending that hurt young fellow?” Thomas now asked, trying to
sound as harmless as possible.
Paul now stopped to talk to the man “You mean Little Joe
Cartwright?” Paul asked, wondering why this man was showing an interest
in the boy.
“Just a terrible thing that I heard happened to that boy,
that’s all, and I just wanted to ask if he was going to be
alright,” Thomas said giving his best naïve smile.
“Yes, is was a terrible thing that happened,” Paul said,
relaxing a little now at the man’s concern for Joe’s welfare. “I don’t think there would
be a man or woman in this town who doesn’t have a bad word to say about
those fellows, wherever they are.
Joe is recovering, to answer your question. He still has a long way to go before healing
fully, but he is making progress.
Good day, Mr………,” Paul said, now curious about
the stranger’s name.
“Mr Smith,” Thomas answered straight away, trying to ease
the doctor’s raised sense of curiosity. “Mr Bill Smith.”
“Mr Smith” Paul said and then went into his office to carry
on with his daily tasks.
Thomas smiled inwardly to himself.
“Maybe there’s one man in this town, Doc,” he
commented to himself and now walked away from the building, trying to figure
out when to make his next move where the boy was concerned.
***********************************************************
Back at the Ponderosa, as painful as it was to him, Ben explained to
Hoss and Adam about how the doctor wanted to approach Joe’s fear. It was explained to them that Paul
wanted them to let Joe become a little more independent and slowly encourage
him deal with what had happened to him.
Hopefully, it would come to the point where Joe opened up to one of his
family, and then the true healing process could begin.
For the rest of the afternoon and most of that evening, Ben tried to encourage Joe
to come downstairs and join the family for the evening meal. He knew that his son was still hurting
in a lot of places and that Joe would need help first to manoeuvre the stairs
and then to manage to get to the table, but his family told him that they would
be there to support him both physically and mentally until he felt stronger.
The words seem to fall on deaf ears, though, as Joe pressed his lips
together into a fine line of refusal and shook his head with his answer. Inside his head, all he could hear
was the sound of his own voice, telling him what would happen if he left the security of his own
room. At least within such a
confined space he had control. If
he ventured downstairs into somewhere else, it would be just like back at the
abandoned shack, and things might occur that he didn’t have that control
over.
Ben and his boys sadly didn’t push Joe much harder about coming
downstairs. They reminded
themselves that they would have to keep trying over the next few days. Usually, when Joe was recovering
from an illness or injury, the family together with Doc Martin had to use all
sorts of threats to keep him in bed until he was healed enough. Now, when they thought he was recovering
physically enough to be allowed out of bed, Joe was withdrawing into himself
even more.
It took all of their willpower to sit downstairs with Joe upstairs on
his own. Ben forced himself to
complete the evening meal without checking on his youngest son. The feelings though became overwhelming
once they had retired to the living room for coffee, and he went up to see if
Joe was alright. When he opened the
door, a large lump suddenly became lodged in his throat as he looked in and saw
his son curled up on his side, sound asleep.
Ben walked over and softly caressed Joe’s cheek, as many thoughts
ran through his mind. He
wanted to protect this child with all of his heart, but Joe kept wanting to
push his family away. How could they
make him see that they were only to help only him? How could he make Joe see how much his
family needed him to get well again?
Adam and Hoss went to bed before their father, but they, too,
couldn’t resist the urge to check on the youngest. Both of them found Joe in a similar pose
as Ben had and promised that they would help their brother as much as they
could to get over his terrible ordeal.
Both of them had a hate for the men who did this burning within them.
Ben doused the light in the lantern in his room and settled down to
sleep. The three of them had
promised to check on Joe at least once during the night. There was a tiredness
they all felt from the burden of looking after Joe, but a burden that none of
them intended to shirk. They all
just wished there was something more that they could do for Little Joe. They would do anything, feel the pain he
was in, relive the nightmares he was caught in each night, so long as they
could have their son and brother back like before.
As the light went out, Ben failed to see a puff of smoke from a cigar
rise into the air as a shadow sat on his horse, cloaked in the darkness of the
night and shielded from view. It
was now time for him to leave his victim a little reminder.
All four occupants of the household slept without being aware of the
imminent danger that was lurking outside the house.
Butch Thomas now dismounted from his horse and silently crept along the
side of the house. He didn’t
know which window belonged to the boy’s bedroom, but he spotted one and
climbed up onto the roof and started to go about prising it open very quietly.
He tried to look through the slightly opaque glass to see whose room it
was, but his view was blocked further by two thin white curtains. He pulled out his pocket knife and
slid the blade along the window sill until he found the latch. Once the blade hit the steel
latch, Thomas worked his knife back and forth against the flimsy piece of metal
until it finally gave way. There
was a small amount of noise made for which he cursed himself, but after waiting
for a few seconds, he was satisfied enough that whoever was in the bedroom, was
unaware of his presence.
He now carefully and silently slid the bottom window panel up to allow
him access to the room. He put one
leg over the window sill and then the other, ducking his head as he entered the
room. He looked over and saw a
large single bed across the other side of the room. He got a reasonably good look at the
sleeping occupant from behind and grinned devilishly as he could scarcely
believe his luck about being in the right room on the first attempt.
Joe was turned on his side still with his back facing Thomas. The moonlight coming through the window
was enough for Thomas to get a glimpse of curly brown hair and recognize the
figure in the bed as Little Joe.
He walked around the other side of the bed and now looked down at the
sleeping boy as his father Ben had done so earlier in the evening. It took all of his willpower now to stop
from waking the boy up and making his presence known. He wanted to see the boy’s naked
fear so bad it almost hurt, but he reminded himself that there would be plenty
of time later to let the kid know he was around. The idea he had for tonight would ensure
that Little Joe knew he had been in the room.
Butch now reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small
object. The dim light in the
room revealed the item to be one of the bullets that had fallen from the pistol
onto the floor when they had played Russian Roulette back at the shack. He knew that Joe would recognize
it once he saw it, but he wanted to conceal its presence until the right
moment.
He looked around at the items in the room, looking for the right hiding
place for his little surprise, when his eyes settled on a photograph of a woman
on the bedside table. Thomas looked
at the photograph and then back at Joe and surmised that it must have been the
boy’s mother. He had heard
from sources that Ben lived only with his three boys, so he didn’t know
what had happened to the woman in the photograph, but looking down at the boy,
the resemblance was unmistakable.
He looked a little more at the photograph and then the frame
itself. The frame was large
and thick and would provide the right hiding place for the bullet. When the boy went to look at the
photograph he would spot Thomas’s little present. Hopefully, the threats made to Joe
earlier about what would happen if he mentioned Thomas’s name would be
enough to scare the young man into keeping its message to himself. If anybody else in the family found it
before Joe did, they would only see it as a bullet.
Thomas now carefully concealed the bullet behind the frame’s
stand so that if the frame was moved in any way, the bullet would become
visible. He looked back at
the sleeping figure in the bed and then climbed out the window he came in
before anybody heard him creeping about.
He grinned to himself as he left, trying to figure out what the
boy’s reaction would be once he found his little surprise.
Adam rolled over in his sleep and opened an eye briefly, thinking that
he heard footsteps on the roof.
Normally he would have put it down to his little brother coming home
late from being in Virginia City, but he knew that at the moment Joe
couldn’t have been climbing about on the roof, even if he wanted to. The boy’s injuries would prevent
him from using his normal daredevil stunts of climbing through his bedroom
window.
Adam lay there for a few more seconds and then decided to get up and
check on Joe in case he needed anything. He pulled his robe on and opened the
door to Joe’s bedroom very quietly.
He had a lantern with him as he walked across to the bed and shone the
faint light over the sleeping figure in the bed.
Joe’s senses told himself that someone was in the room and he
opened his eyes and greeted his brother standing over him.
“Hey, Adam,” Joe said with a sleep thick voice.
“Hey, yourself,” Adam said with a smile as he watched Joe
almost fall back to sleep immediately.
“Need anything?” he added. He was trying to gauge if the boy was
hurting anywhere at the moment.
“Ummh no…….. no, thanks,” came the barely
audible reply before Joe succumbed once again to his body’s need to rest.
“Sleep well, little brother,” Adam whispered with
relief. At least it seemed that Joe
was sleeping without any nightmares tonight. It was the first time in a few
days that Joe hadn’t screamed out in the middle of the night in sheer
terror as he relived being taken away from his family.
Adam now tiptoed out of the room and reclosed the door, only to be
greeted by his father Ben just starting to come out of his own room. Adam had to smile at his
father. He knew his father
would find it difficult to give his youngest son the space that Paul had been
talking about.
Ben looked sheepishly at Adam and knew what his eldest son was thinking “I was just worried,
alright?” he said finally.
“Don’t worry, I was, too,” Adam admitted. “Thought I heard something on the
roof, so I got up to check on him.
Joe’s fine, just went back to sleep. He seems to be sleeping very well
tonight, no nightmares so far.”
“Let’s hope it keeps up until morning, then,” Ben
said, as he prepared to go back to his own bed. His mind was a little more at ease now
that Adam had checked on Joe. If
his son was sleeping a little better, he wouldn’t do anything to interrupt
that much needed rest.
***********************************************************
Next morning Ben was bringing a tray to his son in his room. He opened the door and smiled when he
saw the boy still sleeping. He
didn’t mind it in the slightest.
Joe was always the last to get up in this household. At the moment, though, considering the
circumstances, Joe could sleep as much as he liked until his injuries were
healed a little more.
Ben placed the tray on the bedside table and then frowned a little as
he looked over to see the window on the other side of the room opened. The curtains were blowing a gentle
breeze that came in the room through the half-opened window. Ben was positive that he had
closed it yesterday because Joe told him that he felt safer with it
closed. Now it was open. Maybe Joe got up through the night to
let some fresh air in, Ben surmised, and didn’t really think much more
about it. If it was a sign that Joe
was starting to feel a little safer, so be it. The weather wasn’t particularly
cold for him to worry about it being too cold in the room at night.
Joe was now starting to stir and wake up from his night’s
sleep. He pulled himself into a
more upright position on the bed and winced at the pain that immediately
resulted in his ribs. His leg was
only aching dully and he actually felt more alert then he had in days. His ribs were pretty good except
if he tried to move to much.
Ben went over to the bed “Good morning, son,” he greeted
his son and started placing pillows behind Joe’s back so that he could
sit up that little bit more.
“Morning, Pa,” Joe replied and then looked down at the tray
of food that his father placed in front of him. A small soft boiled egg, some lightly
buttered bread and black coffee.
“Now, I want you to try and eat as much as you can,” Ben
said, trying not to make too much of a deal about Joe’s eating
habits. It was well known to the
family that Joe was a finicky eater when it came to meals. Ben knew that his son’s ribs were
still smarting and that he still had some pain, but he also wanted to ensure
that his son’s recovery wasn’t hampered any further because the boy
refused to eat a nourishing meal.
“I’ll try,” Joe said, not wanting to reignite the
same arguments about his eating. He
picked up his cup of coffee and started to sip at the hot liquid. It slid down his throat and actually
tasted very good. To satisfy
his father that little bit more, he now cut the top of his boiled egg and ate a
few mouthfuls of the semi-solid liquid inside.
“I’ll leave you to eat your breakfast in peace,” Ben
said, knowing, his son would prefer not to be watched as he ate. “Do you need anything
else?” he asked, as he prepared to leave the room.
“Not really, but could you ask Adam to come up for a few
minutes,” Joe replied.
“I wanted to ask him about borrowing a couple of his books to read
while I am stuck in this bed.”
“Sure, son, and if you are feeling up to it, I can get Hoss and
Adam to help you down to the living room a little later in the day. It will be a little more comfortable
than being in here all day,” Ben suggested, trying to nudge his son that
little bit closer to coming out of his room for a few hours.
“Maybe later, Pa,” Joe said and sipped at his coffee again,
trying not to give away his true thoughts on the matter. If he gave some hope to his
father, maybe they would leave him alone.
Adam came up a few minutes later and greeted his brother with a smile.
“Good morning, little brother,” he said in a cheery voice. “What’s this I hear about
you wanting to widen your knowledge?” he joked, knowing that Joe was
never one for learning from books.
It wasn’t that the boy wasn’t bright enough, completely the
opposite, but Joe just didn’t want to seem to try. Adam had offered to help him with his
studies on a number of occasions, but Joe always refused and struggled on his
own getting mediocre results for his efforts at school.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Joe answered. “I just wanted something to
look at apart from these four walls.”
Adam didn’t try and push anymore than his father did, but he did
see a glimmer of hope in those words.
Maybe, if Joe got bored enough of his room, he would want to come down
and join the rest of his family. It
was a sign, a very small one at that and nothing to get excited about, but he
had to believe that soon his brother would start to regain that self-esteem of
his that had been robbed while he was away from his family.
Adam did as Joe requested and brought in a few of Joe’s favourite
books to read. “Could you
take this down to Hop Sing, Adam?” Joe now asked, as he pushed his
breakfast tray away.
“Sure, had enough?” Adam inquired as he saw half of the egg
gone and the coffee cup empty but the buttered bread untouched.
“Yeah, for now. My
ribs are still hurting, and my stomach doesn’t feel much like food at the
moment,” Joe admitted as he lay back against the pillows and made himself
more comfortable to read his books.
“We will be downstairs if you need us,” Adam said, as he
left the room with the tray.
“Well, half a battle won anyway,” Ben said to Hoss and Adam
as he gazed down at Joe’s breakfast tray.
Ben sat at his desk for the remainder of the morning, trying to do his
bookwork for the ranch without his mind continually wandering and wanting to
know what his son was doing upstairs.
Adam and Hoss had left the house after breakfast to carry out some much
needed chores and promised that they would be back at lunchtime in case they
were needed to help Joe. Ben promised
them that everything would be fine while they were away.
Back upstairs, Joe had tried to do what he had said, and picked up one
of Adam’s books and opened the first page. His eyes skimmed over the words,
but he wasn’t really reading them.
His mind kept wandering, too,
back to the abandoned shack and to hearing the words that Thomas had
spoken to him. To the pain he had
felt.
The more he thought about his situation, though, the more that renowned
Joe Cartwright temper started to appear.
He started admonishing himself severely for the fear that he constantly
felt and the way he kept pushing his family away.
His eyes kept wandering towards the doorway and despite the fear that
dwelled within him, he did want to get out of this bedroom. The first part was wanting to do
it and that was the hardest part at the moment. He looked over into the other corner of
the room and spied the crutches that Doctor Paul Martin had left for him to
use.
He had never used them before but his eyes kept looking from them to
the doorway. Finally, after much
berating and telling himself that only babies hid away in their rooms, Joe
threw back the covers that were over him.
He gingerly looked down at the thick white bandage around his leg. He had been told about the injury
underneath it. Paul had said it was
healing, but the only thing he could feel was the stitches painfully pulling
against the soft skin of his ankle.
Joe now gritted his teeth and forced both legs over the edge of the
bed. He waited for the pain to stop
before moving the rest of his body towards the edge. He looked up and saw the crutches,
leaning against the wall. There was
about two metres between the edge of the bed and the crutches.
Somehow, he had to get upright first, and then, without falling flat on
his face, reach the crutches and use them to support him as he manoeuvred to
the doorway. He knew he could have
called out and his father or brothers would come to help him. But the independent streak in him that
the family was waiting to see had begun to emerge, and he told himself that he
had to do this on his own if he was going to overcome his fear.
“Come on, you can do this,” he admonished himself again and
braced his hands on the bed in order to push himself into a standing position.
He managed to push himself into the standing position, but then had to
hold his breath and grab a hold of the bedclothes with an iron grip to stop
himself toppling over from the giddiness that he suddenly felt from standing
up.
He closed his eyes and told himself to concentrate on breathing to
ignore the pain that was now shooting up and down his leg. This was the first attempt at
standing on the leg since he was injured and he didn’t like one little
bit how it felt.
His hands were shaking from the exertion, and he was almost tempted to
lay back down and give it up as a bad joke. The berating voice came back into his
head, though, and told him to stop being such a baby again. He took another deep breath and let it
out slowly as he tried to get the dizziness under control. He was only clad in a night-shirt at the
moment, and the slight breeze coming through the window made him shiver
involuntarily, and his skin came out in gooseflesh underneath the thin
material.
Slowly but surely he now made himself let go of the bed and try and
stand up on his own. He stood
absolutely still for a few seconds and was mindful not to move in any one
particular direction, or he would fall in an embarrassing heap on the floor.
Once he thought he was strong enough, he pivoted on one leg, keeping
his injured leg off the ground so that he was facing the wall and the direction
he wanted to travel in.
“So far so good,” he said silently to himself.
He tried to gauge how many steps he would have to try and hop to get to
the crutches. And it would be
hopping, too, because he knew he didn’t want and try to put any weight on
his leg at all yet. He bent his
good leg slightly and then, with as much confidence as he could muster, he
forced his body to take that first hop.
He landed unsteadily on his good leg and had to adjust his arms a few
times to regain his balance. There
was a slight thud on the floor boards from his foot landing.
Ben had been trying to concentrate on the figures in front of him when
he heard the thud on the floor. He
looked up and creased his forehead in a frown as he tried to work out what Joe
might be doing. He was tempted to
get up straight away and go up to his son’s room, but he forced himself
to sit at his desk for a few more moments, trying to hear the sound again.
Joe bent down slightly again and took another hop towards the
crutches. With one more small hop,
he was now able to reach the wall and put his hands on the crutches. He had one hand braced up on the wall for
support as he tried to gather the crutches underneath his arms. He placed his hands now on
the handles and put his full body weight onto the thin crutches.
They were a little uncomfortable under his arms at first, and he
adjusted his stance and grip a few times, trying to get them to sit a little
better under him. He
now gripped the handles tightly with both hands and attempted to take his first awkward stride with
them.
It worked, and he actually had a smile over his face as he made the
first step without falling.
With the first one, his confidence gave him a false sense of security,
though, and he took another two steps in quick succession, ending up around the
other side of his bed, nearest the bedside table.
Ben had heard the floor boards squeak a few more times and was
determined that all these strange noises needed investigating. He got up from his desk and now climbed
the stairs to see if his son was alright.
Joe was too engrossed in his new found freedom of movement with the crutches
to hear his father approach the door. He was just about to take another step as
his father opened the door.
Joe squeaked at the fright he got from his father opening the door. He tried to put the crutches back onto
the solid floor, but they came down on an odd angle, causing his balance to
become unsteady once again.
Ben opened the door and gasped out loud when he saw his son, who was
supposed to be resting in bed, suddenly up on his feet and using the crutches
the doctor had left. He heard the
startled cry of his son and regretted not warning him before entering. The thought was quickly pushed
from his mind, though, as he saw Joe become unsteady on his feet. He tried to move forward and grab a hold
of his son before he fell onto the floor.
Joe’s overbalance caused his body to bump into the bedside
table. The few items on the table
were knocked over, including his mother’s photograph. With the frame now dislodged from
the table, there was now nothing stopping Butch Thomas’s little surprise
from rolling from behind the floor, off the edge of the table and onto the
wooden floor.
Ben stopped briefly as he saw the photograph fall and now watched with
confusion as an object rolled off the table and away from the beside
table. Once it hit the floor, it
continued to roll for a short distance before coming to rest at Joe’s
feet. Ben could see it was a bullet
and although he knew it posed no immediate threat, he was confused as to how it
got there or what it was doing on Joe’s table. He looked up and saw Joe’s gaze
fixated on the bullet in front of him.
Joe couldn’t hold back the gasp of shock and horror as he watched
the bullet roll off the table and onto the floor. He forgot he was holding onto the
crutches, and they fell to the floor as his hands suddenly flew to his mouth to
muffle the scream that was now held in the back of his throat. His fears had just become reality.
Ben wasn’t looking at anything now but at his son as he saw the
boy’s complexion pale to an almost waxen appearance. He heard the
boy’s strangulated cry and saw the fear in his eyes. He knew that Joe saw some sort of
meaning in the harmless-looking bullet, but he couldn’t for the life of
him figure out what it was.
Joe now felt the world around him start to become real dizzy and he
struggled to hold it together. He
felt the blood abruptly drain from his face, and his legs turned to jelly. He vaguely heard himself give out a
groan as his vision wavered and everything turned black. He didn’t feel himself toppling
over.
Ben now yelled his son’s name out as he saw the boy lose his
colouring and sway before him. The
boy gave a groan and fainted on the spot.
Ben made a move to catch his falling son, but missed, and Joe now fell
into a limp heap on the floor.
“JOSEPH!” Ben cried as he bent down to check the
boy’s pulse. He found it, and
sighed in relief. But then he
immediately became alarmed as he felt it.
It was racing. The
boy’s heart was racing at a mile a minute.
Adam and Hoss had been unbuckling their gun belts at the front door,
preparing for lunch, when they heard the gasp shock from their father and heard
Ben scream his youngest son’s name.
Both of them took no time to climb the stairs, two at a time, and now
gaze upon their father bent over the unconscious form of their brother on the
floor.
“What happened, Pa?” Hoss now said with worry written all
over his face.
“I don’t know.
I just came into the room.
He was trying to stand up on those crutches. I must have startled him because he lost
his balance and then bumped into the bedside table here, knocking the things of
it. That bullet on the floor there
was behind the photo frame. He
watched it roll across the floor and then just seemed to faint dead
away,” Ben said, as he continued to rouse his son.
“Hoss, you go and get Doc Martin,” Adam now suggested as he
picked up the bullet from the floor.
He looked it over and over.
Nothing out of the ordinary struck him.
Hoss did his brother’s biding and took off down the stairs, ready
to get back on his horse and ride urgently to Virginia City.
“Joseph,” Ben said, as he continued to say his son’s
name over and over in an attempt to wake him up. ‘Wake up, son”
“His pulse is very rapid,” Ben now said to Adam. Adam knelt down beside his fallen
brother and felt for himself, nodding the same finding as he felt the throbbing
in the boy’s neck.
Joe’s colour wasn’t very good at all. His face was not so ashen now, but still
very pale.
“I thought I scared him coming into the room, but I didn’t
think I scared him this much,” Ben said, concerned that he had startled
his son who was stilling recovering.
“Let’s get him settled back onto the bed, Pa,” Adam
now said, as he helped his father lift the limp Little Joe from the floor and
place him back onto the bed. They
pulled the strewn covers back on him to try and warm his body and hopefully get
some colour back into his skin.
“What else was he doing when you came into the room?” Adam
now asked, trying to figure out what would cause such a drastic reaction in
Joe.
“Like I said, I came into the room. It was obvious that I startled him. He was trying to walk on those
crutches,” Ben answered as he now picked up the fallen crutches. He now laid them against the wall on the
other side of the beside table.
“He cried out in fright and stumbled, bumping into the
table,” Ben said, as he played out his son’s movements.
“The photo fell off the table and that bullet rolled off the
table. I don’t know where it
came from, but Joe’s eyes seemed to be held on it as it rolled about the
floor. Next thing, he starts
swaying and then falls over in a dead faint. I tried to catch him, but I wasn’t
quick enough.”
“But what was a bullet doing on his bedside table?” Adam
now pondered as he continued to look from the bullet to his brother, lying on
the bed.
“I don’t know, but it looks just like any other
bullet,” Ben replied.
“Have you seen it before?”
“No, but there is a bit of a distinct marking around the
bullet. Probably made from the
chamber of the gun it came from. It
hasn’t been fired, probably just loaded and unloaded from a
pistol.”
“Ohhh,” came from the bed, immediately ending the
conversation between father and eldest son. Both of them turned their attention to
Joe.
“Joe,” Ben whispered softly as his son moved his head back
and forth on the pillow in an attempt to come back to consciousness.
Ben started to wipe the boy’s face with a damp cloth to help
bring him around. Joe took a few more
minutes to open his eyes and then focus them on the voice that was speaking to
him. His thoughts didn’t come
back to him all at once.
“Welcome back,” Ben said, still wiping his face.
“What happened?” Joe asked, as he put his hands to his head
to stop the merry-go-round.
“That’s what we were about to ask you,” Ben
answered. “I walked into the
room and you seemed to just fall onto the floor in a dead faint.”
“Does this have any significance to you, Joe?” Adam asked
innocently, holding up the bullet that he found on the floor.
It was now that the images came flooding back into Joe’s
mind. The pistol being held to his
head. His eyes watching the bullets
as Thomas loaded them into the chamber one at a time. He had looked at them long enough to notice
every mark and dent on the small pieces of lead.
Joe closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing again. He had to get through this. “Umm,
no………,” came the barely audible whisper as Joe tried to
look everywhere else but Adam’s hand.
Adam and Ben exchanged glances and knew that Joe was lying. They were now certain that the bullet
meant something to Joe, but they had no idea what. Their train of thought was interrupted
as Doctor Paul Martin now came into the room, followed by Hoss.
“You’re back very quickly,” Ben said, noting the time
that it had been since Hoss left for the doctor.
“I was already on my way out here, Ben, to check on my
patient,” Paul answered as he set his medical bag down on the bed. “Looks like I was needed, anyway,
from what Hoss tells me,” he said, now looking at his pale and wan
patient, lying on the bed.
“What have you done to yourself now, Joseph?” Paul said in
mock sternness. He was a little
concerned about the boy’s pale features, but kept his thoughts to himself
for the moment.
He held the stethoscope to Joe’s chest and began listening to the
boy’s heart and lungs. He
noted the same raciness that Ben had discovered when Joe fainted, but perhaps
not as bad as before.
“What caused you to feel faint, Joe?” Paul asked
simply.
“Um, I don’t know,” Joe lied. He didn’t think his family wanted
to hear the full story about the bullet and what it meant to him. Finding it there scared Joe more than he
could ever have imagined, though.
He knew that by finding it there on the bedside table, hidden from view
until the right moment, meant that Butch Thomas had been here.
Had not only been at the house, but had entered his room as he
slept. He could have taken him back
away from his family at any time, and his family wouldn’t have been able
to stop him. The thoughts about
Thomas standing over his bed and watching him as he lay asleep, totally alone
in his room, made his flesh come out in goose bumps again. The fear was too much to ignore
and it was all-consuming.
Ben and the doctor noticed with concern the boy apparently remembering
something and then saw the fear on his face and the gooseflesh on his
skin. There was a much deeper
meaning to this than Joe was prepared to tell.
Joe was becoming agitated by the attention and scrutiny he was getting
and nervously picked at the bed clothes with his hands. He tried not to hold his gaze with
anyone of them for more than a couple of seconds for fear of giving himself
away to them.
“I got startled by Pa coming through the door,” Joe said
finally, without looking up. It
sounded a plausible enough excuse.
He had jumped a little at Ben’s unannounced entry, but that little
bit of a scare was nothing compared with the runaway fear that had an iron grip
over his heart at the moment.
Ben looked up at the doctor and then at his other two boys and knew
that nobody in the room really believed that to be the real reason. Ben felt a little guilty about scaring
his son unnecessarily, but he saw the signs of something more eating away at
his son. The more they tried to
help Joe overcome his fear, the more he seemed to withdraw from them and build
defences around himself. The
battle was turning into an uphill one.
“Well, for now, young man, you don’t seem to have caused
yourself much more damage,” Paul said, as he got up and put his
instruments in his bag. “I want you to try and get some rest for a while
and then have something to eat.”
Joe nodded his head but didn’t say anything. He moved about and
made himself more comfortable on the bed and turned over, closing his eyes as
though drifting off to sleep. He
didn’t want to worry his family any more than he had already done. Truth was, Joe knew that sleep
would be a long time in coming today.
Ben, the doctor, Adam and Hoss now exited Joe’s bedroom,
satisfied that it looked as though that Joe was settling down to rest for a
while. No sooner had they
closed the door that he immediately opened his eyes and just lay there with Thomas’s
threats echoing in his mind. He
knew deep down in his soul that he would never be able to
reveal who his tormentor was for fear of him coming back and harming
his family. Thomas had told him
that he would get to him if he wanted to and seeing the bullet on his bedside
table only proved it even more.
“Ben, I don’t need to tell you that whatever is disturbing
that boy, he is determined not to tell anybody about it. Like I said, he seems alright,
though a little pale and with a touch of anxiety, but that will pass soon
enough. We have to keep up my
earlier instructions of trying to coax him out of his shell. If we don’t, he is going to let it
eat away at him.”
“I wish we could help him more, Paul,” Ben said
worriedly. “I thought maybe
he was showing some signs of wanting to open up, but now I’m not so sure
anymore.”
Paul now fiddled around in his bag and pulled out a small white bag
with two pills inside “These are very mild sleeping pills, Ben. I want you to give him one tonight and
one tomorrow night. Hopefully, they
will allow him to get some decent rest.”
Ben was about to talk to Paul more about his son’s condition when
there was another knock at the front door.
Adam opened it and was greeted by Sheriff Roy Coffee standing there with
his hat in his hand.
“Roy, what brings you out here?” Ben asked, shaking his
friend’s hand.
“Howdy, Ben, got a couple of things I needed to discuss with you
and your boys. By the way, how is
Little Joe?” the lawman
asked, as he shook the doctor’s hand “Doc.”
“He’s a little on edge at the moment, Sheriff, but his
physical injuries are healing nicely,” Paul answered for Ben.
“If you’ll excuse me, Ben, I will come out day after
tomorrow if I am not needed sooner.
Let me know if he gets any worse,” he said and left the house for
town.
“Thanks, Paul,” Ben said to the doctor and now turned his
attention to the Sheriff. “What can I do for you, Roy?” he asked
again.
“I’m sorry to hear that about Little Joe, Ben, and that
makes what I am about to tell you a little harder,” he said nervously
played with his hat-band.
“Seems that fellow, Griffiths I have got locked up has some
powerful friends. He had gotten in contact
with a lawyer from the city. I just
had an urgent telegram from him today, telling me that he arrives on the stage
tomorrow and wants to have a meeting between you and his client about setting
this matter for trial in a couple of weeks.
“A couple of weeks, Roy?” Ben said a little
exasperatedly. “I just
don’t know if Joe will be well enough or willing enough to testify by
that stage. We have tried to
ask him a few times to tell us about what happened, but he refuses. Just freezes up and starts shaking as
soon as the subject is mentioned.
It will be worse to put him in a court room in front of all those
people.”
“I know how you feel, Ben, but Judge Collins is due out here
about then, and I think he wants to get the trial on before him,” Roy now
explained.
“We could contact Fred Harding, Pa,” Adam now
suggested. He didn’t like the
ideas of putting his still injured and obviously scared younger brother through
something as traumatic as a criminal trial.
“Yes, son, that’s a good idea, but even if he agrees to
come out to help with the case, he won’t be here by tomorrow when
Griffiths’s lawyer is here,” Ben said.
“We will just have to listen to what he says until Fred can turn
up,” Adam said.
“Adam, you go back to town with Roy and send a telegram telling
Fred that we are desperate for his help. Money is not an issue, we will pay
him whatever he asks. Mention to
him some of what has happened. We
can fill him in on some of the smaller details if and when he gets here,”
Ben said.
“Ben, I hate to tell it like it is, but if we can’t get
Little Joe to testify to a court that Griffiths had anything to do with his
abduction, he and all the others will get off scot-free. We still don’t even know who the
other men were. I was hoping
to talk to Little Joe when he was feeling better to see if he remembers any
description of them.”
“Maybe Fred will know what to do. I don’t want anything else
happening to Little Joe, Roy. He
has been through enough already,” Ben said with a firm voice. “You go and organize this meeting
for tomorrow night. We will all be
there. We are not going to see this
animal get away with what he did to Joseph.”
Roy now departed the house along with Adam. Adam sent the telegram like his father had
suggested.
The rest of the day seemed to ebb away with no real problems. Joe spent the remainder of the day in
his room. He dozed off
occasionally, but the thoughts going around in his head prevented him from
getting the proper rest Doc Martin said was vital for his recovery.
Joe ate a sparse dinner but thankfully for Ben drank the milk
offered. Ben had not wanted to
upset his son any further that day about taking medicine to help him sleep so
he had simply dissolved the white tablet in the milk before taking it up to
Joe.
Ben sighed in relief as he watched the sleeping drug take a hold of his
son. Joe was now in a deep sleep
and should remain so for the rest of the night. Ben pulled the warm covers over his
son’s shoulders and left the room.
Adam and the others were having a late breakfast at the table when a
knock at the door revealed Mr Porter from the telegraph office. He said that he had a telegram, marked
urgent, for Ben from a Mr Fred Harding. Ben and his boys could scarcely
believe their luck as they read the telegram that said Fred would be arriving
the day after tomorrow.
They had brought in the big guns to help out Joe, but were mighty
grateful to have such a well-educated man willing to take on their case.
“What are we going to do about Little Joe tonight while we are at
the meeting, Pa?” Hoss said, worried about leaving his little brother
alone after being so scared.
“As much as I hate to do it Hoss, I think we still have to abide
by Paul’s idea to let him have a little more independence. I don’t aim to leave him totally
alone, though. Hop Sing will be
left here to look after anything that Joe might need. Hopefully, if that other sleeping pill
lasts as long as the one he had last night, we can go when he goes to sleep and
be back at the house before he wakes up and knows we are gone,” Ben explained. “I really think we all need to be
at this meeting tonight for Joe’s sake. It is going to be rough on him as it is,
and I don’t want this slick lawyer doing anything underhanded to aid his
client.”
Joe’s mood was just as dark when he awoke. He found himself feeling the same
insecurity that he had felt before trying to get out of bed. Now the knowledge that Butch Thomas had
been in his room, able to kill him or hurt him, took up to refusing to come out
of his room again when told he could do so. He used a multitude of excuses, such as
still hurting some and feeling tired, which were all partly believable, but his
family knew that he was running away from himself and his nightmares.
By mid-afternoon, part of Joe’s torment became Hoss’s, and
the big man could no longer bare to see his younger sibling in such
sorrow. Ben watched as Hoss climbed
the stairs and secretly hoped that the closeness of the two brothers shared
would help Joe overcome his fear.
“Hiya, brother,” Hoss said cheerily as he entered
Joe’s room. Joe looked up and
put aside the book he was reading.
He tried to smile, but it was a very fake effort.
“Hi, Hoss,” he said in a voice that held no tone at
all. “Came up to try and talk
to me again?” he said dryly, knowing that all of his family had tried to
do the same at various stages. It
was now Hoss’s turn, try as he might.
“Um, yeah, I suppose yes,” Hoss said, a little taken aback
by Joe’s negativity.
“Its just that you got us all so worried about you,
punkin’. Me and Adam have
been trying to think of a way to help you out. Pa’s just about going crazy down
there worrying about you. You
really scared him yesterday when you fainted like that.”
“I didn’t mean to, Hoss,” Joe said, his voice
betraying him. The whole tone
of the conversation had now changed as Hoss saw the tears slip from his
brother’s emerald green eyes.
Hoss’s heart just about broke in two and he couldn’t help
but sit on the bed and gather the younger boy into his arms while he cried.
“Oh, punkin’, I know that. Pa knows you didn’t mean
it, too. But you gotta believe that
nobody is going to hurt you anymore.
Not in this house. Not while
any one of us is here to see you safe and sound. I promise that I will pound anybody into
the ground that tries scare you or lifts a finger to hurt you again,”
Hoss said.
“Promise, Hoss,” Joe said in a meek voice. He really needed
to believe that somebody would protect him at the moment. He really did feel all alone and
vulnerable.
“I promise,” Hoss said with a firmness that signalled he
meant every word he said.
Hoss was determined to help his younger brother overcome his insecurity
and fear and so for the rest of the afternoon before supper, he sat talking
idly to Joe about what had been happening on the ranch while he was recovering.
Hoss was no good at the gentle and soothing words that Adam or his Pa
used, but he hoped that if he kept the conversation relaxed and the topics as
far away from Joe’s problems as possible, Joe himself would begin to
relax and feel safer.
His methods showed some signs of working, and Ben came up to see Hoss
and Joe having a few games of checkers on the bed. Joe’s mind was
still wandering, though, and surprising to him, Hoss found himself winning a
few games. But for the most part, Joe seemed to be a little calmer.
Ben smiled at the comforting scene before him and quietly slipped away
before he disturbed the two brothers.
***********************************************************
While Hoss was having his conversation with Joe, another conversation
of a different flavour was also happening back in Virginia City. It was talking place in Henry
William’s office between Henry Williams himself and Butch Thomas.
“You took some mighty awful risks going back to the Ponderosa
after that kid, Thomas. What
happens if the kid squawks and tells everything?” Williams said with a
little anger in his voice.
“He’s going to testify before a Judge and Jury, for
God’s sake. If he fingers
Griffiths for being part of it, what’s to say he doesn’t mention
your name with it?”
“Don’t worry, Williams, the kid won’t say
anything,” Thomas replied casually while leaning back on a chair in the
room.
Williams was riled just that little bit more with Thomas’s
nonchalant attitude. If the kid
talked and people put two and two together about the lumber contract and
Joe’s kidnapping, it was both of their necks in the hangman’s
noose.
“Hey, I am trying to protect both of us here,” Williams
barked as he shoved Thomas’s feet off his desk.
Williams swallowed a little as he now watched the colour of
Thomas’s eyes change. They
became darker and angrier. Thomas
now stood up and over Williams as he spoke.
“You don’t need to worry about a thing, Williams. I got everything under control. Believe me, I aim to go back tonight and
finish what I started. By the
time I am done with Little Joe Cartwright, the kid won’t be able to even
speak his name on that witness stand. He wouldn’t dare tell
anybody about me or what happened or about Griffiths. He will keep his mouth shut if he knows
what’s good for him. I’ll
make sure of it.”
“You just make sure that I get my share of that money. Because if I find that you have
double-crossed me,” Thomas said, grabbing Williams by the front of his
shirt for emphasis, “then, apart from me coming after your miserable hide,
I will make sure that somebody finds out your name and your involvement about
the boy’s kidnapping.”
Thomas pushed Williams back into his chair roughly and walked out of
the office. He had a few
preparations to do before he went back to the Ponderosa tonight.
***********************************************************
“You sure you’ll be alright, Hop Sing?” Ben asked for
the fifth time in an hour. He was
now regretting his idea about only leaving the little Cantonese man with Joe
for the few hours they were going to be in town.
‘Mister Cartwright not worry. Hop Sing take good care of Little
Joe,” Hop Sing replied, as Ben and his boys buckled on their gun
belts. The horses were saddled and
out front ready for them to depart in a few minutes.
“Now, Hop Sing, Joe has been asleep for about an hour from that
sleeping tablet. Make sure you
check on him regularly, but don’t wake him up. We shouldn’t be too
long. I want to get this
meeting done and out of the way. I
will feel a lot better when Fred gets here tomorrow,” Ben said.
“Adam, while we are in town tonight, I want you to make a hotel
reservation for Fred for tomorrow.
I will ask him to stay here, but I don’t know if he will,”
Ben now stated. “Let’s
go, boys. The sooner we go, the
sooner we can get back here to Joe,” Ben replied, glancing a final time
up to towards the room were his youngest son lay sleeping.
Hop Sing closed the heavy wooden door behind him and went up to check
on Joe just like he was instructed to. He found Joe still sleeping due to
the medicine and left the room to go down to the kitchen.
For the next half and hour, Hop Sing worked furiously in the kitchen,
getting some much needed baking out of the way while he was still awake. He wouldn’t need to do so
much tomorrow, then. He was
in the middle of making one of Hoss’s favourite peach pies when he
discovered that he had run out of eggs.
He went out onto the verandah and walked the short distance to the large
storage room at the back of the house.
He kept the eggs and butter in this building because it seemed to be the
cooler there, and the ingredients kept better than when they were in the
pantry.
Hop Sing was too busy gathering the few items he needed to notice
someone creeping up behind the door to the storage room. He had a small lantern with him
but he turned around in surprise as the door was now slammed shut, locking him
inside.
“Who out there, let out now?” Hop Sing yelled loudly to the
unseen party.
“You just sit tight, China man. I am just going to go and see how the
boy is fairing,” Thomas said with an evil laugh.
“Who you, you leave Little Joe alone. Cartwrights be back any minute. Leave Little Joe alone!” Hop Sing
yelled desperately through the door, knowing that he was powerless to help his
favourite Cartwright.
“Don’t lie to me, China man. Cartwright and his boys only left an
hour ago. They won’t be back
for ages. And don’t you go
worrying about Little Joe. I am
going to take good care of him,” Thomas said.
Hop Sing kept yelling through the door at the stranger to leave Little
Joe alone, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Because of the kitchen door still being left open, Butch Thomas had no
trouble entering the house.
He looked around the kitchen briefly, but then headed out into the
living room and towards the staircase.
He walked casually up the stairs, taking in the position of various
rooms and items in the house. He
made a mental map of everything he saw in case they could be of use later on.
He went into the bedroom at the top of the stairs, but found
Hoss’s room to be empty.
He skipped the farthest room
of Ben’s and now opened Adam’s bedroom door, to find it empty also.
He glanced at the final door at the end of the hallway and knew that he
would find what he was looking for inside.
As silently as possible, he opened the door and went inside. He laughed to himself again as he found
Little Joe curled up asleep on the bed. The kid didn’t even
know he was there. He
was about to change all of that, though.
Thomas saw the two crutches leaning up against the wall beside the
bedside table and now deliberately knocked them to the floor. They made a crashing sound as they hit
the wooden surface, but Joe only turned his head at the noise, his sleep from the
drug too deep.
“I guess I will have to use a more physical approach,”
Thomas said out loud to himself.
He now reached back and brought down a stinging slap to the sleeping
boy’s face. The slap had the
desired effect, and Joe brought his hand up to the reddened area as he opened
his eyes in total shock.
As soon as his eyes fixed on the reason for the pain on his cheek, he
let out a scream as he now came face to face with the man who caused his
nightmares.
“You seemed so surprised, boy,” Thomas now said, as he
roughly grabbed Joe from his bed and held his hand over the boy’s
mouth. He was fairly sure that
there was nobody else about the ranch at the moment, but he wasn’t taking
any chances. “I told you I would come back. Why did you doubt me?” he said,
ignoring the boy’s soft moans of pain as he dragged the struggling and
terrified boy across the room to the door.
Terror and fear had now developed in Joe at alarming levels and despite
the boy’s desperate struggles against his captors, his body was
trembling. He was still trying to
scream for help through the hand over his mouth. He was trying to work out why his father
and brothers weren’t coming to his rescue. Hoss said that they would be here to
protect him. Where were they,
where was Hop Sing?
Thomas dragged Joe down the stairs into the living room and threw him
roughly into the settee. Joe was
immediately trying to escape the man’s grip and get away from him.
“I need you to keep put, boy,” Thomas said, as he brought
out a small ball of twine from his pocket.
He held it out so that his victim could see it and now walked closer to
Joe. Joe’s heart was
beating so hard from the fear that he thought he might pass out. He kicked and bucked as best he
could. At one stage he felt
Thomas’s boot come into contact with his injured leg, and his struggles
stopped abruptly as he tried to deal with the pain that now engulfed his leg. He couldn’t help but scream
out loud from the pain.
Now that he was able to get a better grip on Joe, Thomas as able to tie
the boy’s hands together and then bind his ankles. The cord rubbed against the
bandages on Joe’s ankles and chafed some of the stitches underneath. By the time Thomas was finished tying
him up, Joe was sobbing from the pain and trying to cower away from the man who
was hurting him all over again.
“Pa, where are you, Pa,” Joe screamed out as the pain got
worse. He couldn’t understand
why nobody was coming to help him.
“Adam……… Hoss, help me, please. He’s hurting me. Pa.”
“You make too much noise, boy,” Thomas said, as he now took
out a large, checkered handkerchief and tied it securely around the boy’s
mouth to prevent him screaming.
Once his victim was bound and gagged, Thomas took a minute to stand
back and look at the miserable, cowering boy before him.
Joe looked up at him, unable to hide the terror he felt and the pain
that came from his bonds.
“Now you and me can have a talk without you interrupting
me,” Thomas said, as he grabbed the boy and brought him a few inches
closer to his face. “I
just wanted to make sure that you remembered our little talk back at the
shack. The one about not telling
anybody about me or anything that happened back there. Remember what I promised would happen if
you did talk?” he said menacingly.
Joe found himself nodding his head, but he didn’t know what
to. He just wanted this man to
leave him alone.
Thomas was a bit wary of staying longer in the house for fear of
somebody turning up unexpectedly.
He now looked about the room, trying to figure out what to do with his
young victim. He now spotted
a door on the far side of the living room.
He dragged the bound Joe with him and opened the door to see where it
led. To his surprise and amusement,
he saw the it was merely a coat closet, no bigger than an outhouse. It was dark and dingy. When Cartwright returned, he
wouldn’t even suspect the boy was hidden in there.
Joe could see that Thomas meant to put him in the dark and claustrophobic
closet. Despite the gag in his
mouth, he began begging not to be put into the darkened room.
“No………No,” Joe pleaded as he recommenced
struggling against his assailant and prevent himself being put into the closet.
At first Thomas couldn’t work out why the kid was bucking so much
about being put into the closet.
Then he looked at Joe’s feared look at the room and laughed out
loud as he realised the reason for the boy’s fear, apart from himself.
“You afraid of the dark, boy?” Thomas asked, already
knowing the answer to his question.
“Well I guess we will just have to make a man out of you. Time to face your fear,” he
said and propelled the boy towards the darkness.
Thomas was strong enough to literally pick up the boy and shove him into
the small space, but the boy was now running on pure adrenaline from the fear
within him. He was now in the
closet, but he was fighting against Thomas to get back out again. Thomas was tired of playing games
with Joe and now brought back his clenched fist and delivered a blow to the
boy’s jaw.
Joe was knocked unconscious and sagged in Thomas’s grasp. Thomas now propped him up against
the wall of the closet. He was
satisfied that he had scared the boy enough not to testify at the trial. If the boy proved him wrong, he would
make him truly sorry.
“See ya around, kid,” Thomas said to the unconscious Joe as
he closed the door. Joe was now immersed in total darkness, but was oblivious
to his cramped confines. There was
already a bruise darkening on his jaw line as a result from Thomas’s
fist.
Before Thomas left, he remembered the crutches upstairs and a smile
came over his face as he thought of an idea to scare the Cartwrights when they
returned to find their youngest missing.
He brought the crutches to foot of the stairs and broke one in half,
carefully laying it where it wouldn’t be missed.
Thomas now left the house through the kitchen door where he came
in. Hop Sing could still be heard
hollering through the storage room door to let him out.
Thomas now rode off towards Virginia City, but was careful enough to
take a smaller dirt track away from the main road in case the Cartwrights were
coming back.
***********************************************************
About an hour after Thomas left the Ponderosa, Ben and his boys were
coming back to the house. The
meeting scheduled had been postponed until the Cartwright’s lawyer, Fred
Harding, got there the following day. The solicitor for Griffiths wasn’t
too happy about it being put off, but when he heard the name of the
Cartwrights’ lawyer, he knew he had some homework of his own to do. Fred Harding had a reputation that
preceded him and he was no pushover when it came to criminal trials.
Ben Cartwright rode slowly into the yard and the first thing that he
heard was somebody’s voice.
He could hear someone yelling, but he couldn’t see them. He immediately got of his horse
along with Adam and Hoss and tried to listen to where it was coming from.
They walked closer to the house, but the voice could be heard out in
the yard. “I think its coming
from the storage room, Pa,” Hoss said, as he walked over to the small
cool room. Hoss looked down and
could see that a stick had been used to keep the person inside from opening the
door.
“Get it open, quick!” Ben now yelled, as a deep feeling of
dread was now beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.
To their surprise, out came a very hostile and very angry Hop
Sing. The little Cantonese man’s
voice was now very croaky, and it was difficult to make out what he was saying.
There were only two words that Ben heard that struck fear into his own
heart: “Lil Joe”.
He immediately forgot about the little oriental man and began running
towards the house.
Hop Sing followed the Cartwrights as they ran inside to see what had
happened while they were gone. It
was obvious that Hop Sing had been prevented from getting to Little Joe for
some reason. He had been locked up
so that he couldn’t help the boy.
“Joseph!” Ben called as he entered the living room. He stopped his shouting when he came
across the broken crutch at the bottom of the stairs.
Hoss and Adam now both looked at the broken sticks and couldn’t
hide their thoughts about what might have happened.
“What happened here, Hop Sing?” Adam now demanded.
Ben and Hoss turned around to listen to the little servant. “Hop Sing go to storage room to
get egg for Mr Hoss’s pie he baking.
Someone close door on Hop Sing. I say let me out. Man say he going to see Little Joe. I
told him no, but he no listen and go inside. Don’t know what happened, but
could hear Little Joe screaming.
Don’t know where he take Little Joe.”
“My God!” Ben cried as he now realised just how much danger
his son was in. He didn’t
know who had come and taken his son and it didn’t matter why. They just needed to get him back
again.
Hoss picked up the broken crutch and played with it in his hands for a
moment. When he looked back up at
Ben and Adam, both of them saw the anger that was now dwelling within the big
man.
"Come on, boys, let's go and find him," Ben
said firmly as he walked to the closet to grab his long overcoat. He
didn't know what the elements would bring outside. The only thing he was
worried about was the fate of his missing 16-year-old son.
“Adam, you’ll have to hitch up the wagon
and get some blankets ready, just in case,” Ben said, as he tried to get
his mind around what they might need.
At first, the door knob seemed to be stuck. Ben gave it another tug and
felt the lock release from inside the door. He swung the door open ready to reach up
for the coat. Instead, his eyes
bulged at the sight before him.
Ben barely got the door halfway open before something fell onto the
floor. Ben could hear his own gasp of shock and horror when he looked
down to see the unconscious and bloodied form of his youngest son fall limply
onto the floor. The boy was bound hand and foot and a gag had been
secured around his mouth to prevent him alerting anybody to his hiding place.
Ben knelt down to check for a pulse. It was there, slow and some what
erratic, but it was there. Little Joe was alive. The next thing
that Ben noticed was a white slip of paper attached to the front of Little
Joe's shirt.
Ben tore the note and immediately started to read what it said.
Could you hear him screaming, Ben? He was calling out
for you to help him, but you weren't there for him..
***********************************************************
Adam stood by the staircase banister, worriedly
running his hands through his black hair.
He had been impatiently waiting for Paul Martin to examine his
unconscious brother. He had gone
into Virginia City at a frightening pace after the family had found the limp
Little Joe in the closet.
By the time Paul arrived, Ben and Hoss had managed to
carry Joe to his room. The boy
still didn’t make any movements or signal that he was regaining
consciousness. The darkening
bruises stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin.
Ben was still with the Doctor in Little Joe’s
room. The only thing that was going
around in Ben’s mind at the moment was the few words that had been
written on the piece of paper found on Joe. The words not only seemed to echo in his
mind tenfold, but they shouted at him and reminded him of how he had failed his
son. He had left the boy virtually
alone and the unthinkable had happened.
Somebody had broken into their house, locked Hop Sing
up so that he couldn’t help and then proceeded to torture and assault the
boy some more. The burden of guilt
was almost too much to bear.
Ben found himself asking the “What
If’s” and the “If I had only’s”. Adam and Hoss and even Hop Sing
had come to tell Ben that there was no way he could have known that somebody would
be waiting to come and hurt Little Joe again.
Ben had wanted to be in the room with Little Joe as
Paul tended his new injuries and checked the older ones, but Paul had seen the
harrowing look on his old friend’s face. He had wanted to examine his patient
alone, but didn’t dare ask the question at the moment as he glanced
briefly at Ben again. Paul could
see the shadows of guilt and the hint of doubt cross Ben’s dark brown
eyes. He just hoped that the
evening’s tragic events hadn’t made the psychological scars on
Little Joe any deeper than before.
Paul now emerged from
Joe’s room with his bag in hand, and descended the stairs. He could feel
two sets of inquiring eyes on him in front of him as he reached the first
landing and Ben’s coming from behind him. He waited until he reached the bottom
before giving his full diagnosis.
“He’s going to
be alright, Ben,” Paul said, putting a firm reassuring hand on
Ben’s shoulder. “He has
a couple of new bruises to add to his collection, and the skin around his
wrists is a little red and chafed from his bonds. I have rubbed some
moisturising cream into them, and they should be fine in a day or so. The bruises will fade in time.”
“Has he come to yet,
Doc?” Hoss said, deeply concerned that Joe had been knocked unconscious
again.
“Briefly, Hoss, but
then went back to sleep. I
checked him over carefully. The
blow he received doesn’t seem to have caused any lasting effects, so I
let him go back to sleep. He is
mentally exhausted. When he did
wake up he was immediately looking around the room to see who else was in the
room. I am afraid to say that
whatever good work we were able to do over the last day or so, all of it has
just been undone, and we are back to where we were when he was first brought
home. It is going to take even
longer now to coax him out of his shell and get him gaining some
self-confidence again.”
Ben saw Paul to the door and
bid him goodnight in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Should one of us stay
with him, tonight, Pa?” Adam now asked, as they all prepared to retire
for the night.
Ben sighed loudly and
thought hard for a moment. It took
every ounce of gumption he had to say, “No, son. As much as my heart says to, we have to
try and keep to the doctor’s advice.
All of my body tells me that he shouldn’t be left alone tonight,
but then there is this little voice talking in my head that says we need to do
what’s best for Joseph in the long run. If we get too close to him and
smother him, we are likely to push him away and he will withdraw into himself
like before,” he explained.
“I don’t mean
that we don’t check on him during the night and be there at a
minute’s notice, though,” Ben added knowing that if Joe needed him
during the night neither he nor Joe’s brothers would hesitate in being
there to help him through his fears.
Hoss and Adam watched their
father walk up the staircase with dejection in his posture. They both knew that the next couple of
days ahead before the trial were going to be rough, especially on the eldest and youngest in
the household.
***********************************************************
The next morning Ben was
seated at the table early as usual, but this morning he had two reasons for
being up. One was the imminent arrival of Fred Harding on the stage. Ben and he would need to spend
most of the day going over the steps and procedures of the trial the day after
tomorrow. Once they had worked out
a strategy, the biggest hurdle would be explaining the need to testify to
Little Joe. That was going to be
the toughest of all jobs.
Ben, had lain awake most of
the night anyway, listening for the slightest noise to come from his
son’s room and give him an excuse or alibi for going into his son’s
room and carry on a night-long vigil.
On the couple of occasions
that Ben had gotten up and checked on Joseph, the young man was sleeping
soundly enough. There were some
minor moans and tossing of his head on the pillow, indicating that he was dreaming
of something. But other than that,
there was no thrashing about or shouting by Joe.
Ben turned around and was
about to exit the bedroom when he ran into his eldest son, who was coming into
the room. Both of them smiled at
each other sheepishly, but Ben continued back to his bedroom and Adam satisfied
himself that his brother was alright and then headed back to his own room. Both of them heard the heavier, more
distinct footsteps of the biggest Cartwright doing some checking of his own on
his younger brother not more than half an hour later.
All four Cartwrights then
slept the remainder of the night away without interruptions.
Ben was sipping at his
coffee when Adam and Hoss came down to the breakfast table. He was determined to talk to Joseph
about what had happened the previous night before he left for Virginia City to
meet with Fred Harding. He glanced
up at the closed bedroom door and knew that he would probably have to disturb
his slumbering son in order to talk to him. Joe wasn’t likely to wake on his
own for another hour or so and that would leave things too late to meet the
stage.
Adam and Hoss had both
offered to and meet the attorney instead of Ben, but their father had made it
clear that he wanted to meet the solicitor first and get first hand knowledge
about just how the trial was going to take place. He also knew that Fred would need to be
told about what had happened to Joe since the telegram.
Ben drained what was left in
his cup and now made his way to the stairs and climbed up towards his
son’s room. Adam and Hoss
both watched their father go to their brother. Neither of them said a word as they both
tried to contemplate what their brother’s demeanour would be that
morning.
When he first entered the
room, Ben had opened and closed the door very quietly so as not to wake
Joe. He admonished himself quickly,
though, and wondered why he was doing such a thing when the whole purpose of
him coming into the room was to wake his sleeping son.
Ben felt a lump rise in his
throat and he had second thoughts about his little talk as he gazed down at the
bed and saw Joe lying facing him.
His features were completely relaxed at the moment and he looked
impossibly younger than his sixteen years. Ben told himself that he
couldn’t delay it any longer.
“Joe,” Ben said
quietly at first as he rubbed the back of his hand gently against his
son’s cheek. Joe didn’t
respond at first so he repeated the process and was rewarded with a soft mumble
and Joe turning his head slightly at the voice talking to him.
Ben gave his son a few
minutes to continue waking on his own.
Joe moved his head a few more times and brought one of his hands up to
his forehead. It was at this stage
that his mind registered that his hands were no longer restrained. His eyes flew open, and he tried to sit
up in a hurry and look about the room.
He put the hand to his head
again to stop the giddiness that he immediately felt. After the spinning had stopped, Joe
looked down intently at his hands.
He was turning them over back and forth, trying to comprehend that they
were tied up with ropes still.
There was a slightly red ring around each wrist and a chafing feeling to
them, but otherwise they looked unharmed.
Joe stared at the rings and knew that they represented the torment that
he had been forced to live through once again.
He was lost in his own
thoughts for a minute and only acknowledged his father’s presence as he
brought his hands up to the bruise on his jaw line and looked directly at Ben
at the same time. For what seemed
the longest time, both of them looked at each other without saying any
words. Both of them spoke what they
were feeling with their eyes.
Joe’s emerald green eyes spoke of fear and of being afraid. Ben’s spoke of sadness for his son
but also of the love he felt and of understanding.
Joe’s emotions then
started to overwhelm him and he turned his head away and bit on his lip and he
could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Ben brought his hand gently up to the
opposite side of Joe’s bruised jaw and turned the saddened face towards
him again.
The tears now began
trickling down his face and as they fell, Joe felt himself lean into his
father’s chest and reach out for the security that he so desperately
sought. Ben could scarcely hold
back his own emotions, but was determined to be strong for his child in his
time of weakness.
He held his son with an
embrace that displayed warmth, strength and power, characteristics that Joe
found himself lacking at the moment and relying on others to give him.
“I’m sorry, son,”
Ben said, as he absent-mindedly ran his fingers through the back of Joe’s
hair in a soothing gesture.
“N-n-not
…….. not your fault, Pa,” Joe said, as he tried to get
himself under control and regain his composure.
“I would do anything
to turn the clock back and stop that man from coming back in here, Joe,”
Ben now said. “I promise you
that I won’t let anybody hurt you again”.
Joe didn’t say
anything in reply to this. He heard
his father’s words and knew that his father believed in what he
said. Unfortunately, Joe
couldn’t believe in such things at the moment. He didn’t even feel safe inside
his own house at the moment. Thomas
had proven that by literally just waltzing into his room in the night and
taking him by force from his bed and tying him up.
The torment hadn’t
stop there. After he found himself
bound and gagged, Joe had become Thomas’s victim of terror again as he
was placed in the darkened closet.
Darkness was one of Joe’s worst fears. Almost everybody that knew Joe also knew
about his phobia. Being forced to
face it in such terrifying circumstances had only made the fear seem more real
to Joe.
“I have to go now and
meet the stage, Joe,” Ben said, as his mind kept track of the time. “I won’t be gone long. I will make sure one of your brothers is
here with you and helps you get breakfast and anything else you need.”
Joe was tempted to say a few
things to his father like, “how
about a gun to protect myself if he comes back,” but refrained from
it and just gave his father a wan smile in response.
“Thanks, Pa,” he
said, the words almost feeling like a lie.
Ben still didn’t feel
right about getting up and leaving his son, but as he got up from the bed and
looked back at Joe’s forlorn expression, a noise behind him caused him to
turn and come face to face with his eldest son Adam. Apparently, Ben didn’t need to
worry too much about alerting his two eldest sons to look out for their younger
brother, nor Hop Sing, it seemed, as Ben spied the tray of breakfast that Adam
now set down on the bedside table.
“I will make sure
he’s alright until you get back, Pa,” Adam now said noticing his
father’s hesitation in leaving Joe to meet the stage.
“Are you going to
bring Mr Harding back to the house?” Adam now asked changing the whole
topic of conversation in the room.
“Who is Mr
Harding?” Joe asked in a small voice as he wiped away the remaining tears
from his face and tried to look stronger in front of his older brother. With all the happenings over the last
couple of days and the blow to his head, the name escaped Joe for a
minute. Joe found himself being
cautious about any name he didn’t immediately recognize.
“Fred Harding is the
attorney who I have hired to be our lawyer when the court case starts, Little
Joe,” Ben started to explain but saw his son immediately turn his head
away as if not to hear anything about a court case. Ben sighed inwardly as he knew
that this was probably the same ignorance that Fred was going to face when he
started to question Joe about what happened when he was kidnapped.
“I will be back soon,
son,” Ben said, noticing that it was already getting too late to meet the
stage on time. He gave a curt but
grateful smile at Adam in appreciation and quickly walked down the stairs
towards the front door.
“I saddled your horse
for you, Pa,” Hoss said, as he met his father at the door. Ben took his gun belt from the credenza
and his hat from the rack behind the door. He opened the door and was about
to step out when he glanced back up towards his youngest son’s room
again.
“Thanks, Hoss,”
Ben said genuinely.
“Make sure you keep a good eye on him for me while I am
gone,” he added, already knowing that he didn’t need to say such
things.
“You bet, Pa,”
Hoss said in reply. “I
won’t let anything happen to him”. All three Cartwrights were feeling
guilty that they hadn’t been there for Little Joe when he needed
them. It was also evident with Hop
Sing, also, as Hoss turned and notice the man peering out from behind the
kitchen doorway.
Adam sat, talking to Joe for
a while trying to entice the younger man to get something into his
stomach. He tried not to focus his
attention on the new bruises that marred Joe’s handsome features. Those bruises were the result of him not
being there for his younger brother.
None of them had ever
thought the man responsible for Joe’s kidnapping would be so brazen as to
break into their house in the night and attempt to take him again. The idea was almost beyond comprehension
that there were men so callous and cruel out there. Adam silently promised himself that he
wouldn’t allow anybody to hurt his younger brother again.
Adam tried to make the
conversation non-intrusive and just routine
chit-chat at first. He tried to talk about anything else but
what had happened to Joe last night.
Joe played with the
scrambled egg on the tray for a few minutes. When he saw Adam watching him and almost
hanging on to the thought that he was eating he managed to force two spoonfuls
of the mixture into his mouth. He
told his brain not to taste it as it went down and sat uncomfortably in his
stomach. He was not about to
take a third mouthful.
Instead, he now picked up
the coffee on the tray and sipped at the hot liquid. It actually tasted quite good, but the swallowing
action made his jaw hurt and brought a grimace to his face at the pain that was
hard to avoid.
“Sorry, Adam, I guess
I am just not very good company at the moment,” Joe finally said. “Thanks for staying, but you
really don’t need to. I think
I would rather be alone with my thoughts for a while. I still feel a little tired and I can
feel a headache starting.”
“Do you want something
for the pain?” Adam asked, as he got up from the bed.
Joe shook his head in a
negative response.
“Are you sure you want
to be alone, buddy?” Adam asked before exiting the door. He didn’t think it was very good
for Joe to be left alone with his thoughts. Left alone to brood on what had already
been a harrowing experience for him.
But he respected his brother’s privacy enough to understand Joe
wanting some time to think through things himself. Hopefully Pa wouldn’t be gone too
long, anyway. He might be able to
talk to Joe again about what happened.
“I am not really sure
about anything anymore, Adam,” Joe said in a disinterested voice and
turned away from his brother to
hide the tears that threatened to spill again. He cursed himself for his weakness, but
couldn’t help the overwhelming fear that was still very real in his mind.
Adam noted his
brother’s words sadly, but didn’t say anything in return and closed
the door to go downstairs.
Hoss was just coming in from
outside when Adam was descending the stairs.
“He alright up
there?” Hoss enquired.
“No, and I really
don’t blame the kid after what he has been through,” Adam said in
defeat. “I think you and I
need to sit down before Pa and Mr Harding get back and talk about what’s
going to happen at this trial.”
“What do you want to
talk about?” Hoss said, as he watched Adam walk over towards the fireplace. Adam’s normally dark brown eyes
clouded over with thought as he put the words together in his head before
answering the question. Hoss sat on
the settee and waited for his brother to speak.
“After what happened
last night, you and I need to think of an alternative strategy for security in
the courtroom,” Adam now said.
“I know Sheriff Roy Coffee and Pa will be there as well as two
lawyers and a packed public gallery.
But after this man’s obvious brazen efforts last night to Little
Joe, I don’t really trust any of them to be there in case Joe needs help
again. I don’t want to put a
dampener on the whole thing. It is
a court of law, after all, but I don’t really think that such a place
would be a deterrent to somebody who wanted to get to Joe during the
trial.”
“What do you suggest
we do?” Hoss asked, plainly not really thinking about the court room
being a place for threats to take place.
“We can’t take guns in there. Roy will be the only one with a gun in
the whole place.”
‘I know. I know,” Adam replied. “That’s a hurdle that is
going to be hard to get over. But,
somehow, we have to come up with something. Even if we just make sure that we take
note of everybody coming in and out.
We need to keep a close eye on the whole procedure. Joe’s safety has to be number one
priority, no matter what Mr Harding and the Judge think.”
***********************************************************
Ben had tried to get to
Virginia City as fast as he could once leaving the house, but was still in time
to notice that the stage coach had already arrived and allowed the passengers
to get out.
He hitched his horse at the
railing and went to the stage coach to ask the driver about Mr Harding.
“Hi, Stan,” Ben
greeted the driver who was busy unloading luggage and boxes from the top of the
stage.
“Hi, Ben, what brings
you to town today?” the man asked in casual conversation.
“Looking for one of
your passengers, actually,” Ben replied. “A Mr Fred Harding,”
he added, hoping that the driver had kept a list or made a mental note of the
passengers names.
“Yeah, I seen the man
you are looking for. All dressed up
like a prize turkey,” Stan said.
Out here in these parts, any person dressed in a pinstriped suit with
vest and coat immediately became memorable. Virginia City folks were not usually as
flash with their attire, especially when travelling by stage coach. “He walked over towards the hotel,
Ben.”
“Thanks, Stan,”
Ben said and turned away quickly, trying to catch up with his elusive guest. It wasn’t that he wanted to be
rude to the driver, but he had more important things on his mind at the moment
like the welfare of his youngest son and the trial that he was expected to give
evidence about in couple of days.
Ben entered the hotel
through the two French doors and waited for his eyes to adjust from the
sunshine outside to the darkened lobby of Virginia City’s International
Hotel.
There were two gentlemen
standing at the front reception desk inside the hotel. One was Fred Harding, the lawyer
that Ben was looking for. The
second man, unbeknown to Harding or Ben, was the defence lawyer for Griffiths,
Mr Eugene Simpson. He was a little
balding man with beady eyes and short in stature. Mr Simpson was unaware that the man
standing beside him was to be his formable rival in the courtroom. He had heard of Harding’s
reputation as a very good prosecutor, but had actually never laid eyes on him
personally.
“Excuse me,
gentlemen,” Ben said, as he approached both of them, “My name is
Ben Cartwright and I was due to meet a Mr Fred Harding at the
stage.” Ben had had dealings
with Harding in the past but due to the distance of travel involved he had only
met the lawyer on a couple of occasions.
Those times had been quite some time ago, as well, so the recognition
wasn’t so forthcoming.
The taller of the two men
now turned and faced Ben “I am Fred Harding,” the man replied and
held out his hand towards him.
“Its been a long time,
Fred,” Ben said, as he tried to take in Harding’s features and jog his
memory. “I apologize for not
being able to meet you at the
stage”
“Its quite alright,
Ben, I was just arranging a room here at the hotel,” Fred now said.
“I have had my hands
full since sending you that telegram because we had some major trouble with Joe back at
the house last night,” Ben said.
It was now that he could see the shorter man at the reception desk
becoming increasingly interested in what he and Fred had to say.
Fred turned at the frown on
Ben’s face and noticed Simpson immediately turn away as though he was not
interested in the reunion of the other two men.
“Let’s go back
to the Ponderosa and I will explain what has happened,” Ben now
suggested, hoping for more private surroundings.
“I will be back later
on this afternoon, clerk,” Fred now informed the man behind the desk and
took possession of his room key.
“There is plenty of
room at the Ponderosa for you to stay, Fred, if you wish,” Ben now
offered.
“Thanks, Ben, but
during these sort of things I like to keep a room in the town just in
case. You never know when you might
need it. Thank you for the
invitation. Let’s go and meet
this family of yours and talk about what is going to happen at the
trial,” Harding explained.
Ben went about hiring a
mount for Fred from the livery stable once they left the hotel so that they
could travel back to the ranch.
Most of the ride home was
done in silence. Ben’s
thought were about what might be happening back at home, and Fred’s
attention was focused on the landscape that they were riding through. He didn’t get the chance to travel
away very much and never to such remote townships like Virginia City. He couldn’t help but think that
sometimes the beauty of these small places was lost because people in the
bigger towns and cities never knew about them.
Hoss and Adam heard the
sound of horses approaching outside and went outside to greet their father and
the lawyer. “Can I take your
horse, Sir?” Hoss asked in a respectful tone of Harding.
“Thank you
kindly,” Fred said, as he dismounted and handed the reins to the overly
large gentleman in front of him. He had descriptions about the Cartwright boys
over the years from Ben and his various communications, but those never did any
real justice to the people he met in person.
“Fred Harding, this is
my middle son, Eric, or as we like to call him, ‘Hoss’,” Ben
stated as he went through the formal introductions. Hoss looked sheepishly away at his real
name being used. He was rarely
called Eric by his family.
“’Hoss’ it
is, then,” Fred said in a friendly tone as he shook the large hand.
Adam now walked
forward. “Fred this is my
eldest boy, Adam,” Ben now said, as Adam shook Harding’s hand in a
firm but friendly manner.
“Mr Harding,”
Adam returned whilst looking the lawyer up and down and trying to gauge just
how much assistance he was going to be able to give to his younger brother and
his whole family during the difficult days ahead.
“A pleasure to finally
put faces to the names I have heard all these years, Ben,” Fred said, as
he, Ben and Adam now walked towards the front door of the house.
“A very nice looking
family you have, Ben,” Fred now said in general conversation as they
entered the house, and he gazed about at the sparse but tasteful decoration. It was obvious to anybody who walked
into the main room of the house that this was a home occupied by men only. It wasn’t messy or untidy, Hop
Sing saw to that on a daily basis.
But folk couldn’t help but notice the lack of femineity with objects
such as flowers in vases and various other trinkets that could be normally seen
on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.
“You haven’t met
my youngest son yet,” Ben now said to Harding. “He is the whole reason I asked
you to come out here. He has been
through some very difficult times, and we thought we had just turned a corner
with his injuries healing when there was another incident last night.”
“Little Joe was asleep
last time I checked, Pa,” Adam now informed his father. Joe had been awake for most of the time
Ben was away, but as the morning wore on, his strength had been eroded away by
fear. With his fresh injuries still
causing him some discomfort and his older ones still reminding him of what he
had been forced to endure, it didn’t take long for the tiredness to creep
back up on him again. He had been
asleep for about half an hour when Fred Harding and his father rode into the
yard.
“Leave him sleep, Ben,
I can meet him later and talk about what is going to happen at this trial,”
Fred said, not wanting to disturb Joe for the time being. “While we are waiting for him to
awake again, why don’t you tell me how much you know about what happened
to him and about what happened last night.
We don’t have very much time to prepare. The trial is only the day after
tomorrow. and we need to be ready.”
Ben and his two eldest boys
now seated themselves in the living room along with Fred Harding. Hop Sing was soon at their side. serving
hot cups of coffee and a various assortment of small sugar-coated
biscuits.
“Well, this is what
happened as far as we know, Fred ……..” Ben began. Fred carefully listened to his friend
give a detailed description about the morning Joseph had left for school and not
returned. Ben told him about
finding the horses along the road to Virginia City and even showed him the
contents of the ransom note.
He finished up with telling
Fred about the search that had been conducted and how they had found Joe and in
what condition they had found him.
They told him about Roy
Coffee detaining Griffiths in Virginia City when he had possession of
Joe’s hand-carved saddlebags and his denial of knowing who they belonged
to.
“Little Joe, is
it?” Harding now asked, using the nickname that he had heard the family
use in loving tones during the whole conversation.
“Yes, short for
Joseph. I am afraid old habits die
hard,” Ben chuckled as he thought about how long Joe had that name. It seemed he had received it the very
first day he was born into this world and probably would still have it when he
was a grey old man.
“Little Joe, how is he
coping with what has happened to him?
Has he sat down and had a heart-to-heart talk with any of you about what
he experienced at this abandoned shack?” Fred asked, turning the
conversation back to a serious matter.
“Up until yesterday we
thought he was doing pretty well,” Ben began to explain. “He didn’t blurt out the
answers to our questions, if that is what you are asking. But he seemed to be doing relatively
well, considering all. It was our
family doctor Paul Martin who suggested that we let him find his feet on his
own a little and let him regain some of his lost independence.”
“Now, tell me in
detail what happened yesterday,” Fred asked, knowing that all the recent
events were painful enough for the family to relive. He had been taking careful and accurate
notes during the whole conversation in preparation for his trial.
Ben then proceeded to tell
Fred about leaving Joe alone for the night with Hop Sing and having to meet the
defence lawyer in Virginia City. He
was quick to point out that the defence lawyer didn’t turn up at the
arranged time, either. Ben then
continued the story and included as much of Hop Sing’s words as possible
as he was the only one who had real first hand knowledge about what happened.
Fred Harding had been
professional enough to keep his feelings to himself during the
conversations. He shuddered
inwardly at what Ben Cartwright’s youngest had apparently endured. But now, on hearing the account of what
had happened only the day before with Thomas returning to scare his victim once
more, his bones were chilled to the core about just what the boy had been put
through. He could scarcely imagine
how anybody could cope with the multitude of emotions that would have been the
result of such harrowing experiences.
He could see that he would have to use very gently hands with Joe during
the trial.
“Do you think Joe
might be awake now so that I can talk to him, Ben?” Harding now
asked. Ben looked at his watch and
saw that what seemed only minutes during their conversation had actually been
about two hours. Where did all the
time go, Ben wondered himself.
“We can go and see,
Fred,” Ben replied, and they both got off their chairs and headed towards
the staircase. Adam and Hoss
remained seated in the living room.
There would already be too many people in the room when their father and
Fred got there. They were sure that
Ben would alert them if they were needed later.
Ben went first and knocked
lightly on the closed door to his youngest son’s room. When he didn’t receive an answer,
he cautiously and quietly turned the door knob and opened the door, fully
expecting that Joe was still asleep.
He was a little confused and slightly alarmed when he could see the bed
empty.
He opened the door fully and
walked into the room to make sure of things before he panicked for no
reason. He gave a huge sigh of
relief when he spotted Joe sitting on a chair by the window. The window itself was still fully
closed. After Thomas’s
break-in, Joe was ever more aware of having doors and windows locked, just in case Thomas came back
again.
After the incident itself,
Ben had gone to great lengths to ensure that there were always hands in the
yard itself, ready and armed with their guns in case Thomas decided to try to
get to Joe again. Despite all these
genuine efforts of his father, Joe couldn’t help but not feel safe in his
own home. The curtains were
drawn apart a fraction. Just enough
to let some light into the room.
Joe now turned and jumped
slightly at the sound of footsteps behind him. He had been lost too deep within his own
thoughts to hear anybody approach his room or knock on the door.
Ben saw the flinch and
regretted not having given sufficient warning to his son. Joe’s eyes were now squarely fixed
on the stranger in the room.
Fred could not help but feel that he was adding to the young man’s
anxiety. He could see Joe’s
eyes darting around the room.
It took all of his willpower for Joe to finally look at Fred while
trying to hide his nervousness.
“Joseph, this is Mr
Harding. He is going to be the
prosecutor and your attorney for the trial in a couple of days,” Ben now
informed his son. His
gaze never left Little Joe’s face as he tried to gauge the boy’s
physical and mental state.
“Nice to meet you,
Joseph,” Fred said, as he stepped forward and offered a handshake,
“I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” he added.
“Hello, Mr
Harding,” Joe said in a quiet voice as he gave a somewhat evasive
handshake. “Please call me Joe.”
“Joe, Mr Harding wants
to talk to you about what is going to happen at the trial. He may need to make
some notes about what you can remember………” Ben left the
sentence incomplete. He
didn’t want to add words like kidnap and ransom at this stage, but they
couldn’t delay the process much longer.
“There’s not
much to tell,” Joe said and then turned back towards the window, turning
his face away from his father and the attorney. He didn’t want to give his true
feelings away by having them written all over his face. “I didn’t see a real
lot,” he finally added. He
knew that Harding would need more than those few words as to what happened.
Ben was about to say something
to Joe about co-operating as much as possible when Fred silently held up his
hand to halt him for a moment. Fred
knew that Joe was a very scared and possibility angry young man right now, no
matter how much he tried to hide it.
He would need to take a different approach to get any information and he
would have to tread incredibly carefully.
Fred walked over towards the
window and stood beside Joe for a minute, looking out the window. He didn’t say a word. He wanted Joe to try and make the first
move.
“Nice weather we are
having at the moment,” Fred now commented as he gazed out the
window. He knew that the weather
outside was the furthest thing from Joe’s mind at the moment, but it was
meant to get the boy to open up even just a little about the world around them.
“I suppose so,”
Joe replied in an uninterested voice.
“What difference does the weather have with anything?”
Fred knew from that
statement that his young client was not in the mood for small talk and so he
changed his tactics again. He now turned towards Joe to speak.
“I am going to try and
help you as much as I can at the trial, Joe,” Fred said. Joe now turned towards the lawyer with
doubt in his eyes. “But I need
you to help me do it,” he said in a very gentle voice. He placed a hand on the boy’s slim
shoulders for reassurance.
Joe now looked over towards
his father as if to verify what Fred was saying to be true. He wanted to believe, he really
did. But the demons that plagued
him at night and the memories that haunted him during the day prevented him
from having faith in the people that wanted to help him the most.
Ben took no time at all to
nod his head in acknowledgement to Fred’s statement and now walked over
to his son and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. “We are all here to help you,
Joe.”
Joe now sighed heavily and
walked over towards his bed. He sat
on the foot end of the bed and looked up at Fred and asked, “What do you
want to know?” Deep down
inside all he could hear was the sound of Thomas’s words echoing about
what would happen to him if he revealed his kidnapper’s identity.
Ben sat on a chair beside
Joe, ready to support his son wherever he needed it. Fred now sat on the other chair in
the room, a little away from both Ben and Joe. He pulled out a notebook from his
briefcase and a pen to make his notes.
“How much do you
remember about what happened to you, Joe?” Fred asked first.
“Not much. They knocked me out when they took me
from the road, and I didn’t wake up until I was at the shack. I was hit on the head, so I
don’t remember very much at all after being taken to the shack,”
Joe answered. This sounded like a most plausible reason for the lack of
information he was willing to give to the attorney.
Fred’s mind, though,
was already taking in certain words that Joe said and turning them into
questions “You said
‘they’. Do you mean
more than one person took you from your family, Joe?
Joe silently kicked himself
a little at the man’s quick intellect “Um, well, when I was at the
shack, they kept me in a little room so I couldn’t escape, but I heard
more than one voice,” Joe said, as his brain tried to come up with the
evasive answers.
“So there was more
than one,” Fred confirmed.
“Are you able to tell us anything about their description,
Joe? What they were wearing, what
they looked like, any distinguishing marks?”
Joe’s face paled
slightly at the mention of ‘distinguishing marks’ as his mind took
him back to the shack when he had been face to face with Thomas. The scar. He would never forget that scar as long
as he lived.
Ben saw his son’s
colour pale and was immediately concerned although he couldn’t figure out
what had caused such a reaction in his son. Maybe Joe remembered the men who
took him more than they all thought.
“Are you alright,
Joe?” Fred asked before continuing any further.
Joe couldn’t find his
voice as he battled to control his fear and regain his composure, so he simply
nodded his head to say that he was alright. It was far from true, but he nodded
anyway.
“Um…….. I
can’t really tell you anything about them because I was blindfolded when
I woke up in the shack,” Joe finally said. Ben handed him a glass of water from the
bedside table to help him get his voice back.
For the next twenty minutes,
Fred tried a number of other questions to try and establish what Joe knew or
didn’t know about the men who took him, especially about the man on trial, Danny
Griffiths. But Joe was just as
determined to be evasive about the questions as when he started. He didn’t want to deliberately lie
to the lawyer or to his father, but he knew he couldn’t tell them
anything about Thomas that would identify him.
You
know what will happen if you tell, Thomas’s
voice kept reminding him over and over again.
By the end of the time, Fred
gave Ben a look that signalled he was finished with the interview for the time
being. Both men knew that Joe was trying his best not to remember what
happened. Neither of them blamed
him for not wanting to relive the horror of his entrapment. But neither of them wanted to go into
the courtroom unprepared, either.
Griffiths’s attorney wasn’t going to be lenient towards Joe,
no matter how much or an ordeal the boy had been forced to endure.
By now Ben could also see
that although the interview had only taken a few minutes, the strain of such an
array of emotions during that time had drained Joe’s already depleted
energy levels and fatigue was beginning to show on the young man’s features.
“I will let you talk
to Joe alone, Ben, and I will meet you downstairs,” Fred now said, as he
got up and prepared to go back downstairs.
“Thank you, Joe. You did
very well. Don’t worry about
a thing. Everything will run
smoothly at the trial.”
Once Fred had left the room,
Joe looked at his father expecting to see disappointment on his face. He was surprised, though, to see his
father looking at him with love and understanding.
“I tried to remember,
Pa. I really did, but there are a
lot of things that just aren’t clear in my mind,” Joe lied.
“I know you tried your
best, Joseph. But right now
you need to rest again. The trial
is only in a couple of days and it is not going to be a very pleasant
experience. You leave the courtroom
stuff to Mr Harding and me for a while.
You just concentrate on resting and healing yourself.”
“Thanks, Pa,”
Joe said genuinely. Somehow, even
when he felt rotten inside, his father had a way of making him feel a little
better.
Joe could also tell that his
body was still very tired and demanded rest. Without protesting, he now moved back
fully onto the bed a little awkwardly because of his injured leg, but finally
he managed to lay down and rest his head on the pillow. He had the beginnings of a headache and
the softness of the pillow seemed to soothe the throb just a little. He sighed loudly again and
wondered how he was going to get through all of this.
He closed his eyes whilst he
pondered the question, but drifted into a fitful doze before the answer came to
him.
Ben stood there for a
moment, his own emotions in turmoil about how to help his young son. He wanted to wrap his arms around the
boy tightly and make him understand that everything would be alright, but right
now that would probably only serve to drive the boy further into himself. He caressed the boy’s
forehead gently for a few minutes until he was sure that Joe was asleep ,and he
then quietly left the room.
***********************************************************
Fred Harding had patiently
waited downstairs to talk to Ben and his boys together about the trial. Whilst Ben had been tending to Joe, Fred
had told Adam and Hoss about the small questions they had asked Joe, the
questions about what he remembered about the incident. Fred told Adam and Hoss that he knew Joe
was being evasive in his answers and really not wanting to retell his tale to
anybody.
“He’s
asleep.” Ben informed them as he descended the stairs to questioning
looks. Ben now looked directly at
Fred and hoped his learned friend had some answers about what they were going
to do at the trial.
“Try not to worry too
much about Joe’s answers to my questions, Ben,” Fred now said,
trying to ease the concern he saw on Ben’s face. “Joe went through a terrible
ordeal, more than most of us probably could possibly have endured. It is only natural that he doesn’t
want to be forced to remember things he would rather forget. He will be able to tell us his story in
his own good time come the trial.
Nobody will rush him. He
can take his time and have his friends and family around him to support him
when he does relay his story to the court.”
“I hope you’re
right, Fred,” Ben said with a little doubt in his mind that Joe would
speak at all once in the courtroom.
“I just don’t want to put him through any more hurt than is
absolutely necessary. He is in a
very fragile state of mind at the moment with both attacks. We all need to help him regain his
confidence and self-esteem.”
“That’s why I
was going to suggest to you, for all of you, including Joseph, to stay at the
International Hotel in Virginia City tomorrow before the trial begins,
Ben,” Fred now suggested, changing the topic of conversation a little.
“Do you think that is
necessary, Fred?” Ben now asked.
Ben thought that being at the Ponderosa with his family would help Joe
before he was forced to face the court.
“Yes, I do. Joe is going to need to rest during the
trial both mentally and physically due to his injuries. I noticed that his leg is still causing
him a great deal of discomfort. I
have that room at the hotel, its not going to get much other use other than
from myself. You three could bring
Joe there tomorrow afternoon. Give
him a little chance to relax and have a decent meal and some much needed rest
before the trial day.”
“How do you boys feel
about the idea of staying in town tomorrow night?” Ben now asked Hoss and
Adam. Whatever the decisions were
over the next couple of days, Ben was determined to make them joint decisions
that involved all the family’s opinion. What was happening was affecting them
all so it was only common sense that any arrangements made be ones that
included Adam and Hoss as well.
“I don’t mind at
all, Pa,” Hoss said immediately.
Adam, on the other hand, thought for a minute. His mind was going over the advantages
and disadvantages of such a move.
His first concern was like that of his father towards his brother Joe
and how he would feel about staying somewhere else before the trial.
After carefully considering all
of the options available to them, he now gave his well thought out answer. “I don’t have any objections
to the move. I can see where the
room will be useful, just like Mr Harding says. But how are we going to convince Joe
that it is a good idea?” he now replied with a question of his own.
“Maybe you could help
explain it to him, Adam,” Ben now said. He, of course, was quite willing to
attempt telling his son about the need to move closer into town before the
trial. But sometimes the
relationship between his eldest and youngest son proved more powerful than any
words a father could think of.
Adam had become the master
of persuasion at times on the ranch, knowing where to say the right thing in
situations that most people walked away from.
“Gee, thanks,
Pa,” Adam said good-naturedly.
He knew his father wasn’t forcing the task upon him, but he knew
that he would need all of his skills to try and convince Joe.
“I will talk to him
after supper,” Adam now suggested, not wanting to deprive his brother of
whatever meagre rest he was taking.
“I will see you in
town tomorrow, then, Ben,” Fred said, giving a wink towards Adam as if to
say that he knew Adam would already have won his brother by that time.
Ben now followed Fred out to
his horse and waited until the man was out of sight before coming back into the
house.
***********************************************************
Little Joe had woken up
later that afternoon, but continued to remain withdrawn and non-responsive at
their attempts to bring him out of his sullen mood. Hoss had taken measures into his
own hands about trying to cheer up his little brother and he had taken the
checker board and pieces to Joe’s room, hoping to at least have some one
on one contact with him.
Hoss was a little disappointed,
however, to see Joe obviously more distracted about other things than playing
the game. Joe really hadn’t
wanted to play in the first place, but didn’t have the heart to turn away
from his big brother’s grinning face. He knew Hoss was trying to make a
genuine effort to cheer him up so he told Hoss that he would play only a couple
of games.
Right from the outset,
though, even before Hoss had set the pieces up on either side of the board,
Joe’s attention seemed to be elsewhere but right in front of him. Normally, Joe wouldn’t have
any trouble beating his brother at such a simple game, but today, after two
games, Hoss found himself having won easily on both occasions. He even scratched his head silently at a
few of the moves Joe had made. The
moves were such that not even a novice player would normally make them without
knowing that it would result in his piece being captured by his opponent.
Joe had kept his promise of
a few games, no matter how badly he played. After four games, though, Hoss decided to see if he could get Joe
to tell him what was bothering him so much. In the past, Joe had always come
to his father Ben or to Adam to confide in them, but there was also a very
close relationship between the two of them.
“You alright,
Joe?” Hoss asked honestly. He
didn’t have the fancy words that Adam had learned from college or the
soothing ones that his Pa often uttered to Joe when he was upset about
something. Hoss just spoke things
as plain as he saw them, but hoped that Joe would still see the offer of help
in the same way. Hoss just wanted
to be there for his brother Joe when he needed it.
“Sure, Hoss,”
came the dull, uninterested reply from Joe. He was staring out the window again and
didn’t even look at Hoss when he said the words.
“Is there anything you
want to talk about, Joe?” Hoss now asked, the words feeling like an
uneasy lump in his throat as he spoke them.
Joe did turn to his brother
this time. He knew that Hoss only
meant well. “There is
nothing to talk about,” he said firmly.
“Joe, I don’t
know how else to help ya, boy,” Hoss now said. “I don’t want to upset you
but whatever is on your mind is eating up inside. We all want to help you,
Joe.”
“I’m fine,
Hoss,” Joe replied and then started to move about stiffly on the bed to
change his position. “I
am tired,” he added and now turned on his side and closed his eyes,
appearing to be wanting to sleep.
Hoss sighed as he knew this
was Joe’s way of saying that he didn’t want to discuss it
anymore. He picked up the chess
pieces and the board and walked out of the room.
“How is he,
son?” Ben asked from his desk as he saw Hoss’s slumped figure walk
down the stairs. He could see from
his large son’s expression that Hoss hadn’t managed to cheer his
brother up like he had wanted to.
“He’s downright
upset, Pa,” Hoss answered as he placed the chess board and pieces back in
their normal position on the coffee table.
“I tried to talk to him and ask him if he wanted to talk. He just said that there was nothing to
talk about and then lay down, saying he was tired. He’s not really tired, Pa. He’s just avoiding us all.”
“I know, son. I know,” Ben said, as he got up
and placed a firm but comforting hand on his son’s broad shoulder. “Its going to be a tough
road for us all. We just have to be
there for him when he is ready to talk.”
***********************************************************
After supper that evening,
Adam was trying to prepare what he was going to say to Joe to convince him
about moving to the International Hotel in the morning. Although Joe had only feigned sleep
initially to avoid Hoss’s questions, in the end he had fallen into a
fitful doze.
Ben had wandered up to his
son’s room just before the family sat down to the evening meal, but upon
seeing Joe asleep, he decided not to disturb the young man. He told Adam that he could take a
tray of supper up to the room when he went to have his little talk with Joe.
Adam now sighed as he
grabbed the tray that Hop Sing had prepared for Little Joe. The words were no clearer in his mind
now than when he first tried to work them out. He was just going to have to talk to Joe
about going to the hotel without the rehearsal.
He walked up the stairs and
headed towards the door. He knocked
on the door lightly and then looked down briefly to see his father and brother
looking back at him, hoping Adam would know what to say.
“Its open,” came
the quiet voice from inside. Adam
now walked inside with the tray in his hands.
“Hi, little
brother,” he greeted Joe.
Joe looked at him and gave him a wan smile but didn’t say
anything. He looked at the tray of
food that Adam had brought with him.
Just like the checkers and Hoss, he really didn’t want to have it,
but didn’t say anything to the contrary.
Adam seemed to relax a
little when he saw Joe pick up a fork and play with the food on his plate. Not much was being eaten, but at least
he was trying.
“So, why did Pa sent
you up here?” Joe asked, knowing that Adam had been sent for one reason
or another.
Adam was a little taken
aback that Joe suspected why he was there in the first place but quickly
regained his composure and hide his shock enough so it wasn’t
noticed. “What makes you
think I was sent up here to talk to you?” he now asked, genuinely
interested.
“Well, let’s
see, Pa and Mr Harding were up here this morning, asking a bunch of questions
and wanting to know what I knew before the trial. After I said I didn’t know
very much, Hoss came up later in the day and tried the same ploy after a few
games of checkers. Now you’re
here after Hoss. I am just
wondering when Hop Sing will appear at my beside with the same questions,” Joe now said. He didn’t really mean the words to
sound as sarcastic as they did.
“You know we are all
just trying to help you, Joe,” Adam now said, noting the slight
resentment in his brother’s voice.
“Yeah, that’s
the same line I have been hearing all day, too,” Joe replied and put a
spoonful of food into his mouth before he said anything else.
“Well, if you put it
like that, I won’t beat around the bush then,” Adam said. “I came up here to tell you about
the arrangements that have been made for tomorrow morning,” he added and
left the sentence unfinished. He
got the desired result, though, as Joe now looked up from his plate.
“What
arrangements?” he asked plainly.
“Mr Harding suggested
that it might be better if all of us stayed tomorrow night in Virginia
City. He just wants to make sure
that you get enough rest before the trial starts. It is not going to be an easy experience
for you. At least with the room, if
you get tired during the day, you can go and have a lie down if it all gets too
much.”
“Whatever,” Joe
said in the same uninterested tone of voice as before and now shifted his gaze
once more to his plate of barely touched food.
“You mean you
don’t object?” Adam asked, a little surprised that Joe wasn’t
shouting and yelling his list of reasons why not by now.
“Well, it seems that
everybody else is deciding what is right and what is not for me lately,”
Joe replied, still not looking while he spoke to Adam. “I don’t say I like the
idea, in fact, I really don’t want to go. But at the end of the day, I really
don’t care. If you and Pa and
the others want me to stay somewhere else, so be it.”
Adam could still hear the
slight bitterness in Joe’s voice and knew from his body language that Joe
was truthful when he said he didn’t agree with the arrangement. From past experience, though, Adam
expected his brother to be jumping up and down and shouting at the top of his
lungs about his protests.
The fact that he
didn’t made Adam worry all he
more about his self-confidence and the short fiery temper that just
wasn’t there like it used to be.
He didn’t press the issue though. Joe had said he didn’t want to go,
but would if he was told to. He
just hoped that Joe would be in a
better frame of mind by tomorrow once they reached the hotel.
“It really is to help
you, Joe. And don’t worry
about the court room because Hoss and I are going to make sure that everything
is secure. You won’t have to
worry about anything but answering Mr Harding’s questions. When it is all over we can all come back
home and get on with our lives once again.
Sleep well, little brother,” Adam
finally said, as he got off
the bed and left his brother’s room.
Yeah,
everything will be fine once its over Joe thought
to himself after Adam had left. He
knew that it wasn’t going to be fine like everybody said. None of them could hear Thomas’s
threats running through their heads like he could at the moment. Nobody could remember his face and the
scar that almost wanted to make him retch at the sight on it. Joe knew that things were going to
be far from fine once he reached the courtroom. He put the plate of food aside,
knowing that he didn’t need to keep up that little charade anymore
either.
“How did it go
son?” Ben asked before Adam had even reached the bottom of the
stairs.
“Alright, I
guess,” Adam said a little cautiously. “He said he didn’t want to
go but would because everybody was making the decisions around here for him
anyway,” he said, as he relayed Joe’s opinion to his father.
“Well, I suppose half
a battle won is better than none at all,” Ben said, the concern for his
son’s attitude clearly displayed on his face and in his speech.
“He really is
determined to shut the whole world out, Pa. He trying his best to ignore the problem
and thinks it will just go away if he doesn’t talk about it. I really don’t know how he is
going to cope when he is forced onto the witness stand,” Adam now said,
voicing his own observations.
“We will just have to
be there to support him as best we can, Adam,” Ben now said, having
almost the same conversation with his oldest son as he had done with Hoss a little
earlier.
***********************************************************
The morning came around
quickly enough, and it was now time to start preparing to move to the
International Hotel in Virginia City.
Ben and the boys worked to
make sure that the ranch hands knew what to do over the next couple of
days. The ranch foreman, Charlie,
had promised that everything would run just as smoothly with the Cartwrights in
town.
Each of them had gotten
together a small amount of clothes to last them the duration of the trial. As soon as Adam had finished his own
packing, he moved quietly about Joe’s room to do the same for his
brother. Adam looked over towards
the bed and noted that his brother seemed to be sleeping quite deeply at the
moment. A couple of times, Adam had
inadvertently dropped some items on the floor with a thud only to hastily look
over and see that the noise hadn’t disturbed Little Joe in the slightest.
Adam would not know that Joe
had lain awake for many hours last night, thinking about what he was going to
say when he was placed in the witness box.
He had to think hard of answers to give that would not be lies but also
wouldn’t give Thomas’s identity away. He had only fallen asleep shortly before
the rest of his family awoke to start the day.
By lunch time Joe was now awake and used his crutches
together with the steady support of his brother Hoss to descend the stairs with
his injured leg and climb into the back of the wagon that had been suitably prepared. Hoss had gone to great lengths to ensure
that although the trip to Virginia City was a relatively short one, it was also
to be as comfortable as possible for Joe.
Hoss had lined the bottom with a spare mattress and then covered the
mattress with arm loads of blankets and quilts. He just hoped that all the padding would
be enough to absorb the bumps and knocks from the road.
Ben had half expected Joe to
have a change of heart this morning about going to stay at the hotel and
announce that he wasn’t going anywhere. But Joe had not said very much at all
that morning about anything. Every
time his father looked towards him to see if he was alright, the boy seemed to
be lost in his own thoughts and in day-dreaming the time away.
Joe’s silence remained
for the entire trip to Virginia City as well. Ben sat beside him whilst Adam and
Hoss sat on top of the buck board and guided the team along the dirt road. A few times Ben had asked Joe if he was
feeling alright, but all he got in reply was a curt nod or the words “just
fine”. He was very worried
about how his son was going to cope over the next two to three days.
Fred Harding had greeted the
Cartwrights inside the hotel after they had pulled up outside and helped Joe
down. Adam and Hoss guided
Joe up to the room Fred was occupying.
Once inside, they could see two distinct areas to the room. There was the living area where Fred was
currently working on his plan for the court room the next day, and then there
was the sleeping quarters. All was
very spacious and the Cartwrights genuinely thanked the lawyer for allowing
their indulgence in such luxury.
Fred had been generous
enough to respect the Cartwright family’s privacy and so rented the
adjoining suite next to the one he had already rented on the day of his arrival. There was a doorway between the
two suites, but both remained completely separate. Fred would spend as much time with the
family as they requested, but thought that there would be times when Little Joe
or the other boys would rather have each other for company and support rather
than somebody who wasn’t part of the family.
When they first arrived
there had been a few words spoken between Fred and Ben about who was paying for
the accommodation. Ben thought it
only right that the family pay since they were using his services. Fred, on the other hand, was just as
determined at his counterpart and insisted that he pay. At the end of the day, they came to an
agreeable compromise and the bill was to be split completely down the middle to
satisfy everyone. Ben smiled a
little to himself at the tough battle of words he had briefly with Fred in a
friendly way. He just hoped that
Fred was just as inept with such determination and tenacity when it came to the
trial the next day.
Ben had ordered room service
to provide lunch in the room itself.
He had asked Joe if he wanted to eat in the restaurant downstairs, but
Joe told his father that he wasn’t very hungry, anyway. Once the food came, Joe picked at his
plate whilst everyone else ate their lunches. He then declared that he had a headache
and was going to lie down on one of the beds for a short while. Ben checked on him after finishing
his meal and found Joe to be sound asleep.
Adam and Hoss told their
father that they were going to go and check out the set out of the court room
for tomorrow and make sure the security was adequate. Fred continued to work on his case
against Griffiths.
Towards the latter part of
the afternoon, Adam and Hoss were still out of the room and Fred was still working
at the table in the living room.
Ben had tried to follow Fred the best he could, but after about two
hours the legal jargon and matters of law were a little beyond his
comprehension. He felt he was being
more of a hindrance to Fred by asking his endless stream of questions rather
than trying to assist the man in preparing for court. He decided to take himself into the
other room to check on Joe.
Ben walked into the room and
saw Joe was still asleep so he decided to pick up one of the books on the
bedside table left by the hotel management and do some light reading until Adam
and Hoss got back. He hadn’t
read but a few pages when he looked over and saw his son beginning to awake
from his slumber.
Joe opened his eyes and
rubbed at them tiredly for a moment.
He looked about the room and had to get his bearings and remind himself
of where he was at first. Once he
remembered he was at the hotel he started pulling himself up into a sitting
position on the bed. It was now
that he noticed someone else in the room.
He looked over and saw his father intently watching him from the other
side of the room.
“Feel a little better,
son?” Ben asked once Joe seemed awake enough.
“Yeah, sort of,”
Joe replied and to prove it got off the bed and walked awkwardly over to the
two French doors leading out onto the balcony. He felt like the room was closing in on
him and he opened the doors to allow some fresh air to come inside.
He didn’t walk out onto
the balcony, but remained just inside the room looking out at the streets of
Virginia City and seemingly lost in his own thoughts again.
Ben’s concern for his
son got the better of him again as he walked over towards his son and stood
behind him. “Do you want to
talk?” he asked, deliberately not selecting a topic for the
conversation.
Joe wasn’t fooled,
however, as he felt his father’s hand on his slender shoulder. He knew all too well what his
father wanted to talk about.
The frustration level in him had been building up for days now. He had been suppressing it and
suppressing it until he almost couldn’t bear to keep his feelings in
anymore. He felt like running out
onto the balcony and screaming at the top of his lungs just to release some of
the anger and bitterness that was inside of him.
He shrugged off the hand on
his shoulder and now turned away from the window entirely and retraced his
awkward steps across to the other side of the room. Now he turned and faced his father.
“I know you’re
scared, son,” Ben now said gently as he looked at the accusing look on
Joe’s face. He could see his
son struggling with his emotions and trying so hard to keep control.
“Its going to work
out, Joseph,” Ben started to say.
He was unprepared for the violent reaction that he would provoke from
his son.
“How can you stand
there and say that?” Little Joe now accused his father. The tension in
the room was very thick. Joe looked
at his father with fear and anger in his eyes and scolding words on his tongue. “How can you stand there and
tell me that everything is going to be alright? We all know darned well that it is
not.”
“I have got to go into
that court room tomorrow and get in that witness box. Everybody keeps telling me that it will
be fine. I am the one who is scared
to open his bedroom window at night or leave the house I grew up in. So why do I feel like I am the one on
trial here?” his voice was trembling slightly and his emotions were on
the verge of betraying him.
“Joseph, we are only trying to help you,”
Ben said with a little sadness in his tone. He knew that they were handling the boy
with kid-gloves and wrapping him up in cotton wool. The only thing that they were getting
from it all was an angry young man, who felt like he was suffocating from all
the attention. Joseph often hid his
true feelings at the best of times and with something like this happening, it
only made the kid build his barricades around him that bit higher.
“Your brothers and I
will be there to back you up all the way.
We won’t let anybody bully you,” Ben added, trying to reassure his son. “I
know it is going to be difficult for you, but when you go in there, all you
need to do is tell the truth.
“Truth!………”
Joe spat. “The truth is that
there are things that are going to come out in that courtroom that you may not
want to hear, Pa,” Joe said, as he thought about his family and friends
hearing about what had happened to him in the abandoned shack.
Tears now welled in his eyes as Joe fought against his
frustrations. How could he tell
them how scared he was? Didn’t they know that he lay awake most nights,
remembering Thomas’s face as he shot at the chair? Didn’t they see the palms of his
hands that were sweating from his nervousness. His hands were clenched so tight at
times that his fingernails dug into them and left marks.
Every time he felt a twinge of pain from his injured
leg or felt one of the fading bruises on his ribs, he was taken back to the
exact moment that he received them.
Taken back to the abandoned shack.
He could almost feel the rope around his hands again and the chafing
marks around his neck. The memories
never seemed to go away. Never.
“I just need to be alone right now, Pa,”
Joe finally said in a quiet voice.
Ben nodded his head and fought against the urges that
told him his son needed him to stay with him. He had just been telling himself about
how much they were all suffocating him.
Without saying anything else, he made himself be strong and do as his
son asked of him.
When he reached the living room he could see Adam and
Hoss standing just outside the door.
The looks on their faces told him that they had heard most of the
conversation between him and Joe.
There was one question that stood out the most for all three of
them. What were those things that
Joe spoke about when he said there were things they didn’t know about?
***********************************************************
The next morning, there was no mention of what had
transpired the night before. Nobody
tried to drag up anything about the harsh words that Joe had said to his
father.
Ben and his boys all reminded themselves that they
were there to support Joe, no matter what.
In the back of their minds, though, they couldn’t help but wonder
what things Joe had been talking about when he said it was better that they
didn’t find out about them.
Joe had eaten a small amount of food at the
encouragement of his family. He
also knew that he wouldn’t be able to last the day without some
nourishment in his stomach.
By 8.30 that morning, they had all made their way down
to the courtroom to prepare for the beginning of the trial at 9.00am. Joe sat in the front row of chairs, lost
in his own thoughts for a few minutes while Fred went about getting his
paperwork in order and making sure he was ready to proceed.
Joe looked around the room. This was the room that everybody was
saying he could feel safe in. That
it was a place that was respected by most people. Instead, the only thing he could sense
from the cold, hard wooden surfaces and the plain, undecorated desks and chairs
was the sense of alienation and accusations. The atmosphere was almost as cold and
hard as they were, and the feeling of unfriendliness all around Little
Joe.
A few minutes before the trial was due to begin, Danny
Griffiths was brought over from the jailhouse by Sheriff Roy Coffee. He was still in handcuffs when
placed in the dock. He did his best
to glare at Little Joe and try and unnerve him.
Joe diverted his eyes and tried to look somewhere else
to stop the well of emotions that were starting to multiply within him. Every time his eyes were drawn back to
Griffiths, the only memories he had were the ones where he had been laughing at
Joe’s torment and torture.
Joe had to bury his head in his hands to stop himself from getting to
upset. He remembered how Griffiths
had taken aim at one of the chair legs as he was helplessly suspended by the rope
around his neck.
Adam and Ben had noted the paleness of Joe’s
face and saw him struggling with his emotions. Although they both knew that Joe
wouldn’t appreciate a public display of concern, they walked over to
where he was sitting and sat down on either side of him.
By this time, Joe had averted his eyes from Griffiths
so as not to give away the cause to his distress. Ben and Adam both assumed that
Joe’s nervousness was his impending time in the witness box and being
forced to relive events he would rather forget. The part about him reliving past events
could not have been more correct at the moment.
“Are you alright, son?” Ben asked in a gentle voice.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Pa,” Joe said in all
honesty.
“I know you can, Joe,” Adam said, trying to reassure his
brother with positive words.
Joe looked at his father and brother but left the comment
unanswered. Fred Harding had
motioned for Ben and Adam to join him briefly at the bar table where he would
conduct the trial. He was delivering
some
last-minute instructions to the older Cartwrights as to how things
would proceed in just a few minutes.
No matter how hard he tried to fight the feeling, Joe found his gaze
wandering back to Griffiths in the dock.
Griffiths knew that he couldn’t afford to make any noticeable
gestures at him. But he wanted to
give him a warning all the same.
Thomas had been careful enough to ensure him that everything was taken
care of and that he had taken care of things in relation to Little Joe Cartwright. All messages and instructions had been
delivered through either Griffiths lawyer, Eugene Simpson, or through Henry
Williams so as not to arouse suspicion.
Griffiths had taken confidence in the threats that Thomas had made
towards Joe Cartwright and about what would happen to him if he identified any
of them. Hell, Griffiths himself
had enough nous about himself to be a little afraid of Thomas.
There had been something about the way the man conducted himself,
especially back at the abandoned shack after they had kidnapped
Cartwright.
Danny now looked directly at Joe Cartwright as he sat in the front row
of chairs and silently mouthed a message to him from Butch Thomas.
“He will be watching.”
Joe saw and could understand the lip movements that Griffiths
made. He was also very sure of who
‘he’ was.
From the moment he had arrived, Joe had anxiously waited to identify
any of the people coming into the courtroom. He was forced to make himself relax
again as he recognized one of Virginia’s City own citizens. With the
gossip running rife around town about what had happened to Little Joe the first
time and the fresh events over the last few days, there wasn’t a person
in the town that wasn’t at least a little bit curious about what would
happen at the trial.
By this time, Eugene Simpson had arrived and he had been taking
instructions from his client Danny Griffiths, or had the truth been really
known, giving them to Griffiths from Thomas. Both knew that Thomas would make
his appearance at some stage during the trial.
Thomas was the type of person who had to see the results of his own
handiwork. That was one of the main
reasons he had made the second attack on Joe Cartwright at the Ponderosa. He revelled in his own glorification and
the fact that he caused such fear in people. His appearance, though, would be at a
time of his choosing. He wanted to
see the knife driven in just a little further before he put his own hand on the
handle and twisted it that little bit more.
Fred Harding tried to reassure his witness again that everything would
be alright. Joe never acknowledged
that he heard the words. He was
again lost in his own thoughts. The whole courtroom was then told to rise by
the court Bailiff “All rise,
his honour, Judge Collins, to preside over these proceedings”.
All eyes watched the little, balding Judge that appeared from one of
the back rooms. The judge then sat
down and looked about his bench to ensure that all of his writing equipment was
laid out before him.
“You may all be seated,” the Bailiff now informed the
packed public gallery. Everyone
compiled with the oral instructions.
“Good morning, gentlemen.
This is the matter of the People versus one Danny Griffiths,” the
Judge said, as he began his little introduction speech.
“Stand up, Mr Griffiths,” the Judge now demanded of the
defendant. Griffiths complied.
“You stand before me, charged that on a date unknown you
kidnapped one Joseph Francis Cartwright and caused him actual bodily harm. You also stand charged before me that
you stole two saddlebags, the property of the said Joseph Francis Cartwright,
and tried to gain a benefit, namely cash, for the said items when you were not
the lawful owner thereof.”
Joe inwardly gulped when the Judge had said the words ‘bodily
harm’ and involuntarily, his hands moved to his still injured leg and
rubbed at the ache that was present.
“Sit down, Mr Griffiths,” the Judge instructed Danny.
“Counsel, will you announce your appearances for the purposes of
these proceedings, please,”
Judge Collins asked, as he continued with the formal aspects of the
trial.
“If it pleases the court, Your Honour, my name is Frederick
Harding, and I represent the people of Virginia City in this matter,”
Harding said, as he introduced himself first in accordance with court room
protocol.
“If it pleases you, Your Honour, my name is Eugene Simpson, and I
will be representing Mr Griffiths, the defendant in these proceedings,”
Simpson now said in reply, introducing himself in turn.
“These proceedings may be conducted by way of trial with or
without a jury. The election
solely rests with the prosecution Mr Harding, which method do you choose here
today?”
“Your Honour, the prosecution elects to have the matter heard
solely before yourself and without the use of the good citizens of Virginia
City in a jury.”
“Very well, then.
Begin the proceedings, Mr Harding, you have the floor.”
“Your Honour, the prosecution calls its first witness, Doctor
Paul Martin, to the witness stand.”
Doc Martin was seated in the row behind the Cartwrights and now made
his way towards the witness stand, which was positioned to the left of the
Judge’s bench.
The Bailiff approached the Virginia City doctor and placed a Bible in
his right hand “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth so help you God?”
“I swear,” Doc Martin replied and then sat down on the hard
wooden seat.
Fred now walked around the other side of the prosecution table and
stood in front of it to examine the doctor. “Doctor, do you
remember the events that we are here about today?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I want you to relay to the court in your own words what you have
come to know about this case. Take
your time, but please be as specific as you can and leave no detail out even if
you think its not relevant.”
“Well, I am not able to give you too much information about the
kidnapping of Little Joe Cartwright.
I wasn’t brought into the matter until after he was found by
members of his family and brought home for medical attention.”
“I’ll stop you there doctor. What contact had you had before he was
brought home from the shack?”
“Well, Ben Cartwright, his father had me take a look at him after
he had been on a camping trip with his brother Hoss. Seems there was a slight accident with a
bear cub, and Ben thought it would be better if I take a look at the injury the
next day.”
“So, before he was taken away from his family, Joe Cartwright
seemed in relatively good health to you, doctor?”
“Yes, apart from the scratch on his arm, I’d say he was in
perfect health.”
“Alright, continue what you know about after Joe was brought back
to the Ponderosa.”
“Well, when I first saw him, he was in grave condition. He was suffering from exposure in addition
to the numerous injuries he had sustained one way or another.”
“Are you able to tell the court what those injuries were?”
Joe struggled hard to keep his composure during this description. Why did the doctor need to repeat the
injuries? He had felt the pain
every day. He didn’t need to
be reminded about how bad he was hurt.
The bandage on his leg at the moment was still very painful and he still
needed to use the crutches to walk properly. Joe failed to see the sense in dragging
up information that was already known.
He turned his head away as the doctor spoke and tried to think about
something else to help clear his mind.
“Joe had a very badly injured ankle as the result of it becoming
entangled in a trapper’s rusty trap.
The wounds were very deep and required a lot of attention to clean them
out. The wounds needed stitches,
and it will still be another few weeks before Joe can put full weight back on
his ankle. His ribs were very badly
bruised. I was surprised that
none of them were cracked or broken.
He had innumerable cuts and abrasions on other parts of his body, his
feet, his hands. There was a slight
gash to his head where he had been struck with a blunt object. Although I am not able to tell you what
sort of object it was.”
Ben and his family could hear the gasps and whispers of shock and
surprise as the list of injuries were read out loud. Ben was barely able to contain his own
emotions about hearing of his child’s torment and pain. He looked over to where Joe was only
sitting next to him and knew that the boy was struggling to deal with it as
well.
Fred Harding inwardly winced at the doctor’s description, but
kept up the professional image of the court room. “Were there any other injuries on
Joseph Cartwright when you firstly examined him, Doctor?”
Doc Martin thought for a moment before answering the prosecutor’s
question “Yes, there was a
very distinct rope impression around his neck. But there was also another injury. Only a slight one. I showed it to his father when I found
it because neither of us could work out what it was caused by.”
“What was it, Doctor Martin?”
“A small perfectly round bruise on his right temple. Too small to cause any major discomfort
or pain.”
“And you are still unable to say what caused the bruise to Mr
Cartwrights temple?”
“No, I am not able to say.”
“Did Mr Cartwright ever confide in you as his physician and tell
you anything about the person or persons who might have done this to
him?”
“No, he never did. I was
willing to be a third party for the boy if that’s what he wanted in case
he felt unable to go to his family, but he never told me anything about the
persons who might have been responsible for these injuries.”
“When was the next contact you had with Joseph Cartwright after
that night?”
“Well, for a while there I had contact with him every day,
several times a day because his injuries were so severe and needed constant
medical attention.”
“How long would you say that you attended Mr Cartwright on a daily
basis?”
“On a daily basis, I would say for a week. After that it became more scattered,
every two days or so. That was
until the latest incident a few days ago.”
“Tell us what you know about that incident, Doctor.”
“Well, its not much different from the first occasion. I came into it once the injuries had
taken place. They weren’t so
much life-threatening this time but still required some attention and would be
extremely painful for the young man.”
“Do you expect Mr Cartwright to have any lasting effects from
these incidents, Doctor?”
“In terms of physical injuries, I doubt it. His leg is taking a little longer than I
would have liked to heal and it still bothering him to a great degree. But if you are talking about emotional
or physiological scars, then I am not qualified to give evidence on such
matters here today. Those types of
matters require a specialist’s opinion, well out of my league.”
“But surely, as the young man’s doctor, you have made an
informed opinion based on the medical facts before you about how the boy is
doing emotionally.”
“Well, I have to say that from my past experience and knowledge
of Joseph Cartwright over the years, he had definitely become more withdrawn
from his family. He seems to still
hold some fears about what happened to him…………”
“Objection, Your Honour,” Simpson now said, jumping to his
feet and moving in before Doc Martin could finish the sentence. “As the
doctor says, he is in no professional capacity to give evidence on matters
dealing with emotional or physiological injuries that may have been suffered by
the complainant in these matters.”
“Yes, Mr Simpson. Mr
Harding, you will have to refrain from asking such questions of this witness
and move onto your next question,” the Judge said, in ruling on the
objection. Simpson sat down with a
satisfied look on his face of a small battle being won by his side.
“I withdraw the question, Your Honour,” Fred said
respectfully. He knew that Simpson
would be right there to object to anything that didn’t suit his client.
“I have no further questions for this witness, Your
Honour,” Fred said, as he shuffled through his papers to make sure that
he had finished the examination.
“Your witness, Mr Simpson,” the Judge now said to the
defence lawyer.
“Doctor, you stated in your evidence that there was an unusual
mark on Mr Cartwright when you examined him that first night. Are you able to make an educated guess
as to what or who might have caused such an injury. I realise you have already said that you
do not, but I will ask you again, anyway.”
“No, I am still very puzzled to this day as to what or who may
have caused such a perfectly round circle to the boy’s temple. Even if he had fallen, the mark is not
consistent with being caused by something such as a rock or a protruding
stick. I do not know what caused
the mark.”
As Ben looked over at his youngest son, he saw a look on the boy’s face
that told him the boy knew exactly what had made the mark. He saw that the boy’s face was a
little pale but still looked fine for the moment. Joe kept looking at his feet. The doctor’s descriptions and the
questions being asked by both lawyers seemed to be echoing in his head. He was certain that the noise level
inside his head was going to cause him to have a headache by the end of this
long day.
“What makes you say that the mark around the boy’s neck was
made by a rope? Couldn’t it
have been made by something other than a length of rope?”
“No” Paul said with affirmation in his voice. “There was no mistaking what
caused the chafing mark on the skin around his neck.”
“Why do you say that, Doctor?”
“Because I could see the individual rope fibres marked into his
skin. The rope had been so
tight around his neck at some stage that the mark took quite a number of days
to fade away. I could see the
plaiting of the fibres and the twist of those plaits that made the piece of
rope.”
Ben clenched his fists in to tight balls at the doctor’s
words. He had been angry when he
first seen the marks and knew them to be made by a rope. Now Doctor Martin was giving explicit
descriptions about how tight the rope was and how it caused such painful
chafing to his son’s young, tender skin. He could see the same look of anger in
the brown eyes of Adam and the blue ones of Hoss.
Joe was trying to block out the memory of how the rope felt as it was
tightened. He could almost feel it
now like it had been when Thomas had lifted him off the ground so his feet
wouldn’t touch. He
could still feel the knot at the back of his neck that formed the knot of the
noose itself. His throat became
incredibly dry now as he remembered painfully what it felt like to not be able
to breath because the rope was so tight.
“What do you say caused the gash on his head that you described
earlier?”
“Like I said before, I don’t know. The pattern of the injury suggests that
it was a blunt object of some kind.
Could have been anything.
The wound itself wasn’t too deep but might have caused Joe to lose
consciousness when he received the blow.”
“But you are not able to confirm here today that he lost
consciousness due to that injury, are you, doctor?”
“No, I am not.”
“Thank you, Your Honour, I have no further questions for this
witness” Simpson said, as he completed his cross-examination of the Doctor.
“Thank you, Doctor, you may step down from the witness
box,” the Judge now said to Paul.
“Your Honour, if it pleases, the family has specifically
requested that the Doctor be allowed to stay in the court room in an official
capacity today. As you can see, Mr
Cartwright still has difficulty walking without assistance and with his
additional injuries, he may require the doctor to administer certain pain
reliefs and give other medical attention during the course of today.”
“Request allowed. Let
it be noted that the doctor may speak out if he believes Mr Cartwright is
becoming unwell during the course of his evidence or at any other time during
this trial,” the Judge now said.
The Cartwright family collectively sighed in relief at this
request. At least Joe could any
medical attention if he needed it.
Paul had planned to stick around anyway, but was glad to be able to
monitor Joe more openly. He had
noticed how pale the young man had appeared when he first came into the court
room today. He was afraid that Joe
wasn’t getting the correct amount of rest to heal his injuries.
“Your next witness, Mr Harding?” the Judge now asked.
“Yes, Your Honour, the prosecution now calls Sheriff Roy Coffee
to the stand.”
Roy now made his way to the stand.
His deputy stayed beside the defendant, Danny Griffiths, just to make
sure that he didn’t try and flee the court room whilst Roy was giving his
evidence.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but
the truth so help you God,” the court Bailiff asked, as the Bible was
placed into Roy’s right hand.
“I do,” Roy answered and now took his seat in the witness box.
“Could you please state you full and correct name for the court
and your occupation, please?” Fred asked, as he began the examination of
the law enforcement officer.
“My name is Roy Coffee and I am the current Sheriff of Virginia
City.”
“Can you please relay to the court, in your own words, the events
that led up to you having to arrest the defendant?” Fred said, asking his
first question.
“Yes. I was
patrolling the town like most other days and just happened to walk past the
second-hand store that Mr Perkins owned.
I could hear two people
talking inside. The discussion
became a little heated and that’s when that fellow over there grabbed at
Mr Perkins, threatening to hurt him.
I told him that he was under arrest for attempted assault and battery on
Mr Perkins and then forced him to my jailhouse until I had time to make some
further inquiries into the matter.”
During the whole time Roy was talking, Eugene Simpson could be seen to
be taking some notes at a furious pace.
“When was the next time you saw the defendant, Sheriff, after he
was released form custody?”
“The next time I saw him was when me and Adam Cartwright followed
him to an abandoned shack up by Pine Valley.”
Fred asked the next question, but fully expected Simpson to be on the
ball and object even before the question was finished being asked. He decided to take a punt and see how
far he got, anyway.
“Did Danny Griffiths
ever admit anything to you that would tie him to the kidnapping and assault of
Joseph Cartwright?”
“Yes. Yes he
did. He started to torment
Joe’s brother Adam once we was at the shack……..” Roy
started to say.
“I object strongly, Your Honour,” Simpson said, as he now
jumped to his feet once again. He
also gave a scowling look towards Fred Harding as if to say that the
prosecution should know better about allowing the answer to such a question.
“Your Honour, the witness cannot answer the question because he
will be giving hearsay evidence.
The Sheriff cannot be expected to repeat someone else’s words in
court.”
“Mr Simpson has a valid point, Mr Harding,” the Judge said,
ruling in the defence’s favour.
“Sheriff, you cannot give any evidence here today about what
somebody else said or did that the person didn’t say direct to you. Such talk is called hearsay and is not
permissible in a court of law. Now,
did the conversation that the prosecution is asking about take place between
you and the defendant?”
“No, it was between Danny Griffiths and Adam Cartwright,”
the Sheriff answered, a little frustrated that he had the necessary information
to give the court about Joe’s kidnapping. Somehow, he was being gagged by
legal jargon and being prevented from repeating what he had overheard.
“Then I am afraid you will have to answer differently Sheriff, or
you will have to rephrase your question, Mr Harding,” the Judge now said,
giving the prosecution a stern look of his own. Fred knew that he had overstepped the
boundaries, so to speak, but he was trying to get a spontaneous response from
the witnesses that the defence wouldn’t be able to rebut in anyway.
“Since these events, Sheriff, have you made any attempts to try and
take a statement from Joseph Cartwright?”
“Well, I have made some attempts before the latest incident. At first, the family thought that he
needed some time to recover from his injuries and overcome his insecurities. After the second attack on him, Joe just
seemed to clam up to everyone, including his family. I haven’t been able to get too
much information out of him at all about what happened.”
“Thank you, Your Honour, no further questions for this
witness,” Fred said with a little frustration creeping into his
voice. That examination had not
exactly gone as smoothly as he would have liked.
“Your witness, Mr Simpson,” the Judge now said. So far they had not heard a great deal
of evidence pointing any blame towards the defendant’s involvement in this
matter at all. They had a lot of
medical evidence of the injuries and so forth, but no solid concrete evidence
to tie Danny Griffiths to being responsible for any of them.
Simpson now rose from his table and made his way over towards the
witness box. He had quite a few
questions to ask the lawman, some of them more invasive than others. He wanted
to be right there to gauge the Sheriff’s reaction to them. To see him squirm, so to speak, when the
spot light was focused on him.
“Sheriff Coffee, before the incident at the second-hand shop, did
you know my client at all?”
“No, not at all.
Until I saw him with Mr Perkins, I have never seen him before in my
life. I had not even seen him in
Virginia City at the saloons or anywhere else.”
“Do you believe yourself to be a vigilant lawman, Sheriff? By that I mean: do you make it your business to keep
tabs on the comings and goings of various people to the town?”
“Yes, I do. When the
stage comes into town and leaves again, I try to get as much information as
possible as to the newcomers and the leavers to Virginia City. Sometimes I don’t even have to
ask. Most of the people in this
town know my routine and often give me the information before I have to ask for
it.”
“So on the morning that you arrested my client, what made you
single him out in particular about being a stranger in Virginia City?”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, nothing at first. I didn’t even notice him until I
was walking past Mr Perkins’s store on my daily walk. I happened to hear voices inside and
just thought I’d say howdy to whoever was inside.”
“You mean you decided to play nosy.”
“Nosy no; alert to the goings-on in my town, yes-” Roy
answered- getting a little annoyed at the implied accusations that seemed to be
being hurled in his direction by the defence lawyer.
“What did you see or hear when you walked into the second-hand
store?”
“I heard your client over there talking to Mr Perkins about
purchasing some saddlebags that he had in his possession.”
“Sounds like a harmless enough business transaction taking place,
Sheriff. Why did you decided to
intervene?”
“I only intervened when the conversation turned a little
nasty. Mr Perkins started asking
questions about the ownership of the saddlebags. Griffiths over there got a little bit
hot under the collar about the whole thing and started to raise his voice at
Perkins. I introduced myself and
told Griffiths to calm down a little bit.”
“That is when your client seemed to get even more agitated. He demanded Perkins buy the saddlebags
no matter who owned them and grabbed the front of the store-keeper’s
shirt and threatened to assault him.
That’s when I took a hold of your client and told him that he was
under arrest for the attempted assault and battery of Mr Perkins.”
“Sounds like you have worked out an airtight alibi for your
actions, doesn’t it, Sheriff?”
“I don’t know what you mean” Roy now asked but his
facial expression gave him away, just a little.
“Oh, come now, Sheriff.
You didn’t arrest my client because he tried to threaten the
store-keeper, did you? And please remember that you are under oath.”
Roy looked nervous all of a sudden, but decided that he didn’t
see any point in not telling the court the whole story. Joe was now home safely so it should be
alright to reveal the real reason behind why he had arrested Griffiths.
“The attack on Mr Perkins wasn’t the sole reason for
arresting Danny Griffiths,” Roy answered. He could hear a few mumbled comments
from the rear of the courtroom at this admission.
Simpson grinned like a Cheshire cat with this little piece of
information. He decided to probe
into the real reason even more while the coals where still hot, so to speak.
“What was the other reason, Sheriff?”
“The other reason I arrested Danny Griffiths was that when I got
a look at the saddlebags he was trying to sell, I recognized who those
saddlebags belonged to.”
“Who did they belong to, Sheriff?”
“Little Joe Cartwright”.
“Even so, why did you assume that my client had anything to do
with Mr Cartwrights abduction and disappearance?”
“Well at that stage, Joe Cartwright was still missing. The family had had threats of harming
the boy if they involved the law.
We still didn’t have any leads as to who took him or where they
were keeping him. They had received
a ransom note by that stage, but no clues as to where the boy was being kept
against his will. We needed some answers
in order to try and find him before he got hurt.”
“How did you know that those particular saddlebags belonged to
the missing boy, Sheriff?”
“Well, the thing that made me look the hardest when I first found
them was the fact that there were initials carved into the leather on each of
them. Also, I had seen Ben
Cartwright give him saddlebags that looked just like those ones. The initials were J.F.C. so I acted on a
hunch that Mr Griffiths there might know more about the boy’s
whereabouts.”
“The initials, you say, were J.F.C., Sheriff? But those initials could have belonged
to quite a few people, couldn’t they?” “There could be other
people out there with those very same initials?”
“I suppose so,” Roy said truthfully “But I don’t remember
anybody else in town with those initials lately. They just looked so distinctive to me at
the time.”
“So you agree with me when I suggest that although you thought
the saddlebags belonged to Joe Cartwright, it is possible that they belonged to
someone totally different altogether?”
“Yes, I would have to agree, reluctantly. But I suppose the possibility is
there.”
“And isn’t it also possible then, that because somebody
else could have owned the saddlebags that day, that it was also the case that
Mr Griffiths came into possession of those very saddlebags by legitimate means. That is, he was the rightful owner of
them and had every right to try and sell them to Mr Perkins in the second-hand
store if he so wanted to?”
“I guess that is also possible, but I doubt it.”
“I am not after your personal opinion, Sheriff, just a yes or no
would suffice!”
“Yes,” Roy answered sternly but made sure that the lawyer
saw the look of displeasure on his face.
“What were your intentions with my client after you wrongfully
arrested him and took him back to your jailhouse?” the lawyer now asked,
knowing that the Sheriff was getting a little annoyed at the cynicism in his
line of questioning.
“My intentions were solely to see if Griffiths did know anything
about Joe’s disappearance. I
wanted to be sure that he might know where the boy was being held. If Joe had had the saddlebags with him
when he was taken, I logically assumed that Griffiths might have been involved
with his abduction. Where would he
get the saddlebags otherwise?”
“You seemed to have made a lot of haphazard guesses and hunches
during this whole investigation, haven’t you, Sheriff?” Simpson
asked, laying it on thickly.
“No, I just looked at the clues and information I had before me
and made short concise decisions as to how to approach finding Joe Cartwright
alive and unharmed for his family.
At no time did I do anything that was illegal or underhanded. Your client was arrested lawfully for
the attempted assault on Mr Perkins.
Mr Perkins chose not to press charges and Danny Griffiths was released
almost as soon as that happened.”
“Were you with Griffiths the whole time he was in the jailhouse,
Sheriff, up until the time he was released?”
“No. After I had
attended to the paperwork for the jailhouse, I left my deputy in charge of the
prisoner and continued my daily routine.”
“And where did you go after that, Sheriff?” Simpson asked,
already guessing at the destination in mind at the time.
“I rode out to the Ponderosa ranch,” Roy answered
truthfully.
“Why did you ride out there?” the lawyer started to
ask. “No, wait, let me put it
to you this way: Your intentions
for going out to the Cartwrights’ ranch was to tell them that you had
somebody in custody you suspected of having something to do with their missing
family member, is that right, Sheriff?”
“Yes. I went out
there to tell Ben that I had arrested somebody that I had found with
Joe’s saddlebags. I told him
that once Griffiths was released from the jailhouse, I intended to follow him
to see if he could lead me to Little Joe.”
“What was Ben Cartwrights response to this plan?”
“To tell you the truth, at first both Ben and Hoss Cartwright
were about to tear me limb from limb when I suggested letting Griffiths
go. They wanted to go over there
and beat the stuffing out of him to get him to tell them where Little Joe
was. I told them that I thought he
wouldn’t tell them anyway, so I suggested that we follow him without him
knowing.”
“So you decided to play a little game of deception, isn’t
that right, Sheriff?”
“If that’s what you want to call it. I just wanted to see Joe Cartwright returned
to his family, safe and well.”
“What did you do after you let him go from the jailhouse,
Sheriff?”
“I waited for the search party to arrive, and then we give
Griffiths a few hours head start before we started following his trail.”
“Who was in that search party, Sheriff Coffee?”
“Ben Cartwright, of course, and his two sons Adam and Hoss, plus
me.”
“How long do you estimate that you and the search party followed
Griffiths up towards Pine Valley?”
“I guess we followed for a couple of hours, but then Adam
Cartwright and I split up from Ben and Hoss. They took a different trail while we
continued on after Griffiths.”
“Why did the four of you split into pairs?”
“Because the tracks showed signs of Griffiths slowing down some
and we thought that maybe he was getting wise to the idea that he was being
followed. We wanted to cut off his
escape route in case he tried to make a run for it. So, Ben and Hoss took a rougher trail
that would make sure Griffiths couldn’t double back to town on us without
us knowing. As it was, Adam
Cartwright and I waited another spell to give Griffiths a little more distance
in front of us.”
“I won’t be much longer, Sheriff. One more question, though,”
said Simpson, now indicating that
he was almost finished the cross-examination.
“When you got to this abandoned shack that has been spoken of
here today, was there ever any indication that Joseph Cartwright had been there
at any time? Were there any signs
that if he was there that it had been against his will?”
“No, there wasn’t anything at all to indicate that Little
Joe had been there recently. There
were two rooms to the shack. It was
a place that was probably used by trappers a long time ago during the trapping
season. There was a living room
with a dirt floor and then a small, pokey little room off to one side.”
“Just outside the shack there was evidence to suggest that a fire
had been there in the past few days.
Maybe used for cooking food or heating coffee or such. In the small room there were some pieces
of timber that had been broken off the bottom of the far wall. In the main living room
there was only a couple of chairs, and even one of those had broken
legs.”
Simpson read back over his notes one more time to make sure that he
hadn’t forgotten anything.
“Thank you, Your Honour, I have no further questions for this
witness.”
“Sheriff Coffee, you are free to resume your normal duties of
guarding the prisoner,” Judge Collins now said, as he dismissed Roy from
the witness stand.
“Your Honour, if I may have a few minutes before calling my next
witness,” Fred Harding now said to the Judge.
The Judge nodded his head in acknowledgement and said that the
prosecutor could have as long as was necessary.
Fred now walked over towards his next witness, who was still sitting
between his father Ben and brother Adam. It wasn’t until the
prosecutor was standing right in front of him that Joe even looked up to the
man. Fred frowned a little as he
saw the nervous and apprehension etched in Joe’s facial features. He looked a little pale but not overly
so. He motioned for Doc Martin to
approach them for a minute.
“How does he look to you, Doc?”
Doc Martin bent down in front of Little Joe and tried to be as gentle
as he could but still show a little air of professionalism whilst being in the
courtroom. “How are you
feeling Joe?” he asked simply.
Joe looked at the doctor but took a few seconds to answer the question.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered and then let
his gaze fall back towards the floor boards once more. Ben didn’t hesitate to put a
reassuring arm around his slim shoulders, despite the fact that they were in
public and in a court of law. All
Ben knew was that Joe needed his reassurance and guidance during this difficult
time and he was only too happy to provide it no matter where they were.
Fred now turned back towards the Judge. “Your Honour, looking at the time
it is now getting on towards the luncheon break. I wonder if I might indulge the court’s
lenience and be granted an adjournment to enable my next witness to prepare his
case. Mr Joseph Cartwright is the
only witness left here today, but his testimony is going to take some time, I
would think. Rather than have him
start giving his evidence and interrupt him halfway through…………” He left the sentence unfinished, hoping
the Judge got the general idea of his request.
Judge Collins was alert, however, and had seen the family doctor called
over to take a look at the pale figure sitting in the front row. The young man really did look as though
he needed some fresh air before giving his evidence. The Judge made a mental note to make the
experience as easy as possible on the young man, especially seeing as how he
was still in pain from the injuries he had received.
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Mr Harding,” Judge
Collins now answered aloud for everybody to hear. “This court will reconvene at 2.00
pm. Court is now adjourned,”
he said and struck his gavel on the desk to emphasis his decision.
Joe couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the Judge’s
words. He now slumped back against
the chair and allowed his body to relax a little. His leg had begun aching
somewhat badly halfway through Doc Martin’s testimony, but he
didn’t want to cause his family any unnecessary worry. Hopefully by the time they returned
after lunch, the leg wouldn’t be aching so much. And maybe by then the voices in his head
would stop talking to him.
***********************************************************
Ben waited together with Doc Martin, Fred Harding and his family for
everyone else to leave the courtroom before they worried about going anywhere.
There were a few brief discussions as to where to eat. The final decision rested on the
International Hotel where they were staying. They all wanted to avoid a few of the
other establishments in Virginia City in case they ran into the Judge
proceeding over the trial. It
wasn’t against any law or anything, but it was considered protocol not to
be seen together whilst such events were taking place. After the trial was over, it
wouldn’t matter if they were seen in public together too much.
“Ready to go and get something to eat, son?” Ben now asked
Joe. Joe had sat through all of the
discussions about lunch without saying a word. He had also remained silent as the
others discussed the morning’s events and what was to come in the after
when they returned.
“Yeah,” Joe said in an uninterested tone. He even let his father help him fumble
with his crutches and everybody in the room knew this was a particularly worry
sign in the young man’s demeanour.
Joe looked as if he was willing to go along with anything someone else
said just so he didn’t have to make a decision on his own. If he didn’t say anything or
challenge the decisions being made for him, then he didn’t have to face
the battles within him.
They just hoped that some food would help perk up Joe’s mood
before he was required to give evidence later on. If he was in a similar frame of mind and
was prepared to agree with everything that the defence lawyer suggested to him,
their case wasn’t looking very promising.
Joe gnashed his teeth together as he felt a shooting pain up his leg
when his foot touched the wooden floor.
He had stumbled slightly and felt three or four hands suddenly rush out
to prevent him from falling. He
gave a wan smile in return for their concern but inside he just wanted to crawl
into a hole where nobody could find him and he could be left alone in his pity.
Once Joe and his family reached the hotel, he did make it his business
to choose the table at which they were to have lunch. He made sure that the table was
positioned away in one of the back corners of the room. He sat in the corner of this table with
his back to the wall. There
was a window he could see out of if he turned his head to the side.
Nobody else said anything about the choice of table, but Ben made sure
that he himself and his other two sons sat either side of Joe. They knew that Joe was feeling very
vulnerable and afraid at the moment.
Ben was determined to make sure that Joe knew he could count on the
support of his family.
It didn’t seem to matter how much he tried to emphasis that, at
the moment, the more they moved in closer to protect him, the more he pulled
away and put up the defence walls to drive between them. He wanted to shut the whole world out
and ignore the pain and memories, hoping they would go away.
Doc Martin now passed menus out around the table and they started to
look at the various meals available.
They would have to choose relatively simple meals due to the time
restraints they were being held to.
Ben pretended to keep reading his own, but he also stole glances
towards his youngest son, trying to gauge what he was going to choose from the
menu. Whatever it was to be, he
hoped that it would be enough to give the boy some much needed nourishment to
make it through the rest of the afternoon.
If the morning was anything to go by, he knew that Joe was going to need
a substantial amount of energy and courage to endure those proceedings. Probably even more than just food would
provide.
“I’ll think I will have me a nice big juicy steak,
Pa,” Hoss said, trying to interject a little lightheartedness into the
room. The atmosphere was very tense at the moment.
“Just one, Hoss?” Adam said in mock surprise. “You mean you don’t want the
rest of the cow?”
“Naw, Adam, I am just a little bit peckish. All that legal talk in there has plum
taken my appetite away. Maybe you
and the cook there could put the
rest in a paper bag for me to take home, though,” Hoss replied
jokingly. Everyone at the table was
suddenly laughing at the remarks between the two brothers.
Ben felt a little relief as he looked over and could see the beginnings
of a grin tugging at the corners of Joe’s mouth. He wasn’t exactly laughing, he was
almost looking like he was trying to hold it in or hide the laughter
altogether. But it was a start, Ben
reminded himself. Probably the
first real grin they had seen in the last few days, anyway.
“I think I will just have a ham sandwich with tomato, Pa,”
Joe now said before he was formally asked.
“Are you sure that’s all you want, son?” Ben
enquired.
“Yes, Pa. My stomach
is already twisting and churning inside too much without being too full. I guess I am just too nervous about the
trial to eat, that’s all,” Joe admitted.
“You’ll do fine this afternoon, Joe,” Fred said
intervening into the conversation.
The speech was interrupted by the waitress coming to the table and
asking for everyone’s order.
Ben promptly ordered for Joseph first and then for himself and then they
proceeded around the table in a clockwise direction.
Once the waitress had taken the orders, everyone around the table
except for Joe started to include themselves in idle chatter whilst they waited
for their lunch orders to arrive.
Joe’s gaze wandered towards the window and what was going on
outside as he became lost in his own thoughts about the day. He hadn’t even been taking
any notice of the people and the goings outside. His mind was telling him that he was
looking towards the main street of Virginia City. He could see people walking by the hotel
and on the opposite side of the street.
His attention wasn’t enough to recognize the faces as they walked
by.
Briefly, Joe took his gaze away from the street outside to survey the
table he was sitting out. He looked
back, but could see his father talking with Fred Harding and Doc Martin. Adam and Hoss seemed to be talking
amongst themselves. He again looked
back out the window, but this time things seemed a little altered.
Months later, when he was asked about it , Joe told people that it was
like watching a scene in slow motion.
He could see things happening on the street, people walking by, horses being
ridden down the street. But the
more he looked the stranger the scene became. Then, all at once, there was nobody
walking down the street nor riding horses.
It was as if the street had suddenly been abandoned.
Joe looked across to the other side of the road and found his brain
warning him of eminent danger. His
eyes scanned the area and saw a large dark figure standing by the lamp pole
outside the barber shop.
Joe could scarcely hold back the scream caught in his throat when he
finally did recognize the face staring back at him. The face was staring back at him. It was as if the eyes were burning into
his very soul. It was Butch Thomas
looking back at him. Somehow Joe
knew that Thomas had seen him looking out the window.
Joe quickly turned his face away from the window and looked back at the
others seated at the table. His
face had now lost all its pallor and he was trembling slightly with the fear
that was coursing through his body.
He couldn’t help it.
The more he thought about Butch Thomas, the more afraid he became.
Ben had been talking idly with Fred when he saw his son’s
face. Joe was deathly pale all of a
sudden and looked as though he might faint on the spot. Ben reached for Joe’s hand with
one of his own and felt the small tremors that were present.
“Joseph, are you alright?” Ben asked and moved his chair
out slightly so he could move closer to Joe. He didn’t like the way the boy was
looking one bit. He was sweating
profusely and seemed to be very scared all of a sudden. His eyes were full of fright and
kept darting back between the people at the table and the window beside them.
Ben took a brief second to look out the window, but didn’t see
anything out of the ordinary that might have Joe to react so badly. Joe tried to answer his father, but the
fear that was multiplying by the minute prevented the words from coming.
Hoss also saw the naked fear on his brother’s face and got off
his chair to kneel in front of his distressed brother. All of a sudden, Joe could feel the eyes
of everybody at the table on him and probably a few from other nearby
tables. All the scrutiny only
seemed to escalate the problem.
“Tell Hoss what’s got you so scared, boy,” Hoss said,
as he spoke to his brother in a soft and caring voice. “You got us all plum worried about
you, Joe.”
“Do you need to go outside and get some fresh air Joe?”
Fred Harding now asked, unaware of what Joe had seen but a few minutes ago.
“NO!” Joe shouted back hurriedly without even realising he
might have been giving away the real reason for his fear. He couldn’t let them know about
Thomas being outside, no matter how scared he was. He knew that Thomas was there to ensure
that he kept his word about not revealing his identity or involvement in his
abduction.
“Calm down, Joe,” Adam said, now voicing his own concern
for his brother’s sudden display of emotion. “You don’t have
to go outside if you don’t want to.
We just want to make sure you are alright.”
“I’m sorry, Pa.
I was just thinking too hard that’s all about what happened. I think I must have been dreaming again
about what happened,” Joe said, thinking that his excuse would at least
pass for partly true.
“I am sorry I interrupted your conversation,” Joe now said
in remorse. “I will be fine
now.”
Ben gave his son a good looking over with his eyes and doubted this to
be true, but didn’t voice his concerns for fear of distressing Joe
further. “As long as you say
so,” he commented.
Before anybody else could speak, there was a clunking of china plates
on the table as the waitress delivered the luncheon meals. Joe took one look at the ham
sandwich placed before him and knew that his stomach wouldn’t be in the
mood for food.
“Can I have a drink of water, please, Pa?” Joe asked,
trying to divert his father’s attention away from him and to draw
attention away from the fact that he didn’t feel like eating. His throat felt so dry from his fear
that it wasn’t funny. He was
grateful for the cool refreshing liquid as it touched the sides of his throat
on the way down. It was both
soothing and thirst-quenching at the same time.
The discussion at the table soon dissipated as everyone tucked into the
food before them. On two occasions,
when he felt the stares from his father and brothers, Joe picked up one of the
sandwiches and nibbled at one of the corners to show them that he was at least
trying to eat his lunch.
“Gentlemen, I think it is almost time to start heading back to
the courtroom,” Fred Harding announced as he looked at his pocket watch
and noted it to be ten minutes to two o’clock.
Ben and Doc Martin sighed in defeat as they looked down at Joe’s
plate and saw his meal almost untouched.
Joe tried to hide his apprehension about leaving the safety and
security of the International Hotel.
On the way back to the courtroom, his eyes darted back and forth along
the street of Virginia City looking for signs of Thomas lurking in the
shadows. He was scaring himself
silly, but couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise
as though Thomas was standing right in front of him.
He inwardly sighed in relief when he reached the courtroom without
seeing Thomas again. His sense of
alert was at its highest and his reactions were based mainly on pure adrenaline
as they had been when he was escaping from the shack.
Before too long the court Bailiff came back into the courtroom and
announced the recommencement of the proceedings, and Judge Collins took his
usual place at the bench.
“Will you please call your next witness, Mr Harding” the
Judge now instructed the prosecutor.
“Your Honour, if it pleases the court, I call Joseph Francis
Cartwright to the stand”
Joe got slowly up from his seat and walked stiffly, but as calmly as
possible to the witness stand. Inside, his stomach was all tied in knots, and
he could barely keep his composure. His crutches seemed to be loud as he made
his way over, but it was probably more to the fact that nobody else in the
courtroom spoke a word. They all
had their eyes firmly fixated on the young, pale-looking young man heading
towards the front of the court room.
Joe really hoped this was over real soon.
Joe remained standing for a moment while the court Bailiff addressed
him. “Do you swear to tell the whole truth, the whole truth and nothing
but the truth so help you God?”
‘Truth’. That
was the word that kept echoing in Joe’s mind over and over again. Like he had told his father only a day
earlier, he didn’t know what the truth was anymore and had even less of
an inclination to face it.
“I do,” he said in a soft voice and sat down on the hard
wooden seat. It took quite a few
attempts to manage to manoeuvre his body and the crutches in such a small,
confined space. Finally he placed
his crutches on the other side of the witness box. They were a little further away than he
would have liked, but at least this way he could stretch his aching leg out
just a little to ease the constant throbbing that existed.
Judge Collins could see the nervousness and apprehension in this next
young witness. He put his hand up
towards Fred Harding so that he could have a private chat with Joe before the
questions began.
“Joe, if you think you need a break at any time or are hurting
too much from your injuries, just let me know and I will have a recess until
you are able to go on.”
Joe nodded his head, grateful for the Judge’s compassion, but he
really didn’t want to delay this any longer. He just wanted to answer the questions
thrown at him and then go home and forget any of this ever happened.
The Judge now looked back towards the lawyers and the public gallery
and gave a slight nod of his head, indicating that the prosecution could
proceed.
At the back of the courtroom, there was a set of windows. They were very dusty, both inside and
outside, so nobody really took any notice of them. When Joe had walked towards the witness
box, he was unable to see the shadowy figure of Butch Thomas walk down the
alley way and peer through one corner of one of the windows.
Although Thomas couldn’t hear what Joe was about to say very
well, he could tell what was happening by the boy’s body language and
gestures. He made sure that his
presence remained undetected by anyone in the courtroom.
“Joe, I will get to the main part of your evidence in a moment,
but firstly, due to the questions that were asked just before the luncheon
break, I will start with what you remember about those saddlebags,” Fred
Harding said, as he began his examination of Little Joe.
“When was the last time…….. no, wait a moment. Do you own a set of saddlebags?”
“Yes,” Joe answered.
“Is there any distinguishing characteristics on those
saddlebags?”
“My Pa gave them to me for my fifteenth birthday. They have my
initials carved into one corner of them.”
“And what are those initials, Joe?”
“J.F.C.”
“Now that we have established that you have had possession of a
set of saddlebags, resembling the ones that the Sheriff confiscated from Mr
Griffiths when he was arrested.
Do you use those saddlebags all the time?”
“Yes, whenever I saddle my horse Cochise, they are always
there.”
“And up until today, Joe, when was the last time you saw those
saddlebags?”
Joe looked cautiously at his father before answering the question. His father gave him a reassuring smile
and the look of encouragement to help him go on. “The last time I saw those
saddlebags was on my way to school that day.”
“And what day are you talking about, Joe?” Fred asked,
knowing that Joe was trying to avoid saying it all at once.
“The day that I was taken away from my family,” Joe said in
a small voice. His gaze immediately
went to the floor in front of him, and he tried to slow down his breathing and
regain his composure.
“Did you see what happened to those saddlebags when you were
abducted, Joe?”
“No.”
“Have you seen those saddlebags since being returned to your
family?”
“No.”
“Joe, we can come back to more of those questions later. Now, let’s start with what you
remember about that day, before you left for school.”
“You mean when I was still at home?” Joe asked, not really
being sure about why the prosecutor would be asking about things that happened
before he was taken.
“Yes, Joe. Lead us
into what happened. Take your time
and stop when you need to but try to be as specific as you can and leave nothing
out.”
“Well…………..” Joe said and paused,
looking at Fred with a confused look.
He looked towards his brothers and father for their help.
Fred Harding could see that Joe was already reluctant to give his story
willingly on his own.
“I know this is difficult for you, Joe. So, I will help you as much as I
can, with Your Honour’s
permission, of course” Fred added, looking towards Judge Collins for his
approval. The Judge just nodded his
head in agreement.
“What time did you wake up that morning, do you remember?”
“About normal time. I
can’t be sure, probably about 6.00,am. We kinda get up early at our house. Pa makes sure that all of our morning
chores are done before breakfast time,” Joe said innocently. Both Adam
and Ben had to hide their smirks to this answer. At least the boy was being honest about
his home life.
“Did you eat any breakfast that morning?”
“Hop Sing made scrambled eggs, I think, but I was already running
late for school and so I only had a few mouthfuls.”
“So, then you left the house, and what happened next?”
“I went to the barn to saddle my horse Cochise. Adam came after me and handed me my
books that I had forgotten.”
“So you rode alone to school that day, Joe?”
“Yeah, Pa has been letting me ride to school on my own since I
was about thirteen or so.”
“You started to ride to school, and then what happened?”
“Well, about halfway there I came to a bend in the road. Somebody was lying in the middle of the
road. I got off my horse and started to walk towards him.”
“Could you see this person’s face from your horse,
Joe?”
“No, he was lying down and turned over as if he was hurt, so I
couldn’t see anything but the back of his shirt.”
Ben and Adam both found it very difficult to hear the explicit details
about how these men had lured a very innocent and naïve teenager in the
path of danger. Joe was always the
one to stop and ask if somebody needed help; it was just in his nature.
“What happened after you walked towards him?”
“I put my hand on his shoulder, ready to turn him over to see if
he was alright,” Joe’s voice was getting softer with every question
and answer.
“Did you say anything to him, Joe? I am sorry, but you will have
to try and keep your voice up a little for everyone to hear.”
“No. He didn’t
give me a chance. As soon as I
touched his shoulder he turned over on his own and that’s when I knew he
was faking being hurt.”
“How did you know that he wasn’t really hurt, Joe?”
Joe looked at this father again, knowing that his family had yet to
hear any of these details. He could
see Hoss’s normally placid, calm-looking blue eyes start to swirl as the emotions about what
these men had done to his little brother began to consume him from within.
“I knew he was lying because he had a gun pointed at me,”
Joe said hurriedly, thankful to finally get the words out. There were a few muffled voices and
whispers amongst the public gallery after this comment.
Adam’s face had turned into a mask as he, too, tried to hide the
turmoil of emotions that were threatening to overtake him. He was trying to think of all the things
he could do to these men if he ever got his hands on them.
Ben’s gaze never diverted from Joe. Inside, he was as angry and full of
guilt as his two sons were, but he knew that Joe was looking to him to provide
the reassurance and the strength to carry on. He needed to remain strong for his son.
“Did you think you could describe this person for the court,
Joe?”
“No, I don’t think so.
Everything after that happened so quickly. I don’t remember very much at all
after that.”
“Do you know the defendant in his matter, Joe?”
“No” Joe said with firmness. He knew that he could safely say that he
wasn’t friends or even distance acquaintances with Danny Griffiths.
“I want you to take as much time as you need to answer this next
question, Joe. Think very
carefully. Have you ever seen the
man sitting in the dock before?”
Now Joe really did have a large lump caught in his throat. He knew that he didn’t want to
reveal that he knew Griffiths was involved in his kidnapping. Thomas had told him what would happen if
he revealed their identities to anybody.
Joe found himself nervously playing with his hands. He was clenching them into fists so
tight that the knuckles were turning white. He did think very hard about how he was
going to answer the question without outright lying.
“Ummmm………. I really can’t be sure of
that. I got hit on the head a
couple of times after that and some things about that day are still a little
bit fuzzy.”
Joe looked at the prosecutor to see if could see through the half-lie
at all. The walls, all of a sudden,
seemed to be closing in around Joe.
His fear and nervousness were more than beginning to get the better of
him. He was beginning to feel
claustrophobic.
He was the only one who couldn’t see his face getting awfully
pale. On the contrary, Joe
couldn’t feel anything else but the blood beginning to rush to his head.
Judge Collins noted the sudden change in the pallor of the young man
and decided to intervene “Are you alright, young man?” he asked
gently.
Ben was about two steps away from making a path directly to Joe in the
witness box. He could see his son
struggling to get himself under control. Even though the questions
hadn’t been entirely harrowing, just the fact that Joe was being forced
to remember such a terrible ordeal was obviously becoming too much for his son
all at once.
“Could I go to the outhouse, please?” Joe asked in a soft
voice. Although his family was
ready to support him, Joe felt as though he couldn’t deal with anybody at
the moment, least of all his family.
He wanted to be alone for a few minutes and try and deal with the guilt
and shame that were becoming overwhelming within him.
“Sure, son. Do you
want one of your family to go with you?” the Judge replied noting
Joe’s slight immobility with the crutches.
“No, I be just fine on my own if that’s alright with
you. I won’t be long,”
Joe said, as he started to fumble for his crutches. He looked briefly over at his brothers, who
were almost on their feet, ready to help him across the short distance to the
side exit to the courtroom. He
shook his head slightly, indicating to them that he didn’t need their
help just yet either.
All eyes seemed to be on Joe as he made his way slowly across the
wooden floor. It took all of their
willpower for Ben and his boys not to rush over to him and help like they
wanted to. They all respected the
fact that Joe had said he could manage on his own. It didn’t make it any easier,
though, to watch his painful and stiff progress to the side door.
Joe had been careful about where to place his crutches at the
doorway. There was a large step
from the floor of the courtroom to
the dirt ground. He made sure that
he had a solid foot hold before proceeding any further. His concentration was largely on his
footing and his crutches, so he didn’t see Butch Thomas’s figure
come closer to him from the back of the building.
Butch Thomas made sure that the kid was all the way out the door and
away from prying eyes before he made a grab for the teenager. The outhouse was about twenty feet
to the right side of the courtroom.
The people inside wouldn’t be able to see him again until he was
almost back inside the doorway again.
Once Joe had almost made it to the outhouse door, Thomas made his move
………..
……………………
Butch Thomas made sure that when he grabbed the boy the kid
wasn’t able to scream for help or signal to anyone about what was going
on. He put his hand over
Joe’s mouth tightly, cutting off the scream that was caught in his
throat.
Joe felt a hand on his shoulder momentarily and then felt the rough
calloused hand go around his mouth, keeping him silent. His assailant was stronger, despite his
constant struggles to get away. The
crutches he had been holding onto had fallen away to the side as he used his
hands and arms to try and free the arms encircling his chest and
upper body.
It was only after he had subdued his victim sufficiently and dragged
him into a darkened corner of the alley that the attacker turned the
kid’s body around to allow him to see who he was. Butch Thomas couldn’t
suppress the grin on his face as he saw the look of recognition on Joe’s
face.
Joe could feel his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he thought
it would burst. His eyes were wide
with fright, and his face paled considerably as he found himself looking into
the cold, calculating face of his worst fear: Butch Thomas.
Joe tried to scream through the hand over his mouth, but all that came
out was muffled squeak. Thomas knew
that he couldn’t do anything physical to the kid out here. He had to make sure that the kid wasn’t
missing long enough for anybody to start worrying about him and come out
looking for him.
Instead of the harsh slap that Thomas wanted to deliver to Joe’s
frightened, pale face, he proceeded to shake the kid roughly and issue a fresh
warning:
“Hello again, my young friend. Didn’t expect to see me here
today, did you? Oh, but I know you
already saw me earlier, didn’t you, outside the hotel? Didn’t think I had gone away
completely, did you, kid, after my last visit? Like I told you before, I aim to make
sure that you don’t open that mouth of yours and tell the law what really
happened at that shack. I want to
make sure that you don’t say anything about me or young Griffiths in
there being involved. If you
tell them about him, then he just might squeal on me, and that ain’t good
for your, health kid.”
“Remember, I’ll be watching you,” Thomas added
finally. He quickly released his
grip from around Joe’s chest and removed the hand over the kid’s
mouth and disappeared down the opposite end of the alleyway before his young
victim even realised that Thomas was gone.
Joe had his eyes closed whilst his body was being shaken by
Thomas. It was only after he
had felt the iron-like grip around his arms and chest release that he could
take a breath again. It was now
that he heard the sound of running footsteps.
Joe nervously opened his eyes and looked around, not knowing what to
expect. He couldn’t believe
it when the alleyway was completely empty. The sound of his shallow breaths
seemed to echo off the walls of the nearby buildings and then circle back at
him, enhancing the fact that he was all alone.
He didn’t know what he should do for a minute. He was scared that this was all some
sort of evil game from Thomas.
That he was somewhere nearby, waiting for Joe to make the next move
before he pounced on him again. Joe
stood there he was, trying to regain his composure before re-entering the
courtroom.
Joe had no idea if the people inside the courtroom had heard the
skirmish outside between him and Thomas.
He looked around the alleyway and soon spotted his fallen crutches,
still lying in the dirt nearby.
His legs were threatening to betray him, and he didn’t even know
if he could make it the short distance to them without collapsing.
After a few shaky seconds he managed to walk gingerly over to his
crutches and retrieve them. He had
all but forgotten about his trip to the outhouse. His next challenge seemed to be making
it back to the side entrance to the courtroom. All of the blood seemed to be pooling in his
feet, making them feel extremely heavy to move and the rest of his body feel
very wobbly and dizzy.
Inside the courtroom, Ben was starting to become a little anxious about
the time Joe had been gone. In the
scheme of things, it had only been a few minutes, but he hadn’t like the
paleness in Joe’s face before the break in proceedings had been granted. There was something in the way that Joe
had been answering the questions that the prosecutor asked. It was almost as if Joe was trying to
avoid them or tell an untruth, but Ben couldn’t work out why his son
would do such a thing.
Adam was the first to see Joe’s figure lurch into view near the
doorway. At first, for a brief
second his heart had begun beating again after worry he had caused himself
about how long Joe was taking. He,
too, had seen the concerning signs in his younger brother as his father had. He didn’t necessarily draw the
same conclusions, but was worried for Joe’s safety, nonetheless.
Adam lightly tapped Hoss on the shoulder as he spotted his brother, but
the gesture almost hung in mid-air as all three Cartwrights now watched Joe
intently as he walked through the doorway awkwardly with his crutches to aid
him. Something wasn’t
right.
The look on Joe’s face told the on-lookers that the kid was
downright scared. Of what, they
didn’t know. He hadn’t
seemed that scared in the witness box a few minutes ago. Something was very wrong.
Joe swallowed hard as he first of all looked towards his family, seated
in the front row of chairs. He then
slowly and deliberately turned his head towards Judge Collins. He wanted to shout out what had just
happened outside. He wanted to run
to his father and hide behind him, hoping his two brothers would run outside
and catch Butch Thomas before he could get away. For the time being, his voice seemed to
abandon him, and he only heard a croaky gurgle when he opened his mouth.
Adam could see Joe struggling with his emotions and wanting to tell
them something. The fear on his
face was so naked that he was truly worried for his brother’s ability to
cope with the whole trial situation. He focused on Joe’s
lips, hoping to at least lip-read the words that Joe couldn’t get out.
“He’s back!” Adam thought his brother had mouthed
silently. He didn’t know who
Joe was talking about. He was
hoping Joe could supply some more information about what was so terribly
wrong. He was about to take a step
forward and talk to Joe on a more one-on-one basis when he saw his
brother’s step falter.
All of a sudden, Joe’s energy, that had been fuelled by pure adrenaline,
seemed to be waning and ebbing away very quickly from within him. As the adrenalin left his body, his
injured leg began to ache as though it was a warning of some kind.
Joe’s legs seemed to be made of jelly and he knew that it was
only the crutches in his hands holding him totally erect. That soon came to an end, though, as the
crutches fell to the floor with a resounding crash. His arms no longer had the strength to
hold onto the wooden appendages.
The blood that seemed to be in his feet only a few seconds ago now
coursed through his veins and rushed into his head. His head began swimming and his mind
began to spin together with the ceiling of the courtroom. Without any further warning, he
crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.
He didn’t hear the cry of anguish that came from his family, as
they had seen what was going to happen but were unable to prevent it in time.
Immediately, Ben was at his son’s side, along with Adam and
Hoss. Doc Martin had quickly
recovered from the shock enough to gather his medical bag before joining the
hovering crowd over the unconscious and unmoving youth. Judge Collings was also standing on his
feet, leaning over the desk in front of him with a concerned expression
on his face.
“Mr Harding and Mr Simpson, I believe that now is the right time
to adjourn these whole proceedings until 9.00 am tomorrow morning. Hopefully by then we will be able to
make a decision of what is to happen based on Mr Cartwrights physical health
and the doctor’s diagnosis.
Sheriff, you may take the prisoner back to his cell in your
jailhouse. Court is now
adjourned,” the Judge said, knowing his speech fell mainly on deaf
ears. Everybody in the courtroom
was rightly preoccupied with the health and condition of the young man lying in
front of the Judge.
The Judge now came out from his desk and offered what little, if any,
assistance he could to the already growing crowd of bystanders.
“Joseph!”
Joseph, can you hear me?” Ben said, as he gently stroked his
son’s pale face, beseeching him to respond to his touch and calling.
“Do you think this was all too much, Doc?” Hoss asked Paul,
as the doctor prepared to make a more thorough examination of his patient.
“Maybe, Hoss, but for now, let’s be more concerned about
getting him back to the hotel and checking him out more thoroughly. We will make him more comfortable and
hope that an environment away from here may make him a little more
relaxed,” Paul said.
“Adam, you and Hoss carry him, but gently. I will clear the path. Ben, you stay by his side in case he
starts to wake up and becomes agitated before we get him to the room,”
Paul now instructed.
The crowd in the courtroom respectfully stood aside without any
hesitation as they watched the two brothers gather their smaller and obviously
frailer sibling in their gentle but supporting grasp and carry him towards the
International Hotel where his family had been staying.
Fred Harding gathered all of his paperwork and scurried behind the
Cartwrights and the doctor as quickly as he could. He was a little guilty about having to
put his young witness through such a taxing ordeal. He was also a little intrigued as Ben
had been about why Joe was being so evasive with his testimony. He knew his curiosities would in all
likelihood go unanswered tonight at least.
Upon a last-minute check of the courtroom, Fred saw that Joe’s
crutches had been momentarily forgotten with all the chaos. He picked them up and carried them back
to the hotel along with the rest of his paperwork.
Shocked staff of the hotel could only watch with stunned faces as the
party came bursting into the hotel through the front doors, carrying the inert
young man up the stairs and to their suite. Fred Harding stayed behind to tell them
about what they had seen and make arrangements for any necessities that the
doctor might require like water, towels, fresh bed linen and anything else Paul
or the Cartwrights asked for.
The staff were only too happy to carry out his wishes and they promised
to have everything he asked for promptly ready within a few minutes at the
suite door.
***********************************************************
Ben paced backwards and forwards beside the bed where his unconscious
son lay. Joe hadn’t moved a
muscle since being brought to the hotel by his brothers, followed by Doc
Martin, his anxious father and Fred Harding.
Ben wanted Paul to talk to him.
Tell him what was wrong with Joseph. He knew the doctor was trying his best,
but that didn’t do his nerves any good. They were already shot to pieces.
Paul Martin could see his old friend pacing back and forth from
worry. He was concerned himself
about Little Joe’s pale face and the lack of response he was
getting. He smiled briefly to
himself. If there was one thing
that remained constant in this world, it was Ben Cartwrights worry about his
sons and about his youngest in particular.
Paul knew it wouldn’t matter how old Little Joe got, Ben would
still worry every time the young man was physically hurt or struggling with
something mentally.
Paul admonished himself and he road of nostalgia and reminded himself
that he had a young patient to care for right now. He dug around in his little black bag
and pulled out a small cylindrical tube containing dark mustard-coloured
powder.
The doctor was careful enough with the powder to make sure that he
didn’t remove the cap before it was close enough to the patient. The tube was only small in size
and the quantity of powder equally small, but Paul didn’t want any of the
other people in the room being overcome by the powerful fumes that were about
to exude from it.
He held the tube expertly and at just the right distance underneath
Little Joe’s nose to have the right effect. He uncorked the cork stopper from the
tube with his thumb and very slowly brought the tube back and forth underneath
both nostrils.
Paul didn’t need to wait long to see the results. Almost immediately Joe was pulled
harshly from his unconscious state by the acrid smell of the smelling
salts. Once he had taken a second
inhalation of the powder, he quickly diverted his head to avoid the smell that
was invading his senses. He almost
felt sick to his stomach.
The tube was removed and the cork replaced at the neck. Everyone in the room remained
silent now as they waited for Joe to regain his bearings.
Joe could almost feel the silence in the room. He turned his head to the front again
and came face to face with the snow-white hair of Doctor Martin. The smile in return was warm and
friendly enough, but Joe could also read the offer of pity and understanding
that he didn’t need right at the moment. He looked upwards and slightly to the
left of Doc Martin and saw his father, who, too had a similar look on his face,
though the worry was a little more evident on him than it had been on
Paul. Joe looked about the room and
could see the same expressions on his brothers and Fred Harding. Everybody wanted to tell him that everything
was going to be alright again.
He felt like he was almost suffocating.
Joe turned his face away from them all and tried to hold in the
emotions he was feeling. As
the light from the room shone on his face, Ben and the others saw a single tear
slip down his cheek and soak into the pillow.
“I think I need to examine my patient alone for a moment,”
Paul now suggested seeing Joe’s distress. “I’ll talk to you in a few
minutes when I have had a chance to check him over properly.”
Everyone in the room complied with the simple request. They were all anxious to hear what
Paul had to say about Joe and how he was coping. They all wanted to ask the one question
that kept plaguing their minds: What had scared him so much back at the
courthouse?
Paul now smiled back at Joe once everyone had left and tried to drum up
idle conversation to take Joe’s mind on whatever else was bothering him.
“Now, let’s see wrong with you, Little Joe,” Paul
said innocently.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Joe said through
clenched teeth as he held onto his frustration about everybody treating him
like he was a
five-year-old. Why
couldn’t people just come out and say things in plain terms? Just because he fainted didn’t
mean he was in the mood to be babied.
“Can you tell me why you fainted then, Joseph?” Paul now
asked, playing along with Joe rather than trying to fight against him.
“I don’t know.
Just got uncomfortable answering all of those questions, I guess,
that’s all, Doc,” Joe lied. His mind went back to the alleyway
and the moment Butch Thomas had grabbed him around the throat and hissed
threats at him. His body began to
tremble again at the memory and he suddenly felt cold in the room. He tried to hide his body’s
tremors by pulling the quilt from the bed over him.
Paul frowned a little at this exercise, particularly when he was trying
to examine a reluctant patient. It
didn’t help any if the patient was being particularly difficult and
preventing the doctor from checking him over. He could see the frightened look return
to Joe’s eyes and feel the small tremors running through his limbs as he
gently tried to talk Joe into co-operating a little more. Paul decided not to pressure the young
man too much. It was obvious that
his being difficult wasn’t entirely his own fault.
Paul finally declared to Joe that he was finished his examination. Joe looked up dubiously at the doctor as
he knew there hadn’t been much poking and probing done. He didn’t say anything, though. He wasn’t about to invite the
doctor to conduct any more tests on him.
He just wanted to be left alone to sort out the shouting voices in his
head. He wanted to get a handle on
what had happened today and work out what he was going to do tomorrow.
“I’ll probably see you tomorrow, Joe. You get some rest now,” Paul said,
as he walked out of Joe’s room through the adjoining door to Fred
Harding’s suite where everybody else was waiting.
Joe nodded his head in acknowledgement, but knew that there was not
chance of his mind letting him rest tonight or anytime in the near future. His mind was just racing, as was his
heart beat and blood pressure. The
fear within him was growing that much he was certain of. If he couldn’t find a way to
confront his fears, they would take over and make him hide away from the world
and his family and friends forever.
Back in the other room, the four people waiting in Fred Harding’s
suite now gathered around together, as Paul Martin came through the doorway and
prepared to tell them about Joe’s diagnosis.
“How is he, Paul?” Ben asked before anything could be
said. He couldn’t wait any
longer. He wanted to know how his
son was.
“Physically, he’s as good as can be expected. He’s a little fatigued and his leg
is still aching a little, but other than that and some lack of colour he is
holding up physically well. Mentally,
on the other hand, that’s another issue altogether. I couldn’t do much of an
examination because Joe just refused to talk to me. He grunted and gasped in pain a couple
of times when I examined his leg which indicates he was still feeling some pain.
But he refused to talk about what was scaring him so much or anything at all
about what happened back at the courthouse,” Paul now explained.
“Did you ask him what happened, Doc?” Hoss now asked.
“Yes, Hoss, I did, but he said there was nothing wrong with him
and that it was just the questions that got to him in the end. Though I partly believe that to be true,
I doubt that was the real reason behind his fainting spell. He is in a very fragile state at
the moment. If we push too hard, he
is going to withdraw into himself even more; if we treat him with
kid-gloves any more than we are at the moment, we are only going to end
up with a very rebellious and angry teenager.”
“What do you suppose we do about tomorrow and the trial?”
Fred Harding now asked. He
wasn’t willing to risk Joe’s physical or mental condition for the
sake of convicting Griffiths, but he also needed to be prepared to give the
Judge some background information in the morning in his application to have the
matter adjourned to another date.
“I think its too early to say just yet. Let’s let Joe get some rest
overnight, and I will take a look at him tomorrow morning and see what his
mental attitude is again. At the
moment his attitude is very sullen and moody. I doubt whether you will get a straight
answer from him at the moment were you to put him back in that witness box with
his current state of mind.”
“Are there any instructions for us tonight, Paul, about what we
should do for him?” Ben asked.
“No, Ben. The best
advice I can give you at the moment is just to be there for him. He is feeling all alone and very
vulnerable at the moment so I think we need to show him that he is
loved,” Paul replied. “You know where I will be if you
need me,” he added at the end and gathered his bag ready to depart back
to his own office.
The four men now had talked for the next hour about some of the things
that had come out in the trial from Joe today. Adam and Hoss both had angered
looks about them when they remembered how Joe had been lured into thinking that somebody was hurt
along the road on his way to school.
Both brothers knew that it was in Joe’s nature to stop and help
someone else if he could. They
couldn’t fault him because they probably would have done the same thing.
Ben had wanted to go back into their own suite where Joe was resting as
soon as Paul had left. But a great
deal of self-restraint was used when he realised that his son probably would
like some time to himself. If he
was resting as the doctor suggested he do, Ben didn’t want to disturb
that much needed rest even if it was to put a stop to his own fears and
worries.
“I can’t say how sorry I am about Joe being put through all
of this, Ben,” Fred now said to his long-time friend as the conversation
between them all but dried up.
“Don’t be, Fred. These things that are happening are not
your fault and can’t be helped.
I just wish I knew some way to get through to Joseph. His fear seems to be his main barrier at
the moment. If we could just find a
way to persuade him to tell us who was responsible for this, I think it would
help to put his mind at ease as well as ours. I wish I knew what to say to help him
gain that confidence.”
Ben now excused himself from the others so that he could go and check
on his son. He quietly and
carefully opened the door, not knowing if Joe had fallen asleep or not.
Joe had heard the creak from the door, signalling that somebody was
entering the room. Up until now he had
been awake, trying not to think about what Butch Thomas had said. He now closed his eyes and evened out
his breathing, feigning sleep.
Somehow he could tell it was Pa in the room. He would never be able to explain to
someone how he knew this; only that
he knew.
Ben walked around the bed and now sat on a chair beside his sleeping
son. At the moment his
son’s face seemed relaxed and peaceful. It was still slightly pale, as Paul had
stated, with the dark circles of fatigue more visible than normally. He gently caressed his son’s
cheek, hoping somehow his son would feel the touch and know that his father was
there for him. If Ben could find a
way to instil his own strength and confidence within Joe, he wouldn’t
hesitate for a second.
“Oh, Joseph. I wish I
knew a way to help you son,” Ben said with heart-felt sounding
words.
Joe heard his father’s words and part of him wanted to open his
eyes and allow his father to take him into his embrace and give him the
security he craved for. The other
part of him, some would say the selfish part, reminded Joe that he wanted to be
on his own. The selfish part won
out in the long run, and Joe lay silently listening to his fathers words, but
never acknowledging that he heard them.
“I wish I knew how to take all the pain and hurt away,
son,” Ben said, as he gently stroked Joe’s arm that lay limply
alongside of him on the bed.
“I wish I could have been there to stop those men taking you away
from me. I hope someday you will
forgive me for not being there when you needed me. I am so sorry, son. So sorry.”
Ben’s words were interrupted by Adam gently knocking on the
doorway between the two suites. He
got up and answered the rap, leaving his son to continue his slumber.
“Pa, sorry to disturb you, but Hoss and I thought it might be a
good idea to order some room service from downstairs in case Joe wakes later
and wants something to eat,” Adam said. He couldn’t help but see Ben wipe
a stray tear from his face on his sleeve as he answered the door.
“Alright, Adam, I think that is a good idea. I don’t know when he will wake but
he really should have something to eat when he does,” Ben replied. “I think I will leave him for now
to get some decent rest,” he added now as he glanced back over towards
the figure on the bed. Ben then
joined Adam in Fred Harding’s suite and closed the door behind him.
Once he heard the door closed, Joe could no longer hold in the tide of
emotion that washed over his tired body.
The tears fell freely down his face as he thought about the words his
father had said. After a while
though he started to talk to himself harshly.
He thought about all of the events over the last month or so. How he was taken and what had happened
back at the abandoned shack. How
his family had been there to find him and bring him home and nurse him back to
health. Apart from the times that
they were prevented being with him, they had been there. Through thick and thin they had sat by
his bedside and cared for his injuries.
They had offered for him to talk to them about what might be troubling
him. All the time they were
holding out hands to help, he was slapping them away in refusal and turning his
back on them.
The threats from Butch Thomas still echoed in his head, but now they
started to mingle with the words his father had said and the words that Adam
and Hoss had said over the last few weeks.
He was very confused about what was the right thing to do. He was afraid for what would
happen if he did tell somebody about what happened.
After an enormous amount of thought, he finally decided that there was
one person that could help him the most at the moment. That person was in the other room at the
moment. He would need to wait until
later tonight to talk to Fred when the rest of his family thought him to be
asleep.
There was a tiredness that was creeping over him now, and he
didn’t try to fight it. He
knew that if he was going to carry out the task he intended tomorrow he was
going to need to be fully rested to do so.
He now closed his eyes for real and let the pull of sleep claim him.
Adam had checked on Joe a few hours later, hoping that his brother
would be awake to take in a much needed meal. He was a little concerned when it seemed
that Joe was sleeping a lot more than they all expected. Ben had assured the boys that Joe was
both physically and emotionally exhausted at the moment and that they were
bound to take their toll on his young body.
Joe’s sleep wasn’t disturbed at all that evening. He could
have a hearty breakfast in the morning to make up for it if he was feeling up
to it. After 10 pm Ben and
his boys settled in their own room with Joe and allowed Fred to retire in his
own suite and get some rest as well.
At about 1 am that night, Joe woke with a slight start. He didn’t make any noise as he
looked around the pitch-black room and tried to work out what time it was. He knew it must be very late and rubbed
at his eyes to try and bring himself more alert.
Joe then looked around the room to make sure that the rest of his
family were still asleep. Hoss was
snoring loudly on the other side of the room. Adam and Ben were in single beds not far
from him. Hopefully Hoss’s
snoring would muffle his footsteps across the floor a little.
Joe gently eased back the covers on his own bed and very gingerly
placed his bare feet onto the floor.
He saw that somebody had propped his crutches up against the walk beside
his bed. They were in reaching
distance, and he placed them under his arms and used them to support his still
injured leg from any more jarring as he made his way across the floor in the
suite.
Thankfully, being a carpeted suite, the crutches were muffled even more
by the thick pile of the patterned carpet.
He made his way as silently as possible over to the doorway between the
two suites. At one stage he thought
he heard one of his family waking behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks
until he was certain that the coast was clear.
The doorway between the two suites wasn’t locked, and Joe very quietly
turned the handle on the door and opened it. He cursed inwardly when the door creaked
slightly at the movement. He walked
into Fred Harding’s suite and then closed the door silently behind
him. He didn’t want to
risk knocking on the door and have somebody hear his efforts.
On the other side of the door he could see Fred Harding’s bed and
the slumbering figure of the prosecutor on it. He felt incredibly guilty about
disturbing the man at this time of the night, but he thought it important enough
to do so.
“Mr Harding,” Joe whispered as he gently shook the
middle-aged man’s shoulder.
The first attempt to wake the lawyer didn’t work so he had to try
a little harder and repeat the attempt.
“Mr Harding,” he said again and shook a little more vigorously
this time.
“What, who?” Fred said, as he woke with a start. He frowned at first to try and focus on
the figure bent over him and the bed.
He couldn’t quite work out who it was. He pushed himself up into a sitting
position and put on his glasses that had been resting on the bedside
table.
Joe turned the lamp in the room a little higher for Mr Harding to
see. “Hello, Mr Harding. Its only me, Joe Cartwright. I am sorry to disturb you at such a late
hour,” he now said apologetically.
Fred could now distinguish the outline of the crutches Joe was leaning
on and establish the intruder’s identity. “Joe, are you
alright? Has something happened to
your father?” he began asking.
He knew that the boy had a terrible time yesterday, and as far as he
knew, up until now he had been asleep.
The boy hadn’t even woken up for supper, so if he was standing
over his bed in the middle of the night, something must be dreadfully
important.
“No, everybody is fine, Mr Harding. I just really needed to talk to you
about what happened today in the courtroom and what is going to happen
tomorrow,” Joe now said.
Fred now got out of bed and led Joe over to the small dining room table
in the room. “Come and sit
down, Joe. If you have something
important to tell me, I would rather be more alert when you did so.”
“Thank you, Mr Harding,” Joe said, unable to keep the
nervousness out of his voice.
“Are you sure you don’t want one of your family present
when you talk to me, Joe?” Fred asked.
“No, Mr Harding. What
I am about to tell you is going to be hard enough, so I would rather that they
didn’t hear what I have to say until I say it tomorrow.”
Fred was now a little more than curious and a little worried about that
statement.
“You see, Mr Harding……………”
Joe began. His voice was quite
restricted and his words were not flowing as smoothly as he would have
liked. Fred was patient enough
though to allow his client all the time he needed to say whatever was troubling
him.
Joe now proceeded to tell Mr Harding about why he was reluctant to tell
anybody about what had happened to him. He was very careful not to give
too many details away. He never
gave Fred specifics about what had happened, just a rough outline. He told Fred about the threats and the
fears that Joe had held since being brought home by his family. Again he made sure that he left out
names and places, never wanting to relinquish the names of his assailants.
At the end of the very difficult but revealing conversation, Fred sat
silent in thought for a moment as he pondered how best to tackle the problem.
“I want to tell the truth, Mr Harding. I really do. But I am afraid about what hearing such
things might do to my family and what fate might befall them or me if I should
reveal their identity.”
“Joe, here’s what I propose to do,” Fred now
suggested. He and Joe spoke for the
next two hours, carefully working out a plan of attack for the courtroom the
next day. Fred told Joe about the
approach he would take from the outset and that Joe would have to bear with him
at first when the questions began in the morning.
He told Joe that he would need to be particularly strong when reliving
his story. He didn’t have any
misgivings about how hard it was going to be to tell these things in an open court,
especially when his family had never heard any of the hard details about what
Joe had been through.
“I can only tell this story once, Mr Harding, so we have to get
it right the first time. I
can’t promise how I am going to be tomorrow. I can’t hide the fact that I am
almost too scared to go through with this.
But after what I heard my Pa say earlier this afternoon, I owe to my
family to tell the truth and make sure they know that there wasn’t anything
else they could have done to prevent those men from doing what they did.”
“I think you had better get back to your room before you are
missed, young man,” Fred now said in lighter conversation. He helped Joe to his feet and secured
the crutches under his arms enough for him to manage to the doorway on his
own. He watched from behind as Joe
made he way across the room.
“And, Joe…….,” he said, waiting for Joe to turn
around before he continued the comment,
“when this is all over tomorrow and your father finds out, please
make sure that there is a fast horse waiting at the stable for my escape. If there is one thing I would rather
avoid, it’s that infamous temper of Ben Cartwright when it comes to
protecting one of his own. You have
nothing to worry about, and he can’t possibly be mad at you. But me, that’s a whole different
story.”
“On second thought, Mr Harding, I think I will make sure that
there is one for you and me. I
don’t think I want to be there to hear what Pa says about our little
midnight rendezvous, either,” Joe said with a genuine smile.
Joe now crept back into his room and climbed back into bed without
making any noise to alert his family.
He wasn’t able to tell if they had awoken while he was out of the
room, but if they hadn’t come looking for him, it was safe enough to
assume that they didn’t know he had been in the other room.
There were only a few more hours to daylight. Joe was tired and didn’t find it
difficult to fall back to sleep, but his mind was still plagued by what was
going to transpire tomorrow. He
just hoped he and Mr Harding were doing the right thing. His very life may depend on it.
***********************************************************
The next morning Ben looked over the brim of his coffee cup at the
slumbering figure of his youngest son on the other side of the room. He frowned a little at the thought that
he would need to wake the boy shortly to gauge whether or not the trial would
proceed today.
Ben didn’t need to wait too long, though, as Joe started to stir
a little in the bed as the chambermaid came to take away the breakfast
dishes. One tray and coffee pot
were left for the still slumbering teenager.
At first Joe seemed to have trouble waking up. It was as though his eyes were too heavy
and it was too much of an effort.
The sound of knocking at the door by Fred Harding soon brought the boy
around a little more. He pulled
himself up into a sitting position and rubbed tiredly at his eyes before
looking about the room and the faces that were watching him from the other side
of the room.
“Did you sleep alright, son?” Ben asked trying not to be
too invasive first up and allowing the boy to become more alert before deciding
what the agenda for the day would be.
“Yeah, sort of,” Joe said in a drone voice. The voice sounded thick as though he hadn’t
gotten enough sleep though and his blood-shot eyes portrayed a similar picture
to the others in the room. They
knew that it must be the stress of yesterday getting to Joe. As far as they all knew, he had slept
through the night without so much as stirring until just now.
Ben walked a little closer towards the bed. He gently squeezed Little Joe’s
shoulder in a comforting gesture.
“I feel as though I haven’t slept very much at all,”
Joe said, being evasive about the previous night’s rendezvous, but being
honest enough about how he felt physically because of it.
“I am sure you will feel much better after you have something to
eat, Joseph. You didn’t eat
anything last night for supper,” Ben now said to his son.
Joe now found a tray of breakfast thrust in front of him. He looked at it and then at the worried
faces in the room. He knew he would
have to eat something to ease their minds a little about his physical
well-being. Inside his stomach was
already growing into knots about what was going to happen today. Fifteen minutes later he had
managed to eat a small amount of scrambled eggs and toast to satisfy his
family. He pushed the tray aside
and sipped slowly at the lukewarm cup of coffee.
Halfway through his cup of coffee, there was a knock at the door of the
suite. Adam opened the door and
greeted Doc Martin as he entered the room, medical bag in hand.
“Good morning, Adam, Ben and everyone,” he said in a cheery
voice. His eyes though could help
but focus on the figure he could see sitting up in bed.
“I thought I would check you over today, Joe, before you and your
family make a decision about the trial,” Paul said, as he explained his
presence.
“Doc, I have already made up my mind to go back into the
courtroom today,” Joe said in a casual voice. The reaction he got from
his family and the doctor was anything but casual. Fred Harding had just been entering the
Cartwrights’ suite when he heard Joe say the sentence. He had to hide his on his face when he
saw Ben’s face.
“Your what?” Ben said, not meaning to put so much power
into his voice. He was now staring
at his youngest son with a very puzzled look on his face. He was looking the boy over with his
eyes, trying to scrutinize whether the boy was feeling alright or still
undergoing stress from the day before.
Adam and Hoss together with the doctor had equally curious looks on
their faces. Doc Martin thought he
would really need to work on Joe’s confidence this morning to get the boy
to even talk about what had happened yesterday.
Joe put his coffee cup down and looked at his family for a half a
minute before answering his father’s question. When he was sure that he had
everyone’s attention he told them what he thought.
“I can’t say that I am not scared, because you know I
am. I can’t say that I am
going to handle today any better than I did yesterday. Everything is so jumbled up in my head
that it aches sometimes just trying to work it out for myself. But after all the hard work Mr Harding
has put into this case, I can’t just turn my back on it, no matter how
sick in the stomach I feel when I am in that courtroom.
“Are you sure you’re alright, son?” Ben asked. It was a little hard not to be sceptical
about how his son would cope for a second day under such pressuring conditions.
“Mr Harding, if you ask the questions, I promise to answer them
as best I can,” Joe said now, turning towards the prosecutor to reassure
his family.
“That’s just fine, Joe. I am sure you will do just fine,” Fred
replied simply, so as not to alert the others in the room to the conversation that he and Joe had had
in the early hours of the morning.
“Paul, I still would like your opinion on this and how Joe
is. No matter what Joe says,
if you say he’s not well enough, then I won’t allow him to be put
through the whole ordeal again today,” Ben now said in all seriousness.
Paul nodded his head in acknowledgement and now set his bag down on the
bedside table and pulled out his equipment to carry out the examination. Joe sighed inwardly, but allowed the
intrusion to take place to the time being.
As much as he hated the doctor’s well-meant check up, he knew that
his father would be adamant enough to stop him from telling his story today if
he even suspected he was unwell.
After about ten minutes of total silence in the room, Paul stood up,
ready to give his verdict on whether or not things would proceed as Fred and
Joe hoped they would.
“Well, I must say you still look a might tired ,Little Joe,
especially after your Pa says you slept from when I left yesterday until just a
little while ago. But I suppose,
given the unusual circumstances, that can’t be helped a lot. Other than that and the ache I still
know is in your leg,”
Joe looked at him before he could finish the sentence, wondering how
the doctor had known about the pain he was still experiencing, but trying hard
to hide as best he could from his family.
“Yes, Joseph, I can still hear those small gasps of pain that
escape under your breath when I touched your bandages just a few minutes
ago. I want you to
promise me that you will take things a lot slower and easier today if you
can. Other than that, I think you
will be fine. I am going to stay in
the courtroom like yesterday, though, just to make sure there are no
problems,” Paul now added.
Ben’s worry didn’t dissipate altogether after the
doctor’s visit, but it was eased some by Joe’s confession of
feeling alright and the doctor’s confirmation of that except for the
injured leg and remnants of tiredness from the day before. Adam and Hoss also
made a mental note to keep a closer eye on their younger sibling today in case
he needed them.
By 9.00 am they were all back seated in the courtroom. Sheriff Roy Coffee had brought the
prisoner, Danny Griffiths, back in handcuffs and he was once again sitting in
the dock awaiting the trial to begin.
Fred was just finishing shuffling through his papers when the Bailiff
announced the Judge’s entrance into the courtroom. He looked over towards Joe in the
witness box and gave him a sly wink to reassure his young client that
everything would work out alright.
Ben saw the wan smile in return from Joe, but wasn’t exactly sure
what secret messages were going on between them.
“All rise. Judge
Collins presiding,” the Court Bailiff said, as the Judge walked into the
room.
Judge Collins put all of his books and paperwork down on his desk first
and then turned his attention to Little Joe sitting in the witness box. He wanted to get his own opinion before the
lawyers were given their chance to speak.
“How are you today, son?”
“A little better, Your Honour. Not much, but a little” Joe said
in reply trying to keep his voice calm and even.
“Are we ready to proceed this morning, gentlemen?” the
Judge asked, turning towards Mr Simpson and Fred Harding. Simpson and his client Danny Griffiths
seemed to be the only ones in the room uninterested in Joe Cartwrights well
being.
Simpson had been surprised to even see the kid show up. He threw a brief glance towards the
witness box and then shrugged his shoulders. He somehow suspected the kid would crack
under the pressure today as he had done yesterday. If the prosecution wanted to drag this
out a little more for the young man to endure, he was willing to comply.
“Ready, Your Honour.”
“Ready to proceed this morning, Your Honour. As you can see our witness has put on a
brave front and presented himself here again this morning,” Fred Harding
said, as he addressed the Judge.
“Alright, Mr Harding, but if we need to break at any stage today,
Mr Cartwright only need to whisper in my ear again, understood? I will permit any of his family to
approach him if necessary as well as Doctor Martin.”
All involved nodded their heads in agreement, the Cartwrights thankful
that they had a Judge with a little compassion for such a young, impressionable
and vulnerable witnesses.
“Joe, I want to begin by asking you about your testimony
yesterday. Can you tell me if what
you said yesterday was truthful?”
“Some of it was and some of it wasn’t exactly the
truth,” Joe answered, trying to avoid his father’s gaze for the
disappointment he expected to find on Ben’s face.
Ben was a little surprised at Joe’s admittance of not telling the
truth. He knew he still needed to
remained supportive, no matter what Joe said he had done.
“So you lied,” Fred put it bluntly. “How much of what you said was
true and how much was false?”
“I told the truth about finding the man lying on the road. I didn’t exactly tell the truth about
seeing Mr Griffiths before,” Joe now said. His heart was thumping as he gave the
first real indication to the courtroom about knowing the defendant sitting on
the other side of the room.
“Alright, let’s start again at the beginning shall we. You promise to tell the absolute truth
this time, Joe?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Let’s start of with something a little more recent to test
your adherence to the truth. Where
were you last night?”
Ben and his boys raised his eyebrows at Fred more than a little at this
question. Ben narrowed them in
suspicion and waited for his son to answer. As far as he, Adam and Hoss knew, Joseph
had been asleep for the entire night.
Or had he?
“I was in the hotel room”
“Did you remain in your room the entire night, Joe?”
“No, I woke with a start about 1 am. It was still dark inside the room. My Pa and brothers were still
asleep.”
“Did you go back to sleep?”
“Not until about 4.30 this morning,” Joe admitted.
Ben ran a hand down his face and now realised why his son looked so
tired this morning. All he needed
now was the truth about where the boy was between 1 am and 4.30 am.
“Where were you during those early morning hours?”
“I went into your room, Mr Harding.”
Ben could scarcely believe his ears at Joe’s confession. Fred had known all along that Joe had
been awake last night, but chose not to say anything to the family. Not even this morning when he entered
the room when Paul was there. It
was now obvious that Fred had something to do with Joe’s change of heart
about taking the witness stand today.
“Joe, thank you for being honest. Now, I want to go right back to the
beginning of this story and start again from the morning you left to go to
school but didn’t quite make it.
You said yesterday that you didn’t know Mr Griffiths when he was
pretending to be hurt on the road?”
“No, not at that stage.
When I came across him on my way to school, that was the first time I
had ever seen him. I saw him a lot afterwards when they took me away.”
“Your Honour, before we go any further. Some of the details that are going to
follow may become a little more graphic.
The witness and I have agreed that instead of using people’s names
in this story, we are going to call the main offender Mr X. Hopefully this will help Mr Cartwrights
fear of telling the court the truth about what happened without him thinking
about this man the whole time. Once
we reach the conclusion, it is our intention then to reveal the real identity
of Mr X. At this stage not even I
am privy to that information. I
assure you that Mr Cartwright is the only one in this courtroom who knows the
identity of Mr X.”
“Very well, Mr Harding.
I must say this is a little unorthodox. But given the youth of the witness and
what happened yesterday, I am willing to let you have a little more freedom
with your examination.”
“Joe, after the man has stopped pretending to be hurt and has
pulled the gun on you, what happened next?”
“Danny Griffiths then whistled, signalling for the other men to
come out from the bushes that were nearby.”
“Did you see these other men?”
“Not at first. While
he was waiting for them to come out, I tried to turn around and run. I thought that if I could just make it
to my horse I might be able to get away.”
“Continue.”
“Well, like I said I tried to run, but I didn’t get very
far. I fell over and hurt my knee
on a rock. I was just starting to
get up again and try to make a second run when I felt a pair of hands grab me
from behind and start dragging me into the bushes.”
“Did you make it clear to these men that you didn’t want to
go with them?”
“Yes, I started to scream for somebody to help me, but then
somebody put their hand over my mouth very hard. I could scarcely breath.”
Ben’s heart was aching with every word as Joe relived the story
of his abduction. Ben cursed
himself for not being there to protect his young son from such monsters. Adam and Hoss were having an
equally bad time at hearing such details from their younger brother. Both of them wanted to know who this mystery
Mr X was and break his neck.
“What happened next, Joe?”
“Well, they kept dragging me further into the trees. I could see Mr Griffiths taking
Cochise’s reins and leading her into the trees as well. I tried to get away. I was kicking and trying to get free,
but there were two of them, and they were just too strong for me. Once we got into the trees where
we couldn’t be seen from the roadway, I was pushed up against a large
tree and held there.”
“Did you say anything then, Joe?”
“No, because the hand was still over my mouth then. Mr X took the hand away and
started to tie my hands together with a piece of rope. I tried to scream for help again
when he didn’t have his hand over my mouth, but all he did was slap me very
hard across the face. It
stung.”
Hoss found himself wringing his hands together to work out the
frustration he was feeling at hearing his brother’s heartfelt story. He wanted so bad to slap these men back
for his brother. How dare they
strike a young teenager without cause?
The mere thought made his blood boil.
“You’re doing just fine, Joe,” Fred now reassured his
witness as he saw the strain beginning to show on Joe’s face. The kid was still holding up well, but
the eyes held all the expression of fear and anxiety.
“What happened after they
tied your hands together?”
“The other man asked what they were going to do with me now. Mr X told him that they were going
to take me to a place until my Pa did what they said.”
“Mr X said that it was time for me to go to sleep then,”
Joe said, as he felt a shiver go up his spine as he recalled the rag being
placed over his face. “He
pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
It had a strange smell to it.
I didn’t like the smell and tried to turn my face away before he
could place it over my mouth and nose, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair and
forced my face towards the strange-smelling cloth.”
“Do you remember anything after that about how you might have
gotten to the place where you were being held at, Joe?”
“No, I tried to fight against the smell, but after a few minutes
I must have passed out because I don’t remember anything else until after
I woke up in the shack.”
Adam’s face was like a mask of stone as he listened to his
brother’s story of pain and anguish.
He wanted to take all the hurt and memories away for Joe. He couldn’t have imagined how
frightened Joe must have been of this Mr X as he was told he was being taken
away from his family by force.
“You’re doing very well, Joseph. I know this is extremely difficult and I
admire your courage and I really need you to keep being so brave for just a
little while longer,” Fred now said sympathetically to the young
man. Truth be known, he knew that
there was a very long way to go, but maybe the thought of it all ending would
help Joe a little.
“What’s the next thing you remember, Joseph, after you were
taken by these three men?”
“The next thing I remember is hurting all over. My mind was still very fuzzy from that
stuff they used so I had to stop and think for a few minutes about where I
was. The ground was awfully
hard. Somehow my ankles were now
tied up as well as my hands. I
don’t remember them doing that back at the tree so they must have tied
them after I passed out.”
“Could you describe the
surroundings you found yourself in a little better, please, Joseph?”
“I can’t tell you what the room looked like if that’s
what you’re asking,” Joe now said, his voice becoming distinctly
soft in volume.
“Why is that, Joe?”
“Because the men had tied a blindfold over my eyes so I
couldn’t see where I was,” Joe said and turned his attention to his
feet to hide his anxiety.
Ben gave his son a reassuring smile as the boy lifted his head
slightly. He knew that the boy was
going through a terrible time at the moment reliving something he would rather
not. Ben couldn’t help but
feel a stab to his heart though every time Joe uttered a piece to the puzzle he
was yet to hear.
“What did you do when you realised that you were blindfolded and
couldn’t see?”
“For a while I just lay there scared. Not knowing where I was, where my family
was. Not knowing if any of them
even knew that I was missing yet. I
couldn’t tell how long had passed between being on the roadway and waking
up in the shack. It seemed like a
long time, but it could have only been a few hours.”
“Go on, Joe.”
“Well, after a while I tried to get the blindfold off so I could
see where I was.”
“How did you achieve this when your hands and feet were tied
together?”
“I used the hard ground and rubbed the side of my face backwards
and forwards, trying to get the blindfold to move upwards or downwards on my
face.”
“That must have hurt some, Joe.”
“Not much. I felt a
little sting, but I couldn’t see or feel any blood on my face.”
Ben sighed inwardly to himself and looked towards Adam with recognition
in his eyes. Both of them had seen
the scratches on the side of Joe’s face when they had first taken him to
his room. When they had first found
Joe there were too many other more serious injuries to worry about. With the strong glow of the lantern in
his bedroom, both men remembered seeing the abrasions on Joe’s pale skin
and wondering how they had come about.
“Once you were able to
remove the blindfold, were you able to see better your forced
surroundings?”
“Not really, it was pretty dark inside the room and it was a very
small space towards the back of the shack.
There was no window in the room, just a door that led into the other
room from the front door.”
“Were there any objects like furniture in the room that you could
make out, Joseph?”
“If there was, I didn’t see it. I didn’t get much of a chance to
look around the room anyway once the blindfold was off.”
“And why was that, Joe?”
“Because that’s when Mr X came to the door,” Joe said
and swallowed heavily as he remembered the voice speaking to him as he lay on
the hard cold ground in the darkened room.
“What did Mr X say to you?”
“He said there were a few things he wanted to explain to
me.”
“About?”
“About what was going to happen to me while I was there, I
suppose. He really didn’t
explain things very much at all.”
“What happened next?”
“He took me out of the smaller room into the larger one.”
“How did you do this?
Did they untie your legs?
Did they carry you?”
“No, they didn’t untie my legs. Mr X grabbed one of my arms and started
to drag me across the floor before I even had the chance to get up.”
Hoss Cartwrights eyes were like two pieces of blue crystal at the
moment. Both of them cold and hard as
he heard his brother’s soft voice almost breaking at the ordeal that he
was forced to endure. For a brief
moment, the flame of revenge could be seen to flicker in the very centre of
those blue eyes.
“What happened once you were taken into the larger room of the
shack, Joe?”
“Mr X threw me harshly into a chair that was there. I closed my eyes because of the light
from the lanterns. My eyes were
sore after being in the dark for so long.
I had to open them slowly and allow them adjust to the room so they
didn’t hurt so much.”
“Did you say anything to your kidnappers at this time,
Joe?”
“No, once I let my eyes adjust to the light in the room, I
started to look around for some way to escape.”
“What was the next thing that Mr X did whilst you were seated in
that chair, Joe?”
“Hit me hard across the face when he saw that I was looking
around the room for a way out. He
came right up to my face and said I would regret it if I tried to get away and
he caught up with me. He told me a
whole lot of other things, too.
Threats about what would happen if I didn’t listen to everything
they said to me and told me to do.
Told me about not speaking unless I was told I could.”
“Did you answer any of the threats against you from Mr X?”
“I told him that I understood and that’s when he hit me
hard again for talking out of line,” Joe said grimly and without even
thinking of it, his hand went to the spot of the slap across the face, and he
rubbed at the area in memory.
Ben’s blood was almost at boiling point inside. He could scarcely
sit still in the chair long enough to take in what had happened to his
son. He swore that Mr X would pay
for every single cry of pain he caused his son. He would see justice served one way or
the other.
Adam was like Hoss and sat in stony silence as his brother recalled the
events. It was very difficult for
all of them to hear what Joe was saying happened to them. None of them had any idea of the torment
and pain the youngest Cartwright had gone through. Joe had certainly kept some very dark
secrets to himself about what had happened.
How many more dark secrets did the boy hold onto?
“Was Mr X responsible for making most of the threats at this
stage, Joe?”
“Yes. The other two just stood behind him, watching it all and
then laughing. I remember Mr X
hitting me in the stomach. I fell
out of the chair onto the floor because of the pain. I could scarcely breathe. Mr X grabbed me by the collar of my
shirt and held me upright. If he
hadn’t been holding onto my shirt, I would still be on the floor. My legs
just wouldn’t hold me up anymore.”
“What did you do then, Joe?”
“He held me there for a few seconds and laughed at my pain. The other two men started laughing at me
harder as well. That’s when I
started to get mad inside. I
was angry at being hit for no reason.
Angry that they thought I was something just to punch and leave in the
dirt.”
Ben and Adam had to smirk a little at Joe’s temper. If there was one thing certain in this
world it was Joe Cartwrights temper, even if he was in the worst situation
possible like this, sometimes there was just no holding him back. All of them
had been on the receiving end of Joe’s hot tongue on numerous occasions
when he thought he was being victimised.
His brothers had even been on the receiving end of a few mistimed
punches of Joe’s own when he really got wound up about something he
thought was unfair. They had to be
thankful to a certain degree because it was that same volatile temper that had
seen him through some very narrow scrapes in the past.
“What did you do when he made you angry, Joe?” Fred asked.
“Do I have to say it out loud?” Joe asked, a little
embarrassed and a little guilty about what his Pa and brothers would think
about where he had kicked Butch Thomas.
“Don’t worry, son, nobody in this room is going to think
any less of you. You have nothing
to fear here about what you might have done to try and safe your life. You can it out loud without fear of
retribution from anybody in this room.”
“I kicked him in the crotch,” Joe said in a barely audible
whisper with his head almost down in his lap. Almost nobody in the room heard his
answer.
“Sorry, son, you will have to speak up so everybody hears
you.”
“I kicked him between his legs,” Joe said in a louder voice
and then immediately diverted his gaze from his family, not wanting to see any
disapproving looks that may be present.
What Joe heard was the exact opposite. There was a few whispers amongst the
back rows in the courtroom. Adam
turned around and gave a stern look to those responsible causing those
responsible to fall into silence once again. Hoss on the other hand thought it
was the most daring thing he had ever heard Joe do. He also thought it was the most danged
funniest thing he had heard. He was
happy that his little brother had been able to extract a little pain and
suffering from his captors.
Hoss laughed loudly enough for everyone to hear. Even the Judge himself had to hide a
chuckle at the boy’s brash actions.
Hoss settled himself down and gave his brother the biggest grin he could
muster. He definitely needed to pat
his little brother on the back when they returned home.
Ben wasn’t disapproving of Joe’s actions. He just never thought his son was
capable of doing something like that. He too was glad that there had been a
little streak of rebelliousness in his son at a time when he needed it most.
The laughter soon stopped suddenly, though, when everybody waited to
hear Joe’s painful recollection of what happened as a result of that aimed
kick.
“Were you able to escape as a result of your kick to Mr X,
Joe?”
“Almost. My feet were
still tied together so I had to hop to the front door. I managed to get a hand on the doorknob,
but those other two fellows then grabbed me and pulled me back away from the
door. They kicked me in the ribs a
couple of times and then threw me back into the chair in front of Mr X.”
“What did Mr X do next, Joe?” Fred asked, regretting to
hear what he already suspected had happened.
“He pulled me upright again by the front of my shirt this time
and held me out in front of him about arm’s length away. Then he just let
loose with fists of fury. The first
punch to my stomach was so hard I thought I was going to be physically
sick. I was going to try and say something
to him to make him stop, but before I could even look up, he hit me again. Over and over again, he hit me. I don’t know how many times he hit
me but after a while I don’t
remember any more. I think I
must have been knocked out from the punches.”
By the time Joe finished this portion of testimony he was physically
shaking. Doc Martin walked over to
him and knelt in front of him, clearly concerned for the boy’s
well-being.
Ben also went to his son, but he quickly wiped away the tears that he
couldn’t stop after what Joe had just told them. He could scarcely find words to
speak to his son about how he felt about such vicious and cruel treatment being
taken out on him.
Doc Martin handed Joe a glass of cool water, which was accepted
gratefully. “Are you alright,
Little Joe?”
Joe continued to sip from the glass for a few more seconds. When he handed it back to the doctor,
his face was still pale and his eyes showed some signs of fatigue setting in.
“I can’t stop now, Pa, or I will never get this
finished,” Joe said, as he answered Paul’s question to his father.
“What do you say, Paul?
Is it advisable for him to continue?” Ben now asked his
friend. Even though he knew the
court needed to continue, he wasn’t prepared to risk his son’s health
and have him collapse in front of everybody like he done yesterday, no matter
how strong the protests about him being allowed to continue.
“You’re starting to look a little tired, there Joe,”
Paul said, voicing out loud his observations of the boy’s condition. “Are you sure you
don’t want a small break, even just for a few minutes?”
“If I stop now, these thoughts going around and around in my head
are going to make my go crazy, Doc,” Joe answered honestly. “I need to get them out and then I
can rest. I don’t think I
would be able to rest very well at the moment, anyway. My head is so full of flashbacks and
memories that it is difficult to tell my nightmares from reality at the
moment. Please, I need to continue
and finish this.”
Joe’s emerald green eyes held the pleading look that convinced
Paul that he needed to do exactly that.
“Alright, but you say when you have had enough,” Paul said
making sure that Joe took note of his advice.
“Your Honour, the witness is getting fatigued very quickly, but
has requested that he be allowed to continue. I will allow him to continue at this
stage, but I will be checking on him regularly throughout the rest of the
morning. If I feel he is risking his
health again, like yesterday, I will request a break on medical grounds,”
Paul said, as he addressed the Judge.
The Judge acknowledged the doctor’s sound advice with a nod of
his head and a glance at the young witness beside him. He had much admiration for a young man,
so determined to put things right but so full of painful memories that nobody
should have to go through.
“What’s the next thing you remember after being punched
over and over by Mr X, Joe?” Fred asked in a very compassionate
voice. He had never had a witness
before who had been so victimised or hurt.
He doubted he would have one ever again that had gone through as much as
Joe Cartwright.
“The next thing I remember is waking up with pain. Lots of it. It was really hard at first to tell
where it was coming from. The
punches that Mr X threw seemed to land everywhere on me. When I started to come to, I was lying
on the floor. That’s where I
must have landed when I passed out.”
“Can you describe what sort of pain you were feeling, Joseph, and
where you think it might have been coming from?”
“It was different from when I woke up in the other room. When I woke up in there, it was just
mainly stiffness from my hands and ankles being tied up for so long and the
awkward position I was lying in.
When I woke up the second time, the pain was more distinct and very
sharp in some places like my ribs and chest. I couldn’t even move a inch on the
floor to try and sit up to see where I was hurting without feeling some sort of
pain.”
“Please continue, Joe, about what happened after you came to on
the floor.”
Joe swallowed hard and looked towards his family. No matter how hard the story had been to
tell so far, the next part was going to be somewhat harder still because these
where the incidents that had truly driven the fear into Joe. What happened next was why he had been
waking up screaming from his nightmares once he was returned home. These were some of the biggest secrets
he had ever dared to keep from his family, and he wasn’t sure how they
would react once they heard the entire details.
Ben saw the look on Joe’s face and knew that his son was battling
again to keep it all together. He
saw his son’s reluctance to reveal the details he had kept to himself for
so long. He continued to show
his son compassion, understanding
and love through his dark brown eyes.
If it was security and a sense of safety Joseph needed to feel right
now, he need look no further than his family, sitting only a short distance
from him. They would led him through
the darkness and pain into the light and comfort.
After all they had heard so far, nobody, including Judge Collins, was
willing to rush the young man. They
sat in complete silence and waited until he was ready to start telling the
story again.
“The next thing that I remember was Mr X lifting me up by the
front of my shirt again and throwing me back into the chair. I thought he was going to start the
punishment all over again.
I tried to push myself away from his reach, but he came up close to my
face again and told me that I would regret doing what I had done. He said that he would make me learn the
lessons the hard way.”
“What did Mr X mean by this statement, Joe?”
He told Danny Griffiths over there to start making a noose out of some
rope. Danny went to his saddlebags
and pulled out some thick rope and started to knot it together.”
All eyes suddenly diverted to the prisoner sitting in the dock as it
became clearer that he had a much larger part to play in this sickening act
than first thought. Griffiths could
feel the cold eyes of steel from almost every man and woman in the courtroom,
and was at least grateful for the fact of the slight barricade of the dock
being between him and them at the moment.
It wasn’t much protection from an angry mob, but it was all he
had.
“Do you mean to tell this court, Joe, that Mr X instructed the
defendant in the box over there to start making a loop out of rope?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Did Mr X give any indication what the loop of rope was to be
used for?” Fred asked, knowing it sounded like a stupid question before
he even asked it.
“Um, he said a lot of things, really. Some I remember, some I
don’t. Some of it
didn’t really sink in at the time. I was too afraid and too trying to
deal with the pain I was feeling,” Joe replied. Although he was prepared to give honest
answers in the courtroom today, the
words that Butch Thomas had spoken to him that day about him being is worst
fear and always being in his dreams was something that he was not prepared to
ever repeat again. The words had
been echoing in his head since he had returned home and they still haunted him
today.
Fred saw the reluctance in Joe to fully give the words spoken, but didn’t
think they were critical to the whole case as this stage.
Ben also saw Joe’s hesitation and wondered whether they would
ever know what this monster of evil had said to his son that was so encrusted
into the boy’s mind. Whatever
he had said had poisoned Joe’s mind and soul with fear.
“He said he was going to knock some of the fight out of
me,” Joe now answered truthfully.
“How did he intend to do that, Joseph?”
“He grabbed me by the front of my shirt again and pulled me to my
feet again. I thought he was going
to start hitting me again. But he didn’t. He just started lifting me
higher into the air until I couldn’t feel my feet touching the floor
anymore. He lifted me higher
and higher, and then forced me to stand on the seat of the chair.”
The tears were spilling down Joe’s cheeks now as he relived those
terrifying moments, but he kept his voice as steady as possible and continued
the story.
“I tried to pull away from his grip a few more times but he hit
me a couple of times again. He
then let one of the hands holding on to me loose. Danny had thrown the long rope with the
noose at the end over one of the beams close to the ceiling of the room. The noose was just above my head when Mr
X let go with one hand.”
Ben found it very difficult to sit and listen to the words his son
spoke at the moment. It was not
difficult to work out why someone would tie a noose in a rope for someone. What made it harder to take was that
this Mr X seemed to enjoy dragging the torment on for his son. Dragging out his punishment and pain
until the boy was broken both physically and mentally.
Adam had contemplated on taking a walk outside on a number of occasions
so he didn’t have to listen to the too painful recollection of events
from his brother. A walk into the
fresh air might clear his head and prevent him from hearing anymore than he
could stand but he told himself that he needed to be there not only showing
support to his brother when he needed it most but also because his father and
younger brother were finding this as hard to listen to as he was. They had to stand together as a
family.
“Mr X was trying to put the noose of the rope over my head. I kept shaking my head around a little
and moving it from side to side to make it harder for him, but eventually he
got tired of fighting against me and yanked my head still by grabbing a fistful
of my hair. Once the rope was
around my neck, he tightened it until I could almost not breathe. He made sure that the knot was directly
behind my neck.”
“Did you say anything to try and stop him from trying to hurt you
any further?” Fred asked. He
wanted to try and avoid using the words ‘hang’ or
‘hanging’ as much as
possible for the sake of the witness and the family.
“Yes,” Joe replied and chewed his lip a little. “I tried to tell him that he
couldn’t do it. I was begging
him, pleading for my life, because I thought he was really going to kill me
right then and there. But no matter
how much I pleaded, he told me that he could and there would be no witnesses to
see it.”
“Mr X let go of my shirt then, and Danny tied the other end of
the rope off to the side of the room.
He pulled it so tight that I had to stand on tippee toes to reach the
chair. I kept trying to move my
head and loosen the rope, but it didn’t work. The roped only dug deeper into my neck
and starting irritating the skin around my neck.”
“How many men were in the room now, Joe, when this was all
happening?”
“Three. Mr X, Danny
Griffiths and somebody else. I knew
his name, but I forget it just now.
I’ll remember it later.
They all stood on the other side of the room closest to the front
door.”
“Mr X then told the other two that they needed some shooting
practice and that they could start practicing on the legs of the chair that I was
standing on.”
Joe reached for the glass of water that had been left beside him and
drank long and gratefully, trying to hide his emotions that were threatening to
get the better of him again. As he
drank, he looked over the rim of the glass and got to see the distressed look
on the faces of his father and brothers as well as the fearful looks on some of
the other people sitting behind them.
His father looked very pale and a little tired himself to Joe.
“Did they start shooting at the chair, Joe?” Fred asked,
hoping that by some miracle that something else had intervened and stopped this
act of sheer violence.
“Mr X told them he would take the first shot just to show them
what to do,” Joe answered and placed the almost empty glass back on the
ledge of the witness box beside him.
“Which leg did Mr X aim at, Joe?”
“I don’t know, I couldn’t see from where I was
standing. But I heard the gunshot
and then felt the front of the chair start to tip forward, so it must have been
one of the front legs that he hit with the bullet. I had to move my feet towards the back
of the chair to stop it from falling over and the rope from pulling any tighter
around my neck. It took a
couple of attempts to get the chair from rocking back and forth.”
Fred looked at Joe as if to ask the next question of what happened
next. He didn’t need to,
though, and Joe took this as his cue to keep the story flowing as much as
possible. He was beginning to look
a little more tired and haggard in his facial features. Fred could see Doctor Paul Martin still
keeping a close eye on him from nearby.
“Mr X told them to make it quick for me and for both of them to
shoot at the other legs together.”
“What was the next thing you heard to saw, Joe?”
“I heard three shots.
Two together, at first, which must have been from Griffiths and the
other fellow, but I swore, as I felt the chair fall out from under me and the
rope start to get tighter, that I head a third shot. I don’t know who fired it. It must have been one of the men in the
room, there was no one else who could have done it but I didn’t see
anything else. The only thing I
could recall at this time was the sensation of falling as the rope got tighter
and tighter. I couldn’t
breathe and think I must have passed out again before I hit the floor.”
“What were your thoughts as you felt yourself falling from the
chair, Joe?”
“That I was dying,” Joe said honestly. “That this was so unfair and I was
going to die right there and then without my family even knowing where I was or
that I was dead.”
Ben and Hoss had to wipe away fresh tears from their eyes at the
conclusion of Joe’s statement.
It was now becoming clearer by the minute to all of them why Joe had
kept all of these thoughts and feelings to himself over these weeks. How he had done it without torturing
himself further, they didn’t know.
They all knew that although they were hearing every detail of what had
happened to Joe today for the very first time, none of them would ever
experience exactly how Joe felt at any given time during his captivity. Joe could describe the pain he was
feeling and they could see the physical injuries and scars that were to be left
behind, but nobody would ever be
able to fully appreciate what terrible monsters these men had been to do this
to Joe.
Fred could scarcely put the words together as he knew he had to ask his
young and already tormented witness to keep describing the ordeal that he went
through.
“Can you tell us what happened next, Joe?”
“Well, the next time I can too I was a little confused. I didn’t know whether I was alive
or dead. I didn’t know how
much time had passed between then and when I had fallen off the chair. Then the pain in my ankles and wrists
started to get very bad again so I knew that somehow I was still alive.”
“Could you tell what
time of day it was when you woke up again?”
“No, everything was really hazy then. I could barely lift my head off the
floor without it pounding from the headache that I had. I never looked out the window to see if
the sun was up or not.”
“Was all that happened in the shack, Joe?” Fred asked,
hoping that that was it, but knowing deep inside that there had been more.
“No. I guess they
must have heard me when I woke up.
I must have been moaning from the pain. I heard Mr X come into the room
again. I tried to pretend that I
was still asleep, but he didn’t believe it for a minute. He picked me up and pulled me in front
of him again. He told me it was
time to play the next game.”
“Did you try and plead with him again to stop hurting you,
Joe?”
“Not really. I was
feeling pretty miserable by this time.
When he was telling me that there was more pain and hurt in store for me
I just told him to get it over with and kill me.”
Ben felt the blood drain from his face as his son uttered these
words. Paul had seen the paleness
of his old friend’s face and could scarcely believe that somebody would
be evil enough to cause enough hurt and pain for the boy to feel like there was
no reason at all left to live. Ben
assured Paul that he was alright, but he found his stomach tied in knots with
the worry he was experiencing.
“What was this other sick game that Mr X devised, Joe?”
Fred asked, knowing he was stepping over the boundaries a little when he made
the comment, but not really caring about protocol at this point in time.
“They dragged me over to another chair in the room. I didn’t have enough strength to
fight them. I hadn’t had any
food or water the whole time, and my legs wouldn’t hold me up
anymore. Mr X then pulled out
his gun and emptied the shells out onto the floor. My mind counted them as they fell one by
one to the floor. I thought he was
just going to shoot me and it would be all over.”
“How many bullets were emptied onto the floor, Joe?”
“Six. Four that were
still good and two that had been fired.
And that’s when I realised that he did have something else in mind
because there weren’t any bullets left in the barrel to shoot me
then.”
“What did Mr X do next?”
“He picked up one of the good bullets and cleaned the dust off
with his shirt. Then he loaded it
into one of the chambers in the gun.
He closed the barrel and then begun spinning it around and
around.”
Adam looked at his brother.
It didn’t take a genius to work out what the game was that this
monster wanted to play with Joe.
Russian roulette was a very old and deadly game. It had been played many times in saloons
and bars all over the world.
He just never thought that his brother’s life would be the ultimate
price for such a gamble.
Fred asked the question that everybody in the room already knew the
answer to, “Do you know what Mr X intended to do with the bullet and the
gun, Joe?”
“He intended to play Russian roulette.” Joe said without
any emotion in his voice.
“Did he tell you how he intended to play out these nasty
deeds?”
“Yes, he said that he would spin the barrel first and then shoot
and if the chamber was empty and I was still alive, I would get to spin the
barrel next. We were to keep taking
turns until my luck ran out, I guess.”
“What was his next step?”
“He put the barrel of his gun against my temple and pressed
hard,” Joe said. He was
looking at the floor as he spoke, trying to avoid his family’s reaction. He didn’t see Paul Martin and Ben
look at each other and realise, for the first time since they saw it, what had
made the perfectly round bruise on Joe’s temple when his injuries were
first
being assessed.
Up until now Paul had no idea what had made such a mark on the
boy. He had even testified to the
fact yesterday that he drew a blank at the instrument that might have been
used. He had never thought, in all
his professional years as a doctor that he could start feel hatred for someone
he had never even met.
“Joe, everybody here knows what a terrible time you were put
through. To save you from some
stress and unwanted memories, I think it is safe to say that when the gun was
fired, the chamber was empty.”
“Yes. The first time
and the second time,” Joe replied, making sure that they all knew that
the scene had been played out more than once.
“You mean Mr X spun the barrel a second time and pulled the
trigger again?” Fred said a little dismayed at the man’s obvious
efforts to totally break the boy’s mental and physical spirit.
“No,” Joe said sharply as he lifted his head and saying the
word with definition on his face.
Fred had a confused look on his face that said he wanted Joe to explain
his answer.
“What I mean is that yes, the gun was fired a second time, but Mr
X didn’t do it the second time.
He made me spin it the second time and forced me to pull the trigger
myself when the barrel was against my head. My hands were still tied together and
shaking so much that I could barely get the barrel to spin properly.”
“Oh, Joe,” Fred said in a very sorrowful voice. He really didn’t know what else to
say.
“I guess somebody must have been watching over me,” Joe
said with a little false laughter at the end. He knew that everybody felt sorry for
him about what happened, but his fierce sense of independence wanted them all
to forget what had happened just like he had to try and do.
Ben had a fairly good idea who Joe thought was watching over him that
day and he turned his face towards the ceiling and sent a silent prayer to the
Lord above and to his wife Marie.
Joe asked for another glass of water. Hoss was only happy to oblige his
younger brother. At least this way
he thought he was doing something useful.
He had promised his father and Marie that he would always be there for
Joe when he needed him. After
hearing his brother’s horrific story of self-reliance and survival, he
had never felt that he had let his brother down so strongly before.
“Did anything else happen after that, Joe?”
“I don’t really remember anything else. I had my eyes closed, too scared to open
then and see the bullet that was about to kill me. The next thing I felt was a hit to
the back of my head with something hard.
I don’t know what he used, but it hurt and all I saw was
blackness.”
“Is that the last time you saw, Mr X?”
“Yes and no” Joe answered simply. But not the last time I heard him or saw
him in my dreams, he thought silently
to himself.
“I am afraid you will have to expand on that double answer,
Joe”
“Yes, it is the last time I seen him at the shack. Its not the last time I have seen him
since I was brought home.”
Fred made a mental note to explore that answer in detail a little later
on.
“Can you tell us how you managed to escape from the shack,
Joe?”
“I came to back in the smaller room in the shack. My head hurt so bad I could barely sit
up. It took a long time for
me to be able to focus enough to look around. The room was very dark and it was hard
even to make out any basic shapes.
My feet and hands were still tied together. They were starting to go numb from the
blood not circulating through them.”
“For a long time I just tried to loosen the rope around my hands
and feet. The ropes were very
tight, and I didn’t think I was going to do it. After a long time I felt the ropes
on my ankles stretch a little, not much but a little. I took off my shoes. When my shoes were off it was
fairly easy to pull my feet through the rope. Then I started on my hands. They also took a lot of time to
stretch the rope. My hands stung
from the skin being almost rubbed away in some places.”
“My eyes must have adjusted to the darkness in the room some, and
I could see a cup of water sitting on the floor a little way from me. When I got to it I drank a little of it
and then poured the rest of it over my hands to try and stop the pain and
stinging from the rope. I poured a
little on my ankles, but they were not as raw because I had long trousers on. The rope hadn’t rubbed against the
skin so much around my ankles.”
“I started to look around the room for some way to get out. I couldn’t have gone through the
front door because they would have caught me again. I tried to find another way
out. I kept stopping, though,
because I thought I heard them coming towards the door.”
“I moved to the furthest corner in the room where I thought the
sound would be heard the least. I
started to feel around the boards of the walls for ones that might be a little
loose and I could get my hands underneath. When I felt the ground underneath
the boards, it was very wet and muddy from the rain outside. I could feel the bottom of the boards
were wet, too. I put my feet
against them and grabbed a hold of one of them and started to pull from the
bottom. I was lucky and the first
one broke fairly easily.”
“How many of them did you have to break to make a hole big enough
to escape?”
“Four. I still
hadn’t had anything to eat so I was a bit skinny. When I had crawled through the
hole and got to the other side, the front of my shirt was covered in
mud.”
“What time of the day was it outside now, Joe, are you able to
tell us?”
“I didn’t stay still very long to look at the sky, Mr
Harding, but I think it was a few hours before sunrise. There was a little light just above the horizon. After I started running, I
didn’t look at the sky very much at all. I just wanted to get away from
there before they found out I was missing.”
“Did you have any idea about the direction you were headed in
when you started to run?”
“No. I just wanted to
get away. I think I headed
towards the light.”
“Did the landmarks start to become familiar to you as you
escaped, Joe?”
“No, after a while I couldn’t run anymore because the pain
in my chest and side were just too bad.
I had a headache that was really bad, too. All of the trees looked the same
to me. I had to stop quite a
lot to catch my breath. My lungs were burning so that I thought I must have
something wrong with my ribs, maybe from all of the kicks and punches.”
“Did you start to recognize things a little easier once the sun
rose higher?”
“Yes and no. I still
didn’t recognize where I was.
I came across some muddy water and took a small drink from it. I thought
I might get sick if I drank too much.”
“What happened next?”
“After a while walking I came across a stream. Only a small one, not very
wide. Only a few steps to the other
side. I put my foot into the water and couldn’t believe how cold it
was. I almost stopped myself from
going any further, but there wasn’t anywhere else that was any shallower
to cross. I didn’t know if I
had the time to search for a narrower crossing further up or downstream. I thought Mr X and the others must
have found me missing by now.”
“After that I don’t remember anything else until I woke up
with Pa beside me back in my room,” Joe said.
“You don’t remember anything about stepping on the rusty
trap in the stream and being found unconscious by your family some time
later?”
“No. Nothing. The only thing I felt when I woke up
next was being cold,” Joe admitted.
Ben nodded his head at this statement as he remembered how cold his
son’s body had been when they found it in the stream and how his son had
asked for blankets to warm him when he woke up.
Joe had started to force himself to relax a little over the last half
an hour or so. Although the
memories in his head were still very vivid, he couldn’t believe how much
relief he actually got from telling things out in the open. It was as if the weight he had
been feeling on his shoulders was beginning to lift ever so slowly.
That false sense of security was short-lived as the sound of footsteps
could be heard entering the courtroom. Joe looked up and saw two men
enter the room. His eyes only
focused on one of them. He could
feel his chest and throat begin to constrict with the fear that he felt. He felt as though he could scarcely
breathe. This couldn’t be
happening, he told himself, but the scene before him told him that his silent
nightmare was about to come reality.
Joe had diverted his face and head from the two men as they walked
across the room and sat only a few rows behind the defence lawyer. It was Henry Williams, shouldered by
Butch Thomas. Thomas
smirked silently as he saw the face of his young victim as he entered. It had been just the reaction he was
looking for.
Butch Thomas and Henry Williams had not heard the majority of what Joe
had said. Butch Thomas told
himself that he could watch the trial without fear of being identified. The kid wasn’t going to talk if he
knew what was best for him.
He carefully noted the position of various people in the room. He looked over and looked casually
at Danny Griffiths in the prisoner dock, careful not to allow any sign of
recognition to cross his face and give their acquaintance away.
Thomas also made a mental note of where the Sheriff was standing in the
room as well as the kid’s family.
He was lucky enough to recognize the black-haired brother he had seen
before he took the kid. He assumed
the large man sitting beside him and the silver-haired man in the same row must
have been the boy’s family.
He recognized the doctor he had spoken to after the boy had been found
and returned home. He didn’t
pay any attention to Fred Harding, the prosecutor.
Thomas’s glance caught a glimpse of the only firearm he could see
in the room, on the Sheriff. He had
concealed a small pistol inside the coat of his jacket. Nobody would even know it was there.
Williams had been suspicious about the whole thing of going to the courtroom
and gloating secretly in front of everyone. Thomas had been a little more
persuading, though, and told Williams that everything would work out as long as
he acted like a concerned citizen like the other people in the courtroom.
Paul Martin and Ben Cartwright had noticed an immediate change in
Joe. They had seen two
unknown men walk into the room and take a seat at the back of the courtroom,
but they had no reason to suspect that they were the cause for Joe’s
sudden pallor and loss of composure.
They both approached Joe
again with concern clearly on their faces.
They knew that something was very wrong with Joe at the moment. The boy was trembling slightly
again and the paleness of his skin alarmed them the most.
“Joe, are you alright?” Paul asked, reaching out a gentle
hand and trying to reassure the boy that everything was alright. They had all heard the harrowing version
of events given by the boy only a short time ago. Although he seemed to be as strong
as everybody had expected throughout the whole story, maybe now the emotions of
what had happened where truly beginning to catch up with him as he listened to
his own words and remembered the pain that he had endured.
Joe fought against his fear, telling himself that he had to finish
this, no matter how hard it was.
His eyes kept trying to pull his attention to Butch Thomas sitting in
the room. His mind was
screaming at him that the man was there to hurt him again. To possibly take him away from his
family again.
It took all Joe’s willpower to keep his eyes focused on the floor
in front of him. He had barely
taken any notice of the questions asked of him by Doc Martin or his father. He looked up and found them awaiting an
answer to a question he hadn’t heard.
“Sorry, Pa, I didn’t hear what you said,” Joe said in
a small voice.
Ben was patient enough to repeat the question for his son, “The
doctor asked if you were alright, Joseph?”
“I need to finish this, Pa,” Joe replied with a pleading
look in his eyes. “I have
told almost all there is to know. I
can’t tell all of that and then just turn away when I am almost at the
end. I just can’t,
Pa.”
Ben knew this statement to be completely true. His son had shown more courage and
bravery than he had seen in most men twice his son’s age by geting up on
this witness stand today and telling the story they had all just heard. He couldn’t expect his son to
recover just because he had shared his experiences. Part of the healing process
involved the completion and closure from the court. If Joe didn’t get that closure,
his pain and mental anguish might never go away.
Ben now looked at the doctor beside him and saw the same thoughts on
his face. He, too held the same belief
that the boy needed closure to the matter in his own peace of mind. Paul was still worried, though, about
Joe’s physical well-being.
In addition to Joe having looked dreadfully tired over the last hour or
so, he couldn’t help but take note of Joe’s slight winces of pain
that were evidence on his face as the young man bent down to try and rub at the
bandages around his injured ankle.
The doctor was pretty sure that the ankle had been causing him trouble throughout
the whole day, but had only become to their attention because of Joe’s
distraction because of the throbbing.
“Joe, I am getting really worried about you sitting here for so
long. You need to rest. You need to have your injuries looked
at.”
“I can’t rest until this is finished, Doc,” Joe said
bluntly.
Doc Martin nodded his head in acknowledgement. Joe was probably more right than he
knew. If they did break for him to
rest, the boy probably wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway. He had been plagued by nightmares and
dreams since he had been found in the stream by his family.
“Half an hour, Joe and that’s it,” Doc Martin said
coming up with a compromise that he thought was suitable to all. He know turned and got Fred
Harding’s attention and then proceeded to address the Judge as a doctor.
“Your Honour, although it is against my better judgment, I am
going to allow this questioning to continue. But only for a further 30 minutes. Joe is dangerously close to causing more
unnecessary damage to his injuries from lack of rest. He is very tired, and I cannot allow
this to go on for much longer as a doctor and a friend to him. I am aware of Joe’s pleas to be
allowed to go on and respect them, but only for a while longer.”
“Very well then, Doctor, in thirty minutes we will adjourn until
tomorrow morning at your request,” the Judge replied. “Are you sure you don’t want
to break now, Joe?” he asked, as he turned to the boy and asked him
directly what his wishes were.
“I can go on,” Joe said with determination in his
voice. It was a little hard to
believe him, though, as the signs of fatigue and pain began to show on his
young and handsome face.
“Mr Harding, you have a further half an hour to ask the rest of
your questions for today.”
Fred nodded in agreement and was secretly relieved that this would soon
come to an end for Joe. He hoped he
could get all of the questions out within this time, and Joe wouldn’t
need to come back and go through any more tomorrow.
***********************************************************
Ben and Doc Martin reluctantly took their respective places back behind
Fred Harding. Both of them never
took their eyes of Joe. The
young man’s posture gave away further his pain and feeling of
fatigue. His shoulders were slumped
and hunched forward. His head hung
low as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up straight.
Little did either of them know that Joe’s head hung low for
another reason entirely. At the
moment he was battling as hard as he could not to look in Butch Thomas’s
direction. The battle was getting
harder and harder.
As hard as he tried, though, there was something about Thomas’s
dark brooding eyes that drew his attention towards the man. Joe turned his head and looked into
those eyes. He almost felt like
Thomas was able to look into his soul. He could feel any of the
confidence and self-esteem that he had gained from his family’s presence
and support being drained away by Thomas’s stare.
Butch Thomas kept his composure throughout. He gave secret and sly smirks at the
young man as he found that the young man unable to divert his eyes. He knew that Joe feared him. It was very evident on his face what he
was feeling. He was
determined not to give his identity away and he was just as determined not to
allow the boy to tell the court anything about what had happened back at the
shack. He was unaware that
Joe had already spoken about his experiences.
Thomas looked about, making sure that nobody was taking particular
notice of him or the fact that he held the young man’s attention. He placed his right hand over his heart,
making the shape of a pistol with his thumb and index finger to alert Joe to
the fact that he had a concealed gun under his jacket.
The gesture wasn’t missed by Joe. He could scarcely draw his eyes away
from the fingers and the fact that they made the shape of a gun. Joe had taken particular note that
Thomas had dressed himself formally for the court in order to fool the rest of
Virginia City about his true intentions of being there today. Thomas would not have been allowed to
enter the courtroom with a gun belt strapped to his waist.
Joe didn’t think for one moment though that Thomas had come
unarmed, either. He had shown back
at the shack and over the last two weeks that he was prepared to take almost
any measure to stop Joe from telling anybody who was responsible for taking him
from his family.
Joe fully realised what the gun gesture meant. Thomas would be able to shoot
anybody in this room if he so chose, even somebody from his family.
Joe felt the sweat start to bead on his forehead. His heart was slamming against the wall
of his chest, as he thought about the hidden gun. The man’s menace knew no
boundaries.
Emotionally and mentally, Joe was at the end of his tether. He wanted so much for his family and the
other people in the courtroom to know that the man who had done these torturous
deeds to him was sitting right now amongst them. Joe was afraid, though, of what Thomas
might do even in front of all these witnesses. He knew that he couldn’t do
this on his own anymore.
Little Joe told himself that somehow he had to tell one of his family
of Thomas’s presence without saying the words or without giving undue
attention to Thomas. He looked back
and forth between his family and Doc Martin, trying to size up who would note
the subtle signals and understand their meaning. This family member would need to keep
that information to himself as well until Joe decided that it was the right
moment to identify his kidnapper.
Joe now raised his head and looked intently at his older brother
Adam. He was sure that if Hoss knew
about Thomas’s presence, he would be out to get retribution as soon as he
knew. His father would want
to alert Roy Coffee to the man’s presence and in doing so he might put
many people in the courtroom at risk of harm including his family. He couldn’t afford to risk
that.
Joe told himself that he needed someone level-headed and cool in a
crisis situation. Adam was the name
that first came into his head. Adam
would be alarmed and possibly even concerned, but he wouldn’t fly off the
handle like Hoss would be likely to do, and he would try and help Joe
discreetly rather than alerting everyone to the situation.
Adam didn’t miss the long stare that he was receiving from his
young sibling. He knew as their
eyes locked that it wasn’t merely a look that asked for his support and
understanding. Joe was trying to
tell him something. Joe’s
eyes had always been the most expressive part about him. Joe had never been very good at hiding
anything or keeping his feelings from his feelings from his family too
long. As soon as he tried, his eyes
told them all they wanted to know.
Looking at Joe’s emerald green eyes now, Adam could see fear like
no other. Over the past few weeks
he had known Joe to show this level of fear when he was talking about or
remembering only one person. As
Adam looked at Joe with his own warm brown eyes, he realized Joe was trying to give him
something about the person he feared, and then he suddenly understood that Mr.
X must be nearby, even in this room.
Joe had held up particularly well over the last six hours or so whilst
he gave his terrifying version of events back at the abandoned shack. Joe had only just started to lose his
composure to fear within the last twenty minutes or so.
Joe almost cried out loud in relief when he recognized the message in
his brother’s return gaze. He
knew that Adam now understood that his tormentor was in the room somewhere. He couldn’t give away the
man’s exact position without fear of putting himself, his family or
everyone else at risk of Thomas’s fury. He trusted that Adam would somehow alert
his family about what was going on.
Adam adjusted his head slightly, barely noticeably to anybody else
sitting nearby and whispered into his father’s ear what information he
had learned from Joe.
Ben almost gasped out loud with the words he was hearing from
Adam. It took all of Ben’s
willpower not to start scanning the people immediately behind him to see if he
could recognize a stranger sitting amongst them. He could scarcely believe that the
man who had done such terrible things to his son was still brazen enough to
turn up at the courtroom and terrify his son some more.
Over the next few minutes Adam was able to discreetly alert his brother
Hoss, Doc Martin and Fred Harding, with the help of his father, to the fact
that Joe’s kidnapper was in the room somewhere. Adam had taken a particular point
of holding firmly onto Hoss’s arm out of sight as he told him. Hoss’s brow quickly turned
into a frown as he fought against the urge inside him to pull this animal out
of his hiding place and make a public example out of him for Little Joe.
All of them knew the precarious situation that they were all in,
especially Little Joe. They all
knew that he was expecting them all to keep his secret just that until the
moment was a little better. None of
them were aware of the firearm that Thomas had concealed in his jacket.
Fred Harding took it upon himself to make sure that he could word his
questions in such a manner as to draw the man out in the open and incriminate
himself in the process. Hopefully
this would prevent the messy business of Joe having to point a finger at the
man and thereby putting himself in danger from the man who still threatened
him.
“Joe,” Fred began with a cough to hide his
nervousness. “A little over a
week ago, your father tells me, you fainted in your bedroom. Can you tell the courtroom a little more
about what made you faint that day.
Was it because of the injuries you had received from your
abductors?”
“No,” Joe said, as he saw Thomas shift around in his
chair. He knew that Thomas
was becoming aware that he had told all to the court.
“No? Can you add a
little more, please, Joe?”
“I fainted because of something that was placed in my bedroom by
Mr X”.
“You mean that Mr X returned to your bedroom after you where
brought home by your family?”
“Yes, he came back twice,” Joe said, keeping an uneasy eye
on Thomas as he saw the man move again in his chair. He could feel the man’s eyes
burning into his skin as they got darker and darker with anger. He started to tremble slightly at the
thought of what the man was going to do.
Butch Thomas couldn’t do anything to avoid alerting anybody to
his true identity. Beside him,
Henry Williams had looked at him anxiously a couple of times as Joe and the
prosecutor spoke about this Mr X.
Thomas had to laugh a little at the boy’s tactics of dreaming up
an imaginary name for him.
The boy was ingenious, if nothing else. If the boy wanted to play games,
he was willing to play along for a time
He thought that he had made it abundantly clear that the boy was never
to tell anybody about who he was or what had happened back at the shack. Once the game was ended, he would make
sure that the boy paid dearly for his indiscretion.
“He came back when he put me in the closet, but he came back
before that,” Joe said, his voice almost a whisper again.
“How do you know it was Mr X that came back the first time,
Joe? It could have been somebody
else that came into your house without you or your family knowing.”
“No, it had to be him because nobody else could have left the
object that he left on my bedside table.
He knew how scared I would be when I saw it. That’s why he left it there in the
first place.”
“What was this special item that he placed there, Joe? What did he leave that he knew would
make you remember what had happened to you?”
“He left one of the bullets from his gun,” Joe replied and
then looked back towards the ground again to try and hide the redness that was
rising on his face.
Ben and his family still couldn’t believe the words that they
were hearing from his son. Joe had
known all along that this Mr X had been in the house before the closet
incident. How was this boy able to
keep such horrible secrets from the ones that loved him for so long? They couldn’t help but feel hatred
towards this man who had terrified Joe so much that he thought he needed to
hide things from his family and not tell them when he was being threatened.
Fred looked at his watch and knew he had to keep going. There wasn’t much of those thirty
minutes left and any minute now Doc Martin was going to put an end to
today’s proceedings.
“Yesterday, Joe, when you were in the courtroom, are you able to
tell us what made you faint then?
Were you in too much pain from your injuries or was the questioning
getting to be too much of a burden?”
“Neither. I admit
that my leg was hurting some before I asked for a break and went outside. As for the questions, well, I was trying
to avoid answering them as much as possible as I said this morning.”
“Well then what is your explanation?”
“Well, you see, when I got outside and started to head towards
the outhouse, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders from behind. I was going to call out for somebody in
here to help me, but the man put a hand over my mouth before I could scream and
then dragged me into the alleyway so nobody would be able to see or hear what
was going on.”
Joe could feel the redness starting to rise from the base of his neck
again and travel upwards towards his head.
He could feel the beginning of a headache starting to surface.
There were many whispers and shocks amongst the people in the courtroom
about what had happened to Joe when he went outside the courtroom. None of them ever imagined that the boy
had been assaulted again.
Fred asked the question that everybody seemed to already know the
answer to, “Can you tell us who this man was that grabbed you and tried
to silence your calls for help?”
“At first I didn’t know who it was. I was just scared and trying to get
free. Once he had dragged me far
enough into the alleyway he turned me around to face me so I could see who he
was. It was Mr X”
A hush now fell over the crowded courtroom as Joe uttered who the
assailant was. The Judge was
appalled and it clearly showed on his face. He made a promise to himself, as a
overseer of justice, and to the young man sitting beside him who had suffered
and endured so much pain and torment.
Whoever this Mr X was, he would face the full wrath of the law when his
identity became known.
Doc Martin had a look on his face that said he now knew why Little Joe
had faltered in his step when he came back into the room. They had all been able to see the terror
and fear in the young man’s eyes.
He had been trembling from fear and it all became too much for his mind
and body to handle. His body had
already been under enough stress over the last few weeks and was only part way
healed.
Fred knew he really only had time for one or two more questions. He was going to make damn sure that they
counted for Little Joe.
“Joe, we have been referring all day to this man as Mr X. The time has now come for you to tell us
his true name. Do you know what his name is, Joe?”
“Yes,” Joe said in a barely audible whisper. His gaze once again wandered to a few
rows behind where his family were sitting.
He could see Thomas’s face, his eyes now dark as coal from the
anger that was present. Joe was
under no false impressions. He knew
that if Thomas managed to get a hand on him now, he may very well kill him with
his bare hands.
Joe’s mind once again travelled over all of the torture and pain
he had been forced to endure during those days of captivity. He remembered the anguished looks
on the faces of his father and brothers every time he woke them with a
nightmare when he had been brought home.
How often they had sat by his beside and lovingly nursed him back to
health? They had hoped that he
would open up to them and tell them about what had happened to him.
It seemed that the last month or so was all a very bad theatrical
performance by Joe. His life had
been one big puppet show with his strings being pulled by Thomas. Thomas was the director, and Joe found
himself doing just what he was told because of the fear that he felt towards
this man and the threats that had been made to him over and over.
Joe told himself that it was time to break free of those restraints, no
matter what the cost, and come out and tell the court who this man was. He wanted to make sure that his man was
put away so he could never do any harm to anybody else like he had done to
him.
With all the courage he could possibly muster, and that wasn’t
very much at the moment, he looked directly and purposefully at Butch Thomas to
utter his next words. He wanted to
see the man’s face when he revealed his identity. He wanted Thomas to know what it was
like to be afraid. Afraid of what
was going to happen to him, prison or maybe even death by hanging. He deserved no less.
“The man who did all of this to me is….Butch Thomas,”
Joe said, the effort to get those two words out almost too much. He would never have believed that
it would be so hard to say somebody’s name.
Before anybody else had time to react to Joe’s words, though,
Thomas jumped up out of his seat with a roar of pure hatred and primal
rage. “You little whelp. I warned you what would happen if
you told anybody about me,” Thomas spat.”
Thomas now reached into his jacket and pulled out the small concealed
pistol and aimed it directly at Joe.
Everything in the room seemed to happen in slow motion now.
Joe saw Thomas fire the gun.
He had tried to manoeuvre his body out of the way but was restricted to
a slower pace due to his injured leg.
He was still trying to escape from the witness box when he felt a red
hot searing pain in his side. The
pain that erupted in his chest took his breath away and all he could get out
was a half-strangled cry as he felt himself topple sideways towards the floor. He put his hand to his side where
the pain felt the worst. When he
pulled his hand away, it was stained bright red with his blood.
Thomas fired the pistol at Joe just a fraction of a second before Hoss
barrelled into the man with his full weight. Hoss landed on top of the man and
started punching him without mercy.
Now that he knew the identity of Joe’s kidnapper, he was about to
extract some of his own for his little brother.
Hoss’s fists stopped, though, as he heard an anguished cry from
his father. He had almost forgotten
about the gun being fired and now turned around to see what the stray bullet
had struck. He could scarcely
hold back the tears from his eyes as he saw his father and older brother now
kneeling beside the crumpled form of his little brother.
“JOSEPH!” Ben had cried as he saw a man behind him raise a
small pistol and aim it directly at his young and vulnerable son. He saw the boy gasp in pain and knew
that the bullet had struck him somewhere.
He took a brief second to glance around and see Hoss grab hold of the
man who had fired the gun while seated behind them and start punching into
him. He didn’t even give the
man a second thought for the time being.
Ben and Doc Martin had reached the stricken youth at about the same
time. The courtroom was in chaos as
people heard a gunshot and tried to flee out of the nearest exits.
“Quickly, get some cloths or rags to try and stop this
bleeding!” Doc Martin shouted to anybody that was nearby. He was quickly handed some towels
from somewhere, he didn’t stop to take the time to thank the person.
Doc Martin now used pressure together with the towel to try and slow
the flow of blood pouring from Joe’s side that was torn open by the
bullet. The boy was still
conscious, and this gave the doctor a little hope that the pain and the wound
itself maybe weren’t as bad as they looked.
Joe grimaced in pain as the world around him began to become fuzzy and
disorientated. He didn’t know
how much longer he was going to be able to stay awake so he needed to say
things now while there was still time.
He couldn’t tell if the wound was fatal or not. By the worried looks of the faces above
and around him, he judged that it must be bad.
“Everything is going to be fine, son. You just hold on now. Doc Martin and I will take good care
of you. You just lay back and
rest,” Ben now said soothingly to his son. He was trying to keep the boy’s
mind from drifting off and trying to distract him from the pain that was
evident on his pale face.
Ben and the others turned around briefly as they heard a heated
argument behind them.
“Are you crazy? What
did you go and do that for?
You just couldn’t leave things alone, could you? You thought you could play it out to the
end all on your own. Now you have
gone and hung yourself because of your own greed and own
self-glory.” Everyone
was shocked to hear these words coming from Henry Williams as he accused his
partner in crime. He had not been
happy about going to the courtroom at all, but now, with the kid being shot in
front of everyone, Williams knew that everything was going to come out in the
open.
Roy Coffee now walked over towards Williams and gripped him by the
upper arm “Now what would you know about all that has been going on here,
Mr Williams?” he asked, already hearing Williams own confession of
involvement.
Williams hung his head in shame as he knew that he was up to his neck
in trouble for his association with Thomas. At first he had gone along with
the whole idea of kidnapping Joe for the lumber contract and ransom. Then, as Thomas’s deeds had become
much more than that Williams found his association a forced one, but nobody in
this room was going to believe that.
He hadn’t wanted to see the boy hurt, but things had gone a little
beyond that stage now with the boy now lying in a pool of his own blood.
“Adam, could you help me get this other scumbag over to the
jailhouse?” Roy now asked. He
knew that Adam was concerned with the plight of his younger brother. Looking over at the man Joe had
identified as Butch Thomas, Roy knew that the man wouldn’t be coming to
in a hurry.
The man’s face was now a colourful shade of black and purple as a
result of alternating left and right hand blows from Hoss. Roy almost felt like taking a swing at
the man himself, even if he was out cold. By not doing so, he showed more compassion than Thomas had afforded
Little Joe Cartwright all that time he was in captivity.
“Its alright, Adam, the blood has slowed a little. I will get your father and Hoss here to
help move Joe across to my office to see what further damage has been
caused. You can meet us over there
after you finish helping Roy,” Doc Martin now said, as he saw the
hesitation on Adam’s face.
The older Cartwright was being pulled between his love and concern for
his seriously injured brother and the need to help Sheriff Coffee.
“Did you get him, Pa?” Joe now asked with his eyes
closed. He needed to know what had
happened to Thomas.
“Your brother did, Joe.
Hoss really gave him a working over. I don’t think he is going to be a
threat to anyone anymore,” Ben said, as he answered his son’s
question. He could see that Joe
needed that reassurance before he could start to try and relax or rest.
“Thanks, Hoss,” Joe mumbled.
“You’re welcome, short shanks,” Hoss said, trying not
to sound too upset as he neared his brother.
“Pa,” Joe now said, as he forced his eyes open to just a
crack. He had a few more words to
say to his father before he could let himself fall into the perpetual darkness
that was tugging at the edges of his mind.
“Joe, you need to keep your strength. You can say whatever you want once you
are patched up. Right now I want
you to take it easy and let us take care of you for a while.”
“I need to tell you something first, Pa,” Joe said, his voice
getting softer and softer as he spoke.
Ben found himself leaning over closer to his son just to hear what the
boy was saying. “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”
“I’m sorry,” Joe said simply, the tears welling up in
his eyes as he looked to his father for forgiveness.
“Sorry for what, Joe?” Ben replied as he fought against his
own emotions and brushed the stray tears away from his son’s cheek.
“About all the things that I said back at the hotel the other
afternoon. I am sorry,
Pa. I didn’t mean what I
said. I was just scared about
Thomas. I was trying to push you,
Adam and Hoss away when all you wanted to do was protect me.”
“None of that matters anymore, son, it was all forgotten
about. I know you didn’t mean
the things you said. I know how
scared you have been, or I have tried to understand. Until today, I don’t really think
I did understand how scared you were.”
“And you know the part that hurts the most about all of this,
Pa?” Joe said. His words were
beginning to become slurred and incoherent. He was fighting against the pull of
unconsciousness and knew that he didn’t have enough strength to hold out
much longer.
“What’s that, Joe?” Ben said, as he softly caressed
his son’s unruly curls. He
could see that Paul was handling the medical side of things so he just
concerned himself with talking to his son and trying to keep him calm and
relaxed as the doctor worked.
“This is what I get for telling the truth,” Joe said
bitterly. With the burden of Thomas
now off his chest and the guilt about the harsh words he had shouted at his
father now over with, he could no longer fight the fatigue and pain that were
battering him all over. He just
wanted to curl up and forget about everything for a while.
“I love you, Pa……,” Joe said in a thick voice
as the room above him began to spin.
Joe’s eyes now started flickering closed and seemed to roll back
into his head as the boy’s body became very limp. His head lolled to one side and a
soft puff of air escaped his lips in a sigh.
“Paul!” Ben yelled out in alarm. He didn’t know if his son lived or
not. His heart was in his
throat. He couldn’t lose Joe
now. They had come so far now and
it seemed unfair that his son’s young life should be cut short now when
he had already been through so much.
Ben found himself scarcely able to breathe as he gazed down as his
youngest son.
“He is still alive, Ben,” Paul assured his friend as he put
two fingers to Joe’s neck and felt the pulse beating steadily
within. “The pulse is a
little weak and racy, but it is there.
His body has just had enough.
He was already weak to begin with, and now there’s this added
bullet wound. Let’s get
him over to my office now,” he said, as he gave Ben’s shoulder a
gentle squeeze.
“Ben, can you hold that towel against the wound and press it as
hard as you can while Hoss and I carry him? Hoss you take his feet, I will lift his
shoulders. Be careful of that leg,
too, Hoss, I don’t want to cause more injury to it.”
Three men now very carefully and very slowly lifted Joe’s prone
floor from the floor and started towards the front doorway of the
courtroom. Paul supported
Joe’s shoulders and upper body as agreed whilst Hoss took the younger
man’s legs and lower body.
It was an agonising trip across the street to the Doc Martin’s
office. The distance was only short, but with every step, no matter how careful
they were, Joe would emit a loan moan in the back of his throat from the pain
he was feeling as they moved.
Once they got to Paul’s office, Hoss was asked to wait outside
while the doctor and his Pa worked on Joe. Hoss spent an hour pacing up and
down the floor of the doctor’s waiting room before Adam walked in.
“How is he?” Adam asked before he even closed the door.
“I don’t know dadburnit,’ Adam. They have been in there for ages. I have not heard anything from Paul or
the Doc about how Little Joe is.
Its just about driving me crazy, waiting.”
“I am sure they are doing the best they can, Hoss,” Adam
said, as he gave his younger brother a comforting slap on the back.
“How did you go, anyway?” Hoss now asked, as he remembered
that Adam had been given the inevitable task of taking Butch Thomas back to the
jailhouse. Henry Williams had
gone along with the Sheriff with very little protest.
“Alright, I guess. He
was still out when I dumped him in the cell. But Lord knows he is probably doing a
lot better right now than Joe is,” Adam said, as he felt the anger start
to burn within him again. It
had taken all of his strength and willpower not to extract some vengeance of
his own for Joe when he saw Thomas lying in the cell.
The conversation between Hoss and Adam was interrupted by Paul as he
opened the door to the surgery and walked out with Ben not too far behind
him. Hoss paled a
little as he saw the front of the doctor’s surgical gown covered in
blood. He couldn’t help but
know that the blood staining the doctor’s garment was flowing in his
little brother not so long ago.
“He’s a tough one, that’s for sure,” Paul said,
trying to relieve the tension in the room before giving his diagnosis of
Joe’s condition. “Your
brother is going to be fine, after a lot of rest and recovery. The bullet nicked his side, but
thankfully there was not a lot of blood loss, as you saw. Joe is very weak. He will be barely able to lift his head
off the pillow for the next two days until his body replenishes the blood that
he lost. His leg didn’t suffer
any further damage and is looking very pleasing at the moment. If he didn’t have this other
problem from the shooting I’d say he might be able to stand on his leg
again within about three weeks.”
Adam and Hoss couldn’t help but slap each other on the back in
relief. They looked towards
their father and saw only relief on Ben’s tired face as well.
“When will we be able to take him home, Doc?” Hoss asked a
little prematurely, but it was hard for him to hide his excitement to the news
that he just heard that Joe was going to be alright. The man who had caused his brother such
pain and suffering was now securely locked up in the jailhouse along with the
other man involved. There truly was
a lot to celebrate at the moment and be thankful for.
“Now just hold your horses a bit there, Hoss,” Paul said in
mock sternness. “I said he
was going to be alright, but we still need to keep a good eye on that boy for
the next week or so. I want to make
sure that there are no signs of infection or any other complications from the
bullet wound. He is going to
need constant rest over the next two weeks and lots of good food to help him
regain his strength.”
“I don’t want to go against your diagnosis, Doctor, but
seeing the torment that Joe has been put through over the last two days and few
weeks before that, I thought it would be best if he could be brought home to
recover in his own familiar surroundings as soon as he is able to travel
safely,” Adam now suggested.
“I understand what you are saying, Adam, and to tell you the
truth, I am not totally against the idea,” Paul said to everyone’s
amazement. Even Ben had a slightly
shocked expression on his face at the doctor’s agreement to Joe’s
recovery taking place back at the Ponderosa as soon as possible. “And I will tell you why. At the moment his biggest battle
is the physical injuries again.
Until that bullet wound starts to heal on its own and he starts to get
his strength back, his health and physical well-being are the only things we
need to concern ourselves with at the moment.”
“However, once those physical injuries start to heal and he
starts to be up and about again and allowed to go back to a normal routine,
there is no doubt that the biggest hurdle he will have to face is himself
again. There will that fear
of Thomas still for some time to come, and the nightmares at night may continue
for an extended length of time.
Joe is going to need the support of his family and friends,” Paul
explained.
“How long do you expect that fear to still exist Paul, now that
Joe knows Thomas is behind bars?” Adam asked.
“Its very hard to tell.
Just because Joe knows about Thomas not being able to get anywhere near
him, that is no reason to suspect that Joe’s fear of the man will lessen
to any great degree. Time is the only solution
to Joe’s fear of his attacker and the acceptance of what has happened to
him – time and that his family is there to prevent it happening
again. Time for the wounds, both physical and mental to
heal. Both he and you all
will need to take things one day at a time for a while until things start to
improve for him.”
“Ben, I am going to clean Joe up and get him settled into a
proper bed for the night. I will
keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night. If, by morning, there seems to be no
sign of a fever or any other problems, I will probably give him a strong dose
of painkillers and allow you to take him home in a padded wagon. I suggest for tonight that you and
your sons get some rest because Joe is probably going to keep you awake for
much of tomorrow with his on-going care. You are welcome to use the other
beds I have so you can still be close to Joe. I promise to wake you if there is
any change in Joe’s condition at all during the night,” Paul
explained.
“But I want to -- ” Ben started to say before the Doctor
cut him off again.
“No, Ben Cartwright.
I can see by your face that you are ready to collapse yourself. I want Adam and Hoss there to make sure
that you eat a decent meal, have a hot bath and then maybe after all of that
you can come and say goodnight to Joe before you get a good night’s
sleep,” Paul said admonishingly to his old friend. He knew that Ben would want
to stay with Joe as long as needed, but Joe’s care was going to be a slow
process over the next couple of weeks, and he needed to make sure that Ben and
his boys were taking good care of themselves as well as of Joseph.
Ben smiled sheepishly at the doctor’s advice and nodded his head
in agreement of a hot meal and bath before returning to Joe. He did, however, intend to stay with Joe
for the night, no matter how hard the Doctor tried to shift him. “Alright, Paul, something to eat
and a bath.”
Paul was a little surprised that Ben had given in so easily to his
demands, but his friend really did look tired from all of the stress and
pressure he had been under. There
was just no telling Ben that he couldn’t worry when it came to his
youngest son.
“Don’t worry, Doc, we will make sure he does what he is
told,” Hoss said, as he and Adam both flanked their father as he prepared
to head back to the hotel.
“Don’t forget yourselves, too,” Paul said and gently
closed the door behind them.
The doctor then returned to his surgery and found his young patient in the
same position as before thanks mainly to the dose of laudanum he had been given
shortly after being placed on the operating table.
“You have a very worried family there, young man. I hope you have enough sense about you
when you start to heal to accept their help graciously. Lord knows you have taken ten
years off my life,” Paul said to a still sleeping Joe as he brushed back
a stray lock of hair as Ben would have done if he were there.
By the time Ben and his boys returned to see Joe, the doctor had
cleaned him up after surgery and was just about to move him to the bed. He accepted Adam’s help to move
the sleeping youth. Hoss did what
he could and pulled back the covers as Adam and Paul gently lowered Joe onto
the clean sheets.
Joe never looked like stirring under their administrations and Paul
told them this was to due to the dose of laudanum that he had given before the
surgery. He expected that Joe would
sleep through the night until the next morning without much difficulty. At the moment the wound was still sealed
and the stitches were holding nicely together. Paul had been satisfied as he had
checked the bandages again for signs of fresh bleeding after Joe was placed in
the bed.
***********************************************************
Much to Paul’s dismay, Ben had fallen asleep awkwardly in the
chair beside his son. He
didn’t have the heart to wake Ben and move him into a bed. He just hoped that his friend would get
as much rest as his son tonight.
They both needed it desperately.
At about 3.00 am that night, Ben was woken suddenly by a sound. It wasn’t until he sat up in the
chair and tried to rub some of the stiffness out of his neck that he saw that
the noise had come from his son.
Joe’s eyes were still closed, but his sleep was far from
peaceful. The young man was moving
about on the bed, and Ben was worried that his son would undo all of the
doctor’s good work.
Paul was soon at Joe’s side, checking the young man over. There was a slight fever present,
not much to be too concerned about.
Joe seemed to settle back to sleep a little easier as a soft dampened
cloth was laid across his forehead.
He mumbled something incoherently and then his movements became less and
less until there were none at all.
Paul and Ben looked at each other silently but knew that Joe’s
restless sleep was not entirely from his injury. Joe still found himself locked within
nightmares where he was once again back in Thomas’s clutches and there
was nobody around to help him. This
time he hadn’t woken up screaming like other nights, but they had to keep
an eye on him and make sure that he didn’t move around too much to cause
any damage to the stitches in his side.
At 7.00 am the next morning when Adam and Hoss came into the room where
Joe was sleeping, they found their brother still sleeping. Ben had told them about the nightmare
during the night.
“Hoss, you and Adam go down to the livery stable and organise a
wagon from Charlie. Try and find as
many blankets and pillows as you can as well, and we will start getting things
ready to take your brother home this morning.”
Joe’s brothers were only too happy to do their father’s
bidding. Both of them knew the best
place for Joe to recover was at home on the ranch.
Joe had awoken briefly after they had left. Not for long, though He was very unfocused and
didn’t understand where he was.
He could feel the pain in his side and gasped out loud as he tried to
breathe in and out. The doctor
warned him that he had to take slow, deep breaths and let them out slowly in
order for the pain to become more bearable. Joe accepted some water from a glass as
it was held to his lips and even swallowed a few spoonfuls of very thin broth
as it was offered to him.
Within minutes of waking, though, the young man was tiring again and he
could scarcely keep his eyes open.
“Its going to be alright, Joe,” Ben said, as he caressed
the boy’s forehead and watched the boy’s eyes slid closed again in
slumber.
“Once you get him home, Ben, you will need to try and get some
food into him when you can. Just
thin broth to begin with, but a least three times a day. You may have to wake him up to do it,
but without regular food he won’t get any of his strength back. After the second day you may find he
will be awake a little more and you can try something a little solider. Make sure you keep the fluids up to him
to make up for the blood that he lost.”
“I will give you some laudanum. Make sure you use it sparingly,
though. I think he will be
tired enough to rest on his own but he may be in some considerable pain for a
few days because of the wound where the bullet struck. I will be out every day to check on him
until I think the visits can be further apart. If there is anything you need, just let
me know. If there is any change in
his condition or he develops a fever, come for me straight away,” Paul
instructed Ben.
Adam and Hoss now returned and informed them that the wagon was all
prepared and ready for its passenger.
“Make sure that wagon goes as slow as possible over that road,
Hoss,” Paul warned them.
“Any unnecessary jarring from some of those ruts may cause the
stitches to break or the wound to open up and bleed. Make sure you check the bandages once he
is home, Ben, for any sign of bleeding.”
Ben assured Paul that he and the boys would take every precaution for
Joe’s sake. He knew that Paul
considered Joe like a son to him.
“See you tomorrow, Paul,” he said, as they left.
Adam and Hoss carried their precious burden as carefully as they could
down the stairs from the doctor’s surgery and out into the waiting
wagon. Once they placed the still
sleeping Joe on the mattresses and blankets, Ben was immediately beside him,
covering his son with further blankets to stop the boy becoming chilled from
the trip home.
As the wagon
bumped along the road back towards the Ponderosa, Ben Cartwright looked down at
his sixteen-year-old son, who was laying down beside him in a deep sleep. The
sleep was not a natural one, however. It came as the result of the drug
combination that Doc Martin had administered only a few hours ago. It was
supposed to help Joe not feel any physical pain from the injuries he had
sustained.
But what about the emotional and mental scars that had been left
behind? What about them, Ben asked himself. How long would they take to heal? Would
they ever heal? Would his young son ever recover from the torment that he had
suffered at the hands of Butch Thomas over the last month?
If he could turn back the hands of time over the last few weeks and
foresee what would befall his youngest son, Ben would have taken the boy out of
harms way. He would have simply packed up Joseph and one of his other sons,
Adam or Hoss, if necessary, and made sure that Joe was safe in another town
away from the dangers that lurked.
Ben caressed the boy's soft curls, but his son didn't respond to his
touch. It was like a brick wall had been built between them, and it was getting
harder and harder to reach in and find the real Little Joe.
The boy had changed so much over the past few weeks. He had been a confident
young man full of energy and laughter who filled the house with love and joy.
Now the boy was sullen and withdrawn and spoke rarely unless asked a
question, and even then it was a battle to get some sort of answer.
Ben swore to himself that he didn't care how long it took, but he and
his eldest two sons would be there every minute of the day and night, if
necessary, to bring the boy back from the brink and back into the safe and
loving arms of his family.
"He alright back there, Pa?" Hoss asked, as he guided the wagon team
as slowly as he could over the rough dirt road back to the Ponderosa.
"As well as can be expected I guess, Hoss," Ben replied in a voice
that held no emotion at all.
"We will just have to see how he goes over the next couple of days.
It is going to be a difficult time for us all."
Hoss nodded and turned his attention back to the wagon team. As they
pulled up outside the ranch house, Adam came outside, followed by Hop Sing.
Adam had ridden on ahead of the rest of his family to make sure that everything
would be ready in time when Hoss and his father arrived back with Little Joe.
Adam looked at his father before attempting to take his younger brother
out of the wagon. He hadn't
heard the tone of Ben's voice just a few hundred metres back, but he saw the
tiredness etched on his father's face and the worry embedded deep into his father's
brown eyes. His father looked
almost a broken man. The thing that allowed the man to go on lay beside him
wrapped up in the blankets. Adam didn't want to contemplate how his father
would have gone on if Joe had not come back home. He couldn't put into words
himself how he would have felt.
One sixteen-year-old boy held the magical golden key to all their
hearts and kept them all united.
Now, when this same boy had fallen along the way and looked to be
heading away from his family, it was up to that family to make sure that the
boy knew they all loved and needed him endlessly.
The dark thunderclouds above once again threatened to bring down the
heavens in torrential rain. They needed to get the boy inside and into his bed
before the rain started. The last thing he needed with all his injuries at the
moment was to get sick. Hoss thought back a moment and thought that it had been
raining a few days before this all started to happen as well. ‘Funny how
history had a way of playing on your memory, wasn't it,’ he thought to
himself.
"Take it easy, Adam," Ben said, knowing that his eldest son
was already aware of Joe's injuries.
"We have to check that those stitches in his side are still in place when we get him settled upstairs. Heaven
knew what that rough road had done to exasperate the pain and agony his son
felt.
Ben managed to move the still sleeping Joe into a half-sitting position
so that Adam could wrap his strong arms around the fragile boy and lift him out
of the wagon. Ben could feel a little warmth emanating through the cotton shirt
that Joe wore over the top of the heavy padding and bandages around his chest.
A few spits of rain began to fall just as Adam made it to the porch
with Joe nestled in his strong arms. The boy had lost so much weight from
injury and stress over the last few weeks that he barely weighed anything, his
brother noted with dismay. Ben picked up the tails of the blankets from behind
Adam and followed his eldest son, as he carried Joe into the homestead.
Adam had made sure that Joe's room was already warm enough before the
wagon had pulled up outside. He walked into the house and climbed the staircase
carrying his precious burden that failed to make a single sound.
Adam laid his unconscious brother on the clean sheets, and made sure
that he was resting comfortably on the pillows while his father started to take
off his shoes and socks.
Hoss had volunteered to put the horses and the wagon away, but both
Adam and Ben knew that it was eating the middle Cartwright up inside to see his
younger brother like this. It went against the very grain of things in Hoss's
eyes that
this had happened to his
brother. He hated the men who had done this to Joe. He hated the Judge who had
put the boy through so much humiliation in front of everyone. He hated the
justice system that put it’s sole trust in the opinions of a few
witnesses. He hated himself for
being so angry.
Inside, Joe had not awoken as such, but he seemed to be having a battle
against unseen demons again. The demons had probably been created from the
memories of the real monsters that had stalked him and then caused him so much
hurt and pain. Suffering and fear that he had hidden from his family. A deep
gnawing fear that bit into the boy’s very soul and stole his spirit with
it.
Ben sat on the edge of the bed, forgetting all about undressing the
boy. For now, the only real important thing was to let the boy know that his
family was right here with him and that he was loved.
Ben spoke softly to the boy, reminding him of how much his family had missed
him and how proud they had been of him over the last few days. While Ben
talked, Adam went about finishing the task of undressing the boy from his good
clothes that he had worn to court. The jacket had been left back at Doc
Martin's due to the damage caused to it. Ben had declared the garment beyond
repair or salvage and could no longer bear to look upon it and see it stained
with his youngest son's blood.
Adam unbuttoned Joe's trousers once the boots were removed, and had to
keep his own anger in check as he saw the bruises and scratches that marred the
boy's pale flesh. The trousers had been a little stubborn at first due to the
thick bandages still adorning the boy's left shin. The bandages would remain on for at
least another month or two, Doc Martin informed them, before it could be
removed and Joe be allowed to put full weight back on that leg.
Hoss had returned to the house, and now came into the bedroom, carrying
the other reminders of Joe's injuries. He propped the two wooden crutches up
against the wall in the far corner of the room. It was doubtful that the boy
would be leaving his bed anytime soon in the next few days.
The crutches told the story that Joe needed more than his family's love
and caring at the moment just to stand. The boy had stumbled a number of times
while trying to manoeuvre back and forth from the witness stand. To Hoss and
the rest of the family they only seemed to confirm their fears about how badly
Little Joe had been hurt.
Joe was sleeping soundly upstairs and was probably due to stay that way
for several more hours to come. After Adam had managed to get one of Ben's
shirts over the boy's head and bandages, they tucked the blankets in around the
boy. Adam and Hoss had bid their younger brother good-night and left their
father to a more private time alone with his son.
Ben had continued to talk soothing words to his son as he slept. He
caressed his face, then bent down and gently kissed the boy on his bruised
cheek before leaving the room.
About an hour after the Cartwright’s had returned home the three
eldest of them now sat downstairs in the living room. All three were lost in
their own thoughts about the events that had taken place over the last month.
Ben's mind started to take him back to a time about a month ago when
everything seemed to be going fine. If only he could go back there now.
By the time Ben had drained the last of the whiskey from his glass, the
fire was nothing but glowing embers as he stared into them.
Over the next two days the routine was very much the same. The day after the shooting saw Joe do
nothing but sleep due to his injuries.
One the morning of the second day Ben had been totally surprised to see
his son awake when he entered the room with a tray of breakfast. He smiled at his son and set the tray on
the bedside table before sitting beside him on the bed.
“How are you feeling this morning, Joseph?” Ben asked, not
wanting to ask a barrage of questions about what had happened at the
trial. They could talk more
about what had happened at the trial when Joe felt he was able to.
“Fine,” came the reply from Joe. The voice was thick, and Joe’s
face was still paler than Ben would have liked to see.
Ben pondered what question to ask to keep the conversation going when
Joe asked a question of his own.
“When will it stop, Pa?”
“What stop, Joseph?”
“When do I get to feel safe again? Even now, with Thomas away in
prison, I don’t feel safe.
I can’t help but wonder if he is going to be released some day
only to come back and torment me again. I close my eyes to sleep and all I
see is a picture of his face in my head and then his fist as it swings to hit
me again,” Joe said. His
voice betrayed him as the tears started to fall down his face.
Ben put his arms around his son and held him close as the boy sobbed
into the front of his shirt. The
boy was hurting so much. It
wasn’t fair.
“Look at me, Joseph,” Ben now said gently as he waited for
Joe to turn his face towards him.
As Joe did so, he wiped away the tear stains from his cheeks. “I cannot tell you when the
memories will stop, son. I would
give anything I owned for you to have one night of peaceful sleep, free of
nightmares. I would do
anything if I could just trade that time you were with that man and have you
back home safe with me.”
“All I can tell you, Joe, is that I love you more than anything
else in this world, and I would do anything to protect you. I can’t tell you enough how
it breaks my heart to see you so upset or the bruises on your body and the fear
in your eyes when somebody walks into the room.”
“I hope that as the days go by, you can come to believe in me
again and know that your brothers and I will always be here for you when you
need us. Your brothers are just as
determined as I am to show you how much they care about you.”
“I just want it all to end, Pa,” Joe said simply and curled
up against his father’s chest, letting the man’s warmth and
security surround him. It was
the first time in weeks that he felt truly safe.
After a while Ben could hear his son’s even and slow breathing
that indicated Joe had fallen asleep again. He gently moved his son and laid
him back down on the bed, covering him with the quilts again.
On the third day, as Paul arrived for his daily visit, Ben was
surprised to see Fred Harding sitting in the buggy beside him. Fred spoke to
Ben while Paul examined Joe up in his room.
Fred informed Ben that Thomas was already on his way to the State
Prison by prison wagon. Once he got
back to San Francisco, he would make sure that Butch Thomas was sentenced to a
long jail term for his deeds.
Williams would also do some time in prison, but his charges
weren’t as serious as his partner’s.
Williams would be able to successfully argue that although he knew
about the kidnap plot and even footed the bill for such a crime, he had not
laid a hand on the boy and had not been responsible for any of the injuries the
boy sustained. He would also
be able to defend himself when it came to the two occasions on which Butch
Thomas had tormented the boy on the Ponderosa.
“Do you think I could say goodbye to the boy, Ben?” Fred
asked. The boy had come to mean
something to him even though they had only met a few days ago.
“Sure, come on up.
He was still feeling very depressed this morning, but hopefully now he
may be in a slightly better frame of mind,” Ben said, as he led Fred up
the staircase towards Joe’s bedroom.
Ben was relieved to see Joe awake and talking to Adam and Hoss when
they came into the room.
“Well, its good to see you awake, son,” Ben said.
“We were just keeping him company, Pa, while the Doc checked him
over. He’s a stubborn little
cuss. Won’t barely keep still
for a second for Paul to look at him properly. I told him I was going to sit on him if
he didn’t stop squirming about,” Hoss said, as laughter shone
through his blue eyes.
“Is this true, Joseph?” Ben asked in mock sternness as he
stood in a demanding stance with hands on his hips.
Joe looked at his father and then at the lawyer that was in the
room. He had so much to say to the
man who had helped him through the trial.
But he didn’t think that right now, in front of all of these
people, was the right moment. He
would write a letter just like his father wanted and express in words his
gratitude and thanks.
Joe saw the lawyer there and couldn’t help but ask him about the
secret plan they both worked out together. “Mr Harding, you know those
two horses are probably still waiting for us in the livery stable back in
Virginia City if we wanted to make that escape. I just need you to give me a hand
getting out of this bed, and we can be on our way,” Joe said jokingly.
“Joseph Cartwright, you will not move on inch out of that bed or
so help me…” Paul Martin started to say as he pointed a threatening
finger at this most reluctant of patient’s.
“Oh don’t worry Paul.
I have something to say about this,” Ben said to his friend and
then turned to address his son “Joseph, believe me, it is going to be a
long time before you are allowed off this ranch again without me or your
brothers present. Do I make
myself clear young man? I will tell
you what I told your partner in crime here,” Ben said, as he indicated
Fred Harding “You and
he are restricted to the ranch until further notice. There will a list of chores posted
on the barn door for you and him to complete as part of your punishment.”
Everyone in the room laughed heartily at Ben’s words and the
looks on Joe’s and Fred’s faces. Joe had to stop laughing, though,
as his side began to ache.
“Boy, Mr Harding. How
does it feel to be one of the highest paid lawyers in the state, but grounded
by my Pa?” he said and laughed again whilst holding onto his side.
Joe’s family watched him intently as he joined in the laughter in
the room. It was the first real
laughter they had heard coming from the boy for a very long time. It was a very good sound to hear. They hoped that this was the first
turning step in a whole new direction for Joe. Hopefully, if he could find laughter in
himself, he could begin the healing process and eventually push the dark
memories to the back of his mind.
They probably would never be gone completely, but hopefully they could
be suppressed by happier memories.
EPILOGUE:
Over the next few weeks, Joe’s injuries began to heal as well as
his mind. There were nights
where the nightmares would become real again and Joe found himself being
surrounded by his family’s love in order to drive them away again.
As he was given more freedom to move about the house and then the
ranch, his family could almost see the real Joe resurfacing again. Everybody was able to relax a little
more, and meal times were shared when them talking to each other again. The Cartwright household was
almost back to normal.
It was only on odd occasions when Joe would be laughing, but then fall
into a deep silence as he stared out in front of him with a look that Ben knew
his son still remembered.
Joe’s eyes would grow darker in thought and a shadow would cross
his face as something triggered his memory. Just as quickly as it had come, though,
the mood would pass and his family would never suspect that anything had
happened at all.
About a month after he had been allowed to return to light duties, Joe
was in Virginia City, collecting the mail as part of his restricted duties for
his father.
As he ambled back into the wagon loaded with supplies and took a look
at the five envelopes in his hand, his curiosity was alerted when one of the
letters held his name on the front.
He didn’t remember writing to anybody lately except Fred Harding,
and he had already received a reply to that letter weeks ago.
Joe put the letters aside for the time being and drove the wagon and team
home as instructed, knowing that his father would only worry if he were
late. About halfway home,
though, the curiosity become just too great, and he pulled the team off to the
side of the road and reached for the handwritten envelope.
He turned it over in his hand a couple of times before opening it,
trying to judge from the outside who it was from. There was no postmark on it to say
where it was from and no return address on the back of the envelope. Without giving it another thought, he
slid his finger under the envelope flap and tore the top open. There was a single-paged letter
inside.
As his eyes scanned the words, his hand flew to his mouth to stop the
gasp that was on the tip of his tongue. He read the words again, scarcely able
to believe what they said:
SOMEDAY I
WILL COME BACK. YOU AND I
WILL MEET AGAIN – I PROMISE
BUTCH THOMAS
Joe refolded the piece of paper and placed it back into the envelope
and then tore both the envelope and letter into small pieces, scattering them
in the wind as he went. He knew he
couldn’t let his family see such a note.
Just as he was about to start the wagon team again, a cool gust of wind
blew against the nape of his neck.
He pulled his jacket close around him and looked behind him… He shivered slightly and then gave the
reins a sharp snap to start the team towards home.
THE END
FROM THE AUTHOR – I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS STORY – I REALLY LIKED WRITING IT. THANKS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE OUT THERE FOR THEIR KIND-HEARTED WORDS. AND THANKS TO THOSE WHO ALLOWED ME TO USE THEIR IDEAS, THOUGHTS OR CHARACTERS IN MY STORY.
Special
thanks to Satu for being such a pal.
JULES