Dead Man’s Canyon
CHAPTER
SEVEN
About an hour after he went into his room,
Hoss walked into his brother’s room and went towards the bed to wake him for
supper time.
Hoss
paused a minute though as he gazed down at Joe’s peacefully sleeping face. From the angle where he was standing it
looked to him as if the boy had tear stain tracks running down his face. As though he had been
crying before he went to sleep.
Hoss
frowned a little and moved his head a little, making sure it wasn’t the
reflection of the sun shining through the glass window playing tricks on his
eyes. He finally decided that he
couldn’t be sure but deep down, from expressions that he had seen on his
younger brother’s face over the last two days, he was sure that Joe was keeping
something from his family.
“Joe,”
Hoss said in a quiet voice, so as not to startle his brother awake. He waited a few seconds to see if there was
a response. There wasn’t so he repeated
the process.
This
time, his brother mumbled a few incoherent words and attempted to roll away
from the voice that was talking to him.
“Come
on Joe wake up” Hoss said a third time.
This time he was rewarded with the boy at least opening his eyes and
trying to work out why he was being disturbed.
Joe
looked a little confused around the room and looked a little embarrassed as he
noticed the shadows on the walls of his room.
He now knew that he must have fallen asleep after coming into his
bedroom.
“Sorry
Hoss, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Joe said sheepishly. He know pulled
himself up into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the
bed. It was now with the sudden movement
that the pain from the back of his thighs was brought to life again.
Joe
winced slightly, loud enough for his older brother to hear and then inwardly
kicked himself for letting on. He hoped
he could cover his tracks enough
“You
alright short shanks?” Hoss said as he heard his brother gasp in what sounded
like pain. He looked intently at Joe’s
face as he asked the question, waiting to see if there was any deception that
couldn’t be heard when the boy spoke.
“Fine
Hoss,” Joe said innocently, “Just got up too quick that’s all and got a cramp
in my leg” he lied.
Joe
now got off the bed altogether and stood in front of Hoss to prove that there was nothing
wrong with him. He battled hard to
keep his face rigid as his legs threatened to betray him. The pain was now a dull ache that seemed
determined to hang around for a while.
“Adam
sent me up to tell you that supper will be ready soon,” Hoss now said, relaxing
his guard a little when Joe seemed to be okay.
“I’ll
just wash my face and hands then Hoss and be down in a minute,” Joe replied
with a winning grin.
“Sure,”
Hoss said and left the room.
Joe
sighed a little as he watched Hoss leave, knowing he had at least a few minutes
to gather himself together before facing his brothers downstairs at the table.
Joe’s
attention was now drawn to the fact that his jacket from the day before was
still hanging over the chair near his bed.
As he remembered the events of the day and what the teacher had shouted
at him, he was reminded that Mr Watson’s note was still tucked neatly away in
the pocket.
Joe
made a mental note to himself to read the note later that night after his
brother’s had gone to bed, before his father had a chance to look at it. He wanted to make sure that the words
written about him weren’t too harsh and wouldn’t cause him to get into too much
trouble with his father.
As
Joe now walked out of his own bedroom, his thighs still hurt at the walking
action. The stairs seemed to make the muscles hurt even more as he descended
them.
“Thought
you must have gotten lost up there,” Hoss joked at this brother as he saw Joe
come down the stairs and approach his chair at the table.
Hop
Sing was busy bringing out the various platers of meat and vegetables. The aromas invaded his senses, letting him
know just how many meals he had missed
over
the last day or so and how hungry he really was.
Joe
pulled out the hard wooden chair and looked down at the seat before sitting
down. He inwardly gulped a little as he thought about how his thighs might ache
even more without a little padding to ease the injured area.
Joe
sat down very carefully and now concentrated on putting some food onto his
plate.
For
the next few minutes, all three brothers concerned themselves with the task of
eating. Adam and Hoss were a little
surprised at the level of silence at the table
tonight.
On
any other given night, Joe would be chatting idly, telling them all about the
big adventures he had planned with his friend for the school holidays when they
arrived the day after tomorrow.
Tonight
proved to be the absolute opposite, with the boy not offering any topic for
conversation at all.
The
hard seat began to cause the pain in Joe’s legs to be more noticeable. Unintentionally he began to squirm around in
the seat to alleviate the aching.
Trying
to
find a comfortable position was proving very difficult.
Adam
watched his brother with raised eyebrows for a few minutes and questioning
glances at Hoss as he noticed the squirming action of his brother. Joe’s eating was being disturbed continually
because it seemed that the boy couldn’t sit still in the chair.
The
boy would take a mouthful of food and then move, only to take another bite of food and move back
again to another position. Adam
couldn’t work out why the boy was moving around in the chair so much. He was beginning to become frustrated and
wished Joe would tell him what was wrong.
Adam
refrained from voicing his concerns though because Joe was actually eating and
he knew that if an argument ensued over his moving about, then the boy would
end up pouting and refusing to eat anything.
Finally
after twenty minutes or so, the constant moving about even seemed to be
annoying Joe himself. He decided he
had to taken other alternate action or he
would
have to remain standing for the rest of the meal.
The
boy could feel his brother’s curious looks at him as he now walked over to the
living room area and took a smallish cushion from the settee and placed it on
the
hard
seat of the chair before sitting down.
As
he looked up, fork in hand, he could see Adam’s eyes still on him, waiting for
an explanation about the cushion.
“I
told Hoss this afternoon that my saddle is chafing my legs a little lately and
they are a little bit sore,” Joe said, hoping that wouldn’t read anymore in his
explanation
than
was necessary. At least he wasn’t
telling an outright lie. Some of what he
was saying about his legs being sore was actually true.
Adam
seemed happy enough with his younger brother’s explanation and now turned his
attention to his own meal that was now rapidly turning cold. Joe’s explanation still didn’t tell him why
the boy was so quiet tonight. He thought
it best to explore that avenue after they had all eaten.
Adam
glanced up at the grandfather clock and hoped that Ben wouldn’t be delayed to much longer tonight.
The time was already showing
*********************************************
As
the evening meal came to a close and Hoss filled his plate with another
spoonful of desert, Joe announced that he had finished eating as asked to be
excused.
“Sure
Joe. How about you get ready for a bath
then before bed,” Adam suggested.
“Do
I really have to go for a bath Adam?” Joe asked in a disappointed tone of
voice.
“Yes
you do, it won’t hurt you, now off you go,” Adam said, not raising his voice
too much for fear of the boy rebelling even more against his request.
“Yeah, won’t hurt much” Joe thought to himself.
“Hop
Sing make nice warm bath for Lil’ Joe” the little oriental man said as he heard
the beginning of the argument between the brothers. He hoped the soothing water might calm Joe’s
temper as well as relax him enough for bed shortly thereafter.
“Please
don’t put any of that smelly soap in tonight Hop Sing,” Joe said genuinely,
afraid of how much the water on the marks the teacher had left. Soap would just
make
them sting Joe said to himself.
“You
do as Mr Adam says and Hop Sing not put any in,” the little man replied,
muttering to himself as he headed back to the kitchen
towards the bathhouse. How
was
the boy supposed to have a bath without soap he asked himself.
Hop
Sing soon announced that the bath was ready and warm enough. Joe had been sitting very carefully on the
settee so as not to move around too much and now very reluctantly got up and
walked towards the bathhouse.
Adam
watched the boy’s deliberate and stiff walking action from behind and noted
that the boy must be telling the truth about his legs hurting from the
saddle. He made a note to himself to
have a look at Joe’s saddle after he came home from school tomorrow in an
effort to make it more comfortable to ride for him.
“He
say anything to you this afternoon Hoss?” Adam now
asked his larger framed brother, trying to get an angle on what had caused
Joe’s sullen mood this evening
at
the table.
“Don’t
ask me. I think he is still not talking
to me after I turned up late to pick him up,” Hoss replied. He had truly believed that was the reason
Joe had not spoken to him during the whole of dinner.
Adam
now sat back and attempted to go back to reading his book. Truth was his thoughts were still on what was
troubling his youngest brother.
In
the bathhouse, Joe was just beginning to get undressed. He had made sure that he was all alone for a
few minutes before getting started. The
last thing he wanted tonight was for one of his brothers or Hop Sing to
accidentally walk in and see the marks on the backs of his legs.
Whilst
in his heart he knew he should be telling his family exactly what had happened
that day. The fear of the man’s words
about what might happen if he did tell remained strong in his mind.
He
had another day of school to get through yet and he would prefer to get through
it sitting in the classroom and not being locked away in the back storeroom.
Joe
was just about to get into the large metal tub when he saw the mirror standing
up against the wall of the bathhouse.
Normally Joe didn’t take much note of what he looked like before or
after a bath, but as he stood there with nothing on, and turned to the side
slightly, it was hard for his eyes to avoid the red welts that now adorned the
skin on his thighs.
The
welts, whilst not bleeding or such, they still stood out against the white skin
on the boy. Joe had no doubt that there
would be some bruising present in a few days. He would need to make sure very
carefully that nobody saw his legs until after the bruises had healed fully.
Joe
now tried to put the images out of his head as he put his feet into the tub and
to sit down for his bath. The water on
his toes was surprising very warm and the
steam
rising up from the water had an almost immediate relaxing quality to it.
Joe
tried to clear his head of all thoughts and events of the day as his knees and
lower legs came into contact with the warmth of the water.
The
boy was forced to clamp a hand over his own mouth though and clench his teeth
together to avoid releasing the cry of pain as the welted area now came into
contact with the water. Joe had tears
in his eyes at the stinging sensation he felt as he forced his body further and
further into the water.
For
the next few minutes all Joe could do was keep his eyes shut and his face taunt
as he waited for the stinging to abate.
Luckily this didn’t take too long and Joe once again found there only to
be a dull ache in the back of his thighs.
The ache was slowly becoming less and less and the water soothed the
reddened area.
Joe
had removed the bandage around his burn mark before getting into the tub. He
dabbed gentle at the area with the warm water and was happy to note that it
didn’t look as red today.
Joe
washed his body before the water became too cold. He hoped that the warm water would also help
to quicken the healing process of his legs.
When he was clean enough and whilst the water still felt good on his
skin, he lay his curly head back against the metal rim
of the tub.
The
steam was now lessening due to the cooling off of the water, but there was
still enough inside the bathhouse itself to massage Joe’s senses and let his
mind and body relax. Another five
minutes without movement and Joe’s eyes began to slid
close.
*************************************************
Half
an hour had now passed since Joe had been sent for his bath. Adam looked up at the clock and wondered what
the boy was doing in there. First he
wanted
to
argue about going at all and now it looked as though he didn’t want to come
out.
Adam
sighed as he put his book aside temporarily and now strode out through the
kitchen’s back door to the bath house.
Out
of courtesy for his brother, Adam knocked on the wooden door. He put his ear up to it but couldn’t hear any
sounds coming from inside. There was no
answer so he knocked again a little harder and more impatiently this time.
“Joe,
are you finished in there?” Adam asked.
The
sound of the knocking on the door and the calling out,
startled Joe awake from his fitful doze.
He looked around a little confused at first as he had done when Hoss
awoke him before dinner. Again he hadn’t
even realised that he had fallen asleep. Better not tell Adam he had fallen
asleep in the tub, he reminded himself.
“Almost,”
came the reply a few seconds later. Adam could now hear the sound of sloshing
water as Joe scrambled out of the tub and grabbed a towel to dry himself.
“Want
some help?” Adam now asked and attempted to open the door.
Joe
gasped in alarm as he saw the handle turn and the door open slightly. He jumped up against the door and used all
of his weight behind it to stop his brother from opening the door any further.
“No
Adam, don’t come in,” Joe said “I’ll be out in a minute.” he added,
trying to hold the door against Adam and trying to prevent the towel around his
waist from falling to the floor with the other hand. He couldn’t risk Adam coming in and seeing
the marks from the teacher.
“Okay
okay, just hurry up so others can have a bath too,”
Adam said a little annoyed at Joe’s sudden display of independence. He knew there would come a day when Little
Joe got embarrassed about being naked in front of his brothers, but at seven
years old, he thought he had at least another 4 or 5 years before that started.
As
Joe heard the sound of Adam’s retreating footsteps, he released his weight
against the door and let out the breath that he had been holding in.
A
few minutes later, Joe emerged through the kitchen into the living room, fully
dressed but when wet curls hanging over his forehead. A towel was still hanging over one
shoulder to catch the drops of water from his hair.
“Do you want to wrap your arm back up
tonight?” he added, remembering to keep a check on the burn from
yesterday.
“Nah,
it’s fine thanks Adam.
Doesn’t even hurt anymore and it’s better
already” Joe said holding his arm out slightly so that his brother could see
the slightly
pink
area encircling the boy’s upper arm.
“All clean little buddy?” Adam now asked casually, trying to clear
the tense air from before. He wasn’t
quite convinced that the burn was as healed as Joe said it was but from a
distance, the mark didn’t look swollen or blistered at all. He decided to take a look at it later on after
the boy was asleep to save arguments.
“Yeah
thanks, but I have got homework to do so I am going up to do that in my room.”
Joe replied using the homework that he hadn’t done the previous night.
“Homework,
on the second last day before schools ends,” Hoss stammered. “Boy that new
teacher you have must be a real tough nut Joe.”
“Yeah,
you could say that Hoss,” Joe said glumly and headed up the stairs without
getting any further into the subject.
“Maybe
that teacher has been rough on him,” Hoss remarked to Adam as he tried to
figure out the earlier question of what might be wrong with Joe.
“Maybe,”
Adam said looking up briefly from his book.
***************************************************
Joe
could relax just that little bit more now that he was in the sanctuary of his
own room. He knew that he would be able
to hear his brothers coming before they
came
into his room.
As
he lay the wet towel over the other end of the chair
beside the bed, the sight of the jacket, reminded him to pull out the note from
Mr Watson and read it.
Joe
now pulled out the small envelope with his name printed on the front. He waited until he was sitting on the bed
again before attempting to open it. He
winced again as he had temporarily forgotten about the welts on his legs and
they rubbed harshly against his trousers and the bed covers.
He
turned the envelope over in his small hands for a few minutes, thinking about
what the consequences might be once his father saw the envelope already
opened. Then again he told himself he
hadn’t fully made up his mind to give the note to his father yet. He had told Mr Watson he would but that all
depended on what the contents of the note were.
With
a audible sigh he placed a thumb under the back flap
of the envelope and then very carefully started to lift it open. If it didn’t tear too much he might be able
to
reseal or re-close it as though it hadn’t been opened at all. It didn’t take much effort to open it,
revealing the neatly folded piece of white paper inside.
As
innocent as the piece of paper might have seen from within the envelope, Little
Joe couldn’t help but swallow nervously as he used two fingers to take it out.
He
placed the now opened envelope on the bed beside him and now stared intently at
the folded paper, hoping secretly there was someway of knowing the contents
without creasing it any further.
Knowing
full well that he really couldn’t know what it said unless he unfolded it, Joe
carefully started to read the contents.
The note read as such:
Mr
Cartwright,
My
name is John Watson and I have been appointed as the replacement teacher for
the
It has
come to my attention that your son Joseph has been using his left hand to write
with. Upon approaching your son about
this subject he informs me that this inappropriate method of writing has been
allowed to continue for quite a considerable time.
My duty
as a teacher has lead me to write this letter to inform you that if Joseph
continues to use his improper hand then he will soon sadly lag behind the rest
of his classmates. He will not be able
to successfully complete his studies to an acceptable standard and his
education as a whole will suffer greatly.
I
write to you as his father in the hope that you will be able to point out to
him why this practice has to cease immediately. I see it as your duty as a parent and
guardian to ensure that he changes his habits to enable him to be regarded as a
successful student.
I must
point out that Joseph’s behaviour during my appointment has been most
disturbing of late. The boy doesn’t seem
to be able to follow the simplest of instructions and is very disruptive to the
rest of the class room.
I
demand to see a dramatic improvement in your son’s behaviour within a very
short period of time or I will be forced to take drastic measures of my own to
ensure that he is more obedience and respectful.
Yours
sincerely
John
Watson
Teacher
Joe’s
bottom lip began to tremble as he read the last paragraph of the letter. How
could he show such words to his father and not expect him to believe
every
word that Mr Watson had written about him?
The
seed of self doubt had begun to grow inside Joe’s mind again, leaving him with
very little self confidence. With a
heavy heart about what the teacher
thought of him, Joe folded the letter back up again and
placed it back inside the envelope. He
then placed the envelope in the pocket of his jacket again.
The
little boy cuddled into his toy bear Bo and laid down on his pillow, his face
turned away from the doorway in case somebody came in and saw the tears
falling down his cheeks.
His
mother Marie had taught him to write when he was very small. He had always used his left hand. She had never gotten mad at him or told him
it was wrong.
Why
was everybody telling him now it was wrong?
Why was it wrong?
Joe
told himself that he didn’t feel any different to the rest of this family
because he wrote with the opposite hand.
He didn’t fall behind any of his class mates now because he wrote his
work using his left hand.
The
worries of the day soon caught up with the boy and the heaviness in his heart
remained as his eyelids slid closed and his breathing evened out as he fell
asleep.
****************************************************
It
was only about half an hour after Joe went to sleep in his room, that Ben
Cartwright opened the front door to the house and walked in.
He
looked over at the living room as he removed his hat and gun belt and placed
them on the credenza.
“Hello
boys,” Ben said again looking over at his sons, but this time noticing the
youngest boy was missing from the room.
“Where’s Little Joe?”
“Said
he had some homework to do and went to his room a little while ago Pa,” Hoss
answered.
“He
actually offered to do his homework tonight Hoss?” Ben said with a little
surprise in his voice. It wasn’t very
often that Joe actually volunteered to do homework. This admittance by his middle son prompted
Ben to think that more had occurred tonight than he was being told.
“Yeah
Pa, but he was soughta moody all night. Hardly spoke to Adam and me and when he did
he got in a huff,” Hoss said with downcast eyes.
“Moved
around a lot at the table is what I remember,” Adam chose to add.
“Why
was he moving around at the table Adam?” Ben now found himself asking. Getting any sort of coherent explanation from
any of his sons was proving more
of
a chore than he would have liked.
Unfortunately all of his sons had become quite adept at it, even Joseph
who was only seven years old.
“Said
his saddle was chafing his legs Pa” Adam replied, “I have already offered to take
a look at it after school tomorrow” he quickly added noting the smile on
his
father’s face at his offer of help.
“Thanks
son,” Ben replied. Hop Sing was now
placing his boss’s evening meal on the dining room table. Ben went over towards the table, looking as
though
he
was about to sit down. Sure enough though his eyes drifted towards the stairs and the
doorway at the end of the hallway.
Ben
sighed loudly to himself and knew that he was in no mood for eating until he
went up to talk to his youngest son about his avoidance of his brothers earlier
in
the evening.
Hop
Sing began mumbling to himself about why he bothered cooking meals for such an
unappreciative family. But by the time
the little Cantonese man had reached
the
doorway to the kitchen, he watched Ben climb the stairs with a smile on his
face knowing that he would put things right with the youngest Cartwright.
Ben
briefly knocked on Joe’s bedroom door when he got to the top of the stairs. He
waited a few seconds and like Adam, knocked a second time and waited for a
response before turning the door handle and walking inside.
When
he entered the room, Ben soon saw why his knock at the door hadn’t been
answered. He could see Joe laying on his side on the bed, his face turned away
from
the door. As he walked closer, quietly
so as not to wake the sleeping child, Ben found himself gazing down at Joe as
he slept, unaware of his visitor.
It
concerned Ben that Joe had gone to bed reasonably early two nights in a row. He
knew the extra sleep wasn’t a problem, but Joe was not normally a boy who
went
to bed early.
Normally
he would fall asleep on the couch downstairs trying to keep up his two older
brothers before being chased upstairs and having a story read before being
tucked in, usually by Ben himself or Adam.
Ben
was tempted for a moment to wake his son and try and find out what was
bothering him. He decided against it
and thought it best to wait until morning.
He
now picked up the covers on Joe’s bed and was about to drape them across the
boy to keep him warm when he noticed that his son was still wearing trousers.
Adam
had told him about having a bath and Joe’s efforts to be independent, but he
hadn’t changed into a night shirt.
Ben
bent down and was about to start undressing his son for bed. Unknowingly he had placed his hand on the
back of Joe’s right thigh, across the welt marks that Mr Watson had caused.
The
action reignited the ache that had been there earlier, and although he didn’t
wake fully, Joe began to moan slightly at the pain he did feel. Ben withdrew his hand, afraid that the child
would wake fully and then have trouble sending him back to sleep.
Ben
now reminded himself about the burn on Joe’s arm and he now moved to take off
the boy’s shirt so that he could take a look at the healing injury. This
too
proved to be easier said then done as the boy swatted Ben’s hand away at the
gentle jostling he was receiving.
Ben
tried a second time to try and get the boy into a night shirt, but the reaction
and the mumbling at the pain had been the same. For one night he decided that it was okay
for the boy to remain in his trousers.
He would have a talk with Joe in the morning about remembering to change
in to a night shirt before going to bed in future.
“Goodnight
son” Ben said as he gently caressed the boy’s forehead. He truly hoped that Joe would open up to him
about what was causing him to feel so sad at the moment. He remembered overhearing Joe say that he
wanted someone to play with but with all the action that had happened since
then, he thought that problem may have worked itself
out.
At
least with the timber yard back on track to a certain degree, he could devote a
few days over the school holidays to his son after he came home from school
tomorrow. He might be able to organize a
short camping trip with the whole family for Joe to try and pluck up his
spirits. Hopefully in a few days Joe
would be back to his happy, energetic self without a care in the world.
Ben
now came downstairs to the curious looks of both Adam and Hoss.
“He’s
asleep,” he said to their questioning glances and noting the brief time Ben had
been in Little Joe’s room. “He went to
sleep in his clothes but it was going to
disturb him too much to try and change him into a night
shirt.”
Adam
and Hoss both nodded at their father’s comments and knew what trouble their
father would have been in for if the boy was disturbed after he had fallen
asleep. It would be a rather worse episode of when Hoss went to wake the
youngster on a school morning. Not
something to look forward to at all.
“Can
I get something hot to eat now please Hop Sing?” Ben asked kindly, tired and
worn out from a long day. But to his
dismay the little Cantonese man went back into his kitchen to reheat Ben’s
dinner, clashing pans and pots as he went.
Adam and Hoss had to hold back their mirth to just wide grins at the
cook’s antics.
****************************************************
CHAPTER
EIGHT
The
next morning, surprisingly Little Joe awoke before Hoss came in and yanked the
blankets off him. He laid
in his bed for a moment, enjoying the silence
and
the solitude before attempting to stretch some of the tiredness out of his
muscles.
Joe
noticed that his thighs weren’t as sore this morning as they had been the day
before. He got up off the bed and let
his trousers fall to the floor. With an
awkward turn of his head over the back of his shoulder, he tried to get a
glance at the welts and see if there was any noticeable healing.
To
his relief, the welt themselves were gone this morning. There were faint outlines of bruises where
the horizontal red marks had been but other than that, his skin was devoid of
any other injury from the previous day’s events.
Joe had heard somebody climbing the stairs and
quickly re-buttoned his trousers before the person reached the door. By the sound of the heavy foot-steps, he
picked the person on the stairs to be his father this morning rather than Hoss.
Joe
quickly filled the basin on his bedside table with water from a jug and
submerged his hands into the cool liquid just as Ben opened the door to greet
his son.
“Well,
I must say this is a pleasant surprise Joseph,” Ben said with a genuine smile
on his face. Maybe his son was trying to
amend his normal morning ritual of being dragged out of bed.
“Morning
Pa,” Joe replied, giving his father a flashy smile before resuming his pretence
of washing his face and hands. “I will
be down to breakfast in a minute.”
Ben
took note of the boy’s mood and noted it to be decidedly more cheerful this
morning than Adam or Hoss had hinted at last night when he arrived home. Maybe the boy had just had a bad afternoon
and a good night’s sleep had done it’s job of
replenishing the boy’s youthful outlook.
“See
you downstairs then Joe, after you have changed your clothes of course,” Ben
said, making sure that his son understood about the habit of sleeping in his
clothes at night.
“Sorry
Pa, guess I was just over-tired last night.
I will change before breakfast,” Joe replied.
Ben
left the bedroom so that his son could get changed. He hoped that the boy’s pleasant manner
would continue throughout the rest of the day and certainly through the school
holidays that were upon them already.
After
Ben had left, Joe had started to change into fresh clothes as he said he would.
But after seeing the slight bruising on the back of his legs again his thoughts
quickly turned to the schoolhouse and what might be in store for him today.
As
he changed clothes, he seriously thought about feigning illness to avoid going
to school on the last day. But given
that his father had already seen him once this
morning with very little indication that he was sick, he
didn’t think that would work in his favour.
Then
Joe thought to himself about all of the things Mr Watson had said about him.
The note he had read last night, the jibes in class about him not paying
attention and him being called a troublemaker.
Joe felt as though he was being constantly picked on and harassed by
this teacher.
If
he didn’t turn up at school today, then Mr Watson would think he had won the
battle. He would say that Joe
Cartwright couldn’t face the man after receiving the
unnecessary punishment and rough handling of the last two
days. He couldn’t let the teacher
think that he had bullied the boy into submissiveness.
If
the teacher tried to tighten his grip to prevent the young man from getting out
of line, Joe decided to actively challenge the man and show him that he wasn’t
going to be threatened by anybody.
Joe
finished dressing and ran a comb through his unruly curls once before heading
out his bedroom door down to the breakfast table.
“Took
your time didn’t you son,” Ben commented as he noticed a full ten minutes had
expired since his son said he would join the family for breakfast.
“And
even then he couldn’t be bothered combing his hair properly,” Adam said as he
spied the untamed locks over the boy’s forehead. He knew as well as any
of
the family that Joe’s hair was hard to maintain at any given time but he
thought he would try and keep his brother in the good mood his father told them
Joe had
woken
in.
“Tis
too combed properly Adam,” Joe said with a scowl on his face before quickly
shoving a buttered piece of toast into his mouth. He hadn’t even sat down at the
table
properly yet.
“Joseph
will you please sit down before you eat,” Ben said, trying not to sound
impatient first thing in the morning.
“Sure
Pa,” Joe replied innocently before turning to Adam when he thought his father
wasn’t looking and giving him a second frown at the comments about his hair.
“What
have you got planned for the school holidays Joe?” Ben now asked, hoping to
gain a little inside information about his son’s plans before springing the
surprise of the camping trip on him later that night.
“Nothin
much Pa, probably go fishing with Johnny or something,” Joe said, having not
really given it much thought until his father asked just now.
“Well
then, you had better get started to school then if you want the day to be
over,” Ben now said with a grin. He
knew that Joe would probably think the whole day was going to drag with the
holidays coming.
“See
you later Pa,” Joe said as he gave his father a brief embrace once he scrambled
from the table. Hop Sing was standing
only a few metres away with his lunch satchel in his hand.
“Boy
make sure eat lunch today, not eat lunch two day now,
Hop Sing not make lunch not to eat.” the cook said in a friendly way. He was a little concerned though that Joe’s
lunch hadn’t been touched for two days in a row.
Hop
Sing tried to put things in there today that he knew the boy liked and hoped
would eat. At least with the holidays
coming, he would be able to monitor what the boy was eating during the middle
of the day a little better.
“Yeah
Hop Sing,” Joe promised briefly glancing back at his father, hoping Ben hadn’t
heard too much about him not eating at lunch time.
“Bye
Hoss and Adam, see you when I come home,” Joe said as
he scurried out the door towards the barn to saddle his horse Blackie.
“Bye
Short Shanks,” Hoss tried to say to his brother, but by the time he had
completed the sentence, the doorway was empty and Hoss was talking to thin air.
At
least Joe hadn’t commented about him being allowed to stay home again today.
Bye Joe Adam thought to himself knowing that the boy was just
full of energy. Adam didn’t reply to his brother’s words but smiled to himself as
he sipped at the
remainder of his coffee.
****************************************************
On the way to school, Joe told himself that he
would try and comply with whatever Mr Watson wanted today just to get through
the day. After today, the teacher would
be gone and after the school holiday’s break Miss Jones would be back and
things would be a lot better. He just
had to manage to get through this one more day and then he would have the
entire school holidays to forget all about Mr Watson.
John
Watson had left his hotel room early that morning, about the same time as
Little Joe was leaving home. He
intended to purchase his ticket for the evening
stage
and be on it as soon as it departed this afternoon.
With
all he had been made to endure with teaching in an environment and school he
believed beneath his capabilities, he planned to be out of
As
he arrived at the school house he noticed the Cartwright boy had also just
arrived and was still unsaddling and tending to his horse in the school stable.
The
boy seemed to be laughing and joking with another boy Tommy Wilkins. Watson frowned at the two boys. He didn’t think either of them had anything
to laugh about. Neither of them had been
paying attention in school.
Watson
recalled the events of the previous day and wondered if the Cartwright boy had
gone home and told his family what had happened.
With
no sign of any family or adults waiting out the classroom, Watson assumed that
the Joe had not breathed a word to anyone.
He couldn’t see the Scott boy for the time being and so it was only
Joe’s word against his at the moment with nobody else in sight to back him
up.
Even
if they decided to tell their families after school today, Watson would be on
the stage by the time their families knew and wouldn’t be reachable by any of
them or answerable to any demanding questions about his harsh teaching methods.
Precisely
at
For
the second time in as many days, Joseph Cartwright was the last student to
enter the building. Joe never spoke to
the teacher and Watson didn’t utter a word to the boy, but both had looked at
each other as they passed.
Watson’s
eyes had been hard and cold as Joe looked at the teacher. When Watson stared back into the boy’s
emerald green eyes, he thought he saw a hint of fear but there also looked to
be a sparkle of defiance there as well.
The teacher was determined to make sure that any sign of rebellion was
quickly thwarted.
Joe
took his place as his desk and tried his best to ignore the stares from the
teacher. Although he was sure that the man’s eyes were boring into the back of
his skull.
Joe
decided to try and forget all that had happened and just try and get through
the day as best he could without riling Mr Watson. Once the day was over, the holidays would
begin and he would be able to relax just a little easier.
Joe
had noticed the absence of his friend Johnny Scott this morning. Johnny hadn’t mentioned anything about
feeling sick the day before and he couldn’t think of any other genuine reason
for his friend missing school. Maybe
he was required to stay home and help his father at their ranch.
He
was totally unaware that his friend Johnny had seen and heard every words of
the conversation that had taken place between him and Mr Watson. He didn’t know that Johnny had seen the
beating with the ruler or that the teacher had noticed Johnny’s presence.
For
the next half hour, Joe tried his hardest to bend to the teacher’s rules and
listen to any instructions very carefully.
He even attempted to write with his right hand as awkward as it was.
Normally
when Joe wrote with his left hand, he was easily able to turn his work on an
angle to improve his wrist position.
When he tried to write with his right hand
like
the teacher wanted him to, he found it increasingly difficult even to grip the
pencil with his fingers enough to be able to make any mark on the paper.
Watson
had been watching Joe with his efforts to right with his right hand and smiled
to himself as he thought his threats and caning had done it’s
job. The next action the child did
though made him see red. He also
believed that the child had only been pretending to trying to follow the rules
and instructions as given.
The
child was trying to mock him in his own classroom Watson told himself. Something which he wouldn’t
tolerate under any circumstances and certainly not in front of a room full of
seven and eight year olds.
Joe
had been trying to do his lessons and was not watching Watson’s face to notice
in facial colour. He had briefly put
the pencil back on his desk and tried to rub
some
of the cramping out of his hand from writing at such an awkward new angle.
When
he went to resume his work, Joe didn’t realise that his brain had automatically
reminded him to pick up the pencil in his left hand and proceed to write with
it.
Writing
with his left hand had been so natural for Joe over a few years and he didn’t
even realise what he had done.
While
the rest of the students had been doing their own work, Watson was determined
to make an example out of this child in front of the whole classroom. He had tried to chastise the boy by sending
notes home to his father. The boy
hadn’t even given such a note to his father to read.
When
that didn’t seem to have worked and he had felt it necessary to discipline the
child after school when the inappropriate behaviour had continued unchanged yet
again. Now the boy was openly defying
him again after such disciplinary action had been taken. It was time to teach the boy a lesson in
front of his class mates.
Watson
had walked around to his desk and pulled out the ruler that he had used on the
back of the boy’s legs the previous day.
He now held it to the side so as not to draw attention to himself or
what he actually intended to do. A few
of the other student looked up and saw him walking through the rows of desks,
but a quick frown from the teacher saw them studiously put their heads back
down towards their own desks.
“What
do you think you are doing Mr Cartwright?” Watson now barked as he stood in an
imposing stance over the desk of Little Joe.
Joe
had been concentrating on the maths problems in front of him and had not heard
the teacher’s approaching footsteps. It
was at the shouting voice of Mr Watson that Joe was startled and jumped
slightly in his chair.
Joe
found himself trying to regain his composure and swallowing in fear slightly
before answering the teacher’s question.
Watson
saw this as another act of defiance.
“ANSWER ME” he said through clenched teeth as he tried to reign in the anger
he felt at such a disobedient child.
“I
was doing my work Sir,” Joe said in a small voice, moving away from the teacher
slightly as he remained in his seat. It
was only now that the boy noticed that the
pencil was clasped in his left hand and he now looked back up at the
teacher, knowing that this is why the teacher looked so angry at the moment.
“Doing
your work Mr Cartwright, with your left hand,” Watson shouted. By now most of the other children were
looking on at the scene being played out in front of them.
Before
Joe or any of them could react, Watson due his hand up and brought down the
implement in his hand. Joe’s left-hand
had been resting on the desk innocently enough, but the ruler in Watson’s hand now
came down on the boy’s wrist with considerable force. Joe was forced to release his grip on the
pencil as
his
cry of pain rang out through the classroom.
Tears
were now spilling down Little Joe’s cheeks as he got out of his chair and began
backing away from the angry teacher towards the front of the room. His wrist was carefully being held against
his chest and nursed protectively by his other hand.
Some
of the other children in the room had let out a cry of fear as they saw what
the teacher done to Joe and as they now gazed upon their frightened and injured
friend. None of them could scarcely believe what they
had just seen Mr Watson do.
Watson
himself was now standing with a shocked expression on his face with the ruler
clearly visible to all the students. He
had meant to strike the child but not as
hard
as had occurred. He didn’t know what
was going to happen to him once word got around about what he did, but at the
moment all he could do stand fixated to the one spot.
Without
so much as a word, Joe Cartwright now escaped to the outside of the class room
and stumbled along the pathway to the front gate. Tears were still spilling
down
his cheeks.
When
he first reached the fence he was a little dazed and confused with the pain
from his wrist and unsure of what direction to take. He had temporarily forgotten about his
As
the pain in his wrist spiked again, his mind told him that he should be seeking
help for his arm. The next person he
thought of was Doctor Paul Martin, whose
office was only a short walk from the school in
Back
at the school house, the rest of Joe’s class mates were now huddling together
in a small group in a corner of the class room away from the teacher Mr
Watson. Some of the smaller girls were
at the back and crying, the boys were at the front trying to act as brave as
they dared. Most of them were wondering
where poor Little Joe was. The hoped
somebody would come along and get them away from this monster before too long.
As
his friends wondered where he was, Little Joe was half-running, half-walking
along the main street of
As
it turned out, Paul Martin was on his own in his surgery when he heard the
front door open. He had been completing
some paper work and trying to catch up on reading some new medical newsletters
from back east. He was curious to
know who it was at his door because he didn’t remember having any scheduled
appointments until later on that afternoon.
Paul
had only just reached the doorway to his office when he was met by a very
distraught Joe Cartwright.
“Doc………
you gotta help me please!!!”, the boy pleaded as he
tried to grab a hold of Paul’s jacket with his right hand. His left hand remained instinctively held
curled against his chest in a protective position. Tears were still streaming down the young
boy’s face and he was trying to catch his breath from the running he had just
done in getting to Paul.
“Slow
down Little Joe,” Paul said, putting a reassuring and comfortable arm around
the boy as he led him into his treatment room.
It hadn’t taken but a moment’s glance to recognize the curly head that
was resting against him. “Tell me what’s the matter son.” he added, trying to give a skilful
look over the lad in search of the boy’s distress.
The
added tension of trying to tell the doctor what was wrong with him though and
what the teacher had done, only seemed to make the child’s distress even worse.
Joe
now sobbed into the sleeve of Paul’s jacket, unable to put the words together
to describe his ordeal.
“He
hit me,” was the only words that Paul could honestly work out and even they
were sketchy at best. Paul didn’t know
who Joe meant by “him”. Maybe Joe had
been in a schoolyard fight with one of the older boys.
Paul
now turned his attention to Joe’s injury, knowing that the boy wouldn’t have
sought the safety of his clinic unless he was truly hurting. Very gently the doctor
tried
to pry Joe’s left hand away from the boy’s chest. From a distance he could see various stages
of discolouration and swelling present around the boy’s wrist.
“No,”
Joe cried through his sobs as soon as he felt his hand being moved. His mind was too concerned with the pain and
the other things that had happened to identify who it was that was touching
him.
Paul
loathed to make the child’s distress even more so and
made every effort to be as gentle as possible, he pulled Joe away from himself
and sat the child on an bed for examination.
He briefly left the boy along to get a soft damp cloth and a small
bottle of medicine.
Joe
was still sniffling and attempting to wipe his tears away as he watched the
doctor, but he was now becoming more wary of the man as he saw the medicine
bottle. He saw the doctor pour water
into a small glass and take a small copper spoon out of a drawer nearby.
Doc
Martin now poured a small amount of medicine from the bottle on the spoon and
walked towards Joe with it. He held it
out towards the boy together with the glass of water.
“It
will help it stop hurting Little Joe” Paul said in a soothing voice, trying to
get the child to calm down even more.
Secretly Paul was trying to work out a way to get word to the boy’s
family but was worried about leaving the child alone for too long.
Joe
winced again as he unconsciously moved his injured wrist. With the pain echoing in his arm, he now
looked towards the medicine on the spoon.
Without another word he took the spoon from the doctor and swallowed the
thick syrup and quickly washed it down with the glass of water. He scrunched his face up with the taste.
“Now
you just lay back and rest for a minute while I get the other things I need to
take a look at your wrist,” Paul suggested, placing a small pillow at the head
of the bed behind Joe. He knew that
the boy would soon be feeling the drowsy effects of the medicine.
“I
want my Pa,” Joe said on the verge of tears again as he waited for the pain in
his arm to ease. Wearily he laid down on the pillow like the doctor asked but his mind
was full of questions.
“I
know you do son and I promise I will get him for you just as soon as I can,”
Paul said trying to comfort the child.
“You just rest and leave everything to me.”
Now
that Paul saw the child laying back on the bed he
thought he had enough time to find the medical supplies he needed to examine
Joe’s injured wrist. He didn’t
know
what had caused the injury, but concerned by the swelling and bruising thought
it best to assume the worst and splint the wrist as soon as possible to prevent
any further pain for the boy.
The
medicine was now beginning to make the boy very sleepy and his eyes were
starting to droop. His mind however
was still rather alert. He had remembered
asking the doctor about getting his father, but couldn’t quite remember getting
a reply to his request.
Little
Joe’s mind told him that if the doctor was too busy at the moment, then he
would be okay to make it home on his own.
His horse was still at the school and
the
pain was now numbing in his wrist. He
told himself that he would be able to manage to ride home to his father so that
the doctor didn’t have to worry about
bringing his father to town.
With
the little confidence that the relaxation provided, Joe very quickly and
quietly got off the bed and walked over to the door. His steps were a little unsteady
at
first due to the medicine, but he made it to the door before Paul had even
noticed.
Joe
now walked out the doctor’s door into the bright sunshine of the morning. He
squinted his eyes at the brightness and made sure of the direction he intended
to
travel before walking slowly along the street.
His
confused sense of direction though had led him in the opposite direction, away
from the doctor’s office towards the livery stable. A few people noticed
the
boy walking but didn’t think it unusual at this time of day. They paid him no heed as Joe made his way
further away from his family, still holding his wrist
protectively against him.
**********************************************
back at the Ponderosa:
Ben
was about to attend to some of the paperwork that had troubled Adam later that
morning when there was a knock at the front door.
Adam
and Hoss had finished their breakfast and were about to leave to do their
various tasks for the day when they too wondered who would be visiting the
household this early in the morning.
Maybe
it was Joe coming back after he had forgotten his school books or something
they thought.
“Good
Morning Sir,” Ben greeted the stranger on the other side of the door. He looked down and saw a boy about Joe’s age
with him.
“Johnny,”
Hoss exclaimed as he recognised the youngster standing at the door. He didn’t know who the man was but assumed it
to be the boy’s father.
“Hello
Hoss, this is my dad Richard Scott,” the boy said, introducing his father to
the three older Cartwrights.
“Excuse
my poor manners, Mr Scott is it?” Ben said, feeling a
little embarrassed that he didn’t know who they were.
“Come
in won’t you Mr Scott,” Adam now asked and motioned for them to enter the
house.
“Thank
you Mr Cartwright,” Richard Scott said as he removed his hat and walked into
the spacious living room.
“Ben
please,” the patriarch said.
“What
brings you out here Mr Scott?” Hoss asked, a little curious to know why Johnny
wasn’t in school with his brother Joe.
“I
don’t know how to tell you folks this, Johnny hasn’t told me a great deal about
you yet but I have heard what a caring family you were in town,” Scott said, a
little
nervous because of his newness to
“Johnny
was supposed to go to school this morning like always,” Richard began,
answering the unasked question that he saw written on Hoss. “But he refused to go and when I asked him
why he said because he was afraid of the teacher Mr Watson.”
“Afraid
of the teacher,” Ben repeated, a little confused by the conversation. Johnny’s teacher would also be Joe’s teacher
and he couldn’t remember his son telling him anything about being frightened of
the man. Joe had left for school this
morning without any noticeable refusal or complaint.
“Would
you like to tell me what’s been happening at school Johnny?” Ben said in a gentle
voice, noticing the boy becoming more and more withdrawn about the subject.
Johnny
now looked around the room and was looking for Joe, hoping that his friend had
successfully convinced his family to stay home or at least had told them about
what he had seen yesterday. “Where’s
Joe?” the boy asked plainly as he and his father took a seat on the settee.
“Joe
went to school this morning Johnny,” Ben said as he felt a feeling of dread
begin to wrap itself around his heart.
Why would this boy not want Joe to go to
school?
“Oh
Mr Cartwright, you have to go after him and make sure he’s okay,” Johnny said
barely able to hold back his emotions and letting tears of his own run down
his
face. He was truly afraid for his
friend’s well-being.
“Why
are you so afraid of the teacher Johnny?” Ben tried to ask calmly. His own concerns were beginning to mount by
the second but he needed to get the full
story
before knowing why he had to worry about Joe at school.
Johnny
looked a little confused when Ben asked this question, “Didn’t he tell you what
happened when he came home yesterday?” he asked, thinking that Joe would have
said something to his family.
“Tell
us what?” Adam now said impatiently, not trying to frighten Joe’s friend but
more out of his own concern for his brother.
He could see the same concern reflected on the faces of his father and
brother. He hadn’t noticed anything
out of the ordinary when Joe arrived home yesterday and Joe hadn’t said
anything happened. Adam was now looking
at Hoss for an answer.
“Joe
didn’t tell me anything when I went to collect him yesterday afternoon,” Hoss
said in his own defence. “Was a little
moody but I thought he was mad at me for
being
late to pick him up.”
“Mr
Watson has been mean to Joe since he got here Mr Cartwright,” Johnny explained
to Ben. He made Joe stay in at lunch
time without eating his lunch and forced him to write with his left hand.”
“He
did what?” Ben said as he felt his anger rising at hearing of his son’s unfair
treatment.
“That’s
not the worst of it though,” Johnny added trying to continue so that Joe’s
family would know why he was so worried about his friend. “Yesterday, Joe
was
missing from the classroom after lunch.
I asked the teacher where he was and he said that Joe was sick and went
to the doctor’s and was then coming home.”
“Joe
didn’t complain about feeling sick yesterday Johnny,” Hoss interrupted before
the boy finished.
“Yes
I know, but I saw Joe in Mr Watson’s class after school yesterday. I don’t know where Joe was for the rest of
the time. I snuck up beside the stairs
where
I
thought they couldn’t see me. Mr Watson
had some sort of ruler in his hand. When he didn’t think anybody else was
watching I saw him hit Joe with the
ruler. And he hit him again.” Johnny added, saying
how Joe was hit more than once.
“The
teacher hit Joe,” Ben said with his anger boiling over that somebody else had
laid a harsh hand on his child. Also
concern that Joe might have been injured
and
not told anybody.
“Sorry
Hoss that I didn’t tell you yesterday. I
was just too scared. He did see me
there and he threatened to do the same to me if I breathed a word to anybody”
Johnny
said but was truly ashamed of his cowardly actions.
“I
don’t blame you Johnny,” Hoss said as he let the younger boy know that he
understood why he had been secretive until know. It also explained why the
boy
was acting so out of character at the school house yesterday when he arrived to
collect Joe.
“Now
you know why I brought Johnny here this morning Ben,” Richard Scott
interjected, noting the Cartwright’s reaction to the news about their youngest
member.
“So
that’s why he was moving about in his saddle so much,” Hoss said out loud as he
recalled Joe using another excuse. “ And at the dinner table last night Adam.” he added
sadly.
“That’s
why he couldn’t sit still and I didn’t even know,” Adam said as the guilt began
to take hold of him. Why hadn’t he
noticed the signs that anything had been
wrong
with his brother? Why hadn’t he noticed
that Joe was hurting?
Adam
now told his father about the table incident and about how he suspected that’s
why Joe hadn’t wanted anybody to walk in on him in the bath house.
Ben’s
heart fell heavy as he realized that Joe had gone through all of this on his
own. Thinking that his family didn’t want to know or couldn’t know, he wasn’t
sure which. They had to go to the school and make sure that Joe was alright, then he would deal with his so-called teacher and his
treatment of Joe.
Adam
now knelt in front of the boy, knowing what he was about to do might be
difficult for Johnny. “Do you think you
could come with us Johnny and tell Sheriff
Coffee
what you just told us?”
“If
that’s alright with you Richard,” Ben added, making sure that the boy’s father
was comfortable with what they were asking Joe’s friend to do.
“Johnny
and I will do anything to help Ben. I
just hope your boy is alright,” Scott replied. The boy nodded his head in acknowledgement
of his willingness to
help
out his best friend. He really didn’t
want to see any more bad things happen to Joe at the hands of Mr Watson.
“So
do I Richard, so do I,” Ben said as he strapped on his gun-belt and grabbed his
hat from the peg behind the front door.
“Time
to go teach a lesson of our own to a certain teacher Mr Watson,” Adam said as
he strapped on his own gun-belt and prepared to face the man who had
tormented his little brother.
“Get
those horses saddled boys, we are going after your brother,” Ben said in a
no-nonsense tone of voice.
TO BE CONTINUED
LET’S RIDE – GO GET HIM BEN AND BOYS…………………
TO BE CONTINUED (Yeah I know – you are all
going to chase after me for leaving you hanging again.
And what has happened to our poor Little
Joe? Where did he go?..........................
Hope you will keep reading – thanks JULES