The Ranch House
The blonde and the redhead sat on the sofa, surveying their surroundings
with interest. Between them, a small shaggy bear was playing with his toes
and snuffling quietly. Ben glared meaningfully at first Adam, then Hoss, but
both men refused to meet his gaze. Eventually, he could stand it no longer.
“Why do you have a bear with you?” he asked, in patient tones, developed
over the many stressful years of bringing up three sons.
“That’s Paw. He’s a sun bear,” Joe said helpfully.
“Isn’t it a bit confusing to have a bear called Paw in the same house as
our own Pa?” Adam said hesitantly.
The redhead patted Paw gently. “Not if you’re Scottish. Entirely different
vowel sounds. Anyway, it’s not half as confusing as this house, is it?”
The four Cartwrights exchanged startled looks and the blonde smiled at their
confusion.
“I suppose it all seems quite normal to you, but to an outsider, nothing
is quite what it seems, is it? Take the staircase for example. What’s that
funny bit down the side of it all about? I mean, one moment it’s there, the
next it’s gone. And even when it is there, the gap’s too narrow to be of any
practical use. Must be a real dust trap.”
Ben nodded in agreement. He noticed that only this morning and he made a
mental note to have a little word with Hop Sing. Joe picked up an apple from
the bowl on the table and tossed it to Paw, who caught it nimbly and began
crunching away with evident delight.
The redhead took up the tale. “Then there’s the mystery of the wall that
isn’t there.” Four dumbfounded looks greeted this pronouncement, so she walked
over to the front door to demonstrate.
“In the interior shots, you can see quite clearly that from the front door
there’s an uninterrupted view to the living area and the fireplace. But, and
here’s where the mystery comes in, when the view switches to an exterior shot,
this white washed wall suddenly appears. Very strange indeed.”
“Yes,” continued the blonde. “And that wall has a painting on it, and there’s
usually a blue leather chair sitting in the corner, roughly about here.” The
blonde pointed.
“You know, the girls may have a point there,” Adam said, thoughtfully. “I
remember, in First Born, when Joe came home from town all beaten and bloody,
we had to dodge round that stupid chair as we carried him inside.”
“Slung between the four of you like a sack of tatties,” the redhead said,
scathingly. “You had no idea what was wrong with him, and you picked him up,
one at each limb. Huh!”
The Cartwrights looked a bit sheepish at this, as well they might. None
of them had ever done a first aid course, so didn’t know about the dangers
of moving people before they had been checked over. And the person who seemed
to suffer this indignity most was Joe! Good thing he was resilient.
“And as for the downstairs bedroom,” the redhead said. “Well, its got more
shapes to it than the Tardis has!”
Naturally this didn’t make any sense to the family, but they were too polite
to say so. The blonde debated about trying to explain about Doctor Who and
the Tardis, but it was too weighty a task, and she discarded the notion.
“What my sister means is this,” interjected the blonde. “In Dark Star, there’s
a window there, leading to the outside, which we think really ought to open
into the kitchen. Then, in Day of the Dragon, there are doors to the porch,
which is really more of a verandah, isn’t it?”
“Hmm, those doors have really naff curtains on them, too,” the redhead agreed.
Ben was standing with his mouth open, trying to follow all this. He wondered
why he had never noticed these things before. “They look just like the ones
on the kitchen doors, which also open onto the porch. Sometimes.”
Joe pulled one of his famous faces before he took his turn. “Have you noticed
that everyone who stays in the downstairs bedroom is either a nasty piece
of work, or is about to do a runner and never be seen again?” he asked, eagerly.
Adam thought about this carefully and realised that his little brother was
right. Admitting this would be too painful, so he contented himself with a
“Mmmph,” and made a mental note never to go near the room again. Who could
tell what might happen? Why, he might even disappear from the ranch, never
to be seen or heard of again! The thought was beyond contemplation.
“Then, of course,” the blonde continued, feeding Paw a slice of bread and
jam, “there’s the elusive bunk-house. One moment it’s there, the next it isn’t.
And even when it is, why on earth would you want to build it so close to
the main house?”
No one could answer this question, but Ben Hoss and Joe all turned simultaneously
to look at Adam, who flushed dull red.
“I was a child!” he said in expiation. “Pa never should have given me that
set of drawing tools for Christmas, or at the very least employed a proper
architect to supervise things.”
“It was winter,” Ben said, stretching out his hands in supplication. “The
nights were long and cold and it was one way of keeping you out of trouble.
Things weren’t easy, you know.”
“That’s all very well,” the redhead said in tolerant tones, “But it really
doesn’t help the poor ranch hands, does it? Either they’re spirited away in
the disappearing bunkhouse for weeks on end, or else they’ve nowhere to sleep
at night. It can’t be easy for them.”
Hoss had so far been following the conversation in silence. “What’s always
puzzled me is the approach to the barn. Now that plumb ain’t right. The ways
a man’s gotta squeeze round that big ol’ bush and tree – tarnation Pa! A man
could do hisself a mischief!”
“I feel much the same way about my bed!” confessed Joe, sheepishly. “Has
no-one ever noticed how short it is? I mean, I may not be the tallest guy
in Nevada …”
“Nevada?” queried the redhead. “I thought it was filmed in California?”
Everyone ignored her, except Paw, who looked puzzled.
“… but my feet hang clear over the edge. There I was, badly maimed after
Adam shot me accidentally-on-purpose …”
“I thought you were a wolf!” Adam said, between gritted teeth.
“… and the bed’s not even long enough!” Joe gave one of his trademark smiles,
and the sisters sighed in unison.
Ben looked embarrassed. “Well,” he said, sheepishly, “we got all the beds
and the bed linen in a going-out-of-business sale. A job lot, you see. We
just took them all. They said they were double beds, but they didn’t mention
how long they were.”
“So that’s why I’ve got bows on my pillowcases,” Hoss said. “I always wondered
how come I had such girly bed linen. And I guess that’s where all them candlewicks
came from, too?”
“I’ll have you know those candlewick bedspreads are very fashionable,” Ben
said, sounding miffed.
“They’re very ugly, too,” Joe added.
“Yeah,” chimed in the redhead. “Especially when you keep tucking them up
over Joe’s gorgeous smooth, muscley bandaged chest! We want to see the boy
when he’s been maimed, and you keep covering him up!”
“Like after Adam shot me accidentally-on-purpose,” Joe said. “There I was
burning with fever, and you kept tucking me in. Didn’t you realise I was throwing
those covers off for a reason?”
“I noticed that about them bunkhouses,” Hoss said, still a few beats behind.
Luckily, his comment stopped Adam from losing his temper entirely. “Sometimes
they’s on one side o’ the house, and sometimes they’s on another.”
The redhead wiped the jam off Paw’s paws, and gave him a drink of fruit
juice. The little bear burped, and put his paw over his muzzle, smiling in
a shy, embarrassed sort of way. Hoss beamed at him. He seemed to be the only
member of the family who burped, although he harboured deep suspicions about
Pa, who slept with his window open at night. The noises you heard coming
from his room….
“And what about those trees in the front yard?” said the blonde. She opened
the door and peered out. “Look! There’s one now!” Everyone rushed over, but
by the time they got there, not only had the tree disappeared, but the window
in Ben’s study had moved from the front wall to the side wall. Just to keep
it company, the bookcase had switched places too. Even though it was mid-February,
the geraniums still bloomed bravely in their pots on the windowsill.
As they came back in, the redhead gave the coat rack a suspicious glance.
There was no way it could hold four hats and four coats. And it looked a bit
too high for Joe to reach anyway. She shook her head slowly as she caught
a glimpse of the murky oil painting on the wall. Done in various shades of
ochre and sepia, it was impossible to tell what the subject matter actually
was.
“That’s probably why they hang it out of the way, so they don’t have to
look at it too often,” she thought, joining the rest of the family round
the fireplace once more. The blonde was studying Adam intensely and he squirmed
under her velvety-brown gaze.
“That’s your chair, isn’t it?” she asked and Adam nodded, half-dreading
what might come next. “Then why is the rubbed-out bit a good foot below your
head? And have you ever considered investing in some antimacassars – they’re
jolly useful!”
Hop Sing came shuffling through from the kitchen. “Have you never wondered
what I do during my time off?” he enquired in Oxford-accented English. Before
anyone could comment on this, he continued. “Does anyone ask what I do when
I’m not cooking or looking over the family? Do I have a sitting room or even
an armchair? No-one knows and no-one even asks!”
The Cartwrights exchanged guilty looks: they had just accepted that Hop
Sing would always be there to attend to all their needs. In many ways, the
situation was similar to that of the ranch hands: one moment there would
be a someone to hand your horse to, the next there was no one to be seen.
Of course, they might all be in the bunkhouse when it disappeared …
Ben leant back in his chair, steepled his fingers and smiled benevolently
at everyone. “Well, now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll go and have a little
word with Continuity …”
Joe interrupted him. “Continuity? We’ve got Continuity?”
Ben gave him a steely glare and continued. “You girls might have noticed
these things, but I can assure you, the viewers never will!”
The End
Giggly Sisters Productions
February 2003
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