Cartwrights, Calamities and a Cat, Oh
My
Written by: Starlite
Groaning aloud, Adam Cartwright rolled over and attempted to shield his
eyes with his right hand from the bright morning light streaming in from
the window. Normally he was up with the sun, but after last night he just
wanted to bury his head in the pillow and hope that the world would just
go away. Suddenly he found himself being roughly shaken by his shoulder
and looked up into the broadly grinning face of his baby brother.
"Pa sent me to fetcha for breakfast"
Figures Adam thought; his father sure had a wicked sense of irony.
Normally it was Little Joe who was the last to appear for the morning meal.
Adam gave his brother a sick smile and a dirty look before intoning, "Alright,
alright." Then making a dismissive motion, Adam indicated it was time
for Joe to depart his room, which his little brother was more than happy to
accommodate laughing all the way.
Realizing that he was only prolonging the inevitable, Adam Cartwright gave
one more, loud groan before pulling himself into a sitting position on the
edge of the bed.
Why did I let them talk me into that one! Adam mentally chastised
himself while his temples throbbed to the beat of some unattainable drummer
located somewhere within the confines of his head. Normally, Adam would
only follow his brothers to watch and enjoy their schemes unravel before
him like a Roman comedy. But on occasion he found himself drawn into
the play, and more often than not, he ended up on the receiving end of a
tragedy of errors. Last night was no exception.
Standing, he found his room tilt then suddenly sway before swooping around
him. He quickly sat back on the soft bed and closed his eyes.
"Somebody stop the world, I wanna get off," Adam muttered while willing
his rebelling stomach to settle. Carefully, he opened his right eye
to confirm that the room was now level and immobile.
Reaching to the foot of his bed, Adam picked up his black jeans from where
he'd unceremoniously deposited them, in the wee hours of the morning.
Slowly, he pulled them on while looking for his boots. One he found
easily, it was sitting on the chair in the corner staring back at him as though
on guard, Adam eyed it suspiciously wondering how it got there.
Rising more slowly this time, Adam carefully made his way over to the wash
basin, he couldn't believe his upper legs were still sore and stiff from that
'big-boned beauty'; aptly dubbed by Hoss, who seemed to have taken up residence
on his lap the night before. Now that he thought about it, he had his
big little brother to thank for that ample armful, as Hoss was the one who
had deposited the buxom bison of a barmaid upon him, which had left him effectively
trapped into his chair for the rest of the night. Rubbing his temple,
he realized that trying to use whiskey to numb the discomfort of his feminine
imprisonment was indeed the wrong solution to that problem. Stretching,
then grimacing in pain, he sincerely prayed the effects of last night weren't
permanent, for he was certain his father wanted grandchildren.
Knowing that he needed to appear presentable at the breakfast table, Adam
slowly drew his straight razor across his chin. The silence of the morning
was shattered by an unmistakable yell that startled the black haired man
"ADAM!" Ben Cartwright bellowed from somewhere on the first floor
of the house.
Adam Cartwright jumped at the sound, then winced before checking his chin
for damage. Sure enough, he found he'd nicked his chin and hastily grabbed
a towel to dab at the blood that appeared. Adam shook his head, which
only caused his head to pound more.
Quickly finishing the job at hand, Adam threw on his shirt before going
in search of his other boot, which he found suspiciously lurking under his
bed. Grabbing its mate from the chair, Adam proceeded downstairs with
boots in hand and shirt unbuttoned.
Adam definitely wasn't looking forward to facing his father this morning.
Thanks to a suggestion by his baby brother, the Cartwright sons had headed
into Virginia City the previous night with the intention of showing their
new blacksmith a good time. Little Joe thought that showing the man
a night on the town would set the young man's mind at ease over his impending
nuptials.
His mind is definitely at ease alright; it eased right out of his ears and
disappeared from plain sight! Adam again groaned and rubbed his temples.
How was he to explain that the blacksmith they'd just hired to re-shoe the
horses, prepare the branding irons for the spring roundup and sharpen the
axes and saws for the lumber camp, had decided to run off to Carson City with
one of the saloon girls? As far as he was concerned, it was Joe's bright
idea for a night on the town; so he can explain it to their father.
Heading down the stairs, Adam looked across the great room and found father
and brothers sitting at the breakfast table, he could tell his father was
clearly awaiting his arrival with a coffee cup in hand. Things were
not looking good for the eldest son as Adam recognized the distinct displeased
look upon his father's face. He couldn't even begin to imagine the tale
his brothers must have told concerning last night's events.
"Nice of you to join us." Ben intoned as he watched his oldest son
descend the stairs. Adam definitely looked worse for wear he mused.
Hastily, Adam dropped his boots by the fireplace then buttoned his shirt
before sitting in his chair across the table from his father.
"Mr. Cartlite say you eat!" Hop Sing demanded, as he seemed
to appear from nowhere with plate in hand.
Looking down at the plate that had just been placed before him, Adam felt
his stomach lurch at the sight. There, sitting atop a small mountain of sausage
gravy and biscuits, were two eggs sunny side up staring back at him.
Adam willed his stomach to quell.
"No thanks, just coffee." Adam offered, pushing the offending plate
to the side before reaching for the coffeepot to fill his cup.
"Cook, cook, all the time cook and no on eat!" This was followed by
the sound of irate Cantonese echoing throughout the room as Hop Sing departed.
Adam glanced down to the plate that still stared back at him and grimaced,
before he looked over to his baby brother who seemed to be playing more with
his food than eating it. Hoss on the other hand was shoveling it in
as though he hadn't eaten in months. Looking over to his father he could've
sworn that he saw a small smirk momentarily pass across the man's face, only
to be hidden from view by the older man's napkin.
Ben Cartwright slowly surveyed the sight before him. There sat his
oldest son with ruffled hair still askew from sleep, which was totally out
of character for his usually meticulously groomed son who was definitely suffering
the aftereffects of too much drink. His youngest son too was definitely
hung over and slightly green in color while he idly toyed with his fork and
breakfast. His middle son, well he was as always, his middle son, and
even though he looked a little worse for wear, it certainly had no effect
on his appetite.
Though he really didn't begrudge his sons a night on the town, he just wished
it wasn't a week away from the beginning of spring, and one of the busiest
times around a ranch. He really couldn't afford to lose a day of work
when there were fences to fix, lumber camps to prepare and herds to move.
Clearing his throat loudly, Ben Cartwright glanced at each son in turn before
speaking.
"Now…" Adam felt his hair being parted by a hatchet when his father's voice
thundered throughout the small dining room.
"Would someone care to enlighten me as to your little escapade and why certain
members of this family appear to be, shall we say, under the weather this
morning?"
Adam wanted to place his hands to either side of his head, in the vain hope
of placing the two halves of his skull back together again, when he found
his father pointedly staring in his direction. Glancing to his left
he found his baby brother's puppy dog eyes looking to him with pleading eyebrows
raised. Looking over to his right, he found Hoss inhaling his gravy
and biscuits with all his attention focused solely on his plate. Seeing
that his father was expecting an answer from him, Adam took a large sip of
his coffee before giving the only answer he felt confident to give.
"Don't look at me, I just went for the ride. I spent the entire night
just sitting at a table, ask Hoss." Adam had effectively passed the
torch to middle brother Hoss. After all, Hoss was the one responsible
for the lap crusher.
"It was Joe's idea," Hoss quickly passed the buck to his baby brother without
missing a beat or a forkful. Easily averting the opportunity for his
father to turn that icy stare in his direction.
"Heh." Was all that Joe managed to utter with a sick half smile, when
he found his father's furrowed black brows focused totally on him.
"Well…" Ben's patience was beginning to wear thin with his sons' quite familiar
evasive tactics.
Adam smirked while watching the scene unfold between his father and littlest
brother. Seeing a quick glance out of his father's eye, he hid the small
grin behind his coffee cup. This oughta be good, Adam mused.
"You see Pa, we figured…" Joe began to offer his version of an explanation.
We figured! What's this 'we' nonsense, you got a mouse in your pocket
little brother? Both Adam and Hoss thought to themselves as they glared
at Little Joe.
"Well, Blackie needed to get his mind off of things a little, so we took
him to town." Joe continued, ignoring the venomous stares of his older
brothers.
Why do blacksmiths always get nicknamed 'Blackie' or 'Smithy'? Then
again why do people with certain professions such as doctors or lawmen seem
to lose their identities? Only to be called 'Doc' or 'Sheriff', Adam
wondered idly to himself, suddenly finding his mind wandering, which caused
him to miss the next part of his brother's tale. He was brought back
to the present as a resounding bellow tore through the room and threatened
to shatter the delicate shell that was once a rock solid skull.
"YOU LOST HIM!"
Once again Adam felt his head begin to swim and closed his eyes briefly,
when he heard his father launch into a tirade of sorts. He could only
imagine what it was that his brother had said. He knew well that lecturing
tone of his father's and once again he let his mind begin to wander to escape
from the melee that was about to ensue. Lost him, how could someone
'lose' anyone. People lose socks, errant boots, which have a tendency
to hide under beds, but you can't misplace a person. Adam was again
brought back to the present when he noticed a sudden silence envelop the room
and found all eyes upon him.
"Did you hear what I said Adam?" Ben studied his eldest son from across
the table.
Adam found his father staring directly at him, mildly embarrassed he glanced
quickly to each of his brothers and found them staring at him incredulously.
Swallowing hard, Adam answered his father.
"Ah, actually, no Pa." Feeling that at this point, honesty was the
best policy. Adam felt his cheeks begin to flush when he responded to
his father's inquiry. He hadn't tuned out his father's voice since he
was a teenager and was quite chagrined to find that he could still do it.
Joe was in awe. He always wondered how Adam endured his father's booming
voice and now he knew - Adam just didn't listen. Joe smiled in quiet
admiration and envy of his oldest brother. He was also quite grateful
that his father's attention was now focused on someone else.
"I said, you'll have to handle the forge today. Since we seemed to
have LOST our new blacksmith." Ben eyed Adam, watching for that glazed
over look his son used to adopt when he wasn't listening.
There's that lost person thing again… Adam found himself again beginning
to drift when his father's words suddenly registered in the back of his mind.
"The Forge?" Adam sputtered. All the pounding and clanking of
metal ought to go nicely with the beating in his head.
"Yes, you'll have the forge. I need Hoss to check on those sick cows
in the upper pasture."
All the men at the table knew that at 19, Little Joe was still a little
on the spry side and not up to running the forge, at least not with all the
work facing the Ponderosa.
Adam knew that the chore his father dealt him was a logical decision, but
it still didn't alleviate the feeling that he was being punished. Pa
doesn't have a strange sense of irony; it was downright cruelty, Adam mentally
concluded before draining the last of the coffee from his cup, then excusing
himself from the table. He retrieved his boots before heading out to
fire up the forge.
**************
Adam hadn't even noticed the departure of his family as he began his long
day, a day he wished he could have spent in bed. He definitely wasn't
looking forward to the muscle exhausting pounding of metal nor the unbearable
heat that this task demanded.
Adam first headed to the well to retrieve a couple of buckets of water.
One he would use to cool and temper the iron steel, the other he would keep
close at hand for himself. After the previous night of drinking, his
mouth was as dry as cotton. He placed one bucket down near the forge,
the other he placed up on a shelf to keep it out of the way and away from
falling debris.
Finishing with the water, Adam retrieved a couple of armloads of wood from
the bin next to the barn. Satisfied that this cache of wood would keep
the fire in the forge well stoked. He lit a match to light the kindling,
which quickly started up the flames. Waiting he watched until the fire
intensified to the necessary red-hot level that would be needed to soften
the metal.
Confident that the fire was well underway, Adam glanced about the room and
groaned aloud at the work that lay before him. In one corner was piled
the branding irons, in another, a stack of axes sitting beside a couple of
crates that contained saws and yet more axes. This didn't even include all
the horses that needed shoeing, or the wheels that needed new rims.
Groaning again before rubbing his long fingers to his still throbbing temple,
Adam reached up and took the water-filled ladle from his water bucket and
filling his mouth took a deep swallow. Returning the utensil, he rolled
up his shirtsleeves before turning to the task at hand.
The morning passed with a chorus of "GRUNT, TWANG, OW" that played over
and over again as Adam proceeded to straighten and fix the branding irons.
He wanted to throttle the person that had just thrown them into the tool shed
breaking some of the edges and bending some of the handles. He also
wanted to strangle the little man with a hammer that still seemed to be running
around in his head.
"What the devil?" Adam muttered; he was just finishing with the last
branding iron when he heard the unmistakable wailing of a little creature
in pain. Stopping from his work, Adam balanced the branding iron in
the cooling bucket before heading off in search of the source of that screeching.
Entering the barn the cries became louder and seemed to be drifting down
from over his head. Looking up, Adam surmised the source of all that
pain must be in the hayloft. Quickly ascending the rungs of the ladder,
Adam scanned the loft and found the source of the hideous screams. Near
the far wall there was the largest orange tomcat that Adam had ever seen
and its paw seemed to be caught in the floor.
"Easy there fella, just hold on a sec and I'll get ya loose." Adam
soothed as he made his way over to the trapped barn cat.
"That's a good kitty…" The ensnared animal eyed the approaching human warily.
Leery, the tabby increased its struggles to free itself.
"It's gonna be alright…" Adam reached out and began to pet the head of the
cat while continuing to try and placate the animal. Looking down he
realized that the tomcat's foot was wedged in a break in one of the boards.
"Darn that Little Joe, he was supposed to have replaced these rotten boards
last week. Just wait until Hoss finds out that one of his cats got a
foot stuck, there will be the devil to pay then…" Adam smirked while talking
smoothly to the cat. He knew full well who would be filling in his tender
hearted brother and he promised himself that he'd be there to watch when
Hoss caught up with the littlest Cartwright.
"Easy boy…" Adam continued as he grabbed the cat's leg with one hand and
pried away the broken board with the other.
With a startle howl the previously trapped animal bolted in surprise and
terror upon achieving his freedom. Clawing at his savior, the large
orange feline fled from captivity.
"Yowl!" Adam bellowed in surprise as he felt extremely long nails
rake into his bare forearms. Scanning his arms, he found long tears
to his skin where the animal's claws had dug in.
"You're welcome, Cat!" Now angry and feeling the sting of the scratches,
Adam yelled in frustration and pain at the feline's retreating backside.
Still studying the damage to his arms, Adam neglected to watch where he
was walking and stepped cleanly through another broken board in the loft
floor.
"Ouch!" Adam now found himself trapped in the similar predicament
as the cat.
Well isn't this pleasant!
Reaching down he found his foot embedded in the rotten flooring up to his
ankle. An ankle which now felt a tad bit worse for wear, which was starting
to make its presence known with a sharp pain up to Adam's knee.
Grunting, Adam reached out to rub the sore ankle while he devised a means
to free his own foot. Realizing his ankle was already swelling, he decided
not to pull it out of his boot. After a couple of minutes to clear
his head and consider the situation carefully, Adam felt his only means of
freeing his foot was to use the same method he had with the cat. Carefully,
he reached down and began to pull and tug at the rotting wood.
"OW!" Adam exclaimed as a piece of wood slipped in his grasp running
splinters along the palm of his left hand. "Great just great," Adam
complained as he began to dig the shards from his skin.
As the moments passed and Adam continued to fumble with removing the splinters
from his hand, he found his mood rapidly deteriorating. In frustration
over the wood pieces stinging in his hand, the burning sensation of his forearms
and the aching of his foot, not to mention the throbbing in his head, Adam
reached out and grabbed the top of the trapped boot with both hands and pulled.
Not realizing that he'd partially freed himself minutes before, nor the strength
he possessed when in a tirade, Adam found his body somersaulting backwards
to the back wall of the loft.
Stunned and surprised when his back crashed into the wall, Adam found his
temper cool immediately when he comprehended how easily he could have headed
the other way towards the edge of the loft and then onto the barn floor below.
Taking one long calming breath, Adam gingerly stood and tested out his sore
ankle. Determining that the pain in his foot was bearable, Adam half
walked and half hobbled over to the ladder. Easing himself down to the
barn floor, he carefully made his way back to the forge where he was safe
from rotten boards and irate frightened felines.
**************
Adam had just completed honing the edges on a dozen or so of the timber
axes when he heard a carriage pull into the yard. Walking out to greet
the traveler, Adam wished he were more presentable when he discovered that
the visitor was a woman, a very pretty woman.
Dressed in a very plain woolen skirt and jacket, the young woman appeared
to be in her early twenties with auburn hair that she had pulled tightly into
a bun at the back of her head that allowed her very delicate features to
be clearly seen. Pulling the horses to a stop in the middle of the yard, the
woman glanced around. She was startled by a deep baritone voice that
seemed to come from nowhere.
"Can I help you Miss?"
Jumping slightly at the voice, she looked over her shoulder towards the
direction the sound had come from. She noticed a dark haired man approach
her buggy and from the looks of the sweat that drenched his form she had
obviously taken him away from some sort of work. Taking a small breath
and setting her petite features, the woman responded with a slight snip to
her tone.
"Maybe you can. Do you by any chance know a Joe Cartwright?"
The young lady intoned as she began to alight from her carriage.
Figures; I should have known that she'd be here to see that little Casanova
of a brother of mine.
Adam raced forward to assist the little lady from her buggy and wished that
he'd had a chance to wash his face and maybe put on a clean shirt before reaching
out to help the woman down.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." Adam replied with his best disarming
smile.
"Is he here by any chance?" The woman sweetly replied displaying a
demure and most charming smile, hoping she had found the man she sought.
"No, I'm afraid not. Can I help you by chance, I'm his brother."
Adam offered when the woman was safely standing on the ground next to him.
He noticed that the top of her head barely reached his shoulder.
Somewhat disappointed that she'd come all this distance and was unable to
find the man she'd driven all the way from Virginia City to see. Sighing
deeply, she smiled shyly at the man before her.
"Could you deliver a message to him for me?"
"Sure, I’d be happy to deliver a message." Adam offered, slightly
distracted as he saw the large orange tomcat from earlier in the day head
toward the forge.
Without warning he felt a sharp blow to his right eye that caused him to
fall onto his backside in the dirt of the yard. Holding one hand to
his injured eye, he stared at the petite woman now standing over him and waving
an accusing finger at his nose.
"You tell that brother of yours, that the next time he decides to go to
town to pick up floozies, that he leaves my fiancée at home!"
Still holding his hand to face, Adam watched as the small woman climbed
back into her buggy and drove away.
"For a little lady she sure packed one hell of a wallop." Adam mused
before wincing at the pain in his cheek. This is one message I'm gonna
enjoy delivering.
Standing slowly, Adam dusted off his backside and considered heading into
the house in search of a late lunch. Remembering his breakfast staring
back at him and the queasy feeling in his stomach, he thought better of the
idea and headed back to the forge.
**************
"GRUNT, TWANG, OW". "GRUNT, TWANG, OW". After many renditions of the
very familiar tune, Adam completed sharpening the saws from one of the crates
of saws. He stopped to wipe his brow and take a drink when a very familiar
shrill shriek pierced the air.
"Not again!" He growled throwing the ladle back into the drinking
bucket. Adam's patience was starting to run thin, and his muscles were
beginning to ache. He was hot and bathed in sweat, which was a state
he was not overly fond of. Not to mention being miserable from the
annoying splinters in his hand, the deep cat scratches that ran down his
forearms, a dull headache that refused to go away, a twisted ankle and a
very tender swollen black eye.
"And now," Adam muttered to himself, "I have to waste time rescuing that
darn fool cat yet again. Well, one more time for the slow learners!"
He began to stomp his way towards the barn, only to be reminded of his bad
foot the second it slammed into the ground.
"OW!" Adam yelled, then bit off the swear words that entered his mind
before they left his lips. He knew his father didn't appreciate the
use of foul language. Babbling under his breath about little brothers,
cheap whiskey, rotten wood, irate females and dim-witted animals; Adam half
hobbled, half hopped to the barn.
Once again, Adam found the large orange tabby snared by the rotten wood
in the loft. Carefully he made his way over to the cat, while rolling
down his shirtsleeves and buttoning the cuffs. Standing over the trapped
animal, Adam took stock of the situation before him and decided to grasp the
cat by the scruff of the neck before freeing the foot.
"There, ya little varmint. Now stay out of here!" Adam ordered
trying to make sure that his arms were out of harms way.
The frightened cat was none too pleased at the way he was being manhandled.
Not particularly fond of the way his neck had been grabbed, the angry tabby
turned with claws bared at his two-timed rescuer.
Though Adam had futilely attempted to protect himself by covering his previously
clawed arms, he had neglected his bare chest. He'd unbuttoned his shirt
when the heat of the day combined with the heat the forge had made him uncomfortably
hot. He yelped and fell back onto his backside as the cat flew towards
him with an angry squeal.
He could feel the claws paw into him and roughly pushed the offending object
away and across the room. Stunned Adam sat up and scanned the area for
the vicious little animal. He wasn't happy to find the tabby sitting
by a far corner, calmly licking and cleaning its paws.
Looking down, Adam saw traces of red trailing down his chest, which neatly
matched the ones on his arms. He dabbed at the blood with the tails
of his shirt. Boy, this stings, he thought as another saying entered
his mind, Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
"Lovely, I've been made a fool by a darn stupid cat!" Grimacing, Adam
slowly got to his feet and carefully made his way over to the ladder of the
loft. He kept a vigilant eye trained on the feline in the corner that
now seemed to pay him no mind.
Adam had barely made it down three rungs when he heard a slight cracking
sound, followed by a loud snap. Without warning, and what seemed like
slow motion, he felt his foot suddenly leave the seemingly solid step, jerking
his body downwards. Grabbing harder to the wood slat with his hands,
he hoped to offset his impending descent. But to no avail as the rotten
board grasped tightly in his hands pulled loose from the cross rails.
Stupefied, Adam stared at the board securely held within his grasp as he fell
with a resounding 'THUD!' to the barn floor below.
Gasping to regain the breath that he'd just had knocked out of him and wincing
against the pain he now found in his shoulders, back and lower backside, Adam
groaned aloud. If little brother hadn't fixed the loft, I should've
realized he HAD'T FIXED THE LADDER EITHER! Adam mentally berated himself;
he wasn't sure whom he was madder at, his baby brother for not doing his job
or himself for not thinking things through.
While continuing to lie on the floor, Adam closed his eyes and attempted
to calm his nerves. He decided to wait and rest a couple of minutes
before attempting to get to his feet. Feeling a dull punch to his chest,
Adam opened his eyes just in time to see an orange fur ball jump from his
mid section and head out the barn door tail held high.
"Thanks for the help, you dim-witted mangy animal!" Adam yelled, just
add insult to injury!
**************
"GRUNT, TWANG, OW". Later in the day, Adam stopped to wipe the sweat
from his brow before it began to roll into his eyes. He was almost done
with the tools for the timber operation and scanned the room appreciatively.
Neatly stacked in one corner were the finely honed axes. Near the door,
were the branding irons and laid out in the crates were the saws. He
only had a couple more saws before he would call it a day. The horseshoes
and wagon rims would just have to wait until tomorrow. He was just too
tired to attempt anymore today.
Pulling the ladle out of his drinking bucket, Adam took a deep gulp of the
now stale water before pouring the rest over his head. Closing his eyes,
he took a deep refreshing breath as the water cooled his still aching head.
His eyes flew open and scanned the room nervously when he suddenly heard
the unmistakable sound of purring. He hadn't noticed when the cat had
gotten into the room and all he knew was he didn't need any trouble now.
Adam's eyes flew from corner to corner in search of his furry adversary and
found the cat sitting on a shelf near the far wall near the axes.
Cautiously and prudently, Adam approached the orange tabby of terror.
"Here kitty kitty." Adam said aloud while making his way towards the
cat and trying to stay calm while thinking Kitty my foot, more like the orange
fuzz ball from Hell!
The tomcat watched the man slowly approach, it carefully studied his approach
and as soon as the black haired man was within arms reach it leapt for escape.
Caught off guard, Adam jumped to the side in surprise making every attempt
to stay clear of the animal's sharp claws. Tripping over the bucket
he had placed near the forge for tempering the iron, Adam forgot his injured
ankle. Landing hard, he yelled out in pain. Stumbling he lost
his balance and fell back into the freshly honed axes. Attempting to
break his fall, Adam reached out his right hand and felt it slid down one
of the nice sharp edges.
Slightly dazed and utterly amazed at the day he was having, Adam stared
at the blood that now oozed from the cut in his palm. Shaking his head,
Adam reached into his back pocket, pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped
his latest wound. Mentally, and not without a little disdain Adam ticked
off his hurts one by one: Headache, check still there; Splinters, yep still
present and accounted for; Cat scratches, left arm, right arm, chest; ankle,
most certainly; black eye, definitely; now for the latest and greatest a cut
hand.
Looking down at his hand and somewhat too tired to care; he saw the blood
begin to seep through the makeshift bandage. Oh goody, looks like I'll
need stitches, Adam thought sardonically slowly rising from the floor to his
feet and glancing about the room that was now in shambles. All of his
hard work, thoroughly undone by one miserable dumb fat orange creature from
the depths of Hades.
Out of corner of his eye, Adam spied movement and saw the bane of his current
existence. It was slowly making its way across the floor to the forge.
"Get away from that!" Adam bellowed making a dive for the unsuspecting
animal. Startled, the animal leapt away from the object now descending
upon him, jumping first to a low bench by a doorway then higher to a shelf.
Adam fell to the floor on his stomach as the tomcat scurried away from his
grasp. He then heard the crashing of wood against wood and looked up
in time to see the shelf, his water bucket and ladle descend upon him.
He wasn't sure how long he lay there on the dirt floor of the forge.
All he knew when he awoke was that his head really hurt. Even more so
than the dull throbbing that had plagued him all day. Gingerly he reached
up to touch where it hurt most and found his fingers wet. Looking down
at his fingertips, he wasn't surprised to find them red.
Closing his eyes against the pain and frustration, Adam pulled his now water-drenched
body into an upright position upon the floor. Glancing around the room,
he found the place in shambles. With all the strength that he could
still muster, Adam stood and found his blood begin to boil.
He wasn't sure whom he was madder at, Little Joe for 'Losing' the blacksmith,
Hoss for keeping that demon cat or his father for assigning him to the forge.
He was even more than a little angry at himself for allowing his brothers
to talk him into going to town the night before. Standing there seething
at the destruction of all his hard work, yet again a large orange object moved
slowly into his peripheral vision.
"You! Out of here!" Adam raged moving ominously towards the
fiery feline.
More than a little frightened the cat scrambled for the exit with Adam close
on its heels. Once the tabby had safely escaped out the door, Adam let
out a primal yell of 'UGH' then slammed the door in a fury causing the branding
irons to tumble to the floor at his feet.
Closing his eyes tightly, Adam pinched the bridge of his nose with his left
index finger and thumb in a futile attempt to quiet his seething fury.
No longer able to contain the wrath within, Adam turned and struck out with
his foot and solidly connected with the anvil that sat in the middle of the
floor. Adam grunted back the cry that threatened to erupt from his throat
as he grabbed, once more, his injured right foot. The screaming pain
had all but erased the unbridled fury of only moments before.
**************
Surrendering to defeat, Adam had given up any hopes of salvaging the disaster
area that was once the forge. After dousing the fire, he slowly limped
to the main house.
"Hop Sing!" Adam called out upon opening the front door. He
was surprised when the oriental cook didn't respond immediately. Slowly
making his way to the kitchen, Adam belatedly remembered it was the cook's
day off and was probably in town visiting friends and family.
Ambling as best he could, Adam made his way over to the small cabinet where
the family kept the medical supplies. Retrieving the liniment bottle
and a couple of rags, Adam slowly made the journey up to his room.
Standing before the mirror at his wash stand, Adam could barely recognize
the face of the person before him. His right eye was practically swollen
shut; grinning, he thought of the little lady who blessed him with it and
the idea of passing on 'the message' to his baby brother. He had a nice
gash over his eye that still dribbled a small trickle of blood down the left
side of his face.
Setting the liniment bottle and rags next to the basin on the stand.
Adam took the pitcher and poured the water into the basin then carefully bent
over and splashed the cool liquid upon his face. Gingerly he removed
his shirt before soaking one of his clean hand towels to begin the painful
process of washing the scratches on his arms and chest. Once bathed,
he limped to the bed where he carefully removed his boot and sock from his
injured foot. Adam winced at the sight of his swollen and very bruised
foot.
Despondent over the events of this disastrous day, Adam shook his head in
disgust as he slowly hobbled back towards the washstand. Taking the
liniment bottle in one hand and a clean rag in the other, Adam set about tending
to his injuries. He hissed as the liniment burned the cut above his
eye and felt tears form as he applied the liquid to the cat scratches.
He was just about to apply more medicine to his face when he felt something
brush against his bare foot.
Startled, Adam jumped back in surprise, once again landing on his sore foot.
Pain, stunned and more than a little rattled, he released the liniment bottle
and heard it crash to the floor at his feet.
All the combined pressures of the day were just more than the oldest Cartwright
son could bear. He found that all of the pent up hurt, shock and anger
were more than he could endure. With a flurry of expletive deleteds
that could make the most seasoned of sailors from the Barbary to the Ivory
Coasts blush, Adam released his pent up frustrations.
Though Adam wasn't sure if the words he yelled even went together or made
any sense. All he knew was that it sure made him feel momentarily better.
**************
Ben Cartwright entered the house in something less than a bad mood.
It had been a long and trying day. First he had to put up with his youngest
son who whined and whimpered every time the young man had struck a hammer
to a nail or an axe to a rail. Before he knew it, the fence mending
had quickly dissolved into slow torture.
By midday, his middle son had joined them. Hoss had been happy to
announce that there was nothing seriously wrong with the cattle. But
when Ben walked up to greet the robust man while he dismounted his horse,
he was quickly repulsed as Hoss lost his breakfast all over his new boots.
That was when he realized, even Hoss was not immune to the repercussions
of a hang over.
"Sorry Pa," was all that Hoss could offer in apology, leaving his father
to the vile stench for the rest of the day.
Now Ben found himself in the entryway to his home listening to language
so unbelievably obscene that he swore the room had been painted the dark
shade of navy blue. He was even more shocked and taken aback to hear
it coming from his college-educated son.
"ADAM STODDARD CARTWRIGHT!" Ben Cartwright bellowed, rattling the
panes of glass in the downstairs windows.
Hoss found his stomach churning as he glanced up the stairs towards the
hall leading to his older brother's room. He wasn't sure what Adam
was saying, but he was fairly certain from the tone of his father's voice
that those weren't nice words he'd been using.
Joe giggled quietly before trying desperately to hide a smirk when he noticed
his father glare back at him. He knew some of those words Adam had used
were not acceptable terms in his father's household. Coughing into
his fist, Joe tried to quell his chuckle and hide his smile simultaneously.
'Stoddard', what a lousy middle name. And I thought Francis was bad.
'Stodgy' is more like it. Joe found himself smiling even broader when
he thought of his bossy oldest brother's new nickname.
Adam groaned aloud when he heard his father's voice drift into his room.
Why not? This is gonna ruin one beautiful day, he lamented to himself
as he turned to make his way downstairs.
CRUNCH! Wincing, Adam looked down to his battered bare foot, where
he found a piece of glass shard poking out from its instep. With a disgusted
glance and a deep sigh, he bent over, pulled the bottle fragment from his
foot, shook his head, flicked the offending object to the washstand then
limped towards his inevitable doom.
Ben Cartwright stood facing the fireplace, breathing as deeply as he could
to try and still his anger. Without a glance, he knew his two youngest
sons stood frozen by the door. Ben heard Adam begin to descend the stairs;
he would wait until Adam had fully entered the room. He was not pleased
to hear his son's footfalls stop on the middle landing.
Little Joe and Hoss watched as their older brother slowly came into view
and descended the stairs. Adam looked like he'd tangled with a Grizzly
and lost.
"Joe, could you do me a favor and ride for Doc Martin?" Adam called
out addressing his baby brother. Though he knew his injuries weren't
serious, he was certain a few of them required some doctoring.
Nodding, Joe turned to do his brother's bidding.
"Don't you move a muscle Joseph." Ben ordered still facing the fireplace;
he had still not looked up to see the state of his oldest child.
"Then I hope you don't mind if I sit this one out?" Adam drolly intoned,
unceremoniously plopping himself onto the steps of the stairs. Only
to regret his actions immediately, when his tender backside reminded him of
the trip down the loft ladder.
Ben was so furious with his son he could barely speak. First Adam's
use of blasphemy in his house, then the boy's insolence by insisting that
Little Joe ride for a doctor and now his total disrespect by failing to enter
the room to face his father properly. Enraged, Ben turned to address
his first born.
"Adam, I will not tolerate…" Ben began to roar, then his voice trailed off
when his anger quickly dissipated at the sight of his son's injured state.
Ben quickly crossed the room to where Adam sat.
"Joe, why are you standing there gawking with your mouth hanging open?
Do as your brother asked and fetch Doc Martin. Hoss, help me get him
up to his room, then get the liniment and some bandages." Ben barked
orders to his younger sons.
**************
Adam awoke later to a pressure weighing heavily down on his chest.
Though the weight was not unbearable, it was extremely annoying. Opening
his one good eye, he was not amused with the sight before him. There
on his chest lay the personal pet of Lucifer himself and Adam swore it was
grinning at him.
"Who's your friend son?"
Adam looked up from the assuredly evil creature to his father who was entering
his room with dinner tray in hand.
"He's no friend of mine." Adam assured his father, wondering how the
demon kitty straight from the depths of Hades had gotten into his room.
Setting the tray on Adam's dresser, Ben shooed the cat from his son's bed.
Adam gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position, careful to mind the
stitches on his hand and trying not to jar his broken foot too much.
His father moved the tray from the dresser to his lap, then sat down in the
chair by his bedside.
"Would you care to tell me about what happened today?" Ben patiently
inquired. He began to cut Adam's roast beef knowing that his son would
not be able to accomplish the task due to the stitches in his hand.
"Not really Pa." This was one day that Adam hoped he would soon forget.
"I see." His father replied. He still hadn't gotten a clear
explanation from his son concerning what had happened and curiosity was beginning
to get the better of him.
Adam hoped his meal would pass in companionable silence with his father,
until those hopes were dashed by the sound of his father clearing his throat.
"Adam, there seems to be this matter regarding your selection of words recently.
I paid handsomely for your education and feel your choice of language extremely
distressing. Both of your brothers look up to you as a role model and
though I know you're a grown man…"
Adam's eyes began to glaze, chewing on the roast beef he'd just placed in
his mouth. He found his mind begin to drift once more. Model a
role? Then again, can someone really grow a man…? Can someone
grow a person then misplace where they put them…
The night was quiet and peaceful; Adam was sleeping soundly thanks to a
little help from Doc Martin's pain medication. Subconsciously, he felt
pressure upon his injured right foot. Reaching out with his left foot,
he swiped away the offending presence.
"Raaa" a creature called out, followed by a dull thud and a "Whomp" as something
was thrown into the nearby wall then fell to the floor, culminating with the
unmistakable sound of claws beating a hasty retreat across bare wooden floors.
Adam Cartwright rolled onto his side, as a small smile formed upon his lips,
then drifted deeper into very pleasant dreams.
The End
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