“A Little Dab’ll Do Ya”
By K.K. Shaulis
Sheriff Roy Coffee slipped his hands into his front pants’ pockets and ambled
down the board walk toward the Virginia City Overland Stage office. His
old friend Ben Cartwright had unexpected guests at the Ponderosa -- Dutch
royalty of some sort – and had asked him to give his three sons, Adam, Hoss
and Joseph a message to make themselves presentable before they headed back
home. The Cartwright boys had just spent the past two weeks in San Francisco
and Ben wanted to make sure that they would make a good impression on the
count and countess of someplace or another from the start. Ben had arranged
for them to go to the hotel, the International House, to wash up. He even
had Hop Sing, the family’s chief cook and bottle washer, take their best
clothes and some special toiletries to the hotel so there would be no excuse
for them showing up looking like saddle tramps.
Roy patted Johnny Griffith’s head as he passed the red headed youngster and deftly stepped over Johnny’s dog, Patches, the little black and white rat terrier, who was lying in his path. He then caught sight of the stage coach as it came into view at the other end of town. ‘Looks like this won’t take long at all,’ he thought to himself and began to amble a little faster so that he and the stage arrived at the Overland office at exactly the same time.
“Hi, Sam,” he greeted the office manager as the tall lanky man raced out the door past him, a small stepstool used to assist passengers from the stage in his hands.
“Sheriff,” Sam acknowledged him with a nod. “Looking for anyone in particular?” he himself looked concerned at the lawman’s presence which was for him his natural look.
Roy chuckled to himself as Sam maintained eye contact with him while at the same time positioning the stool on the ground and wrenching open the now-stopped stagecoach door. He never met a more skittish man in his whole life. “Well, no outlaws or swindlers in the normal sense but their Pa may certainly disagree with that statement at times,” he laughed anticipating Adam’s, Hoss’s and Joe’s appearance from the stage.
Instead, three really strange, very funny looking old men covered in dust and dirt disembarked from the conveyance. “Hi, Roy, how’s it going?” the bald one giggled and slapped him on the back.
Roy stared back at the back-slapper quizzically. “Do I know you, sir?”
The bald man let out a cackle that sounded very familiar to Coffee. “Pretty much since I was born,” he giggled again, slapped him on the back again, and reached up to grab a piece of luggage from the driver.
The lawman was stunned. ‘Since he was born? This guy’s older than I am!’ He leaned inside the now empty coach, looked around, leaned back out and called up to the stage driver. “I thought the Cartwright boys were supposed to be on this stage? I got a message from their Pa for them.”
“Do you need your eyes examined, Roy?” the only one with hair covering his head – how ironic, huh? -- drawled and leaned against the hitching post. “Or have you been out in the sun too long?”
“Yeah, Roy. Something wrong with ya?” the third one with the frizzy hair on the sides of his otherwise hairless head took the bag from the bald one.
“Who are you three?” Sheriff Coffee looked at them suspiciously.
“Oh, come on now, Roy,” the dark haired one laughed. “Stop pulling our legs. You know perfectly well we’re the Cartwright boys.”
“What?”
“Really, Roy. It’s us. Adam, Hoss and Little Joe,” Hoss (?) insisted chuckling. “Here. Let me get my fiddle down and play you a number like Madama Morova taught me. Hey, Sam,” he yelled up to the driver,” Throw down my violin case.” He quickly pulled out the instrument, played a lively “Pop Goes the Weasel” and Little Joe (?) collected 50 cents from passers-by for his efforts.
“But…” Coffee shook his head and continued to look from Adam (?) to Hoss (?) to Little Joe (?). “I’m not sure, fellows. I remember you as taller and younger,” Sheriff Coffee said out loud, but thought to himself, ‘and much better looking.’
“Well, I do feel a little older since I’ve been in the big city but I
don’t think I grew any,” Little Joe (?) smiled and tipped his hat to a lady
who gave him a dirty look and sashayed away from him as quickly as she could.
“I don’t know…you all just look so very different…” Roy had to finally say
it.
“You still don’t believe us, huh?” Adam (?) tossed the matchstick he was chewing on into the street.
“It’s not that I don’t …”
“I know. We’ll show you our fast draws,” Hoss (?) whipped out his ivory
gripped Remington Army revolver faster than any old man could have…
“Most certainly,” Little Joe (?) drew his Colt Model 1851 Navy revolver
lightening fast and Adam (?), his Colt .44 model 1860 Army revolver.
‘Well, at least the guns are right except…,’ Coffee thought studying the three. “The big city change you from a lefty to a righty…er…Little Joe (?)?”
“Oh,” Little Joe (?) looked down at his gunbelt nonchalantly. “I must have put it on wrong this morning.” He quickly readjusted the holster so it was on his left hip and again demonstrated his lightning quick fast draw. “By the way, you said you had a message from our Pa?” he reholstered his gun and picked up his bag while the other two gathered up their luggage. “Nothing wrong, is there?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Roy was still coming to grips with the situation. “Your Pa says you’ve got special guests at the Ponderosa and wanted ya three to clean up over at the International House before ya headed home. He’s got ya a room waiting and Hop Sing brought ya clothes and some special toiletries and such. That’s it.”
“That’s great,” Little Joe (?) who was halfway paying attention to what the lawman said tried another wink at a saloon girl but was completely ignored by her.
“Well, I haven’t exactly felt like myself since we ran out of Hop Sing’s special toiletries. The sooner I get back to normal the better,” Adam (?) shoved off in the exact direction of the International House.
“Same here,” grumped Little Joe (?) following Adam (?).
“Pa didn’t mention any food, did he?” Hoss (?) looked hopefully at the sheriff as he passed by.
“No,” Sheriff Coffee shook his head as he watched the youngest and the oldest Cartwright boys disappear. “But I’m sure you can talk Miss Sallie Mae into fixing ya something…er…after ya clean up.”
“Yep,” Hoss (?) looked at his reflection in the water of the horse trough. “I guess I do look a bit strange. See you, Roy!” he hurried to catch up with the other two.
“A bit strange?” Roy shook his head to clear his vision and hopefully
his head too. Maybe if he took a nap.
***************
Sheriff Coffee managed to grabbed forty winks but swore he was still dreaming
when he opened his eyes a few hours later to find three very familiar faces
attached to three very familiar bodies standing in front of him.
“Feeling a bit more like yourself now, Roy?” tall, dark and handsome Adam rested his behind against the porch support and crossed his arms over his chest. He and his brothers had changed into their Sunday best including those quaint little string ties.
“I could ask you the same question, boys,” Coffee yawned and got to his feet, “But I can already tell that by just looking at you.”
“Well, clothes do make the man, you know, Roy,” Adam flicked a strand of his own (?) dark hair off his lapel and smiled so that the sun sparkled off his left front incisor and his dimple showed.
“Yep, and ain’t it amazing what a little hot water can do?” big, strong, good looking Hoss’s grin reached all the way up to his beautiful blue eyes. “Not to mention Hop Sing’s secret toiletries.”
“I always like what it does for my hair,” drop dead gorgeous Little Joe took off his hat and ran his fingers through his wavy brown pompadour. “So do the ladies,” he winked at several of the girls who had quickly converged on the brothers like a swarm of locust.
“It sure makes a new man out of you,” Hoss agreed tipping his hat to schoolmarm Miss Abigail Jones who now was looking dreamily at his oldest brother.
“Can’t argue with you there,” the lawman studied the three of them, again wondering what was going on. “The change, however, is truly remarkable.”
“Change?” all three Cartwright boys looked at each other mystified. They shrugged it off, however, attributing it to the sheriff being overworked.
“Well, Roy. Much as we enjoy chatting with you and all of these lovely ladies,” Adam flashed his smile around the crowd of females which prompted two of them to swoon, “We better be getting back home or Pa will have our hides.”
“One thing though, fellas,” Roy managed to push through the Cartwrights’ throng of admirers whose numbers seemed to be swelling exponentially, “Could ya tell Hop Sing that I’d like to see him about those special toiletries?”
Hoss grinned as he jumped up in the rented buckboard’s seat beside Adam and Little Joe made himself comfortable in the back. “Sure thing, Roy, if you think you can handle it.”
“Yaw!!!” Adam flipped the reins and managed to steer around all the women who were now spilling into the street.
Sheriff Coffee and a whole lot of really disappointed females watched as the boys disappeared out of town. They -- everyone else except Coffee, that is – heaved a collective sigh and slowly dispersed leaving Coffee standing in the street by himself, wondering if he could handle it. Maybe he should clean his Smith and Wesson Army Revolver, Model 1875, just in case.
THE END