My Name is not ‘Dum-dum!’

By Sadiespinner

Spring had been slow in waking from her slumber. The long wet spell between actual spring and the eventual climb towards summer was at last showing positive signs. New life abounded from field to glen to woodland to deep into the dense pine forests. Life on the Ponderosa, home to Ben Cartwright his wife Marie and their three sons, Adam the eldest, Hoss the proverbial middle child although not bothered most of the time by his position, and Joseph, the youngest. Joseph came by the name Little Joe, a few, short, hours after entering this world. He was small in comparison to both his brothers and father, favoring his mother. From the very first he seemed determined that the name would only serve to fuel the fire of his naturally inherited independent spirit and stubborn streak, not to be outdone by anything his brothers could do.

The sun crept up over the high mountains, not quite summer strong. Nevertheless warm enough to cause the gathered dew to rise off the roof of the barn and any other spot it touched in swirls of wispy mist.

Already the house was alive and moving to the tick of the clock and needs of the day. Hop Sing the cook and Marie were in the kitchen, they worked together beautifully most of the time, even though she was the mistress of the household.

Today they were preparing to go see a new neighbor, Mr. and Mrs. George Washington. Little Hoss was so intrigued that this might be the famous and wonderful first president, that his faith could not be shaken. In the interest of preserving any semblance of family peace and harmony they agreed he could accompany them. Ben had ridden out just before the real dawn having a great distance to cover. He was in the process of acquiring a new and very advantageous section of prime timber to add to his growing land holdings. He had intended to take his eldest son with him. Adam was, in his own mind anyway, Ben’s most important consultant. Life so often steps in and trips one up, therefore Ben had to leave before the boy was up and around.

Knowing this would not sit well with Adam he set his mind to working out how he would appease the angry lad when he got home and had to face Adam’s mulish pouting and decidedly irritated response to being left behind. Upsetting the apple cart at this point was not something he wished to have happen. After all things were going far better in the last year, they had managed to navigate through a very stormy and tempest fueled time right after his return from a long trip to New Orleans accompanied by a new bride to mother his two sons. Hoss ever the gentle little boy, was smitten instantly. Adam was another story, the up hill battles that raged for the first months left scars on all hearts, but love conquers all. The scars were gone forever. The hills now echoed with disgruntled disclaimers of youth vs. young adult, both parties dead sure each stood in the right.

Ben consoled himself with all the facts pertaining to Adam’s age, embolden by his own righteous decision as his father. Thus, refusing to entertain the other side of the coin, being the facts pertaining to his above average intelligence, aptitude, or maturity, beyond his age in most instances or insight. There in lay the rub. Adam had been left behind and those around him would get the brunt of his scowling sharp tongued, sulky attitude.

Adam looked out the window of his room as he buttoned his shirt. It was a glorious early June day compounded by the fact there would be no school, due to Miss Saunders spraining her ankle yesterday, they now had a three day weekend. Sunlight played on the roof. The trees now fully leafed, made dapples here and there. The great pines whispered the promise of adventure and fresh mountain air up in the high country. Quickly finishing his routine, he bounded down the stairs, his stepmother and brothers looked up as he dashed past on his way to the outhouse, not having to use the chamber pot was one of the great parts of the warm weather. As he scooted by the barn something made him stop, even in his urgency he sensed something was amiss. With his teeth clenched he took the detour.

“WHAT!” “Nooo . . .”

Big Stony, his father’s horse was not in the stall. Adam looked around, hoping he was just in another.

Nature overrode his temper and he ran to finish his original duty.

His shout did not go unnoticed as it floated through the open window on the breeze.

“Sigh, I’m guessing he knows his father has already left, and any minute now-”

The words were hardly off her lips as the front door slammed open. Adam rounded the corner into the dining room. Three sets of eyes looked back at him, one blue and wide with something akin to fear, one deep hazel green flecked with golden sparks, pleased to the hilt to see him, totally oblivious to the deluge ready to spill on them. The last set deep emerald, glittering, as they narrowed to slits, were accompanied by a stern frown, lips thinned, face registering parental refusal to accept this behavior.

“Young man, is that how you have been taught to enter this house?”

Adam drew in a deep breath, his body rigid. For a long minute he did nothing. Finally he closed his eyes lip pushing out then puffed his cheeks, face as dark as he could muster.

“No, this is not how I normally enter this house, but then again, I don’t usually find myself left behind like, like-!”

Suddenly the_ _ expression on his mother’s face deflated him to a point. “I am sorry ma’am.”

“Just be grateful your father is NOT home.”

Adam ducked his head he was at that, grateful, his father had not been a privy to his entrance.

Hop Sing entered, “Master Adam, you sit, no good all a time yell before eat, get belly ache!”

“Harrumph, like anyone cares,” he muttered as he came forward and slid rather un-graciously into his chair.

“Perhaps if you spent less time scowling and acting mulish, when you don’t get your way, you might notice how much people do care.” Times like this brought out her accent. It always made her words more meaningful.

Adam raised his head, cheeks deep pink, as he looked into the faces around the table. Marie handed him a platter of ham, her one brow raised uncannily like his father, Hoss let out a low whoosh of air, the baby, clapped and picked up his spoon pounding it down into his bowl to splash oatmeal up into the air and splatter everything with in a 12 inch radius

“No, no, you are a very bad little boy, look what you have done Mama is all covered in oatmeal.” Her voice sharp, her face scowling. Instantly his little lips began to tremble, big eyes filling with shimmering tears. The tiny head bobbed, curls bouncing.

His own dilemma sidetracked for the moment, Adam did his best to hide the smirk, and when Marie ducked her head to swipe at the oatmeal on her dress front he gave Little Joe a devilish grin and winked. Hoss opened his mouth then shut it shaking his head.

Joe wrinkled his nose and grinned back giggling gleefully he clapped again blinking in an attempt to match his brother’s wink.

Her head shot up as Marie’s mind clicked to the conversation, the fact it had been held in silence, made no difference.

Sharp glints of fire flew at each face. Hoss blushed and put all his effort into his breakfast. Little Joe tilted his head back and forth his little tongue reaching for the spot of oatmeal perched on the end of his nose, his eyes crossed as he tried to focus.

Having already set the stage, with the mood he was in Adam flung caution to the wind. Holding his sides he let himself topple to the floor, rolling around howling for all he was worth, tears of laughter making his eyes more gold than usual. His baby brother inspired by his beloved big brother’s response lifted his bowl over his head only by the grace of God and Hop Sings swift movement further disaster was averted.

“Aaha-hah-haaa, Dum-dum-Dum-dum.” Reaching out clapping he leaned over the edge of his high chair. Curious as to why the dark scowl suddenly dissolved what moments ago had been a cheeky, deeply dimpled, countenance. Little Joe grinned at him, “Dum-dum?”

“Oh shut up! I told you, my name is ADAM! Not, Dum-dum…you… Lit-”

“Enough!” the roar stopped all movement.

Marie had stood and in doing so rocked her chair back so it crashed over backwards.

Sweeping around the table she loomed over her eldest son. Marie Cartwright was a tiny person, petite and delicate to the eye. However at this precise instant she appeared to be much, much, bigger and the set of her jaw, fire in her eye and hands placed one on her hip the other shaking a finger at him, all led Adam to the sorry conclusion he had said too much, and it might be too late. In the interest of self-preservation, he lay flat on his back using his elbows and heels to scoot as far away as the few minutes he had would allow.

Eyes wide Adam shrugged. A sickly smile bloomed and the withered on his lips.

“Get up! Get up this instant young man!”

Adam scrambled to his feet managing to get another few inches between them.

“Yes ma’am.”

She studied him long and hard with a wave of her hand she dismissed him. “There are times when for the life of me I cannot fathom how your father comes up with the notion of you as responsible and mature . . . ”

Stung deeply Adam boldly stepped past her and with a side-glance only, headed for the front door. “Well, excuse me all to pieces. I have chores to tend to . . .”

This time the door shut firmly, but did not slam, Marie found herself wishing it had. It would have confirmed the words that now filled her with guilt, she had said too much, and regretted it, in the same way her littlest boy would be forever doing as he grew.

Sunlight streamed into the dinning room through the window behind where Ben always sat, the tears in her eyes made the room waver as she slowly returned to the table.

“Mama,” the soft voice made her dab her eyes, then look into the round worried face. Hoss continued almost to low to be heard. “A-Adam, he-he don’t mean no dis- a- er- um, no harm, mam’ma, jes’ sometimes his mouth don’t wait fer his brain, I um, sorta hear’ed Pa say to em’ afore. Please don’t cry, I know Adam’s gonna feel real bad bout’ this, an, he-he’s gonna come back an’ pologise’ right quick.”

The boy shyly slid from his chair re-righting her chair, and came over to put his arms around her and hugged. His mother returned the hug squeezing lovingly and warmly, ever so grateful for this gentle little peacemaker.

Her baby boy, mouth still aquiver bottom lip pushed out intended to garner sympathy, big sparkling drops perched in just the right spot on his lower lashes, chin tucked way down. All the time looking up through his lashes, everything about him pointed to a very, wounded child. Sunshine was restored as she released Hoss and leaned in to kiss the sweet oatmeal plastered cheek. “Mama is sorry, but you will not do that again . . . Will you?” The instant smile vaporized the forlorn pout, eyes sparkling once again, in an entirely different way. He put his hand to his mount then threw her a kiss.

Adam was in the barn, in the midst of a temper tantrum that would rival all and any little Joe might come up with. Saw horse, buckets, empty grain sacks, wheel barrow, rakes, feed scoops, brushes; nothing that wasn’t a permanent fixture or nailed down escaped his wrath. As his fury worked out of his system, and the straw floated around, down and over him, he stood huffing and puffing, hair all mussed, shirt- tail out fists clenched so tight his fingernails dug into his palms. Looking down he slowly opened them and wiped his grimy hands down the front of his pants. Feeling so much better he then swiped the sweat and dust from his face on his shirtsleeve and for the first time took notice of the aftermath of his rage.

Falling back against a stall wall he slid down to the floor, a huge groan reverberated from the tips of his toes to his mouth. Hoss appeared at the barn door “Ut-Oh, ah, Adam, you alright?”

“For the next few minutes.” Came the miserable reply, Adam leaned around the stall to peer at Hoss. “You alone?”

‘Uh huh, Mama’s busy getting her en’ lil’ Joe cleaned up.” He crept closer, a wary look on his chubby face. “Adam, hows cum’ ya gotta alus’ get so all mad en’ stuff, ya shudden’ auta’ talked ta Mama like ya done- Boy! I sure hope she don’t tattle on ya to Pa, per’aps’ ya auta go say sorry, quick like, cause, she en’ Hop Sing en’ me’s gonna be going to see the Presi-dent. ”

Adam ran his hand wearily over his face and in the most patient voice he could muster at this point he once again tried to explain. “Hoss, how maanay times do I have to explain it. He is not President Washington!”

“We-ll, mebbe’ he is an mebbe’ he ain’t bu-”

“Don’t say ain’t, say isn’t.”

“You don’t zackly’ know what he isn-et’. . . anyhows’ yer the one what gotta be doin’ the splainin, and lots off it ifn’ ya axks’ me.” The now smug Hoss sauntered back out into the sparking sunshine.

“ Did I ASK you?. . . Humph.” He snorted with a righteous nod of his head.

With a snarl Adam stood up, shoving his shirt- tails back in he went about restoring the inside of the barn, stomping all the while. Just as he placed the last harness back on its peg he heard his name being called. With a disgruntled sigh he straightened himself up, pushing his hair back in place he stepped out into the yard.

“You called me?” With one hand shielding his eyes he stood in his place.

“Yes come here please, Adam, I do not like having to shout across the yard.” Her voice was cool, yet still held a bit of an edge.

Slowly, almost to the point of insolence he dragged himself to where she stood on the veranda his face plastered with that famous mask of his. Marie swallowed her smirk it wouldn’t do to antagonize him any more than necessary before she made her instructions clear. “Adam, as you know I have to go make a call on the Washington’s.” She watched his eyes flicker towards his younger brother standing slightly behind and to the left of her.

Adam nodded, “Yes the elderly couple from Florida . . . the one’s who-”

The superior frost the words carried were not lost. Marie interrupted before the by now old and warn out disagreement between her two older sons began one more time. “Yes, they are the couple, now I will be helping set the house to rights, and Hop Sing and Hoss are going to help turn over and get the garden going, it is a bit late but Hope Sing has graciously taken up some of his abundant vegetables to share and they will be planting them. That unfortunately leaves no one to keep Joe, so you are the likely candidate.”

Adam’s eyes near popped out of his head, hands waving wildly in front of his face. “Oh no! Not again.” He stomped his foot defiantly, “No, no, no!”

Marie folded her arms over her chest, waiting for him to subside. “Fine, then get on your pony and try to catch your father and when you do, if you do, be sure to tell him you flat out refused to obey the instructions HE left, before and after you flew into one of your fits of temper!”

Face as red as strawberry jam, Adam slammed his palms up and down on his thighs, his teeth gritting so tight they were in danger of cracking. He had not had a fight like this with his stepmother in a long time and he found his anger hard to harness once it got to this point. Turning his back he stormed away a few feet then spun back. “Are you telling me, my father, is taking me for granted? That all I am around here is a glorified baby sitter? That he left without me . . . before I even had a chance to speak to him, just so I could be stuck with . . . with your baby . . . yet again?” The words spilled out his voice getting higher and tighter.

Hoss ran from behind Marie. Fists cocked. He headed for Adam. “Adam, you betta quit, right now afore I-”

Marie’s hand flew to her face, her mouth wide open. Hop Sing came up behind her carrying Joe, who clapping joyously at seeing both his brothers, wiggled so Hop Sing had to put him down. The little boy jumped up and down arms reaching he raced best his little legs managed to fly past Hoss and fling himself around Adam’s legs.

“Dum-dum, Dum-dum, Dum-dum!” he squealed. Adam looked like he was going to explode like one of those Volcanoes, in his books.

“I’M NOT . . . DUM- DUM!!!!!!!!” he screamed, face contorted and eyes wide pools of molten amber.

His tiny face expressing utter shock Joe released his hug, lip quivering, tears sprung up and ran down his face, as he sat down abruptly, staring up at Adam.

“Now, see what ya’ done! Aint, ya got, one feelen’ fer nobody?” Hoss disgustedly shook his head as he scooped up their little brother. “Don’t ch’ pay him no mind, little brother, he’s jes mad cause he aint all growdey up as he thinks he is.”

“Aaaagggggg” Adam put his hands to his head while stamping his feet and screamed all the louder. Once again in one of his renowned fits of rage. Joe began to wail, holding his own head.

Marie stood there, wondering if her family had all lost their senses. Perhaps it had been too much for them with the weather taking so long to come around; she herself was bone weary, after having spent these years out here, the long passage from one season to another still took its toll on her.

“Boys, please come inside, there is no need to display this kind of nonsense in the middle of the yard, what will your father say?”

Hoss marched determinedly past her into the great room Joe still yowling up a storm, in spite of his efforts to comfort him. Adam still fuming and snorting hesitated for a few moments then stomped in past her to fling himself into his father’s chair.

Joe stopped yelling only to begin hiccupping, rubbing his watery eyes and pouting at Adam. Adam chose to ignore all those in the room; instead he stared intently at the ceiling, Lips folded in on each other, the fingers of his right hand drummed along the arm of the chair. Every fiber of his being stating he was just spoiling for a fight.

Marie calmly shut the door depriving the prying eyes of the few hands, whom, had been drawn to the ruckus-taking place in the yard.

“Now,” she began softly, taking Joe into her own arms and sitting down in the blue chair. Placing Joe in her lap she brushed back the curls that were now damp and sweaty off his face. Placing a soothing kiss on his cheek, she whispered, “Everything is alright now baby, Adam is not angry any more,” looking pointedly with a great deal of emphasis right at her eldest son, “Am I right Adam?”

Throwing up his hands Adam shook his head, closing his eyes momentarily, “Sure, why not, what on earth would I have to be angry about?”

“We can skip the sarcasm, if you don’t mind.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to answer back ‘oh but I do mind, I mind very much!’ for once he thought better and smiled sweetly, “But of course.”

Joe sniffled, looking up at his mama then back at his brother, Hoss meanwhile nervously chewed on his lip. With one great shuttering sigh the tyke slid off her lap and toddled over to Adam who without really thinking about it lifted him to his own lap. Joe squirmed around and kneeling up gave Adam a big hug and very sloppy kiss. Just like that the fight was gone out of him, and Adam just shut his eyes and shook his head in defeat.

“Alright, you win, Joe and I can find something to occupy us till you get back, right little buddy?” His eyes met with Joe’s and he could not help but smile at the love and adoration shining there.

“Uhh huh,” the little head nodded with conviction, Adam had said it, it must be so. Joe was just shy of two yet he already instinctively took all Adam said without question, even if most of the time he was way too young to understand what was being spoken.

Crisis resolved for the time being, the day went back on schedule, and in an hours time saw Adam, holding Joe in his arms as they waved off the welcoming crew heading for the Washington place. Adam could not help hoping once Hoss met the man he would be forced to give up this notion of his.

After a few hours, and a marginally successful lunch, Adam let Joe play with the big watering can his father surprised Hop Sing and Marie by purchasing. He had picked it up only the day before. Everyone had been so excited, Adam had to admit he enjoyed his turn at sprinkling the new tender sprouts much more like the soft spring rain, then flooding channels between the rows with a bucket, or going from plant to plant with the dipper. Joe now completely soaked amused himself with trying to move the can, which was almost as tall as he was, talking a mile a minute. Adam found it impossible not to laugh out loud as Joe leaned in and peered into the can in an attempt to see how much water was still there or scurrying around gathering pebbles, rather like a little chipmunk, to drop them into the can giggling at the plop as they hit the water.

Adam had spent a great deal of the day desperately trying to dissuade his baby brother from calling him Dum-dum, and articulate the proper word. When it was all too painfully clear Joe had no intention of changing his language skill in reference to Adam, the older boy struggled to get him to say aah-aah. Bad as it sounded it was by far better, then when they were in town or in the company of other young people, and Adam found himself squirming as he answered to the name ‘Dum-dum.’

Weary and frustrated at the futility of trying to change Joe’s mind, Adam sank onto the chair he had moved off the veranda to the far side of the yard so he could better sit and watch Joe under the shade of a great Pine tree and savor the sweet warm breeze. Head bent low propping his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, he pondered the way life seemed to be forever testing him, or was he just taking it all to seriously, as he was so often reminded.

The silence in the yard, but for the chirping and squabbling of a pair of chipmunks caught his ears, far off was the cackle and cluck of Hop Sings chicken flock, but where was the giggle, the singsong babble. Slowly he lifted his head staring at the spot he last saw Joe. A hap - hazard trail of empty little pots that had once held Hop Sings precious starter plants, pointed to the open kitchen door. Adam forced himself to walk slowly and confidently as he followed the tell tale dark splotches, along with Joe’s shoes, socks, grubby, soggy smock. How he got them all off was a mystery. Inside he found small muddy footprints, a muddy little handprint on the wall. The floor showed sign of something having been scraped across the length leaving small but very recognizable gouges.

As Adam, heart in his throat, rounded the corner to the dinning room to see into the great room, he swallowed. He had only stopped watching his brother for a few minutes, hadn’t he? Please God it was only a matter of minutes, however the sight before him gave credence to the fact he had been lost in thought closer to 20 minutes if not longer, more, than enough time for the fast moving toddler. During Adam’s absence of mind, Joe had successfully dragged the huge watering can along with him. Somehow managing to collect cups, mugs, and various small pots, bowls and heaven forbid a huge glass jar, he was blissfully proceeding to plant and water a variety of small weeds; plus the sad bedraggled’ remains of the vegetables that had, formally been, intended to be added to the family garden. The sight had it not been taking place all over the living area, the settee, the big plank table, the blue velvet chair, the hearth, and up at least 2 steps towards the second floor- could have been very funny and indisputably, was undoubtedly testimony to his baby brothers tenacity and determination, or just plain ol’ Cartwright stubborn streak.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Even in the face of such splendor and majesty as nature lay at his feet, Ben was having trouble, as he found his concentration kept drifting.

“I should have waited, I never should have gone off and left Marie to face Adam.”

He would just have to find a way to set things right, this trip needed his attention now. With a huge sigh, Ben then turned his horse, as he had no need to see anymore of this sector to know he wanted it. He headed down to the trading post where a man by the name of Kline was to meet him and finalize the deal. It would be late by the time he reached home too late to explain to Adam, in fact, he was hoping to be too late to explain to anyone.

Mr. Wallace Kline, was called away, he left a note explaining that should Ben Carwtright wish to see this venture through he would be back in the area in a months time, and would hold his offer as first choice, unless he hear otherwise from him. Reaching the tiny post not more than a one-room shack, Ben found the note waiting. Closing his eyes, drawing in his breath to gain a few moments for control, he felt his fist clenched round the crumpled paper, “Why not?” He growled. The small man behind the counter meekly shrugged. He was not about to engage this huge, angry man with such piercing dark eyes, and obviously looking rather dangerous at the moment. Ben dropped the wad of paper on the counter, ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair, the temples showing predominant silver streaks. “I am sorry to have upset you, do you have some paper and pencil, I need to let Mr. Kline know I am still very interested, when will the trapper come by and pick up the mail?”

The little man cleared his throat, now a bit less nervous, “Ahem, well,” he pulled at his apron, “Fact is he is due ta-marra.’” He smiled thinly as he scrounged for the paper, pulling the pencil out from above his ear, handing it to Ben, quickly putting distance between them.

Ben frowned and glanced at him, mind turning in all kinds of directions, absently wondering at his strange behavior. With just a moments pause to grasp the right words, he dashed off his reply and nodding he folded it and handed it back. “Please see this gets out.”

With a nod, Ernie Sparks, received the paper and put a wax seal over the fold then placed it off to the side near a sign roughly printed rather haphazardly stating ‘Any thang’ goin’ any wars’ Ben again shook his head today seemed fraught with side tracks. “Thank You, I will be back.”

Once outside he looked up at the sun, no luck here either, now he would make it home. He could not in all good conscious deliberately delay, after all, that would be wrong, and wasn’t he always telling his sons about right and wrong, and sins by omission. With a tap on his leg, he set his hat back on and began his return trip, now more than ever under pressure to come up with a solution that will not end with either his son, Adam, his wife or himself any more pained by perceived slights, unaware of the chaos waiting for him at home.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Adam was hopelessly mired down with little Joe’s endeavors, the tiny face all smeared with mud, the sodden diaper hanging on the absurdly narrow hips, by who knows what. Water, water was everywhere, for the moment he just raised his brow and sighing he sank down on the floor next to the table and helped his baby brother pull out and repot, then re-water the remains of what ever it had been. Little Joe giggled and patted the soupy mud puddle on the table, nodding and babbling with satisfaction, this project was so much more fun now that he had big brother helping him. “Wuv u Dum-dum, my fiks fwow,” declared Joe, his eyes bright, sparkling with glee, mud on his nose, smeared all over him in fact. Joe pushed a teacup in front of Adam, “More . . .” He insisted bouncing and patting Adam on the sleeve. Together they raised the big silver colored can and watched as the shower of drops rained down to splash onto then run along and off the tabletop. “My like that!” he held his little hand under the spout as the water fell like raindrops across his palm he grinned happily at Adam.

”Witle Joe all wet” He rubbed the mud over his little chest and giggled wildly.

As Adam grinned back he knew it was no use to argue, for at this moment the name was more than appropriate. “Dum-dum, boy if that isn’t the truth! Right about now, I don’t see any name that fits better.”

With that Adam placed the can back down at their side as a deeper grin of wild abandon crossing his face he patted the sludge with great conviction, spattering both of them. Little Joe caught off guard at first frowned, then got that gleam in his eye, the one they all dreaded, his little hands came down and mud went everywhere.

As he wiped the gobs from his left eye he felt a big plop slide down his collar in the back. Thus effectively sobering Adam, enthusiasm, drained measurably.

“Uhh, little buddy I think we are finished planting for today.”

“I can assure you! . . . That is an understatement!”

Adam shot to his feet. There just inside the doorway was his father, looking less than pleased with his eldest.

“Oh, Hi Pa!” came the squeak.

Little Joe let out an animated squeal struggling to get up and run to his Papa. Although hampered somewhat by the diaper which slid all the way down and tripped him up in his haste.

Before Ben could take a step further or Adam react. Joe, had recovered and naked except for his lavish mud covering, leapt into his father’s arms.

Papa, Papa, Papa,” he sang out, “Dum-dum-” He pointed to the sickly smiling older boy, who had dropped his chin down, fussing with his ear and furiously chewing on the inside of his left cheek.

“Dum-dum . . . ” It came out deep and low. Adam flinched, those two small words, spoken in that way, said more than a thousand roaring lectures. This did not alter the fact that he would be on the receiving end of one before this day was over or worse for that matter.

“Care to explain this?” Ben moved all the way into the room and rounded the settee unable to stop himself he drew in a deep unsettling breath, which he pushed back out through his nose creating an ominous growling quality. Carefully he let himself down in his red leather chair, how this had escaped the mayhem he did not venture to guess only thanked God.

Adam had raised his head to once again look, shaking it dismally he swung out his arms, what could he offer that would make a lick of sense, ah yes, a lick, he wrinkled his nose at his choice of thoughts and words it was more than likely a good licking was looming ahead in the not to distant future.

Inspiration, perhaps misguided inspiration, jumped into his frantic mind but nevertheless, he was inspired.

“W-we-ll, ya see Pa, um-it- it sorta is your fault.”

“Mine!” the shout startled Joe who immediately clung tighter to Ben forcing the ooze through his father’s shirt, making contact with his skin. Ben dropped his eyes down, the burning anger dissolving into a look of weary resignation, grimacing as he shook his head. Not bothering to look back up, but continuing to look into the happy little face, now feeling safe. Ben pressed on. “Adam, I would like for you to clarify that last statement, and not in your well practiced method of circles and half twists, I am not in the mood to decipher your half truths from your adroit sidesteps. Do I make myself clear?” his voice and face were deceptively mild as he looked down on his baby, naked, covered with mud, happily bouncing in his lap and squishing his hands open and closed fascinated at the way the mud peeked out between his tiny fingers.

Adam backed up and slid down into the blue chair, careful to remove the little china cup, brimming with mud and one dead dandelion, before he sank into the back of the chair and stared at his brother, lost for the moment in the same fascination.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sun shown down on another day resplendent with dew and sparkling color, greener green, blue that jumped out at you, yellow, pink, all vying for first notice. After last nights return, Hoss wisely approached his brother slowly with great trepidation. Adam had his back to him he was deeply entrenched in working in the garden. Just the tip of the iceberg of chores set for him. Hoss had not seen him at breakfast as Adam had only taken time to eat a biscuit begrudgingly shoved into his hand by Hop Sing, with a long string of words it was better he did not understand.

Still a safe distance away Hoss watched Adam’s stiff movements, they spoke loud and clear as to what Hoss sadly had suspected after yesterday, Adam was very sore. Quietly he came and knelt next to Adam one row over, his brother’s face was pale the slightest tint of pink, still lingered over the high cheek bones, stains although wiped away caught the expert eye, he was intently focusing on the weeds between and around each plant in the row. Without a word Hoss began to weed the row he was in, chancing a timid look towards Adam every few minutes. When the silent intrusion was too much Adam without looking in his direction spoke “Come to see how bad it is, and gloat?” The sharp bite, oozing with criticism moved further ahead of Hoss; obviously intended to widen the space so he would not be tempted to look and see the smirk or satisfaction on his younger brother’s face. Too bad, for there was no smirk, only sad blue eyes that sought forgiveness and reassurance.

His face also held a frown of disillusionment, he should have known better than to doubt Adam.

“Awww, Adam, no need ta call me a goat- sides.’” Hoss hesitated fingering the remains of the small weed he had just plucked.

Adam sat back on his heels, immediately correcting his mistake, a soft hiss escaped before he could mask it. With a few quick blinks, he cleared his eyes, and then looked back at the woebegone younger boy a few feet behind on the other side of the pole beans.

“So what then?” he asked suspiciously, dark eyes growing darker, he studied Hoss’ posture. “Hoss, Something the matter?”

With slow deliberate movements he rose to his own feet, in doing so he discretely tried to shift in a way that eased his blaring discomfort, the aftermath of the ‘discussion,’ the one he had with his father before breakfast time, the one Ben so strongly impressed upon him, in relationship to his disregard to his responsibilities, on not thinking first, putting great emphases on the proper time not to and to daydream last but not least allowing his actions to not only copy a two year old, but encourage willful acts of destruction, pertaining to the inside of his home and Hop Sings garden plants . He had made a strong point in reinforcing the consequences to one who disregards these matters.

Hoss rose slowly to meet his brother, but averted his eyes, so as not to make Adam feel any worse than he already did.

“Um, y-you, wuz, right Adam, bout’” Hoss shrugged tossing the little weed to the side. Adam drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes he was in no mood to play games, not today; with an exaggerated sigh he put his hands on his hips, a perfect reproduction of his father earlier that morning.

“Out with it . . .!”

“Umm, see it- its well,”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose, the sun was now high enough over the tree line to highlight the two figures and feel the warmth climb up his back, it only heightened his need to get this over and get back to his many assigned chores for today.

“Okay, oh, okay, ya don’t gotta push me.” Hoss wiped at his eyes. “Mis-mister Wa-washin- tin- he-he weren’t the presdi- dnt- no how, dind’t look nuthin like them picters in your books, he-he wuz all scrawny like, n’ weezin, real mean too!” He gulped at the memory. “Why, me n’ Hop Sing had ta do his DANG! (Oops). His brow went up at the look Adam shot him. “Sorry, I meant silly ol’ garden, a whole bunch a times afore he was happy.” Sighing he continued “I sure was glad when Mama said it was time to go home.”
A lopsided smile played on his lips, “Oh, an Adam, ifn’ ya wanna, ya can call me Dum-dum.” This time the smile was hopeful, it accompanied the earnest apology in his eyes.

Adam shook his head ruefully, a smile pulled at his own mouth and heart. With great care he stepped across the row and reached to put his arm around Hoss’ broad now slumping shoulders giving him a much needed, yet surprised hug.

“No, Hoss.” he spoke softly, “Lets just say- for the time being, our little brother was right on target, in what he said my name was.” With a somewhat selfconcious chuckle he added, “Or perhaps more correctly, you could say – my name right about now is MUD.”

Ben Cartwright had come into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup, the voices floating in through the window gave him pause, so he stepped up to peer out, he couldn’t help but listen to the exchange, while remaining unseen, a warm knowing smile spread over his face. “No, my son, you are definitely not, never were or will be a Dum-dum. However there are times . . .” Turning back he chuckled as he placed his once again empty cup on the dry sink, just as two tiny arms attached themselves to his knees. Bending down, he lifted his baby into his arms his eyes catching sight of Marie in the doorway he winked. Little Joe giggled and as he caught sight of his brothers outside he pointed excitedly.

“Ha-ha, Dum-dum- H-oth!”

The sudden scolding came from two different directions at once!

“No, Little Joe, that is not right, your big brother’s name is Adam . . . Say A d a m.”

Joe pouted as he looked from one parent to the other, with a stubborn look and defiant shake of his head.
In a very negative motion, repeating, “Dum-dum” his little face fierce, eyes just daring them to contradict him.

Ben sighed resignedly handing him over to his mama. “Well, you can’t say we haven’t tried.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

One month later Ben and Adam rode into the yard both tired to the bone. Adam had spent the last 3 days at his father’s side as they rode every grueling foot of the new section of land Ben purchased from Mr. Kline. The trip being of such importance Ben had given permission for Adam to ride Lonesome, a recently added mount to his slowly growing string of horses. Lonesome was found wandering in one of his pastures. His only sign of possible prior ownership was a tattered loop of rope dangling from around his neck. For months they had been searching for whomever, had lost or abandoned this even-tempered animal. Thus the name Lonesome, for he indeed seemed lonesome for his former companion. Adam and he hit it off right away, and the pride and pleasure that shown out of those eyes was not lost on Ben or Charlie the foreman, who had a secret hand in convincing Ben of this decision. The grateful wink that passed between boss and foreman was lost on the boy as he put the big roan through a few test paces.

Standing at 15 and ½ hands and wider across the back by what felt like miles, Adam determined he would not let on or give into the fact this trip astride Lonesome with his off lead gait, was anything but supremely satisfying, as he handled him with grace and such smooth confidence. Due to the fact his father had tried to prepare him this trip would be arduous, Adam had refrained from replying he had already accompanied his father on far more arduous trips and under far more difficult and dangerous situations, when he was a child, did not stop the need for Adam to bite his lip and paste what he hoped would pass as a nonchalant yet grown up_ _expression on his face.

Ben Cartwright prided himself in a number of things during his lifetime, his honest word, his moral code of ethics, his inner strength, his inborn sense of fair play, his refusal to give into prejudice; his respect of his fellow man regardless of race or color. Of these qualities Ben was most admired by his faith and love for his sons, and his ability to know them, inside and out, or so he thought.

Adam had preformed beyond what was expected of him, but he always did. Ben watched as unobtrusively as possible, shifting position, tending the fire, alluding to the wispy unpredictable smoke, being the reason he sniffed and blinked so often. As each night by the firelight Adam went over and over the notes he had scribbled down in the little pad, he kept in his shirt pocket doggedly correcting his calculations or re-wording a thought or suggestion, as he and Ben discussed the pros and cons of the lay of the land and which section would yield the best advantage for them.

The last few miles almost proved his downfall. Stubborn and obstinate to the nth degree, not unlike the man at his side, Adam refused to give in to the suggestion they stop to take a little breather before reaching home. But for sheer willpower he remained upright, more asleep than awake, Ben’s hand hovering slightly behind his son’s back at the ready to catch him when he surrendered, but Adam made it. As he slipped slowly from the saddle, Adam staggered ever so slightly back, still un-use to the distance difference to the ground between Lonesome and his faithful mount Dodger, so named because of his habit to dodge to the left when startled.

The foreman, Charlie who offered to take the horses met Ben. Ben remained for a few minutes to chat with him.

Adam, more saddle sore than he cared to admit, covered with dust, staggering the first few steps, proceeded with the slightest limp towards the front door. The hot bath his father had suggested was already on his mind even as Ben spoke. The luxury of his soft, sweet smelling feather mattress called to him.

Marie sitting in the blue chair, sewing in her lap, looked up as the front door slowly creaked open, and the sound of dragging feet told her they had returned. She smiled warmly at the dirty obviously ready- to- collapse figure putting up a brave front.

The tiny boy playing with his blocks at her feet scrambled up with a delighted yelp, arms outstretched in greeting to the big brother he had missed so. Adam despite his fatigue bent and caught him in his arms swinging him up; Joe clamped his legs around Adam’s middle. He swallowed the groan as he asked,
“Did ya miss me ya little varmint?” but he instantly retracted it and with a grin asked “Did ya miss me little Buddy?”

Little Joe enthused as he bounced in Adam’s arms, “Uhuh-uhuh-uhuh- . . . A-A-d-a-m” wild curls of gold going around and up and down, as he pronounced his well practiced new word, it was accompanied by a huge hug and big very dramatic smack of a kiss.
.
All the exhaustion, aches and pains, flowed away in a gush, leaving room only for the mountain size lump that lodged in his throat, Adam found he had to blink furiously. “I sure did miss yoou to, little brother,” was all he was able to get out in a croaking whisper.

Ben had come in at that moment. Spying his father Joe excitedly chirped “A d a m.” Patting his brother’s shoulder he popped his left thumb in his mouth his right arm over Adam’s other shoulder the tiny hand tapping gently.

“What is this,” Ben boomed, faking a scowl, “No kiss and hugs for your Papa?”

Joe raised his head from his resting spot with a firm no shake. “A d a m” he repeated then put his thumb back and lay his head down.

Ben felt his own eyes suddenly blur, he covered swiftly with a cough, stopping for a briefest moment as he passed them to place a soft kiss on each head, not the least bit concerned it might embarrass his oldest. Ben covered the distance to the open arms waiting for him by the hearth. “Well, at least someone is glad I’m home.” He was swiftly engulfed in the arms of his wife where upon they engaged in a deep passionate kiss.

“Hey, Pa, Adam, yer home . . .”

Ben reluctantly pulled back, to smile as Hoss came down the stairs. “Yes, we are, and I am happy to tell you, very glad indeed to be back, I might add. What about you Adam?”

He turned to see Adam had not moves so much as an inch, just seemed to be rooted to the spot, arms wrapped around his baby brother, dark hair resting on top golden. Eyes closed, rocking ever so gently to the tune running through his head, it was easy to see Adam was someplace far away.

Hey Pa, did ya hear what lil’ Joe done learned to say?” The eager voice cut into his own drifting thoughts, it brought him back.

“What was that Hoss?” Ben asked already knowing, but wanting to give Hoss the chance to be the one to tell him, in so doing devoting his total loving attention towards him.

“Why Pa, he duned’ learned to say Adam!”

“Really?”

“Yep, he surely did, I dunn’ spent a whole bunch a time teachin’ him, to say it, right Mama?”

Hoss puffed his chest out, then blushing admitted “W-well, I spect’ Mama helped some.”

Both parents reached out and together they brought him into a strong hug. Marie’s beautiful laughter was followed by, “Yes, I might have helped out a little, but you were the one who did not give up, and you are the one who actually got him to say it.”

“I’m mighty proud of you Hoss, mighty proud, that was a wonderful thing to do for your brother Adam, and for little Joe.”

Adam’s eyes slowly opened as the conversation at the hearth unfolded seeping into his brain. Unable to control his quivering lip, he managed to give Hoss a watery little smile, coming over he put his free arm around Hoss, as his gaze went from one member of his family to the other he felt so very blessed at that moment.

“I- I don’t know how a Dum-dum like me was ever blessed enough to be given a family like I have, God sure works in wonderful ways.” This declaration from shy reserved Adam brought an instant reaction.

They all burst into laughter, tears in each set of eyes, deep brown, glittering emerald, dark hazel brow, crystal mountain water blue, and hazel green specked with gold.

Then turning, with arms linked as one, they moved in answer Hop Sings command that they come to the table before everything dried up and he threw it away and went back to China! Only to be stopped by the little man, arms crossed, face set in his imperious scowl . . . “No food for dirty men! . . .You go wash
Chop! Chop!” With a stern nod that said no arguments, he spun and disappeared into his kitchen.

“Well,” Ben looked at the three faces with a twinkle in his eye, then took Joe from Adam and handed him back to Marie. Reaching out with one arm, he encircled Adam and patting Hoss on the shoulder, reassured him, “Don’t look so sad son, it won’t take but a few minutes for us men, to get cleaned up, as I expect Hop Sing has already seen to it there is plenty of hot water for washing. Am I right A D A M? He over pronounced the name. With a huge grin, his dimples shining, shoulders suddenly straight, Adam concurred

“Your right Pa, it isn’t proper for men, to come to a table looking like this, lead the way.”
The swagger in the slightly staggering steps, the dirty face, the attempt to hold himself up, at last put to rest the term Dum-dum, in regards to Adam Cartwright. With a warm strong arm bracing his shoulders, he headed out to the washroom, less Hop Sing make good his threat!

The End

*This story is dedicated to two delightful little girls who love to plant and water flowers.
My Granddaughter Maddy, and Ella’s niece Dana.

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