The Asylum

By:  Sherri P.

10/2002

 

 

 

“Everybody out!”

 

Joe blinked his eyes rapidly as he shook the confusion from his head. Scratching his arm, he could feel his body being overrun by fleas, at least that’s what they looked like when he held his arm in front of his face. Moving his legs in front of him, he slowly eased his body into an upright position and took a cursory glance around him, trying to figure out where he was.  Putting his hands down, he realized that he was sitting on the floor of a moving wagon.  Looking up from his position on the floor he could see that there were bars surrounding the wagon with a poorly built bench taking up the interior of the wagon wall.  From what Joe saw, it was enough for him to realize that he was in a prison wagon.  Sitting up quickly, Joe felt a stab of pain shoot through his head sending a spell of dizziness through his body.   As he slowly eased himself into a sitting position, he dared to take a look across the wagon to a man sitting on a bench just above him.  The man was clawing in the air making a guttural-noise with his throat when suddenly he lunged towards Joe.  Jumping from his spot on the floor, Joe relaxed his muscles slightly as he watched the man be jerked back to his seat by a taunt chain that had encircled his waist and arms.  Still on edge from his spot on the floor, Joe watched as the man leaned back and began to rock back and forth as he continued to claw at the air.  Looking quickly away, Joe’s eyes rested on a rather pretty young blonde girl dressed in a light colored smock.  Smiling at her, his smile quickly disappeared when she turned to face him. He sat in shock watching as her mouth twitched into a grimace just as she threw her head back and gave a muted scream.  Swallowing hard, Joe tried not to look into her glazed eyes as he leaned his head back against the bench.  Just as his head connected with the wood, he felt tears come to his eyes when the wood hit a spot on the back of his head, sending daggers of pain down into his back. A headache already in full swing, Joe reached his hand through his hair and found the spot where he could feel a large knot beginning to swell.  Feeling the sticky feeling of blood, Joe pulled his hand forward and could see the fresh blood that was streaked across his fingertips.  Realizing that was where his headache was coming from, he leaned forward and placed his head into his hands while trying to figure out how in the world he ended up in a prison wagon. 

 

The last thing he remembered was being in the buckboard on the road to Carson City to pick up a load of supplies that weren’t available in Virginia City.  There was a wagon in the distance, but he hadn’t even reached it when he faintly remembered a stab of pain before he was knocked from his wagon seat to the ground.  Everything beyond that was a blur.  How and why he was where he was, he didn’t know.  As Joe tried to organize the thoughts in his head, he could feel a firm tug on his legs.  Looking down he saw that his ankles were encased in heavy steel irons. Reaching down, he tried yanking on them, but when the girl next to him flung herself to the floor he realized that his chain was part of a larger chain that was linked to the other prisoners.  Slowly he pushed himself up from within the limited confines of the wagon and tried to get his bearings as he peered through the bars.  Inching forward, Joe saw that the wagon door was open, allowing a stream of sunshine to filter into the doorway of the wagon.  Blinking his eyes rapidly, Joe looked down on the poor excuse of a man, who at that moment was hollering at him.

 

“I told you get out, you lazy cus!”  Reaching across the wagon, the guard pulled on the larger mound of chains that were attached to Joe, causing him to lose his balance from where he stood and tumble back down on the floor.  Banging his head on the same spot as before, Joe lay there groaning while he saw stars float across his vision.

 

Feeling the sensation of his body being drug by the chains from the wagon, Joe couldn’t help but snarl, “I’m coming!  Give me a chance to get to my feet!”  Sliding his bottom across the floor of the wagon, he made his way over to the edge of the wagon, and dropped his feet down onto the ground before pulling himself to a standing position. Rubbing his head, Joe began to look around the surroundings to try and place where they had stopped. Before him stood a large imposing building built entirely of wood, with no windows on any part of the building, other than the door.  Surrounding the back of the building was a fence about six feet tall enclosing the back section of the yard, with a spindly tree occupying the center of the ground.  But it was the lack of windows on the building that captured Joe’s attention.  Feeling a tug on the chains around his feet, Joe was relieved to discover that the chains had not been attached around his waist or wrist like it had been done with the others.  As he stumbled across the ground, a large grizzly guard came over to where Joe was and began to poke him in the back.  Trying to avoid looking into his face, he couldn’t help but see the ugly scar that spread from his cheekbone to the bottom of his chin.  Joe shivered slightly as the guard put his face into his and called out to the other guard, spewing bad breath, “Hey Frank! We got ourselves a looker in this one, look at them purty green eyes!”

 

Smelling the other guard rather than seeing him, Joe tried to pull away from their physical inspection of him, when he found himself being grabbed from behind by the one called Frank.  Nearly gagging from the stench of body odor that seemed to saturate his body Joe took a glance at him and wished that he didn’t.  Some of his teeth was missing and were in the process of rot, while his hair didn’t look like it had been cut in a year.  Trying to struggle out of his grasp, Joe found himself thrust to the ground.  As he picked himself slowly from the ground, he heard the guards continue to talk among themselves.  “Ya ought to feel his muscles, he’s stronger than he looks.”  Trying not to look at the second guard, Joe couldn’t help but notice the black patch that covered his left eye.  Deciding he didn’t like the direction the current conversation was headed, Joe decided to find out where he was.   Pulling himself up from the ground, Joe asked, “Where am I?”

 

Spitting out some saliva that landed down near Joe’s feet, Frank wiped his mouth before answering, “This new home of yours is the Reno Insane Asylum, just built recently for the likes of you.”

 

 “INSANE ASYLUM?!”  Stunned, Joe was speechless as he tried to absorb what he was told.  “Wait a second, what am I doing here? I don’t belong here!”

 

“Sure you do Tom.  Got your paperwork right here.”

 

“No wait, see now, there is your problem.  My name is Joe Cartwright.”

 

“You have proof on you?”

 

“Yes I do.”  Reaching into his jacket, Joe was relieved when he felt his wallet.  Knowing that the proof inside would set him clear, he pulled out the paper where he kept his name, handing the folded piece of paper to the guard.

 

“Tom Jones of Carson City.”

 

“What!  Let me see that!”

 

Handing Joe the sheet of paper, he turned white as he saw the writing on the paper clear as day, “Tom Jones of Carson City.”   Stricken by what he read, Joe argued, “Wait a sec, this isn’t even my handwriting, and this isn’t my name!  My name is Joe Cartwright!”

 

“Stop your arguing, Jones.  Join the rest of them.”

 

“No wait! I’m Joe Cartwright of Virginia City!  My pa is Ben Cartwright, of the Ponderosa!”

 

Seeing only the color red from the anger that was building up from within him, Joe’s thoughts had one goal in mind and that was to get out of this place. Balling his hand into a fist, Joe swung at the guard.  Easily the guard caught hold of Joe’s hand in his beefy hand, stopping him before he made contact.  Twisting the fist he had in his possession, the guard threw a blow of his own, catching Joe on the side of his face.  Already off balanced from the chains around his feet and his twisted hand, Joe fell hard to the ground.  Pulling on the chains, the guard yanked on them causing Joe’s face to rub against the ground.  “Get up boy, or there ain’t going to be much left to that purty face of yours.”

 

Realizing that at that moment there was nothing that he could do, Joe rolled over onto his knees and quickly stood up. Stoically he stood there, shaking in his determination to get out of this situation and get someone listen to his pleas when he felt a tug on his chains.  Looking up, Joe realized in surprise that the other prisoners were having their chains undone and were being corralled closer to the door.  Shuffling forward, Joe stood in line to have his undone also, not missing the glare of the guard who had punched him earlier.  Watching as the guards unlocked the chains and pulled the clamped manacle from his ankles, he could feel the weight drop away as he stood there looking up at the massive door in front of him.  He was staring at the one and only window that was on the door, properly barred up when he suddenly felt a sharp sting slice across his shoulder.  Crying out in shock, Joe felt his body being yanked as the guard shouted out to him, “Didn’t you hear us, get them clothes off now!”

 

Shooting a glare at the guard, Joe glanced over to where the other prisoners were standing.  There was the clawing man, already undressed down to his underwear and was in the process of removing those also.  Suddenly aghast at the thought of stripping down in front of these men, Joe stood there determined that he was not going to willingly remove his clothing.

 

“Hey Purty Boy! Didya hear me? Get them clothes off!”

 

Taking a look at their troublesome prisoner, the one guard motioned to Frank and began to advance towards Joe. Seeing the long black whip and the pair of iron handcuffs being picked up from the ground, Joe suddenly remembered the lack of chains around his feet. Slowly Joe began to back away from the guards then as he regained his balance, he began to pick up his feet and run.  The only thing on his mind was run from the building.  Just run.  Just as it felt that he was going to succeed, Joe felt a sharp stinging sensation strike him across the back.  Refusing to stop and submit to the pain, he continued to run stumbling over rocks and brush in his quest for freedom.  Suddenly he felt his body fall towards the ground as he faintly remembered the sound of the whip whizzing through the air before wrapping his feet in its sharp coil.  As he tumbled to the ground, he saw that his pursuers were almost upon him.  Crawling to his feet, he kicked the whip loose and before he could make it to his feet one of the guards came crashing towards him and with one vicious punch knocked him back to the ground.  Bravely he fought, but soon he was outnumbered with the two guards and despite the desperate attempt of his flight for freedom, Joe was caught, and now sprawled out on the ground, unconscious from a blow to his head

.

****************************

 

Dusting off his dark clothing, Adam peered out of the corral down the road looking for his youngest brother.  Getting irritated at their waiting, he couldn’t help but ask,  “Pa, when is Joe getting back from Carson City?”

 

Having already paced the length of the fence, Ben couldn’t help but express his frustration, “He should have been back hours ago.  Dang it!  Can’t that boy go into town and get back at a proper hour?”

 

Pulling his large, hulking frame from the edge of the water trough, Hoss tried to defray the anger that he knew had to be building up within Ben, “Pa, maybe he got caught up in town.”

 

“Hoss, I understand your concern for your brother, but he knew we needed those supplies tomorrow.”  Running his hand through his pepper-white hair, Ben continued, “Who do you think is going to unload the wagon when he gets home late tonight?”

 

“But, pa..”

 

“Pa nothing.  Hoss, I want you and Adam to ride into Carson City and bring home that brother of yours.  He and I are going to have a long conversation on responsibility when he returns.”

 

Slapping his hat against his leg, Ben turned and went back inside the house, knowing that his anger at the moment would have to be put to use somewhere other than working on paperwork.  Watching Ben stomp indoors, Hoss and Adam shrugged their shoulders as they entered into the barn to ready their horses for a trip into town.

 

 

*****************************

 

Groaning, Joe slowly regained consciousness as the darkness from his head faded away and was replaced with a tremendous ache between his eyes.  Blinking his eyes rapidly, it wasn’t until he moved his body that he realized that he was no longer laying on the rocky ground, instead a flat hard surface had taken its place.  Just by lifting his shoulder, he could feel the raw feeling on his back from where the whip earlier had sliced into him.  Slowly Joe moved his eyes around the room where he was held, noticing that there was nothing of interest in these four dingy walls, other than a bright candle in the corner.  There was a door that was located at the end of the bed where Joe laid, but there were no windows, nothing.  Hearing a noise that sounded like rats, Joe tried rolling over to pinpoint the noise.  But when he rolled over, he discovered with alarm that he couldn’t move his arms nor or legs. Struggling briefly, he strained his neck and looked down the table.  Gasping out loud, he discovered that his body was tied with leather bands to a table, the table he was lying on.  His wrists and ankles were trussed up, along with a leather band that was tugged tight across his chest and his legs.  Panicking, Joe didn’t like the feeling of confinement and the inability to move.  Fighting at the bonds that held him, he found out that no matter how hard he struggled the bonds remained steadfast.  Out of breath, Joe panted as he tried to catch his breath.  It was then that he saw that his own clothing had been replaced with a long gray shirt and a pair of trousers.  Disbelieving the situation he was in, he lay there as he listened to noises congregating at the door just outside of the small room where he was held.  Lying still on the bed, Joe cocked his head and watched the door from the corner of his eye.  The door swung open and the doorway was filled with the body of one of the guards, followed by a tall thin man.  Talking, they came over to where Joe lay. 

 

“Dr. Percale, this be Tom Jones,” the guard said, as he swatted a fly out of his face.  “Them papers that came with him judged him insane and gave us the right to rehabilitate him, whatever that means.”

 

Frowning, the new thin man looked down at Joe, who was glaring at him, “Why was he judged insane? ”

 

“Over in Carson City, he kilt his girlfriend and has a history of violence.  Some say that ain’t the first one he’s kilt, just no proof.”

 

Nodding, the thin man digested it all as Joe began to struggle once again at the bonds that were tying him down.  Clearing his voice, Joe spoke up, “Wait a sec, there’s been a mistake.  My name is Joe Cartwright.  Not Tom Jones.  I already told the guards that there has been some sort of mix up.”

 

With a look of boredom on his face, the doctor ignored what Joe had to say as he looked down at Joe, “My name is Doctor Howard Percale.  How are you feeling?”

 

“Damn it!  My name is Joe Cartwright.  Untie me!”

 

Looking over at the doctor, the guard flicked a piece of meat from his teeth as he glanced down at Joe before speaking, “He sez his name is Joe Cartwright, but the paper inside his wallet shows Tom Jones.”

 

“My name is JOE CARTWRIGHT!  Send someone to Virginia City and they can vouch for me!” Joe yelled, as he became even more frustrated with the fact that no one believed who he was.

 

“Calm down young man, you’re going to cause more trouble for yourself,” said Dr. Percale.

 

Ignoring the doctor, Joe was more intent on getting out of the restraints that held him down rather than listen to the prattle of the doctor.  Struggling, he watched as the doctor called out to someone in the hall.  Still thrashing around, fighting at the binding on his arms and feet, Joe couldn’t hear what was being said, until he saw someone walk into the room.  Peering around the doctor, Joe could see a short, stout dark-haired woman walk into the room holding in her hand a thick, long needle filled with liquid in her hand.  Squirming within the restraints on the bed Joe began crying out, “No!  Get that away from me!”

 

Looking down at Joe with his beady eyes, the doctor explained, “We can’t have you here disrupting the others.  This will help you calm down and control yourself.”

 

“I’m fine!” yelled Joe, as the woman approached his bed.  “Get that away from me, I’ll calm down.”

 

Ignoring Joe, the doctor motioned over to one of the guards while he took the needle away from the woman.  “Help me push him over.”

 

Grabbing hold of Joe, the guard roughly grabbed him, and clamped his fingers into his side while twisting his side over as much as he could despite the restraints, while the doctor pushed down Joe’s trousers.  Watching Joe still struggling in his captive’s hand and cry out, the doctor felt no remorse as he tapped the needle, then roughly plunged the needle into the fleshy part of Joe’s buttocks.  Feeling the cold hands of the doctor then the stab of the needle, Joe could feel the fluid as the medicine flowed into his body.  Yanking the needle out, the doctor stepped aside and handed the needle back to the woman.  Turning back around he motioned to the guard to let him go, then turned back to Joe. “You should be feeling better soon.”

 

Embarrassed by the tears that began to fall involuntarily down his face, Joe could still feel the spot where the needle had invaded his body as he continued to cry out more softly, “My name is Joe Cartwright.  Joe Cartwright.  Where’s my pa.  Pa.  With the word “pa” on his lips, Joe slipped into unconsciousness.

 

***************************************

 

“Pa! Pa! Where are you?”

 

Ben wiped his hands on his pants as he rushed out of the barn, looking up into the concerned face of his middle son,  “What’s wrong Hoss?”

 

“We can’t find Joe, pa.  He never made it into Carson City, the clerk at the store said he never came in.  Adam went over to Virginia City to see if he went there instead.”

 

Sagging, Ben went over to the water trough and sat on the edge.  “What happened?”

 

“We don’t know pa, but I’m going to retrace the route that Joe might have taken on his way to Carson City to see if we missed any thing along the way.”

 

“Go get something to eat Hoss, and I’ll settle you a fresh mount while I get one for myself.”  Waving Hoss inside the house, Ben went into the barn to get their gear together for a ride back towards Carson City.

 

*****************************************

 

Slowly Joe woke up from the induced medicated sleep, feeling beneath him a lumpy bed.  Scratching at the mini-bug bites on his arms, he belatedly realized that he was free from any restraints.  Shivering in the darkness that overtook the room, Joe’s eyes adjusted to the room and he could see a thin sliver of sunshine that made it’s way across the floor from a crack near the ceiling.  Pulling his hands up to his face, he relished the feeling of the freedom although he could tell that his muscles were sore from the forced stretch and the ensuing struggle.  Rubbing at the raw spots on his wrist, Joe pulled himself to a sitting position and gasped as he felt the material from his shirt rubbed against the whip mark on his back.  Leaning his head against the wall, he saw that this room was no different than the room he was in earlier.  All walls and one door was his new habitat, while on the floor straw was littered around.  Feeling his stomach growl from hunger, Joe sat on the edge of the bed not sure what to do.  Slowly, he pulled himself upright and looked at the door before pushing himself from the bed to tug on the handle.  Locked.  The energy that he had collected to make it over to the door ebbed away as he moved back to his cot.  With nothing to do but wait, Joe was about to lay back down on the cot when he heard keys rattling at the door.  Turning around, he saw a guard stick his head in the doorway.

 

“Let’s go kid.  Git over here and follow me.” 

 

Stepping aside, the man waited for Joe to move over to the doorway.  Feeling the guard poke him in the back with his finger, he was pushed down the hall towards a door at the end of the hallway.  “Hold up a second.”  Grabbing the set of keys from his pocket, the guard selected one and then opened another door, calling out to the person inside.  “Time to go outside!”  A few seconds later, another man emerged from a cell and locked eyes with Joe. His eyes, which initially appeared lifeless, had a glitter of hope when they landed on Joe.  From what Joe could see, he apparently was a tall man at one time, but now was so stooped over that he was shorter than Joe was. Shuffling out of the building, Joe watched as the guard pushed the door open and shoved him from behind into the courtyard.  When a beam of sunshine fell on his face, he found he had to cover his face from the brightness of the sunshine.  Dropping his eyes to the ground, Joe couldn’t help it when he stumbled over rocks on the ground and fell into someone ahead of him.  Feeling himself being shoved backwards, Joe squinted and saw it was a rather skinny woman that he had run into. 

 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Joe apologized, as he stared at her.  Her blonde hair was matted and looked like huge knots ran through it as it hung down her back, apparently it hadn’t been combed in weeks.  Catching a glimpse of her eyes he could feel them piercing straight through him.  Uncomfortable, Joe dropped his eyes but looked up again when he noticed her still staring at him.  Moving out of her way, he looked up and realized that she wasn’t staring at him, rather just staring straight in front of her.  Stepping carefully around her, Joe began to move freely in the yard, free from his cell and from the chains and leather thongs that had bound him since his stay at this God-forsaken place.  Looking up at the sky, he noted that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but he was able to see a few birds flying up high in the sky above him.  With his eyes adjusted to the light, Joe took a moment to look around his surroundings.  Joe and the others had been herded into the courtyard that he had observed on his entry into the place.  Any chance of escape would be impossible from this location, with the six-foot fence surrounding them.  There was one tree in the middle of the yard, and it was of no use other than the bits of shade that were at that moment grabbed by the various inmates of the institution.  Looking at their garb, he noted that they were dressed as he was, with the same dull gray clothing.  Sighing, Joe walked around the yard trying to get as much fresh air in his lungs as possible.  Passing by the various occupants, Joe was still trying to figure out how in the world he ended up in this place, but mainly how in the world his wallet contained the name Tom Jones.  My name is Joe Cartwright, he chanted to himself.  They can’t take my name away from me.  My name is Joe Cartwright and my pa and brothers will find me, I know they will!  Hearing a noise next to him, Joe looked up from his musings and saw that in his wanderings he had ended up next to the man who occupied the cell next to him.  A little unsure as to whether or not to approach him or not, Joe decided that it didn’t harm anything to say hi. Hearing Joe’s voice, the man looked up and then around him before focusing his eyes back on Joe.  Clearing his voice, he answered back, “Hi.”

 

“My name’s Joe Cartwright.”

 

“Bob Miller.”

 

Unsure of what more to say, Joe stood there shifting from one foot to the other.  “Uh, how long have you been here?”

 

Ignoring the question, Bob looked up at Joe, suddenly it seemed put him in focus.  “You’re the one who arrived last night.  I heard ya yelling a lot and that ain’t good. Don’t make a fuss and they’ll leave you alone.”

 

“But I’m not supposed to be here!”

 

“I ain’t either, but I am and I’ve accepted my lot.  Best you can do, is the same.  Ain’t to bad once you get used to it.  Meals a couple of times a day, and we get to go outside during the day for exercise.”  As he flexed his biceps to show Joe what little muscle he had.

 

Trying to think of something to say a loud banging of a bell sounded over the courtyard.  Joe watched with a fixated stare, as the courtyard suddenly became alive with the rush of humanity rushing towards the doors. Following the mob indoors, Joe stopped in his steps as he observed the meal room.  Several long tables ran the length of the room, with planks set down on top of barrels for their seats.  Following the shuffling group, Joe looked ahead as each person grabbed a plate and then waited until the cook sloshed some sort of brown slop onto each dish.  Taking a whiff of it, Joe nearly gagged.  Carry the plate over to a table he tried to swish the substance around on his plate, although he couldn’t quite place the origin of the stuff.  It looked vaguely like oatmeal, but very lumpy.  Finding a place at an empty table, Joe found a fork and slowly dipped it into the mixture.  Segregating the lumps, he fished around in the mixture trying to pick up the fork and put it into his mouth.  As hungry as he was, he pushed his plate away from him, when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.  Glancing over, he saw that it was the man from the courtyard, Bob Miller. 

 

“Are you going to eat that?”

 

Grimacing, Joe shook his head, “No, I don’t know how…”

 

“May I have it?” Bob asked, interrupting the rest of what Joe was going to say.

 

“Help yourself.”

 

Grabbing the plate, Bob quickly switched his plate with Joe’s before digging into Joe’s food with a smile on his face.  Making a face, Joe grimaced and looked away studying the others in the room.  But what he saw, didn’t give him much hope.  All around him, there were people rocking back and forth, shaking, talking to them selves, and spilling out all sorts of foul language.  One woman kept getting up from her seat, and then would take her plate and move down a seat.  If someone was in a spot that she wanted, she would mumble then turn around and move back to the seat she originally came from.  Sitting there, Joe almost wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t a laughing matter considering he was a prisoner here also.  He was in the same predicament as these people.  Feeling an overwhelming feeling of sadness overtake him, it was quickly taken over by anger that he was even in this facility.  Hunched over in his seat Joe began to scan the room looking for the guards and a way out.  Counting two across the room, he looked around and saw that there was a door close to his table that looked to be close to the outside wall.  Moving around in his seat, Joe quietly pushed away from the table and started to get up.

 

“Don’t!” With oatmeal dripping from his lips, Bob grabbed hold of Joe’s arm in an attempt to keep Joe from getting up. 

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t leave this room.”

 

“But why?” Joe asked, frustrated with the lack of answers he was receiving.

 

Sitting there, Bob said nothing more other than, “Don’t” before turning back to his food and rocking back and forth in his seat.

 

Watching as Bob began the repetitive motion of rocking made Joe begin to wonder how sane the fellow really was.  Ignoring the caution given to him, Joe slowly got up from his seat with his plate in hand.   Looking around him, he took care to note where the guards were, and when they turned their heads the opposite direction, Joe took one step to the side, dropped the plate on a table by the door then stealthily pushed the door open before slipping through the doorway.  Panting quickly on the other side of the door, he peeked around the corner to see if anyone had noticed his removal from the room.  Gently pushing the door back into place, he turned around and leaned against the wall in an attempt to breathe easier.  Looking around him, he saw that he ended up in a hallway that stretched quite a distance both ways.  Trying to decide which way was out Joe could barely see a flicker of light down to the right.  Walking in that direction, Joe made sure he was quiet lest anyone was around to hear him.  It wasn’t until he rounded a corner that he found that he was closer to the source of light, the outdoors.  As he approached the door to the outside, he felt himself being grabbed from behind.  Letting out terrified yell a hand was clamped over his mouth before he was knocked to the floor, banging his head roughly on the hard surface.

 

*********************

 

 

“Pa, I don’t know where Joe could be.  He ain’t in Carson City, and as you heard, no one has seen him today.” 

 

Sitting on his buckskin horse, Ben pulled his horse to a halt and looked around him.  “We should have gone slower on our way to Carson City, we could have missed something on our way in.  But I was so sure that Joe was somewhere in Carson.”

 

Nodding his head, Hoss had to agree with him, “I was hoping the same thing pa.  Say, is that riders up ahead?”

 

Just ahead of them, Hoss and Ben could see a cloud of dust rising up from the riders approaching them from the direction of town.  Hailing them to a stop, one of the men stopped his horse while the others rode on up ahead.  “Evening men.  We got a report of a dead man up the road a bit.  Have you seen anyone around?”

 

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Ben had to ask, “Where did they find the body?”

 

“Just up the road a bit, it was off in the bushes next to a buckboard.  Looks like some fella was headed into Carson City.”  At that, the man kicked his horse with his knees and traveled down the trail to catch up with his buddies.

 

Looking over at Ben, Hoss could tell that Ben was fighting his emotions.  “Pa, there ain’t no proof that is little Joe.”

 

Dropping his head, Ben raised it and looked Hoss in the eyes.  “You’re right son.  Let’s go check this out.”

 

Kicking there horses forward, Ben and Hoss were soon upon the scene of the crime.  Jumping off their horses, they approached the other men.  One of the men pointed off towards the trees,  “That’s the buckboard the man was driving.”

 

Following the sweep of his hands, Ben and Hoss’s eyes landed on the Ponderosa buckboard nestled in a hollow among the trees with the horses that Joe had hitched up to the wagon earlier that day munching on grass.  Feeling a bit queasy at what they were about to see Hoss pushed Ben aside and went over to where the body was spread out face down on the other side of the buckboard.  Rolling the body over, Hoss let out a huge sigh of relief.  “Pa, it ain’t Joe.  It looks like whoever this is, was killed over there by the road, and then drug the buckboard and horses over to this hiding spot.”

 

Hearing that, Ben sank down against the buckboard, all the pent up tension within him released.  “Thank God.”  Feeling a bit of strength return to his body, Ben pushed away from the buckboard, and made his way through the tangled weeds to where Hoss stood over the body.  “Who is it Hoss?”

 

Bending down, Hoss rifled through the man’s pockets until he came across a wallet.  Pulling it open, he pulled out a slip of paper and announced with shock, “Joseph F. Cartwright.”

 

Before either one of them could say another word, they could hear the sound of hoof beats coming up the road.  Turning around, they saw Adam, along with the sheriff and doctor from Carson City.

 

“Hi pa!  I heard about the body, is it….”

 

“Not Joe Adam, but someone else with Joe’s buckboard.”

 

Nodding his head, Adam jumped down from his horse and introduced the sheriff who was striding over to where the Cartwright’s stood.  “Pa, this Sheriff Kincade from Carson City.”

 

Sticking out his hand, Ben watched as the sheriff ignored it and exclaimed instead, “What is Tom Jones doing out here.  He was supposed to be in a prison wagon on his way to Reno!”

 

“Tom Jones?  Prison wagon?  What are you talking about?” Ben exclaimed, as both Hoss and Adam hovered closer to Ben.

 

“Tom Jones just had a trial in Carson City and the jury convicted him of killing his girlfriend.  He was sentenced and sent to the Reno Insane Asylum for rehabilitation yesterday.  But the question is what is he doing here?  And why didn’t I receive wire from the institution that he was dead!”

 

With a fearful feeling in their souls, the Cartwright’s bid a hasty goodbye to the men and headed their horses towards home.  There they planned on changing out their horses and collecting gear for several nights on the trail in a quest to find their family member in Reno.

 

***********************

 

“You were sent here for rehabilitation.  Therefore you must learn there is a consequence for your actions.”

 

“No! Wait….”

 

Ignoring Joe, the doctor shook his head as he motioned over to the guards.  Grabbing Joe from behind, they drug a struggling Joe out of the hallway and into a rather large room.  Rather curious, Joe stopped struggling for a moment allowing the men to grasp a better hold on him.  From his brief view of the room, Joe saw a chair and a large pool of water situated near the middle of the room.  As he got a closer look at the chair, he saw that there were leather ties attached to the seat.  Suddenly fearful of another series of torture, Joe began to struggle in his captors’ hands.  “NOOOOOOO!” he screamed as they forced him into the chair.  With strong iron grips, they literally held him down as the leather straps were tied around his waist, wrists and ankles.  Grabbing hold of an extra leather strap, the doctor handed it the guard.  “Tie this one around the top of his head.”

 

Begging to be let free, Joe couldn’t see any way out of this situation, “Please no.  Please don’t tie me down.  Oh please!”

 

With one guard clasping hold of Joe’s head, the other wrapped the leather strap around his forehead and tied it to the back of the chair.  Firmly encased in the chair, Joe found that his struggling was to no use.  He was stuck.  Feeling shivers of fear race down his back, Joe felt the chair lift up from the floor and hover in the air as it moved its way over to the tub of water.  Tensing up, Joe had no idea of what was about to happen, he just knew that it wasn’t going to be good.  Suddenly the chair dropped, dunking him fully beneath the water.  With shock, he gasped out and felt his mouth fill with water.  A few seconds later, Joe was able to sputter the water out when the chair was swung up out of the water.  With just enough time to take a breath, he was plunged once again into the icy cold water.   Each time, he came up for air he couldn’t help but sputter his outrage at the treatment bestowed upon him.  It wasn’t until the fourth dunking that Joe could feel the life from within flow out, with his energy in struggling spent.  Tired and limp, he could feel the chair once again drop into the water.  No longer caring if he made it out or not, Joe began to fade away waiting for his next dunking.  This time, as he was brought out of the water he could feel the breeze hitting his chilled skin as he was swung back around to the floor.  Vaguely he could feel the ties around his body being removed.  As he was pulled up from the chair, Joe fell against the guard who hooked his hands under Joe’s arms and with the help of the other guard, swung him over to the cot.  Making sure his arms and legs were on the cot, they rolled him down the hallway to his cell.  Unlocking the door, they moved him from his cot, and placed him none too gently on his bed before leaving and slamming the door shut behind them.

 

As he faded in and out of consciousness, Joe could feel his clammy clothing sticking to his body as he tried to think of a way to get out of the place. Barely able to make sense in his head, he drifted off to sleep.

 

For the next two days, each morning he was escorted back to the water tub room, and given what they called, a “water treatment”.  By the second morning, Joe had almost resigned himself to this torture, when an image of his family entered his head.  With that image holding him on, he was determined that he was not going to give up getting out of the place.  Even though his body appeared to be under the control of the doctor, he refused to allow him access to his mental state.

 

Meal times seemed to run into another, as the same brown lumpy mess that Joe had experienced the first day was being offered.  It was on the second day of treatments that Joe was allowed back into the courtyard for exercises.   Walking around the courtyard’s boundary’s, Joe was lost in thought in his plans to get out of the prison.  So lost in thought, he nearly ran into Bob who stood rocking against the fence.

 

“Afternoon Bob”

 

Looking up at Joe, Bob blinked his eyes several times before they focused on Joe.  “Joe.  How are you?”

 

“Honestly, I’ve been better.  This water treatment is horrible, but I think I’m done with that for awhile.  They think they’ve rehabilitated me on whatever it was they were rehabilitating me on, although I feel like my body is becoming a prune.”

 

Grinning slightly, Bob nodded.  Encouraged by his smile, Joe decided to risk his question.  “Is there any way out of here?”

 

Swiftly looking around him, Bob grunted and motioned him towards the wall, away from everyone else.  Whispering, he began to talk, “There is a way, but it is tricky.  Follow me.”  Following Bob, they circled the grounds several times, before he stopped by a fence on the opposite side of the yard.  “Look, there is a door here, and it leads to the outside.  No one in the yard knows it is here, but I saw it the day I first arrived.”

 

“Why haven’t you tried to escape before?”

 

“I have, but I was caught.  That is when they started the water treatments, thus my warning to you that you ignored.”

 

“Why are you willing to try again?”

 

“Because I don’t want to die in this place, and I think that with you I might have a chance to get away.”

 

“But how can we get out without being seen?”

 

 “See the tall blonde girl over there, the one with the stringy hair?”

 

Glancing over, Joe recognized her as being the one who he had bumped into on the first day.  “Yes, what about her?”

 

“She doesn’t like anyone to touch her.  If too many people touch her, she throws a screaming fit and it takes at least three guards to hold her down to get the medication in her.  Just after they bring us in here, there is only one guard.  If we can get a lot of people around her, we can cause an attack, and then it will allow us enough time to slip out that door.”

 

“Are you sure this door is open?”

 

“It is, look on the side…quickly, no one is looking.  Along the doorframe, you don’t see a latch tying it down.  It’s open, almost as though they are playing with our minds.”

 

“When can we do this?”

 

“The next time we come to the yard is tomorrow morning.  Eat your food tonight, it’ll give you energy to get across the desert into Reno.”

 

Nodding in agreement, both men split apart and began roaming the grounds until it was time to return to the cell rooms.  Picking up some rocks, without thinking Joe began to toss them lightly up in the air.

 

“Hey you, put those rocks down!”

 

Surprised at the sound of the voice, a rock that Joe had just begun tossing up in the air instead veered out of his hand and landed in the soft middle of the guard’s stomach.  Grimacing, Joe watched as the guard began to advance on him.  “I’m sorry, it slipped out my hand,” Joe stuttered, trying to explain his way out of the situation.  Feeling the massive hand clamp him on the back of his neck, Joe was suddenly fearful for what was in store for him next.  Feeling himself propelled inside, the door behind him to the courtyard was slammed shut as he was manhandled into a room.  Groaning, Joe recognized the cot with the leather ties to it and began to push his way from the guard.  Exchanging a few punches, another guard appeared on the scene and knocked Joe’s legs out from underneath him.  Trying to crawl out of the room, he was kicked in the side and fell tumbling down into the flea-ridden straw littered around on the floor.  Bent over in pain, Joe could feel the guards grab him by the arms and literally throw him on the cot.  Hazy with pain, the leather ties were soon in place.  Breathing heavily, Joe didn’t pay any attention until he felt his body once again being roughly pushed over and caught a glimpse of the dreaded needle on its descent into his body, before he passed out.

 

 

****************************

 

Pulling his horse to a stop, Adam waited for Hoss and Ben to catch up to the view of the town in the distance.  “Pa, that’s Reno up ahead.”  Looking off towards the east, Adam saw the breaking of dawn appearing as they sent their exhausted mounts towards town and the sheriff’s office.   Waving Hoss and Adam towards the stables to find some fresh horses, Ben went directly to the sheriff’s office.

 

Meeting up with Ben at the sheriff’s office, Hoss and Adam found him talking with the deputy.  Apparently the sheriff was away on business, but the deputy was more than willing to help the Cartwrights with their questions.  Sitting behind the massive desk, his feet were propped up on the top of the desk as he told them about the Reno Insane Asylum.  “About eight months ago, the prison opened up to the east of town.  Most of the town’s people were against it, so they moved it off into the desert about 4 miles outside of town.”

 

“But that doesn’t seem that far away from town, once someone gets away,” Adam commented.

 

“It ain’t if you got boots on.  As soon as those people are admitted, they are stripped of their clothing and their shoes are taken away.  Anyway, they have a new doctor there, administrator I think they call him, straight from England.  He’s the one who wanted it opened up.  Anyway, they say he is a real tyrant, so if anyone tried to get away, they probably wouldn’t get too far.  And if they did, they probably would live to regret it.”

 

Exchanging glances, the Cartwrights suddenly had a bad feeling.  If Joe was there, they knew that he would try and escape.  Thanking the deputy, they took the directions and headed out to their horses, mounting up to leave town.

 

*************************

 

Hearing a sound outside of his door, Joe rolled over on his cot.  Waking up suddenly, he realized that once again he was free.  Feeling the raw skin around his wrists, Joe became even more determined in his resolve to leave this place.  Rolling onto his side, he had just barely put his feet on the floor when he heard the clank from the door, announcing the door was being opened.  “Get up!  Time to get outside for fresh air and exercise.” 

 

Blinking rapidly, Joe slowly pulled himself from his bed and staggered out of the room.  Holding onto the side of the wall, he felt utterly weak from the lack of food the night before and that morning.  Walking on, he was barely aware of Bob Miller’s presence.  It wasn’t until they were pushed into the yard, that he felt someone grab hold of his arm.  “Joe!”

 

Looking at the man standing to his left, he recognized Bob.  “Hi Bob.”

 

“You look terrible!  What did they do to you?”

 

“Restraints in bed, then a shot.  I feel like hell. I think they were making up for not using the water treatment again.”

 

Lifting his hand, Bob handed him some bread, “We had bread last night for supper, and I saved you some.  Should we save our escape for another day?”

 

“NO!” Joe answered empathetically.  “I gotta get out of here.”  Munching on the bread, Joe began to feel a little better, adding some strength to his sore and tired body.

 

Whispering to Joe, Bob said, “We have one guard now.  This has to be our moment.  Look, everyone is gathering around the tree again.  You go on that side and push everyone, and I’ll go on the other side of this group.  Blondie is in the middle next to the tree, which is where she always goes.”

 

Walking to the other side, Joe went up to some of the people and pushed them.  Seeing that they weren’t budging, he shoved harder and saw that they in turn were pushing on the people in front of them, creating a domino effect. Looking over the crowd, he could see that Bob’s side was having the same affect.  Within moments, a shrill scream could be heard from the middle of the group, as the blonde girl began to freak out.  Arms waving, she shrilled and went berserk pushing everyone away from here.  Surprised by the commotion, the guard ran into the chaotic crowd to try and calm her down.

 

“This is our chance Joe.”

 

Shoving Joe towards the door, both men ran to the door and after tugging on it a moment, found that it opened for them.  Pulling the door shut, they stopped for a moment to look at their surroundings.  In front of them, there was nothing but flat land, cactus and freedom.  Looking at the freedom, both men grinned and began to run.  Running, they were soon a fair distance away from the asylum, before they heard noises coming from somewhere outside of the asylum.  Taking a moment to look behind them, they saw several men running after them.  Fueled on by their desire not to be captured, they continued to run.  Hearing guns being fired, both men continued to run even after Joe saw Bob fall to the ground.  Stopping briefly to help, Bob begged for Joe to go.  “Run Joe Run! Don’t let them catch you!  I’d rather be dead than for me to return to that place, they’ll kill me being as this is my second attempt to run.  You have a chance.  RUN!”

 

Looking down at Bob, Joe wavered a moment then began to run.  Feeling the rocks and cacti rub beneath his stocking feet, he stumbled on a rock and found that the distance between him and his captors was close.  Hearing another gunshot, Joe felt nothing as he fell to the ground and was knocked unconscious.

 

*************************

 

“Say pa,” Hoss questioned, “What exactly did the deputy say about this here asylum?”

 

“He mentioned that some of the hardened and crazy prisoners were sent to this prison, supposedly for rehabilitation.”  Shrugging his shoulders, Ben continued, “As much as I want to find Joe, I almost hope that we don’t find him here.”

 

As Ben spoke, they could see a flurry of dust up ahead of them several miles away.  Adam pulled his horse aside as he hollered out, “Pa!  Look!  There’s something going on up there, I can distinctly hear the sound of shots being fired.”

 

“Boy’s, let’s hurry!”

 

With their fresh mounts, they covered the distance to where they had seen the earlier ruckus within an hour.  Sliding to a stop, Hoss jumped off his horse when he saw a body of a man clothed in dirty gray clothing sprawled out on the rocky terrain.  Rolling the man over, Hoss silently shook his head to the men as the man on the ground gasped for breath, “Ya gotta help him… ya gotta help the kid…”

 

Hearing the man’s words, Ben shoved the reins of his horse into Adam’s hands and pushed Hoss aside.  Grabbing hold of the dying man’s shredded shirt, Ben demanded an answer, “Is my son there?  Joe Cartwright?  Do you know someone by the name of Tom Jones?”

 

Hardly able to listen to the man’s wheezing Hoss turned away and peered into the distance at the imposing windowless structure in the distance.

 

Opening his mouth, blood seeped out the side of his mouth as Bob struggled for words in his fight for life.  “He’s….” Unable to finish his sentence, the man choked once more on the blood collecting in his throat, before his eyes rolled back in his head.

 

Looking down, Adam reached down to help Ben up from the ground.  “He’s dead pa.”

 

Slapping his hand away, Ben cried out, “Is my son there!  Talk to me!”  Grabbing hold of Bob’s shirt, Ben shook him in an attempt to bring him back to life.  Watching as the blood from the dead man’s mouth splattered around on the dirt, Hoss grabbed hold of Ben while Adam tried to pry Ben’s fingers away from the dead man’s shirt.  “Pa, let him go,” urged Adam.

 

Letting go of the shirt, Ben dejectedly stood up and looked down at the man lying still before them.  Urged on by an inner intuition, Ben suddenly had a feeling of needing to hurry.  Turning to Hoss and Adam, he motioned them on towards the asylum.

 

 

 ******************************

 

“He’s stirring, I think he’s waking up.”

 

“Let’s get him tied up in this here jacket before he puts up a struggle.”

 

“Did you get that bullet out of his leg?”

 

Feeling someone tugging on his arms, Joe cried out in pain as someone else banged his leg against a hard object.  Realizing from the conversation around him that he had been shot, the memories of what had happened outside came rushing back to him.  Fighting away the weakness that seemed to have overtaken his body, Joe began moving his head around as he tried moving his arms.  Feeling them wrapped around his body, he struggled to get them loose, while looking down to try and untangle them.  His eyes widened suddenly.  Someone had placed him in a long heavy burlap wrapping, covered with leather bindings that were tied in front of him. 

 

“Hey!” Joe cried out, as all sleep escaped him, panicking at the thought of once again being restrained.  “What happened!  What is this thing?”  While trying to free his arms, Joe groaned out in pain as the movement sent spasms of pain from his thigh shooting up through his body.  Twisting around, Joe could see a guard left in the room.

 

One of the guards that Joe recognized from the yard, came over to him, “You’s lucky, we could have killed out there, but the doctor wanted one of you brought back as an example to the others.  Guess today was your lucky day.”

 

Feeling a bit faint and feverish from his wound on his leg and the previous day’s water treatment, Joe breathlessly pleaded, “Please get me out of this, I can’t breathe.  It’s too tight.”

 

Looking down at Joe, the guard did notice that his face was red, but chalked it up to the exertion it took to get Joe inside.  “You’re okay, just an excuse to get out of that.”  Bending down, the guard fiddled some with the leather and commented, “Kinda neat ain’t it.  Just got this in yesterday, you’re the first one to try out our new straightjacket.  What ya think of it?”

 

“Please,” panted Joe, “it’s too tight.”  Feeling the circulation being cut off, Joe tried to roll over and lesson the pressure from his arms, which at the moment were wound around his middle before being pulled behind him.  Feeling a bit of pity, the guard reached down to help push him to his side.

 

“I don’t know.  We followed the directions, this will have a nice calmin’ affect for ya, so the doctor says.”

 

Gagging from an internal need, Joe spewed out vomit while he continued to fight for his breath.  “Help me, I can’t breathe.”

 

“Uh, breathe slower fella.”  A bit concerned at the status of the man in the straightjacket, the guard stood up while scratching a scab on the side of his face.  Thinking a moment, he looked down at Joe, “Let me go find the doctor and see what he has to say.”

 

“Please don’t leave me,” gasped Joe.

 

Ignoring him, the guard briefly looked down at Joe before taking the candle and walking out the door.  Watching the guard close the door firmly behind him and take the light with him, Joe felt all hope fade away.

 

******************************

 

“I know my son is here in this place!” yelled Ben, as he approached the tall thin doctor.

 

“I’m sorry sir, but we have no record of a Joe Cartwright having been here.”

 

“Well then check your records for a Tom Jones.”

 

“Yes sir, we’ll do that as soon as we get an opportunity, until then why don’t you have a seat over here and wait while Sarah checks our paperwork.”  Escorting the Cartwrights to the chairs, the guard who had just left Joe’s room approached the doctor.

 

“Johnson,” demanded Dr. Percale, “What are you doing in this part of the building?”

 

“It’s that man, Tom Jones, that we have in the straightjacket.  He ain’t looking too good.”

 

Hearing the guard’s words to the doctor, Adam whipped his head around, “Tom Jones?”  Then looking directly at the doctor, he demanded an answer, “I thought you didn’t know if you had a record on Tom Jones here.”

 

As the doctor stammered for a reply, Hoss took two large steps to where the doctor stood and grabbed him by the shirt, “If I was you, I would be talking about now.  Where is my little brother?”

 

Feeling the air squeezing out of his windpipe, the doctor gasped for air as he motioned over to the guard, who stepped over to where Hoss stood.  “If you let him go, I’ll go show you where he is.”

 

Pushing the doctor from his grasp, Hoss didn’t even pay attention to where he threw him, intent on finding his brother.  Jumping over to where Ben and Adam stood anxiously waiting, they followed the guard down a long dark corridor, cringing at the wails and cries coming from each of the rooms.  Seeing the door open in one room, Adam caught a glimpse of what was called the “water treatment” center. Shivering slightly at that images that swam before him, he nearly ran into Ben.  “What’s that son?”

 

“I’ve heard about them from some friends from college,” whispered Adam.  “They were used quite often when a patient was difficult.  From how they spoke, a man could contract pneumonia from a consistent dunking with one of those things.  The water is frigid, and as you can tell this place isn’t the most comfortable in regards to comfort for the inmates.”

 

“What if…?” Ben began to ask the question, almost fearing the answer. 

 

“I don’t know pa,” Adam answered, already guessing the question.  “But I hope that Joe was not here long enough to experience that.”

 

Just when it seemed like they were running out of rooms, the guard stopped before a room and pushed the door open.  A smell of vomit overtook their senses as they stood there trying to peer into the darkness.  Squinting in the dark room the guard pulled out a match and lit a candle, before stepping aside and giving it to Ben.  Pushing their way in side, they could hear the soft grunts of someone in the room, down on the floor.  Throwing the flicker of the flame to all points in the room, Hoss stumbled upon a body. 

 

“Pa! Bring the light down here.”

 

Bending down, the light shone down on Joe’s face showing the exertion he was having in taking a breath. A thin layer of sweat beaded on the top of his forehead and trickled down on his cheeks and neck.  Lying on his side, Joe had given in once again to his sick stomach, obvious by the smell and sight of vomit, with the remains splattered down the front of the jacket. Shining the light on down his body, his family gasped in shock at the condition he was in. Getting down on their hands and knees, they began to fumble with the leather straps, their hands sore and tender in trying to frantically get the binding off Joe.  Once they got the straps undone, they pushed Joe up from his position on his side and pulled the straightjacket off of him.  Feeling freedom from the straightjacket, Joe took several large gulps of breath as he leaned against the strong chest of Ben.  Forgetting about his leg, he began to stretch until he cried out weakly from the pain stemming from the gunshot wound on his leg.  Opening his eyes, Joe softly began to cry out, “Pa.

 

“I’m here son, I’m right next to you.” Ben chanted as he held his son in his arms as Adam bent down and removed the rest of the straightjacket.  As he pulled the leather restraints from around his waist, Adam noticed a trail of blood leading from a point on Joe’s leg.

 

Lowering his voice, Adam spoke up, “Pa, he’s been shot, and it looks like its getting infected.”

 

Leaning forward, Hoss hunched down and examined the wound, “We gotta get him to a doctor, pa.  The bullet went clear through, but there’s a bunch of swelling around the area.  Looks like it ain’t been cleaned.”

 

“Pa,” whispered Joe, as his eyes briefly open.  Then just as he was about to speak again, he fainted away.

 

Moving his arms around Joe, Ben could feel the dead weight of his son lying fully in his arms.  Seeing the difficulty that Ben was having moving from the floor, Hoss leaned down and gathered Joe up in his arms.  Pushing the door open, Adam led the way back down the hallway and back toward the front entry.  Glancing over to the side, they saw the doctor lying on a couch with a cloth pressed up against his forehead.  Watching as Hoss sent a deathly glare towards the doctor, Adam had to admit that his feelings were pretty much the same at that point for the doctor.  Making a motion to step towards the doctor, Ben grabbed hold of Adam before he put into action what he was thinking.  Looking at the doctor, cowering on the couch, Adam turned to Ben and admitted, “You’re right pa, he’s not worth it.”  Stepping in front of Hoss, Adam pushed the door open and welcomed the sight of bright sunshine that seemed to wrap it’s cloak of warmth around all those who stepped outside.  Feeling movement in his arms, Hoss looked down and saw that Joe was waking up.

 

“Pa, Joe’s waking up.”

 

Hearing the sound of familiar voices, Joe struggled to wake up.  When he had been restrained in his straightjacket, he thought he had seen the image of his family, but knew it couldn’t be so.  But out here, in the sunshine he weakly reached his hand up and cupped his hand on Hoss’s chin.  “Hoss, is that really you?”

 

“It’s me buddy, it really is me.” Hoss answered, as he struggled to keep his voice even as he looked down onto his brother’s face. “We’re going home.”

 

“I was scared, Hoss.  I really was scared,” Joe admitted, as he rested his head in Hoss’s shoulder.  Relaxing against the strong shoulder of his brother, he could feel a hand on his forehead, and when he looked up saw the concerned faces of his pa and Adam.  “Hey you two,” Joe sighed, while a grin threatened to emerge.  The emerging grin spread across his face, Joe couldn’t help but tease, “It took you long enough to get here.”  Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, Ben returned his grin with one of his own as they all linked their arms together and headed for their horses and eventually home.

 

# # #

 

 

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