Christmas, Cartwright Style
Written 11/30/03 to 12/16/03
DISCLAIMER: Okay, I stole the Cartwrights from Paramount or whoever owns 'em these days. I also stole the title from... somebody.
And no, I do not own Joe's snowballs, either. You want 'em? You'll have to ask MGM, becauseI borrowed them from one of their movies.
Part One:
Preparations for the Party
"So, can I open my presents now?"
"How many times must I tell you, Joseph? Not yet!"
"Awwwww…"
"And no whining either!"
It was the day before Christmas, 1852, and the youngest Cartwright was getting impatient. So was his father.
"How about now?" the ten-year-old asked.
"Later!" Ben responded, trying to keep his temper under control. Little Joe sure could be a handful sometimes.
Joe, who was hopping from one foot to the other, kept glancing at the big grandfather clock near the door. Twenty seconds passed.
"Okay, it's later. Can I open my presents now? Please!" Joe begged, still skipping around anxiously. Ben sighed. If there was one word to describe his son at that moment, it would be 'annoying'.
"You can keep Rocky, and that's one of your Christmas presents," Ben informed Little Joe. Rocky was the black dog Joe had found and raised—against the wishes of his father—for the past few months. When he saw how much love and time Joe had put into making the dog happy, Ben decided to let Joe keep him, against his better judgment.
"So why can't you be satisfied with that until tomorrow?"
Little Joe seemed to think about that one for a minute.
"That's true. Maybe I'll go outside and play with Rocky. He likes the snow!" Joe said enthusiastically. He ran to the coat and hat rack, which hung on the wall near the door, and threw on his gloves, hat and pine green coat. In his haste to get out, Joe nearly bumped into one of his older brothers, Hoss. With a quick, muttered apology, Joe dashed outside and began calling for his new pet.
Now maybe I can get some work done around here! Ben thought, relieved that Joe finally had something to do besides bother him. While Little Joe had been complaining about Christmas presents, Ben had been trying to put the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. Without Joe, it would be a lot easier.
"What was that all about, Pa? Joe seemed mighty anxious ta git outta here," Hoss asked. He was Ben's middle son. He was six years older than Joe and six years younger than Adam, the oldest. But he was much larger than Joe or Adam, or even Ben himself.
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, he can stay out of here until the party tonight!" Ben said forcefully.
"Is he in trouble agin?"
"No, but I think he would have been if he hadn't left when he did!" Ben hung the last ornament on the tree. "There, that should do it." He turned to Hoss and asked, "Why is it that neither you nor Adam complained about opening your presents early, but Little Joe does?"
"I dunno, Pa. But, no matter what the reason is, I think you'd better git used ta havin' white hair, cause Joe is jist gonna stay Joe forever and ever!" Hoss laughed. He had since taken off his coat and was warming his hands in front of the fire. Ben sighed in reply.
From outside, the two could hear Little Joe's playful shouts and giggles as he ran around outside with the equally active Rocky. Hoss stood up, pulled back the curtain from the window and watched his brother for a moment. He smiled.
"Little Joe always seems so cute and playful when he's outside," Hoss commented. "But when he's inside, you don't even wanna think about what happens!"
Ben couldn't help but laugh a little. It was mostly true. But he had to admit that, without Joe, life on the Ponderosa would be awfully dull.
The eldest Cartwright brother, Adam, came inside a minute later with an armful of logs. His right arm was covered in melting snow, as if it had been hit by a snowball.
"Don't tell me," Ben said, shutting his eyes. "Little Joe."
Adam nodded. "I think he's pretending that he's D'Artagnan and I'm Cardinal Richelieu," he said, sounding annoyed but looking amused. Hoss took the logs from him and put them on the fire while Adam tore off his wet coat and hung it up.
"Well, you've done a good job of decorating, Pa. Anything I can do to help?" Adam offered, looking around at the already beautiful scenery. Four stockings hung in front of the fire (put up by Joe, who had fallen off the ladder while hanging up his own). Garlands were strung across the ceiling from end to end. There was a huge Ponderosa pine in the corner, all covered in ornaments and a few of the gingerbread men that the cook, Hop Sing, had made the night before. He was working on some more right now because, if he knew Hoss, there would be a few gingerbread men missing before the day was over.
"I do need some help moving the furniture so that there's enough room for dancing," Ben agreed, grateful to Adam for offering.
"What's the matter, Pa? Gettin' too old to do it yerself?" Hoss smiled. Ben glared at him, but it was good-natured.
"Never mind that," Adam told Hoss. "We've got to move the furniture before Little Joe comes back in. Remember last year? He practically broke his foot while we were moving one of the chairs!"
"Oh, I don't think Joe will be back in here for a while, son," Ben announced. He leaned against the settee as he said, "We always have to drag him back inside when it snows, remember?"
"Let's just hope he doesn't decide that Cardinal Richelieu and Lady de Winter are holding one of the Three Musketeers hostage inside, or we'll be in for it!" Adam smirked.
"Well, if he dares to touch one of those epees…" Ben never finished the sentence. His third wife and Joe's mother, Marie, had brought a couple epees with her from New Orleans. It seemed as if Little Joe had wanted to play with them ever since before he could walk.
"Aw, come on, Little Joe's just a kid. He wants to have fun," Hoss said in his brother's defense. The two youngest Cartwrights were always sticking up for each other.
"Oh, and what a Merry Christmas that would be, with one of us run through with a New Orleans monkey pick!" Adam exclaimed sarcastically.
"Let's just get this furniture moved," Ben suggested, sounding tired. Adam and Hoss grabbed the other end of the settee and pulled it out of the living room.
-
"Boy am I ever hungry!" Hoss stretched as he said this. The three eldest Cartwrights had spent the whole morning pushing furniture around to make room for the guests.
"You're always hungry!" Adam contradicted.
"He's right, though," Ben stated. "Look at the time; it's nearly 12:00."
"We'd better call in Little Joe afore Hop Sing calls for us and threatens ta go back ta China when we don't come right away!" Hoss exclaimed, looking horrified at the very idea of the beloved cook leaving. Hoss ran outside, followed closely by Ben and Adam.
"Little Joe!" Ben shouted, but his youngest son was nowhere to be seen. "Joe! This is no time for games! Lunch is almost—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a snowball hit him in the arm—hard.
Before long, the sound of Little Joe's unmistakable giggles filled the air. The noise came from one of the trees that grew around the house. Rocky was standing there in front of them, wagging his tail eagerly, as if he was in on Joe's plan.
"You know something, Pa," Adam began. "If you had just asked me not to read to Joe at night, you might not have this problem today, because he wouldn't be D'Artagnan and I wouldn't be Cardinal Richelieu. All you had to do was ask."
Unfortunately, Joe heard what Adam said and threw a snowball at him, too. Then he leapt out of the tree and walked over to the other Cartwrights, still laughing.
Adam was beginning to suspect those snowballs. He picked up the lump of snow that had once been his brother's weapon and examined it.
"Snowballs with rocks in them!" he exclaimed, looking at the silver stone that had been hidden inside the snow. When Adam discovered his secret, Joe laughed even harder. He stopped and fell to his knees, unable to go any farther.
"That does it!" Adam yelled. "Come 'ere, you little runt!"
Adam dashed after Joe, who had managed to get to his feet and start running by this time. He was still laughing as he tried to escape his older brother's grasp and fury. Ben watched, trying not to chuckle at his sons' antics. No matter how much trouble he was, Little Joe was a very fun person to be around.
Hoss, however, was getting impatient.
"I'll stop 'em, Pa. Then mebbe we kin git inside an' eat lunch!" Hoss made a move towards Adam and Joe, but Ben grabbed his arm.
"I wouldn't interfere if I were you," he warned. "You know how those two get when they're having an argument."
"Don't you worry, Pa. I kin handle it."
Hoss noticed that Little Joe was coming towards him at top speed. So he stuck his leg out. Joe, who was too busy concentrating on the figure behind him, didn't see Hoss' leg and tripped over it, tumbling to a stop in the snow. Adam, in turned, tripped over Hoss' outstretched limb and then toppled over Joe. Joe cried out in pain and shock as his brother did a flip over his back. Both brothers sat in the snow, panting.
"Now mebbe that'll teach ya not to chase each other around in the snow, especially jist before lunch," Hoss said, looking pleased with himself. Ben didn't miss the sneaky looks Adam and Little Joe exchanged.
"Oh, we won't chase each other anymore," Adam assured his big little brother.
"Yeah, cause we'll be too busy chasing you!" Joe put in. He jumped up from where he lay in the snow and ran after Hoss. Adam did the same.
"Wha—? HEY!" Hoss yelled, and he began running across the yard. Joe was much quicker than Hoss and had soon leapt on his back, whooping and hollering the whole time, while Adam wasn't too far behind.
"I told him he shouldn't have interfered," Ben said to himself with a smile.
-
"Do I hafta?" Joe whined. It was about an hour after lunch, and the Cartwrights and Hop Sing were putting the finishing touches on their party plans.
"Yes, you have to!" Ben told the boy sternly. "Just as soon as Hoss finishes his bath, you'll have yours!"
"Awwwww…"
"And don't whine!"
Joe made a face and sunk lower into the settee. With his arms folded across his chest and the evil scowl that still lingered on his face, he was the very picture of misery. However, just as quickly as the foul mood came on, it was over. Little Joe sat up and started talking.
"Who did you invite to the Christmas Eve Party, Adam?" he asked.
"None of your business, younger brother," Adam replied, who was reading The Three Musketeers on the settee—at least, he was trying to. "Why don't you ask Hoss?"
"Because he's taking a bath. Besides, I already know who he's taking," Joe announced.
That grabbed Adam's attention. He had been trying to get Hoss to tell him who he was taking to the dance for days. But Adam knew what Joe was up to: the plan was that Adam would ask who Hoss' date was, and Joe would tell him—after Adam told Joe who his own date was. No, no matter how curious Adam was, he could wait until the party.
Sensing this, Joe changed the subject.
"What did you get me for Christmas, Adam?"
"Would you quit asking such personal questions? Can't a person keep a secret around here?"
"It's my present, so why shouldn't I know what it is?"
"Because it's still mine until tomorrow."
"If you tell me what my present is, I'll tell you what yours is."
"NO!"
Little Joe sighed, and was forced to give up the fight once again. He noticed Rocky was sitting on the floor, looking up at him with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. Joe patted his lap and Rocky leapt up onto the settee. Joe smiled and stroked the dog's soft black fur. Adam saw Rocky on Joe's lap and frowned.
"Pa says that Rocky isn't allowed on the furniture. You know that," he scolded.
"Don't be such a sourpuss," Joe told him.
"You'll get into trouble with Pa."
"Lighten up, already! It's almost Christmas! Besides, he's on my lap, not the furniture."
"Okay, but don't blame me when Pa lectures you for breaking the rules," Adam said, thinking he had finished the conversation. But Little Joe got the upper hand for once when he stuck his tongue out at his strict older brother. Adam got no chance to respond, because Ben came in at that moment, just missing Joe's lack of manners toward his brother—and Rocky's leap to the floor.
"Alright, Joe, its time for you to have a bath, and absolutely no whining!" Ben said, wagging his finger in Joe's direction.
"Who, me?" Little Joe replied, looking as innocent as he could. Joe walked off to have his bath, still looking so innocent it was hard for Ben, Adam and Hoss—who had just came into the room—not to smile. When Joe was out of earshot, they all burst out laughing.
"Okay, everyone," Ben spoke up first once the laughter had died down. "Let's get back to work. Hoss, you help Hop Sing in the kitchen. Adam, you come with me to set up the table."
"Pa, are you sure it's wise to let… you know…" Adam looked uncomfortable.
"Now listen, Adam, I'm sure Hoss is reliable enough to go into a kitchen without eating all the food. And, if he isn't, we'll hear about it from Hop Sing soon enough!" Ben said.
"Pa! Come on!" Hoss yelled, his face turning bright red. "Ya both know you kin trust me! Watch! I won't eat a single piece o' food till its time fer the party!"
"Wanna make a bet on that, brother?" Adam said with a smirk.
"Yeah," Hoss agreed. "I'll bet… I'll bet a week's worth o' wages that I don't eat nothin' till the party."
"It's a bet!" Adam exclaimed, holding out his hand. Hoss shook it heartily.
"Okay, that's enough betting, you two," Ben interrupted. "We've got work to do, and I'm sure Hop Sing will appreciate your help—as long as you stick to the bet."
"I WILL stick to this bet, Pa. Just you watch. I'll git the best of ol' Adam yit!" I hope, Hoss added to himself.
He walked off into the kitchen while Ben and Adam set up the table in the living room. Everything smelled so good! The gingerbread cookies, the cakes, the punch… not eating anything until the party was going to be much harder than Hoss had thought.
-
It was only five minutes later when Little Joe came back into the living room with a towel still wrapped around his slim shoulders.
"Hi, Pa," he said with a big smile, drying off his hair a little more with the towel.
"Back so fast?" Ben asked, not looking up from where he was helping Adam arrange the tablecloth. "You cleaned everywhere, right?"
"Of course I did!" Joe protested while doing his best to look and sound offended. Adam glanced up and saw Joe's soaking wet hair and the towel.
"Hop Sing isn't going to be thrilled when he sees that a certain little somebody has dripped water all across the floor because he didn't dry off immediately after his bath," Adam commented. He grabbed the towel from Joe and draped it over the boy's head, then began rubbing as hard and as fast as he could.
"HEY!" Joe squealed. He began to laugh. Ben looked up and laughed, too. It wasn't often Adam and Little Joe had this much fun.
Adam pulled the towel off and inspected his work. Satisfied, he tossed the towel back at Joe. He giggled once more then went to put the towel away.
I wonder how Hoss is doing with our bet, Adam wondered as he straightened the wrinkles out of the cloth. I wish that I could be there with him to make double-sure he doesn't cheat.
Joe came back into the room and hopped up onto the credenza to watch his father and brother at work.
Hmmmm…
Adam had an idea.
He casually walked over to Little Joe who was staring at them with big, excited eyes.
"Uh, Joe?" Adam began, his voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah?" Joe asked, just as quietly.
"I have a favor to ask you. Now it's not what you think," he added hastily when Joe pulled a long face. "While you were taking a bath, Hoss and I made a bet. We put up a week's worth of wages each that he wouldn't eat anything until the party tonight."
"Really?" Joe's eyes grew even wider. He knew that Hoss not eating for hours at a time was next to impossible.
"Yes, really. Now what I want you to do for me is to go into the kitchen and just… stay there… and make sure Hoss doesn't eat anything. If he does, let me know."
"What do I get out of it?"
"If you do a good job, I'll give you the dollar I have left over from Christmas shopping."
"A whole dollar! Wow!" Joe cried.
Until that moment, Ben hadn't suspected anything. He figured that Adam had merely gone to talk to his brother for a minute, which was natural. But now…
"Okay, you two, what's going on?"
"He's gonna give me a dollar if I make sure Hoss doesn't eat anything till the party! Bye!" Joe dashed into the kitchen before Ben could stop him. So he turned to Adam for the answers instead.
"Adam, are you sure you didn't bribe Little Joe to convince Hoss to eat something?" Ben asked suspiciously.
"Pa, you know me better than that! I wouldn't cheat!" Adam insisted. "I just want to make sure Hoss doesn't eat anything until the party, and Joe will do just about anything as long as there's money or candy involved."
"Well, okay, but if I hear anything about this being an unfair bet, I'll get both your wages for a week! Now come on, we have to finish up the table."
Adam took one last glance towards the kitchen and followed his father.
-
Joe, excited at the idea of getting a dollar from Adam just for watching Hoss, skipped into the kitchen and was greeted by a host of delicious smells. Hop Sing and Hoss were standing over something. It appeared as if they were concentrating. Not wanting to disturb them, Joe hopped onto the kitchen table and waited for someone to notice him.
"I'll git some more o' them cookies, Hop Sing," Hoss said. He turned around and saw Joe staring at him with his hazel-green eyes. Hoss saw mischief in those eyes...
"Joe! What are you doin' in here?" Hoss said.
"Watchin'. Got a problem with that?" Little Joe asked. Hoss knew that Joe was pretty fresh for adding that last sentence, but it was almost Christmas. Besides, Hoss could never bring himself to tattle on his little brother. Joe was the only little brother he had.
"So can I stay or not?" Joe asked.
"Fine, but stay out o' the way."
Hoss picked up a plate of gingerbread cookies and brought it over to the cook—but not before Joe could steal one and stick it in his mouth. The boy's move was so fast and discreet that Hoss didn't notice. Hoss put the plate on the counter. Hop Sing counted the cookies on the plate and frowned.
"I make ten cookies to finish house, now only nine," the cook stated. The first person Hop Sing suspected was Hoss.
"Hey, I didn't take no cookies. I got a bet to win, I'm gonna win it!" Hoss claimed. There was only one other person in the kitchen and both men knew who the culprit was. Hoss and Hop Sing turned around and glared at Little Joe, who had just polished off the snack.
"What?" Joe asked, as innocent as could be.
"Don't 'what' me, little brother! You swiped that cookie and you know it!" Hoss accused, advancing on Joe. But Joe sat calmly on the table.
"Who, me?" Joe pretended to be interested in the wooden table he was perched on, and Hoss, even though he knew Joe was to blame, began to cool off. But, if there was one person in the entire world that Joe couldn't win over with his big, puppy-dog eyes and guiltless smile, it was Hop Sing.
The angered cook began yelling at Little Joe in his native language. Joe hid a smile. Although he didn't understand a word of what Hop Sing was saying, he had heard this speech several times before, and knew what the basic idea was.
The next thing Hop Sing did, much to everyone's surprise, was pick up a rolling pin off the counter and bonk Joe over the head with it.
"HEY!" Joe screamed, throwing his arms over his head for protection. "It was just one cookie! It wasn't that important!"
By this time, Hoss was practically rolling on the floor laughing.
"Come on, big brother! Ouch! Help me out here! Ow, that hurt! Hoss!" Joe begged, still trying to dodge Hop Sing's blows without much success.
"Okay, Hop Sing, I reckon Shortshanks has learned his lesson about stealin' cookies by now," Hoss said, prying the rolling pin from the cook's hands. Hop Sing said a couple things to Hoss that nobody except he could understand and went back to decorating the big gingerbread house. Joe sighed, relieved.
"Gee, thanks, Hoss," he grinned up at his older brother. "Remind me to do the same for you sometime."
Hoss blushed. "Aw, Joe, I know ya woulda done the same fer me." Hoss turned around and went back to helping Hop Sing with the house. Little Joe jumped off the table and walked over to where they were working. Hop Sing instantly moved the house away from Joe and threw an evil glare in his direction.
"Don't worry, Hop Sing, I won't steal anymore cookies," Joe assured him with a laugh. Even so, Hop Sing kept the house just out of the boy's reach.
"That looks nice," Joe commented. Hop Sing just glared at him again and went on gluing pieces of gingerbread on with white frosting. Hoss was watching with big, hungry eyes. He wished he could have a bite—even a crumb—but he'd lose a week's wages if he did. So, for the moment, Hoss managed to keep his urges to eat under control.
-
"Well, that's as straight as we'll ever get it." Ben and Adam stepped away from the table and examined it. They were quite pleased with the way the tablecloth hung. (A/N And don't you dare ask what took them so long with the stupid cloth!) "Now all we need is some food to put on it."
"Speaking of food, I wonder how Hoss is doing at not eating," Adam commented, glancing towards the kitchen for the millionth time.
"Stop worrying, Adam. Like you said, Joe will do just about anything for money or candy," Ben told him. He could see his words were having no effect on Adam. "Tell you what: now that this is done, we'll go into the kitchen and see how things are turning out."
Adam nodded his agreement.
Everything appeared to be in perfect order when they arrived. Hop Sing was making a gingerbread house, and Hoss and Little Joe were watching with eager eyes and big smiles. Joe noticed the visitors first.
"Hi, Pa! Hi, Adam!" he greeted with a wave. Hoss looked up, too. Hop Sing was too busy to really notice.
"Pa, Adam," Hoss said.
"Hello, everybody." Adam walked closer to where Hop Sing was working. "Looks nice."
Hop Sing pulled the gingerbread house away from Adam.
"You no steal cookies, too!" Hop Sing declared.
Adam smiled triumphantly.
"Ah-ha!" he cried. Joe jumped in surprise and Hoss nearly hit Hop Sing's gingerbread house. "So, Hoss did eat something! Joe, why didn't you tell me?"
"But—" Joe began, but Adam interrupted.
"Okay, Hoss, it looks like I get a week's worth of your wages after all."
"Uh, Adam—" Hoss tried, but Adam was too worked up to notice.
"I should have known you couldn't keep your hands away from food for more than a few minutes..."
"ADAM!" Joe hollered at the top of his lungs. He had never been famous for his patience, and it had just run out. Adam stopped talking and looked at Little Joe.
"He didn't steal anything, I did! Believe me; I can still feel where Hop Sing hit me on the head with the rolling pin." Joe rubbed the sore spot and looked up at Adam, who appeared to be in shock. Even Ben seemed a little surprised. He had expected Hoss to at least try to steal something.
"Hoss didn't steal anything?" Adam questioned.
"Nope. He's been real good," Joe replied with a big smile. "So can I have my dollar now?"
"It's not time for the party yet. There's still time," Adam declared and marched from the room. Joe giggled at his brother's rage.
"I'd better go light the candles on the tree. We only have about a half-hour until the guests start arriving," Ben announced. "Oh, and when you two are done in here, help carry out some of the platters. Then go get dressed."
"I am dressed," Joe protested.
"I mean in your best clothes and you know it."
"But the shirt itches and…"
"And no whining! Haven't you done that enough for one day!" Ben sighed, exasperated, and left the room. Joe sighed too. Then he grabbed the full punch bowl and carried it out to the table.
-
Come on, Hoss said to himself. Ya ain't had nothin' ta eat since lunch. The party's in twenty minutes. You kin make it, and get a week's worth of Adam's wages in the process!
Hoss had been holding out well, but he wasn't sure whether he'd win the bet or starve to death trying.
Little Joe seemed to sense what Hoss was thinking.
"Look, personally, I'm with you, but Adam offered me a dollar to tell him if you did or didn't, so DON'T and I won't have to tell," Joe whispered as Hoss set a plate of sugar cookies on the table.
"Thanks fer the warnin'. I'll try ta hold out fer the next twenty minutes," Hoss answered. He could hear his stomach growling and knew that if he didn't eat soon, he'd definitely starve to death.
"You can do it!" Joe encouraged on their way back to the kitchen. Hoss gave him a grateful smile.
-
"Pa, does Rocky absolutely have to stay locked in my room during the party?" Little Joe asked in a pleading tone of voice. Joe had already asked this question a hundred times today—or so it seemed to Ben.
"Joe, how many times must we go through this? The answer was no ten minutes ago, and the answer is still no!" Ben answered; he was trying desperately to keep his temper in check.
Joe wasn't willing to give up just yet, though, so he tried again.
"Not even if he's really quiet?"
"No."
"Not even if he doesn't eat the food?"
"No."
"Not even—"
"JOSEPH!"
"Okay, okay," Joe mumbled. With a sigh that was completely unnecessary, Little Joe went to put Rocky in his bedroom for the evening.
"By the way," Ben added. Joe turned around with a hopeful look in his eyes. "Don't save any scraps from the party for Rocky. He's been getting a little too much food from you lately. You don't want a fat dog, do you?"
"No, I won't," Joe sighed. He continued up the stairs.
"Sorry, boy, but Pa says you have to stay in here," Joe said mournfully, looking at Rocky. The dog whined, as if he understood.
"What a way to spend Christmas Eve."
And Joe shut the door without a second look.
End of Part One
The best Christmas present you could give me is a nice, fat review. Or maybe a nice, skinny review. ;) As long as it is nice, who cares how much it weighs?