The Adam Cartwright Essays: Independence

"Mr. Cartwright," she said, extending her hand in greeting. "Thank you for coming. I hope this isn't an inconvenience."

"Of course not, Miss Smith," Ben said nervously. "It's been a while since I . . ." Ben looked away for an instant before continuing. "since I've come to town. I've been meaning to place an order at Garson's feed store, so, well, here I am."

Miss Smith smiled, nodding at the empty chair in front of her desk. "Please, Mr. Cartwright, have a seat. I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here."

Ben folded his hands on his lap. His mouth was dry, and he wished he'd had a chance to speak with Adam before he'd come to town. "I assume that you need to speak to me about my son, though I can't imagine what it could be about."

"Mr. Cartwright," the teacher said, her warm smile radiating her face, "your son, Adam, is a remarkable young man." She reached into her top desk drawer, removed a sheet of paper, and handed it to the anxious father. "And this essay, Mr. Cartwright, proves my point tenfold."

Anxious, Ben nodded and began to read . . .

I'm supposed to write an essay about independence. That word made me think about the Declaration of Independence, our founding fathers, and fireworks. And then, it made me think about the things that make us independent and the people who we respect because of the decisions they've made. So, I decided to write about someone I know who, all of a sudden, needs to learn how to be all of those things. So, I'm writing about my little brother, Joe.

My Brother Joe

My brother, Joe, never got the chance to be like Hoss and me. Instead, he was born into a family that included a pa, two brothers, and someone that Hoss and I never had when we were babies. Joe had a mother.

Now, don't get me wrong. When my mother died giving life to me, Pa found a nice lady to help him with his newborn son. Her name was Mrs. Hanover, and she wasn't my mother, she was my nanny. Pa says she was nice, but I don't remember her. There isn't much that babies do remember, but they seem to learn an awful lot. I always thought learning and remembering went hand in hand, but in the case of babies, I reckon I was wrong.

I had Mrs. Hanover when I was new, but she left us before I was even one-year-old. The next time I had a mother was when I was five. I wasn't a baby then. Pa and I were traveling west, and when he met this pretty lady named Inger, she gave me pork and onions and then they got married. Inger was a really nice lady, and I liked her a lot. But she wasn't my mother, she was my ma. So, the three of us, Pa, Ma, and me, joined a wagon train, and before we could meet up with the rest of the families, my brother Hoss was born. Inger didn't die giving Hoss life, but she did die just a few weeks later. Pa says the Indians who killed her were trying to find a bad man. They found him, but they killed Inger while they were looking. I wasn't a baby then, so I remember Inger, but Hoss was a baby. He doesn't remember his mother.

Pa, Hoss, and I kept moving west. A couple of the ladies in the wagon train helped me and Pa take care of Hoss. I didn't really need their help, but Pa said all babies should be taken care of by a lady sometimes. The thing was, most of the time, when Hoss would cry, I was the only one who could make him stop. The ladies didn't like that, and sometimes, Pa didn't either. He would rock Hoss and pace around outside of the wagon with him and sing to him, but sometimes, Hoss would just keep crying. I think he wondered why his ma wasn't there anymore. I didn't know what to tell him.

After a long, long time, Pa, Hoss, and me got to Virginia City. After another long time, we built our house and bought some cattle and Pa said we were finally ranchers. Pa was real proud of the Ponderosa, and he always said he was proud of me and Hoss, too. Everything was good. I had a pa and a little brother, and even though I missed Inger sometimes, a lot, I thought we were a good family.

Then one day, Pa went to New Orleans. That's really far away and his trip took a very long time. Mrs. Shaughnessy came out to the ranch and stayed with Hoss and me. She's a nice lady, too, but she isn't my mother or Hoss's either. When Pa came home from New Orleans, he brought a surprise. Pa met another lady and they got married. Her name was Marie. Hoss thought she was real nice. Nicer than the wagon train ladies and Mrs. Shaughnessy. I guess I did, too, but not right away. I didn't like it when Pa made me wait so he could spend time with Marie. But, I reckon that didn't happen very often. And I didn't like it when Hoss would bump his knee or need help with his boots and Marie would be the one to help him.

Then one day, Pa and Marie told Hoss and me that a baby was coming. Pa was real happy, and so was Marie. Hoss didn't really understand what having a new baby meant, and I tried to explain it to him, all except for one part. The part where the new baby's mother dies.

After a bunch of months, it was time for the baby to be born. Pa was worried because it was taking so long, and Hoss got scared because Pa was scared. I took Hoss out to the barn to see the horses. Horses always make Hoss happy, and just as Hoss and I were filling the feed troughs with sweet hay, Hop Sing came out to tell us that we had a new baby in the family. Hoss and I went inside, and Hop Sing took us up to Pa and Marie's room. I didn't want to go in, because I figured Pa would be real sad, but Hop Sing said I had to go in.

I was real happy when I saw Marie sitting in bed, holding my new baby brother. Pa was real happy, too. That baby was Joe, my little brother. Joe had a mother at first, just like Hoss. She taught Joe lots of things, and she took real good care of him and Hoss. She sang to them and read to them while I was out helping Pa. She played with them while I did my chores and my school work. She helped Joe learn to walk and talk. She made sure the clothes were mended, and when Pa was tired at night, she got him his pipe and slippers and rubbed his shoulders and poured his brandy. She made Pa smile and laugh. And she took care of me, even though I wasn't sure I wanted her to.

And then, two weeks ago, Marie died. Joe isn't a baby anymore. He's three and a half years old. But, he had a mother for those three and a half years. And, he cries all the time because he misses her. Hoss tries to make him laugh, but it doesn't work anymore. Pa holds Joe and rocks him and sings to him, but Joe still cries.

I know what the word independence means. It means being able to take care of yourself. It means not expecting help from anybody, but taking it when it's offered. It means knowing that your mother wanted you, needed you, and loved you, and making her proud up in heaven by being a good person, loving your pa and your brothers, and being nice to people.

So it's up to me to teach Joe how to get his independence so he can stop crying. And I guess I need to work on Hoss, too, because he misses Marie something awful. I reckon they'll always miss her, because I miss her, and Inger, and the ma I never even knew. I just want them to be happy again. Then maybe, we can all help Pa.

Ben turned his back to the desk at the front of the room. He didn't remember walking as he'd read, but the stinging tears in his eyes made him glad he'd put some distance between himself and Miss Smith. The words on the paper blurred, and Ben closed his eyes against his son's final wish: "Then maybe, we can all help Pa."

"Mr. Cartwright," Miss Smith whispered, "as I said, your son is a remarkable young man."

Ben's jaw flinched and his lips trembled. "Yes, he is, Miss Smith. Yes, he is."