First story in a new fandom!
Okay, so this fandom is not very new, I actually grew up on this show. I came across the DVDs some time ago and got this idea that wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it down. After several weeks of wondering if anyone would read it, I decided to take a chance. So, here you go.
This story is dedicated to my siblings, particularly my oldest sister, Joylynn, who watched this show with me on many quiet afternoons.
A big thanks to my beta, dlldarkwolf, for going over a story for a fandom she knew next to nothing about.
DISCLAIMER: I am not old enough to own this show or any of the characters in it.
Enjoy ...
Whenever I look back to those early days, growing up on Walton's Mountain, it's hard to think of a time I wasn't surrounded by family. While I love my brothers and sisters, I can remember a few times in my teens that I wished for a little less company. However, there was one day in the 1930's that my search for solitude taught me a valuable lesson about appreciating those around me.
John Boy climbed into the hay loft, hoping for just one minute to himself. A cousin of theirs had come for a visit and to help out with a big lumber contact. That was all well and good, but as long as Jeremiah was here, John-Boy was bunking with his brothers.
Between Jim-Bob's incessant questions, not to mention a recent quarrel between Jason and Ben over a lost nickel, there hadn't been a quiet night since their cousin arrived. On top of that, John-Boy didn't have access to his writing desk. It was bad enough not being able to find a quiet place to think without having a place to record what thoughts he was able to get.
"Hey, John-Boy!"
"Not now, Erin," he called back.
What was the point of being alone in the hay loft if you carried on conversations with your sister on the ground? Unfortunately, it seemed that Erin was not going to take the hint. A minute later, she was sticking her head into the loft.
"I said not now," John-Boy repeated, irritably.
"Momma said she needs you to get some flour and cheese from Ike's."
"Can't Jason do it?"
"Jason's gone fishing with Mary Ellen."
Figures. The first time he gets a minute to himself and he has to do extra chores. Maybe he could get some thinking done on the road – or he could if Ben and Erin hadn't insisted on tagging along. Ben spent the entire time trying to convince them that he was not the one who lost the nickel and Erin asked every few steps if they could add something or another to the shopping list. It made the way to Ike's seem twice as long.
Once at the store, Momma's list was filled quickly, and John-Boy tried to get home in half the time it took to get there. Once back, he dropped the groceries in the kitchen andimmediately headed back to the hay loft – or he would have if Ben and Erin had not claimed it for some children's game they just had to play on that spot. Just as well, he was too frustrated to sit still anyway. Letting Momma know that he was going to look for a honey tree, John-Boy pulled on his boots and headed for the road.
"Where you going?" Jim-Bob asked when he past his youngest siblings on the porch.
"Just for a walk," he muttered.
"Can we come?" Elizabeth asked.
"No."
Apparently, 'no' meant 'yes' to a five-year-old. He wasn't even out of sight of the house before his two shadows were racing after him. It seemed Momma said they could help find the honey tree, which meant there was no sending them back. Figures.
"Are you going to bring the honey home, John-Boy?" Elizabeth asked after awhile.
"He can't" Jim-Bob answered for him. "He needs gloves and a hood for that."
While he appreciated not having to respond to their questions, the noise was still more than he wanted. Taking advantage of his longer stride, John-Boy left the regular path and hurried into the trees. Maybe if they lost sight of him, the two would just go home. No such luck, as their voices echoed after him. He didn't respond to their calls, just went deeper into the woods. Their voices were starting to fade, the world was beginning to quiet down–
"GAAAH!"
John-Boy's scream tore through the silence as he crumpled to the ground, pain emanating from his ankle. Almost too afraid to look, he turned his eyes down and gasped at the sharp metal trap that seemed to have swallowed his foot whole. His boot was beginning to turn red among the jagged teeth and it was all he could do not to pass out from the pain.
"John-Boy!" Jim-Bob called from somewhere nearby.
"John-Boy, where are you!" Elizabeth's frantic voice added.
Never before had he been so glad to be followed. Managing a shaky call of his own, he lay in the brush and waited to be found. In minutes, his two shadows emerged from a clump of trees and froze when they saw him. They both turned pale and he could see tears beginning to fill his sister's eyes.
"It's okay, Honey," he whispered, though the pain was making it hard to stay awake. "I'll be okay."
"Come on," Jim-Bob urged, hurrying to one side of the trap.
Elizabeth nodded and went to the other side, her small fingers sliding between the metal teeth. Unfortunately, even with all three pulling together, they just didn't have the strength to open the trap. Slumping back in the brush, John-Boy turned his head to his frightened siblings.
"We can't open it," he gasped. "We need … help. You …You need to go get help."
"We can't leave you here all alone," Elizabeth protested. "What if you get cold?"
John-Boy couldn't help but chuckle at that, though in all seriousness, it was a real threat. These mountains got cold at night and sunset was getting closer every minute. Although, he was more worried about passing out from blood loss than getting a chill. However, either would kill him if he didn't get help soon.
"If you get help quick … I won't have time … to get cold."
His argument seemed to persuade them, but Elizabeth still insisted on staying to take care of him. If he were honest with himself, John-Boy would have to admit that he was grateful for the company. It was getting hard to keep his thoughts straight and her incessant questions might just be what he needed to keep focused. Besides, Jim-Bob could run a lot faster if he didn't have to keep pace with their sister.
"I'll be back in no time, John-Boy," his brother vowed, covering him with his coat. "You just wait right here, and I'll bring help. Don't you worry."
"I'll be here," he whispered back.
He listened to the sound of Jim-Bob's footsteps as they faded away, sending up a prayer that he would find someone soon. Elizabeth echoed their brother's words, that everything would be okay. He felt something soft pushed under his head, but couldn't concentrate enough to figure out – or even care – what it was.
"You hurting real bad, John-Boy?"
"Yeah," he sighed, knowing that lying was useless. "Yeah, Elizabeth … I am."
"You want me to tell you a story? When I had that bad stomach ache, Mary Ellen told me stories until I felt better."
While there was a slight difference between a stomach ache and a mangled foot, he appreciated the sentiment. In fact, he was grateful for it. If there was one thing Elizabeth could do better than anyone it was tell a story. It might even help him to have something to focus on.
"Yeah," John-Boy muttered, "I'd like a story."
*F*A*I*T*H*
Jim-Bob ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Hearing John-Boy scream like that had been scary, not as much as seeing his foot in that trap. It was like a metal animal was trying to eat his brother. There was blood on his boot. Even if he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the sight of all that blood.
Pausing for just a second to catch his breath, Jim-Bob looked around. Where was he? Where was the road? John-Boy had gone off the road to get to the trap, so going back the way he came would have to bring him back to it … right? Taking off again, he slowed enough to look around. The road had to be somewhere, and if he could find it, he could find home.
He hurried through the woods, dodging trees and jumping over low logs, until at last he came to the road. The hard part was over, but he was still a long way from help. Pushing himself harder than he ever had before, Jim-Bob sprinted down the road and didn't stop until he reached his front porch. Nearly collapsing on the empty steps, he gasped for air and tried to find the strength to get inside.
"Hey, Jim-Bob," Jason greeted, his voice curious. "What's going on?"
He tried to answer, but he just couldn't catch his breath. His big brother frowned, practically picking him up off the steps and carrying him inside. Good, he didn't think he would have made it on his own.
"Momma! Grandma! Something's wrong with Jim-Bob!"
Jason's yell brought a lot more than his just Momma and Grandma. Soon the boy was surrounded by his family, all worried and wondering what happened. Someone handed him a glass of water and he gulped it down as fast as he could. The sooner he could talk, the sooner he could get help for John-Boy.
"Not so fast," Grandma tutted, taking the cup. "You'll make yourself sick."
"But I gotta talk," he insisted, finally gaining his voice.
"Why, son?" Daddy asked.
"John-Boy stepped in a bear trap!"
It was as if he announced the barn was on fire. Everyone started talking at once and moving around. Grandpa went out to the barn to get some tools while Daddy and Cousin Jeremiah headed for the truck. Jason and Ben – who seemed to have forgotten their fight about the nickel – grabbed lamps and Reckless, while Erin helped Mama get out bandages and Mary Ellen ran to Ike's to call for the doctor. Since he knew where it happened, Jim-Bob got to ride up front with Daddy and show him the way. Only problem was, he wasn't really sure how far he had run.
He had been so worried about John-Boy, he didn't pay attention to where he found the road. Jim-Bob could only watch they trees as carefully as he could and try to remember where he came out. If he could find that spot, they could find his brother. He just prayed it wasn't too late.
*H*O*P*E*
"And then Daddy Bear said to Momma Bear, someone's been sleeping in my bed …"
John-Boy smiled to himself at the thought of sleep. He knew he shouldn't, but he was getting so tired and cold. The jacket he was using as a blanket was far too small to be truly effective and the fading light was quickly causing the heat of the day to seep away.
"John-Boy, do you think Baby Bear would have shared if Goldilocks had asked for some porridge?"
"I don't know," he murmured, "I reckon so."
"I would have shared if she asked me. I would have given her my whole bowl."
John-Boy chuckled at the statement, especially since – even with his muddled thoughts – he could remember that his youngest sister never cared much for porridge and only ate it because Grandma wouldn't settle for anything less. He, on the other hand, could really do with a hot bowl of food right now. Not that he felt like eating, but the warm part was just too good to pass up.
"You wanna hear another one, John-Boy?"
"Sure, Honey."
He couldn't manage anymore than that, couldn't even keep his eyes open anymore. He just focused on his little sister's retelling of Little Red Riding Hood as he prayed Jim-Bob would hurry. He was so out of it, that he could have sworn he smelled the wolf. He even thought he could feel it licking his face – wait …
"How are you doing, Son?"
"Daddy?"
He almost cried from relief when he forced his eyes open to see his family looking down at him, though they were hard to see past Reckless. Of course, the relief was short-lived when said family pried open the trap. The metal teeth coming out hurt almost as much as they did when they went in. At least he didn't have the energy to scream this time.
"Easy now," Grandpa soothed, gently lifting his feet.
Daddy took him under his arms as Jason and Ben pushed something underneath him. The next thing he knew, he was rocking in the air with a family member on every side. Jim-Bob and Elizabeth stayed beside him, the latter holding his hand the whole way, just as she had when they had been alone. It was amazing what strength such a small child could have – that both of them had. He wondered on the trip home if they understood what they had done; if they knew that they had saved his life. He would have died up there without them, if they hadn't followed him.
John-Boy wasn't really aware of the trip through the woods and the rumble of the car ride almost lulled him to sleep. It was only Elizabeth's insistence that she finish Little Red Riding Hood that kept him aware until they came to the house. The whirlwind of activity there was a blur of bandages and questions he couldn't understand well enough to answer. John-Boy knew he was fading fast and the last thing he was aware of was the doctor taking hold of his ankle, a sharp pain, and everything went black.
*L*O*V*E*
Elisabeth peeked through the rails into the parlor. She had been sent to bed long before, but just had to know how John-Boy was doing. The doctor was talking to Mama and Daddy about how the trap had broken her brother's ankle and he wouldn't be able to walk right for eight whole weeks! She couldn't imagine not being able to walk that long.
"What was a trap like that doing out there anyway?" Grandma grumbled. "Irresponsible, that's what it is!"
"Well, don't you worry about that," Grandpa assured her. "That trap won't be hurting anybody else."
"Any idea who put it there?" Momma asked.
"Sheriff's working on it," Daddy replied.
"Well, in any case, he's a lucky boy," Dr. B commented. "If he had stayed up there any longer, things might have been very different."
Elizabeth pulled back from the rails as Momma and Daddy thanked the doctor for all he did for John-Boy, but she wasn't really listening anymore. Tip-toeing back upstairs, she turned toward her brother's room. With him being hurt, Cousin Jeremiah had moved out to the barn, so John-Boy could have a proper bed. The lamp was lit when she came to the door and Elizabeth could hear the soft sound of a pencil scratching against paper. He must be feeling better if he was writing again.
"John-Boy?" she called, pushing the door open a little.
"Hey, what are you still doing up?"
She took his smile as an invitation and approached his bed. Normally she would climb up and sit next to him, but didn't want to risk touching his hurt foot. He set his tablet on his lap and looked her in the eye.
"So, you brings you out of bed at this hour?"
"I was just wondering … were you gonna die up on the mountain?"
He laughed softly, but Elizabeth didn't see what was funny about something like that. If John-Boy was gone, who would help Daddy at the Mill? Who would take her and Jim-Bob fishing? Who would write poetry for Momma? The thought of it almost made her cry.
"Oh, Honey, it's okay," John-Boy assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "How could I die like that with you looking after me the way you did?"
It was true, she did give him her coat as a pillow and told him every fairy tale she could think of to help him feel better, but she had never thought he could really die from a hurt foot. She never dreamed an ugly piece of metal could kill someone, especially her brother. But what the doctor said …
"John-Boy, if we didn't find you or Jim-Bob didn't run so fast –"
"Don't think like that," he interrupted. "There is no sense in worrying about stuff that didn't happen."
Elizabeth nodded and returned the hug, careful to stay away from his foot. She was glad that old trap hadn't killed her brother. He always knew just what to say to make everything better; the best brother ever … or at least one of them.
"John-Boy, how did you get so smart?"
"Reading, I reckon."
"Do you think you can help me with another problem?"
"After today, Elizabeth, I would help you with anything."
"Well, the other day Ben was showing me how he could spin a nickel like a top …"
She explained how she had tried to do the same thing, only she did it on the front porch and not the kitchen table, but how was she supposed to know that nickels can fit between floor boards? After he stopped laughing – which wasn't helpful at all – John-Boy advised her to just tell Jason and Ben that she was the one who lost the nickel.
"I don't know," she murmured. "Don't you think they'll be mad?"
"I think they will be so relieved that they don't have to fight anymore, they won't care. Besides, someone can always climb under the porch and get the nickel back."
Elizabeth thanked him and hurried off to bed. No need to wake the boys just to tell them where their nickel was. Besides, she could get it back better than they could. She was the smallest after all.
The next morning, she retrieved the lost coin and – aside from a stern lecture from Grandma about getting her dress dirty – was declared a hero for the second time that week. Of course, her brothers probably wouldn't think that way when they discovered that she lost the thing in the first place, but it was nice while it lasted. The best part was that John-Boy got crutches and was able to come down for lunch. Having him there and nobody fighting was the greatest feeling in the world.
I don't know if my youngest brother and sister ever truly understood how close I came to dying up on the mountain that fateful day. It was many years before I fully realized it, after reading an article on wound shock. All I know is, I am truly grateful to have been followed by those two little children who just wanted to find a honey tree.
So, what do you think?
Feedback is always welcome and, if you liked it, I have a few ideas for more adventures on Walton's Mountain.