MEMORIES
Little Joe Cartwright stood staring through the shop window. He was looking at a pair of boots. They were made of dark brown leather. The price tag said $20.00. Joe sighed. He didn't know where he'd get that kind of scratch. Joe glanced down at the dusty pair he was wearing and imagined he was wearing the pair in the shop. He sighed again. They were only his fourth pair, as his feet seemed to grow slowly, but those boots were wearing out fast.
Joe rubbed his eyes. He sure didn't feel like being woken up at six-thirty in the morning. He wished he could have another half-hour at least.
"Good morning, Joe." The voice was tender.
"Morning, Pa." Joe peered through his bleary eyes to make out the fuzzy figures of his brothers, Hoss and Adam. "Morning, Hoss. Morning, Adam."
"Good morning, Joe." they chorused.
"I have a surprise for you." his Pa said.
Joe sat up a bit more. "A surprise?"
Ben nodded.
"Really?"
"Yes, Joe. Really."
Hoss stepped forward and handed Joe something wrapped in tissue paper. Joe excitedly tore at the paper, sending bits flying everywhere. At last all the paper was off. Joe held up the gift. It was pair of boots.
"I thought you should have your own boots."
"Gee, Pa, thanks!" Joe grinned with appreciation and pride. His very own pair of boots!
"That's alright, son." Ben ruffled his youngest son's hair.
Joe tore his eyes away from the boots and walked towards the hitching post outside the Bucket of Blood. As he neared the place designated to meet Hoss, Joe noticed a woman selling tickets for a raffle. First prize was a brand new bridle. Second prize was twenty-five dollars, and third prize was a gunbelt. Joe walked towards the woman. A small crowd had gathered to buy tickets. Joe quickly fished a dollar out of his pocket and bought a ticket. He glanced at the black figure scribbled on the slip of paper. It was number eight. Joe gave a short laugh. Lucky number eight.
Little Joe sighed. It was the eighth day of the eighth month. It was his eighth year. It was also the eighth hour of the day. Time seemed to go by so slowly. Eight...
When would he ever get older? Joe wanted to be like his older like his brothers. Why must he be the youngest? And why was it always eight...?
That number seemed to turn up everywhere. It seemed to follow the boy. He'd open one of Adam's books, and the number would be staring him in his face. When he took his maths lessons in class, the problems always seemed to be based on eight. He only ever seemed to get eight out of ten for tests and competitions. He only had eight friends. He had already been in eight fights, a record for his age. The only thing he really wanted to do with eight was have eight girls. But Little Joe didn't think that likely to happen...at least, not until he grew up.
That brought back to Joe's mind his first question. When would he ever get older?
Joe sighed. He didn't win anything. Not even a lousy gunbelt. He glanced up at the sky. It was overcast; there would soon be a storm. As he walked slowly to the hitching post, he felt a drop of rain on his hand. He hoped Hoss would soon be there so they could start for home.
A few minutes later, Hoss walked up. "If we don't get home soon, we'll be caught in the storm. And if we do, we may hafta wait 'til Adam comes ta fetch us from some outlaws." he joked.
Little Joe snuggled close to his brothers under a pile of sheets. Suddenly, there was a loud booming noise. Little Joe stiffened.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"It's okay, Li'l Joe, that was jest thunder." Hoss comforted his younger brother.
"Oh." There was obvious relief in the boy's voice.
"Hoss, maybe we should send this boy to bed. It's getting kind of late, and – "
"No!" Joe cried, sitting bolt upright.
Hoss laughed and ruffled Joe's hair. "It's okay, I wouldn't let 'im send ya ta bed."
Joe sighed. "Good."
After a moment, Adam pressed his finger to his lips and murmured, "Shh."
Joe immediately fell silent. Hoss instinctively leaned closer to his brothers.
Adam nodded at his brothers.
The signal, Joe thought.
Adam quietly and stealthily moved out of the front door. Two minutes later, Hoss and Joe opened the door and looked outside into the dark. Hoss put his arm around Joe. He felt the young boy trembling.
"Hey, it's okay, Li'l Joe." Hoss whispered.
Joe just nodded.
Suddenly, there was a noise.
Joe's eyes widened considerably. "What was that?"
"Sounds like someone's kicked over a barrel."
"You don't mean…?"
Hoss gave a soft laugh. "Oh, Joe, the saying is 'kicked the bucket'. Not the barrel."
"Oh." said a relieved Joe.
Two minutes later, Adam came back to the door.
"Well?" demanded an impatient Hoss.
"We got him."
"Good."
Adam tapped Joe's shoulder. "Okay, buddy, back to bed with you. And, uh, don't tell Pa."
"Okay, Adam. Night, everyone."
Joe glanced at the Halloween preparations going on at the houses as they passed by. He remembered the first Halloween he had stayed up until midnight.
The clock struck midnight.
"Now's the time!" Joe exclaimed excitedly.
"I still don't know what ya want with us, Li'l Joe." Hoss said warily.
"Oh, I wouldn't take any notice of him." Adam replied in a bored tone.
"Oh, yeah?" Joe countered. "Then why are you here?"
"I'm here because you dragged me out of my bed." Adam said, his eyes starting to flash slightly.
"Now, Adam." Hoss laid his hand lightly on his brother's knee. "Joe only wants a li'l fun." He looked at Joe. "Don'tcha?"
Joe nodded. "Mm-hm." He opened a nearby cupboard.
"What's in there?" Adam asked.
"You'll see." Joe dragged something out. Something long and ivory in colour.
Hoss' eyes opened wide. "Is - is that what I think it is, Joe?" he whispered.
"Guess so." He shrugged.
"Is it real?"
Joe looked at Hoss as if he were a complete idiot...which he seemed at that moment.
"No."
Adam sighed. "What are you planning to do with a fake skeleton?"
Joe shrugged again. "I thought we might have a li'l fun."
Adam eyes him suspiciously. "Fun, eh? Just how?"
Joe grinned, then bent down and whispered to his brothers, "Just wait 'til Pa sees he slept with a skeleton."
"Joe, you cain't do that!" Hoss cried.
"Cain't I?" Joe whined.
"Oh, alright."
"No, Hoss was right. Joseph, do you want the tanning of a lifetime?"
"Nope."
"Then don't do this."
"But I won't git a tannin', Adam. You'll make sure of that, won't ya?"
"No, I won't. I'll not have anything to do with this."
Joe turned away sulkily. "Party-pooper."
"Oh, fine." Adam threw up his hands in exasperation.
Joe giggled. He hadn't received a tanning at all. Pa had actually been amused by it. That had softened Adam a bit, but not much.
"What ya gigglin' at, Joe?" Hoss asked.
"Oh, uh, nothin'."
It was two days later. The storm had passed, and everything was relatively quiet. Pa wanted Joe to break in a new horse, so Joe now walked towards the corral.
"Awww, c'mon, Adam...please? For your little brother?" Joe gave his eldest brother puppy-dog eyes.
"No. You have to do it yourself, Joe. You'll never learn, otherwise." was Adam's firm reply.
Joe sighed. He had been asking for ten minutes, but now knew that it was hopeless. Adam was stubborn.
Hoss frowned. "Adam, what's Joe doin'? He shouldn't be doin' that stuff alone yet!"
Adam smiled grimly. "He has to do it himself. If he doesn't, he'll never learn."
"Yeah, but ain't ya bein' jest a bit tough...?"
Adam shook his head and walked to his Pa.
Instead of a warm welcome, he got an incredulous outburst. "He has to do it himself?!?"
Adam sighed. Why didn't anyone ever see his point of view?
Joe had sensed this was what Adam was feeling. But, even so, he didn't think he should break a horse yet. He was only fifteen. He should do it with help. Then, when he was seventeen, he should be ready to do it by himself. All this Joe thought with a touch of satisfaction. But he was scared. He wasn't even sure he was doing the right thing when he merely helped Adam. So why did he have to do it by himself? He felt like throwing a tantrum.
Joe smiled. All the memories were rushing to him.
"I thought you should have your own boots."…
When would he ever get older?...
"Oh, Joe, the saying is 'kicked the bucket'. Not the barrel."…
"Just wait 'til Pa sees he slept with a skeleton."…
"Awww, c'mon, Adam...please? For your little brother?"…
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story or 'Bonanza' - these all belong to the writers of the show. I do, however, own the story and it is protected in my name under the Australian Copyright Law dating back to 2007.