When Words are Hard to Find
Chapter 1 – Homecomings and High-water Pants
Little Joe had shoved a half piece of toast into his mouth as he'd glanced toward the stairway. His eyes widened as he began laughing so hard that the soggy bread flew across the table and stuck onto Hoss' hands and plate.
Focusing an angry glare on his younger brother, the tall seventeen-year-old began to rise from his chair as Ben yelled, "Hoss, sit back down," followed closely by, "Control yourself, Joseph! There is nothing that funny going on."
The youngest Cartwright had passed from his initial reaction to a full-out laughing jag as he pointed to the stairs and choked out, "Oh yes there is!" Ben's low chuckle was joined by Hoss's more boisterous laugh as Adam continue down the steps and walked to his place at the table.
His face held no hint of knowing what was causing his family's jocularity, and he spoke with mock hauteur "Well that's hardly the greeting I expected on my first morning back on the ranch." Then he laughed too as he recalled what he'd seen reflecting from his bedroom mirror after he'd donned his old work clothes.
Ben gave thanks when his oldest son took a seat across the table from him: a spot that had remained empty far too long. "Well this confirms what I thought when you arrived yesterday." He laughed again. "I thought you had stretched out some; I didn't know how much until now. I actually thought you'd be a little heavier since you were working mentally instead of physically at school, but you must have thinned as you grew taller."
"I did put on weight at first," the thin, muscular young man admitted. "But I knew I'd have a hard time getting used to working on the ranch again if I didn't stay active, so I joined a group that swam almost every day; did some barbell lifting in the gymnasium, and rode at a friend's estate to stay in saddle form." He snorted. "But I didn't realize how much I'd grown until I put my old clothes on and this happened…" Adam stood, modeling the ankle high pants he had to hold by the waistband to prevent them plunging to the floor, and stretched out his arm to accentuate how the shirt cuff barely made it to his wrist. "I must be two inches taller, and even my feet must have grown because my old boots are too short.
Hop Sing came running with a place setting when he heard Adam's voice. "What you like for breakfast?" He asked. After eying the ill-fitting clothes, he added, "I glad you home, Missa Adam. I take care of you now. You skinny. They not feed you at expensive school?" He laughed, "You need new clothes. Look like 10 pound potatoes stuck in 5 pound sack."
"I'll have whatever these three had, Hop Sing, and thanks again for the great welcome home dinner last night." Adam flicked a remaining lump of Joe's toast from the tablecloth, "Amazing as it seems, I have actually missed these sophisticated meals with the Cartwright boys at the Ponderosa."
With breakfast completed, Ben ordered, "Adam, change into different clothes and we'll ride into town. I'm sure a lot of people are anxious to see you. We can stop and visit a few of them after we get you refitted." As Adam headed upstairs—holding tight so as not to lose his pants—Ben directed his attention to the other boys. "You two get outside and make sure our horses are saddled and ready to go."
Hoss and Joe rushed for the door, nearly tripping each other in the process. They both knew Pa had just declared a Cartwright holiday, and they weren't about to wait around for him to change his mind.
Chapter 2 – Fathers and Sons
Over the next weeks Adam was welcomed back easily by his brothers who seemed happy to have him around again. He figured their acceptance had much to do with splitting chores three ways now instead of two. Little Joe had stayed his impish self with his pranks increasing in proportion to the number of his birthdays. He was in sixth grade, and Ben had declared the boy, "As smart as a whip" even though the child himself was not enamored with school.
Hoss had changed from a boy to a man, besting his older brother in height by several inches. He'd completed his secondary lessons at 15, and had chosen to end his formal education then. He'd written his older brother that he'd decided to be a rancher, and he had all the book learning he needed for that. The rest of what he had to know would come from actually doing it. Adam had known Inger for such a short time, but he did remember her being much like the brother he was getting to know again: kind and gentle spirited, with great love for the world and people around him.
While all was going well with his brother, he couldn't say the same about how he and his father were doing. The problems had begun early on, but they'd been small digs, and were often softened with a grin or waggish nudge as they'd butted heads. Over time the verbal skirmishes had taken a nasty turn and they'd begun to distance themselves from each other whenever possible.
The initial incident had occurred his second day back as Adam had reached over Ben's shoulder, pointing to a series of numbers in the ranch journal his father was working on. "Pa, if you combine this group of figures with the other credits, it's easier to get a quick bottom line for each transaction."
Ben had waved him away with a mild rebuke. "I think I'm doing just fine; you don't need you to tell me how to do my job just yet." He'd followed that with a smile, as he'd gone back to work using the same method.
A similar scene had played out at the hardware store in town when Adam had asked the owner if he carried a new metal block and tackle that was replacing wooden ones in timbering. When he'd replied that they did, and had asked if he and Ben would like to see it, his father had grumbled, "The ones we use are top-of-the-line. Just because my son is aware of something new doesn't mean it's better."
Adam had countered, "I'm saying we need them. I was only interested in knowing if they had made it out West yet, and thought you'd want to see one. There's no harm in looking." They had looked at the wares and Ben had seemed interested at the time. But on the wagon ride home Ben had turned toward his son with a look as hard as stone.
"Listen, Adam. I'm still your father, and even though you're obviously well-educated and aware of the newest things, I'd appreciate it if you'd not contradict me in front of my business associates."
Adam had lived with his father long enough to know that when his face was set as it was, there was no defense or discussion allowed, and had decided it was better to remain quiet and let the moment pass.
The verbal sparring matches became commonplace and could arise from any comment Adam made. Adam always backed down and walked away in confused frustration when he saw his father begin to clench his jaw and fists. He'd even notice that Hoss and Little Joe were giving the two of them a wide berth whenever they were "discussing" something in raised voices.
Hoss had even gone to Adam and suggested, "I know it seems like Pa don't want to listen to none-a-your good ideas, but I don't think that's really true. He hears ya just fine; it might just take him a while to really accept you might have a better idea than him."
Adam appreciated his brother's insight, and did know that in the past when his father might not have seemed interested in an idea, he'd usually soften and begin to adjust or implement it as he was able to appreciate its value. Still whatever was happening now was different than he'd ever experienced. His father had never been shy about telling anyone that their thinking may not work for him, but at times Adam had the uneasy feeling that his father saw his ideas as offensive or that in having them, he was being disloyal.
Chapter 3 – Mysteries and Missed Opportunities
The confrontations continued and deepened until Adam found himself spending more evenings away from home. He would have preferred it not be that way, but there was such tension between him and his father that it was easier to vacate the ranch than sit in silence, fearing that anything he'd say would start another argument.
Ben hadn't been vocal about his son's absence in the evenings, although he usually glared at him as he prepared to leave. But after four consecutive nights of being away, the man finally made his position known. "Are you going into town again?" inquired Ben as he saw Adam grab his coat after dinner.
"Thought I might."
"You spend an awful lot of time there, son, and I don't approve of your trips on the evenings of a work week. You should stay here and get a good night's rest."
"I'm always home by midnight, and I'm the first one up in the morning, so you can't possibly think I'm not contributing as much as anyone else?"
"I don't know what to think, Adam. You don't tell me what you do in town and you seem to mope around until you leave, so you might as well go. You used to be more sensible before you got your expensive education."
"Pa," Adam began without knowing what to say. "I spent so many nights up studying in Boston that I just got used to sleeping less. And it's so quiet out here compared to the city that it's almost hard for me to drift off sometimes, even when I'm dead tired."
Ben snapped, "So the Ponderosa isn't exciting enough for you?"
"That's not it..." Adam thought about turning around and going to his father, but finally stuck his hat on his head and resumed his exit. "I'm glad to be home. It's taking a little getting used to again. The city isn't better than home, they're just different." With his hand on the front door's latch, Adam turned once more to the chair where Ben was sitting. "I could stay in tonight. We could play chess or talk."
"Wouldn't want to force you to endure the dull company out here," Ben grumbled. "Just be home at a reasonable hour."
Adam didn't go to town, preferring to ride the moonlit trails near the ranch and think through his options. It was early when he returned and headed inside.
Ben was still downstairs reading, although he'd been retracing the same sentences as he tried to focus. "You're back early," he noted as Adam came through the door. "Virginia City not exciting enough either?" He hated what he was saying even as the words left his mouth; a condition he was feeling often.
"Just have something I need to do yet tonight." He barely glanced toward his father as he headed up the steps to his room. Once there, he sorted through the papers on his desk and placed a number of books into a travel case. With his room in order, he sat at his desk and began to write: Dear Pa…
It was after two in the morning when he finally turned his lamp down and laid across his bed, wondering if he was doing the right thing.
In Ben's room a restless father tossed and turned; trying to find Adam in the fog he was walking through. He couldn't understand why he felt so lost in embracing his son's return. The years away hadn't changed the boy: not really. He was still as thoughtful, caring and engaging as he'd always been. But whenever he brought up an idea or suggested a different method or concept, Ben bristled. It had gotten so bad that he didn't even listen—just shut his mind down and reacted with anger or disdain. Why? He'd asked himself that again and again without finding the answer. He knew the situation with his son was worsening by the day and he had no clue how to make it better.
The following morning all four Cartwrights were seated at breakfast when Adam broke the silence. "Pa, I think that if we would move about ten of the men working the south slope farther west for the remainder of the week, we'd get more timber cut while the rest of the crew could clear out what's already down. The cutters and clearers will be tripping over each other the way we have them positioned now…"
Ben stopped listening as soon as Adam said, 'I think' and a fierce foreboding look crossed his face as Adam had continued to explain his views. Ben stood in one fierce, fluid effort, throwing his napkin on the table as he looked squarely at his oldest son. "I don't know why you think you need to reinvent the wheel every time we begin a new project. Things were just fine while you were away, and you need to understand that I am still in charge of this ranch…and this family." He walked away without a look back, heading to his room where he sat on the edge of the bed cradling his head in his hands; knowing he had just crossed a line with no idea of how to step back behind it again.
Little Joe and Hoss had watched in frozen terror as their father had spoken, and stared at their brother in disbelief once Ben was gone.
"It's okay, guys." Adam soothed. "You know Pa always gets a little tense when there's a big job on the line,"
The two younger boys relaxed. "Hey, Adam," offered Hoss. "How's about we all head over to the fishin' hole on Sunday and drop a worm in the water or go swimmin?"
"Sounds like a good idea. We can head out after church." What Adam didn't say, was that it might be a very good idea to spend some time together before it was too late.
Joe released a deep sigh as the tension in the room broke, and the promise of a fun day in the near future took shape. "I'll tell Pa," he shouted back while running up the steps to find his father.
Chapter 4 – The Final Straw
The week ground slowly by until the Cartwrights finally found themselves sitting in a church service that seemed interminably long to Little Joe and Hoss, whose minds were already racing to the lake for some fun. At long last, Ben pulled the wagon into their yard and the two ran to the house to gather the needed items for the outing.
"Are you coming with us Pa?" Adam inquired as he helped get the team into the corral and took the harnesses into the barn.
"No, you three go on and have a good time. Just remember that tomorrow is a work day, so don't stay out too late."
Thinking his father had gone on to the house, Adam muttered, "How can I forget that it's a work day. That's all I ever hear around here. 'Don't suggest anything, just work.' 'Don't think: work.' 'Go to bed so you can work in the…'" He spun around when he heard Ben draw a deep breath, knowing his father hadn't left the barn after all, and had surely heard his litany.
"Did you expect that you would come home and simply begin to run things? To think of the small fortune I spent on your education only to have your newfound knowledge thrown in my face at every opportunity!"
"I'm sorry Pa. I didn't mean…" His profession was sincere, but his father had already turned and walked away.
Chapter 5 – When A Good Day Goes Bad
After having their lunch and feeding worms to the fish, as Hoss called fishing without catching anything, the brothers slipped on old pants and swung into the water from the rope they'd tied on an overhanging branch. Worn out from the weeks of work and tension, Adam laid back on a flat, warm rock to dry off, and fell asleep while Hoss and Joe tried again with the fish.
Having no more luck than earlier, the two boys abandoned the lake and snuck up, pouncing on their sleeping brother. Adam yelped as they landed, realizing his snooze had continued long enough for him to be taking home a reminder of the day in the form of a sunburn on his chest, arms, lower legs, and feet. He groaned as he contemplated the discomfort he'd be in over the next few days while the burn would go through the process of hurting and blistering, to itching and peeling, before finally beginning to heal. He also knew he wouldn't be able to complain without eliciting a lecture from his father about his lack of forethought. With his skin so sensitive, he chose to forego redressing, riding shirtless and barefoot. As he rode, the early evening air cooled his heated skin and kept the strain he'd soon face again over the next confrontation at bay.
Joe got out ahead of his brothers and pulled off the path, dismounted, and ran up to a canyon overlook that he loved. "Hey Adam," he called as he waved to his brothers. "Remember this place we used to come and watch the sunset and shootin stars?"
Adam waved back and called back, "I sure do."
"Let's stay here until dark, okay?"
"Sorry kid, Pa's expecting us home," Adam shouted back; his words echoing back from the canyon walls. "Come on along. We've got to get moving."
By the time he arrived at the point his brother had started from, Little Joe had moved farther along the rocky path. Adam slid off his horse and hot-footed it over to the overlook to see where the boy had gone.
Hoss joined Adam, shaking his head as he scuffed the loose gravel with the tip of his boot. "Come on out little buddy," he called. "Adam's right, Pa's expecting us home…and he won't be happy if we's late."
Joe heard his brothers, but remained hidden between two large boulders. He didn't want to go home—not yet anyway. The day had been so much fun, and he was in no mood to return to the tensions of the house.
"We better go find him," Adam grumbled to his middle brother as he began to turn. "Dang it!" He grabbed his foot and inspected the rapidly spreading blood trail coming from a cut. "These rocks are sharp!"
"You best go back and get your boots on before we head out to grab that little coyote."
"Good idea, Hoss," Adam replied. But as he turned from the ledge, he stepped onto a section of scree, and the small stones rolled under his bare feet like marbles. He tried to right himself and grabbed at brush and rocks to get a handhold, but he'd landed in a flowing stream of stones heading down the side of the hill.
Hoss saw what was happening, but he couldn't reach Adam in time to help. He watched in horror as his brother tumbled and rolled until the rapid descent ended in a good sized bed of prickly pear cactus and creosote brush growing on a rubble-crusted shelf about 50 feet down from where he started.
A painful cry echoed in the canyon, making Joe leave his hiding place to see what was happening. He saw Adam on the ledge below and shimmy down an intersecting path to see how badly his brother was hurt. Hoss followed, grabbing Joe before he got tangled up in the same mess of brush and thorns their brother was in.
Hoss asked anxiously, "How ya doin Adam?" while remaining at a distance, holding Little Joe back.
"Been better," he confessed truthfully. "Hoss, I'm gonna need help and you'll need to go for it."
"Cain't we help ya out?" Hoss hoped the answer would be yes.
Adam panted in pain as he spoke, "I'm in a heap of trouble. I got ripped up pretty bad when I slid, and the worst of it is I'm pinned in cactus. I tried, but I can't stand without shoving all those spines in deeper, so I'll need to lifted out. You and Joe can't do it" He watched the fear overtake the shock on Hoss's face. "I know you want to help, but it's going to take a few men to move me."
"But Adam," whined Hoss. He didn't want to leave his brother alone, especially when he saw the blood beginning to spread out from under Adam's torso.
"Go! And take Joe with you. Bring back leather gloves and hides or those thick Indian blankets we've got in the house—anything you can put over these bushes and cactus plants."
"I want to stay with you," cried Little Joe. "You shouldn't be alone."
"All right," He sighed wearily. "But you can't come any closer. Just stay where you are and talk to me."
Hoss was already up the hill and mounted by the time Adam had agreed to let Little Joe stay, and he rode for home like the devil was chasing him.
The youngster was true to his word. He kept his distance, and kept talking continuously: long after Adam had stopped responding. It seemed like he had talked forever before he heard the rumble of a wagon approaching. "They're here Adam," he breathed in relief, "You'll be all right now."
Ben was astounded at the sight of his son. There was blood everywhere—so much blood that Ben's mouth went dry at the thought. His fear was driven deeper by the fact that they couldn't rouse the young man. In truth, that condition made it easier to extricate him without causing further pain, but Ben and the ranch hands who'd come to help, understood that there was no time to be wasted in getting Adam home to where Paul Martin would be waiting.
Chapter 6 – Bruised and Bloodied, But a Survivor
The worried father was pacing the hallway when Doc Martin finally exited Adam's room. Paul had asked him to leave so he could care for his patient without Ben hovering. "Well?" he snapped.
"He'll be fine Ben. Thankfully there're no broken bones. I stitched the deeper cuts, removed the cactus spines I could see, and applied so many bandages he resembles a mummy. But he's also got a multitude of bad bruises and a mild sunburn so that mix of injuries and conditions will make him very uncomfortable for a few days." Paul smiled as he reached for his friend's shoulder. "There's little doubt that he'll remember this afternoon for some time."
"Do you think he hit his head when he fell? He's been out for so long."
"Unfortunately for him, he came to just as I got to sewing him back together. The kid's like his father though: tough. Thought he might break his teeth from gritting them as I worked." He closed his eyes as he recalled how he'd told Adam to holler if the pain got bad, but the young man had uttered nothing but a low moan whenever he'd gone deep for a stitch. Looking at Ben again, he saw the impatience lodged on the man's face and realized he hadn't answered completely. "His head is fine. He must have passed out from pain and shock when it happened."
Ben's impatience flared as he reached behind Paul to grab the doorknob when the doctor remained standing in his way. "Excuse me. I'd like to see my son now."
Paul intercepted the man's hand, gently moving it away from the knob. "He's had medication for pain and needs to rest now, so why don't we go downstairs. I need a couple minutes with you before I go."
Ben reluctantly turned away from where he most wanted to be, and headed downstairs where Hoss and Joe were asleep in the chairs where they'd been holding vigil. They were grateful to hear that their brother was going to mend, and headed up to bed, leaving the two adults alone.
"So what do you need to talk to me about?" he asked matter-of-factly once his sons were out of earshot. "Is Adam's condition more serious than you made it out to be?"
"How have things been going out here since Adam got home from school?"
Ben squinted until his brows nearly joined. "Fine." But as he met Paul's eyes, he knew his lie wasn't fooling him for a minute. "Maybe not so fine. What makes you ask?"
"Oh, I see a look in Adam's eyes—and yours as well."
"What on earth does that mean?" Ben growled like a cornered animal.
"It means that I know what's been going on in this house."
"Has Adam complained to you?" The father's expression moved from shock to anger at the thought of his son discussing family problems outside their home.
"Of course not, Ben! But I do know that look in his eyes. It tells me he's so unhappy here that he'll be leaving. He may not even want to or know why it's come to this, but he knows that he has to go."
Ben reared back, feeling like he'd been slapped. He wanted to react: to lash out at this man who had no right to be insinuating himself into problems between him and his son. His voiced was barbed as he finally asked, "Just how do you know that's what you're seeing?
"I know because it's the same look I saw staring at me in the mirror 20 years ago."
"What are you talking about?"
Paul moved closer. "Let me tell you what's been going on. There have been an increasing number of heated conversations where Adam suggests things and you counter with phrases that tell him you're in charge. He tries to show you new things and you dismiss him, telling him he should respect your ways. And I'm guessing he spends a lot of time away from home." He let that sink in for a moment and then asked, "Ben, how many times have you brought up the money you spent on his education?"
The father paled, unable to answer.
Paul's tone softened as he continued. "There're a few things about me that you don't know. My father was a doctor with a nice practice out East. I thought he was the finest man in the world, and I did whatever I could to please him, including following in his footsteps to become a doctor. He promised that once I was ready, we'd have a practice together that would become the finest in the city because we'd have his expertise and the newest treatments I'd learn in medical school. I returned home eager to work with him as we'd envisioned. But instead of being happy to have me back, he seemed to resent any idea I proposed. He constantly accused me of questioning and undermining his authority, and it got so bad he alleged that I was trying to steal his patients by promising new cures he didn't know about. I got tired of the tension, and when nothing I could say would convince him that I had only our best interests at heart; I left and came out West to practice on my own. I know that my father cared about me but he was afraid that he would be seen as ineffective if he let me show what I could do."
"Could anything have kept you from leaving?"
"He could have told me what was bothering him, or even that he knew things had gone awry and that he would try harder." Paul sighed with the memory. But he couldn't. I guess it was easier to keep doing things his way and let me go than to find the right words to make me want to stay."
"I'm sorry, Paul," Ben offered sincerely. He grinned as he added, "I'm glad you ended up out here. And maybe your story sounds a little familiar." He looked directly at his friend. "Do you know that Adam wants to leave?"
"It's a prediction based on observation. You know Adam spends a lot of time in town."
"Yes, of course. He doesn't say where he goes. It's not as though he drinks, because I've been up when he comes home and there's no liquor on him."
Paul indicated that Ben should sit. "Adam spends his time sitting in the back of the saloon. Folks come in just to hear him talk about Boston and what he did and learned while he was away at school. Mac Davis heard him talking about a water system he designed for a class project, and finally asked if he'd engineer one for his spread. Adam drew one out that night and Mac's building it right now. Heck, Sam says he likes the nights Adam doesn't come to town because when he's there people are in the back with him and forget to drink. What I figure is that your son is busting with good ideas, and if he has to talk to strangers about them, then he has no one who wants to listen out here."
"That's not fair, Paul," Ben countered. "I don't have time to pay attention to everything he has to say. You know how busy this ranch keeps me."
"I surely do, but that's not why you aren't listening to Adam. The real reason is something you have to figure out for yourself." The doctor paused to let Ben think as he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "I shouldn't be showing this to you, but I think you need to know." Paul handed him the paper. "Adam asked me to take this to the telegraph office for him. I told him I won't be back to town until Tuesday. That gives you have a day to work this out or I'll do as he asked."
Ben's heart pounded against his ribs as he read. "Frankie, Please confirm job offer still current. Can arrive San Francisco early November. Adam Cartwright."
Paul gathered his coat over his arm and donned his hat. "I know you don't want this to happen, but you'll have to figure out what to do about it. Adam is the finest young man in this territory. You know that too, and I think it will break you if he leaves." Reclaiming the note, he added, "I'll be back to check on him tomorrow afternoon, and I'll know then what I need to do about the telegram."
Once Paul was gone, Ben hurried up to Adam's room, stopping in shock at finding him covered in bandages as his friend had promised. But Paul's other prediction was true as well; he was resting comfortably. Ben leaned to stroke the boy's forehead, finally resting his hand on his cheek. There was no movement, making him wonder if Paul had been correct in his appraisal that all would be fine. Deciding he'd stay in Adam's room for the night, he looked around for Elizabeth's Bible, finally lifting the top of Adam's desk. His eyes were drawn to a sheet of paper with the heading, Dear Pa, resting under the book of scriptures he was looking for. He didn't want to snoop, but he was unable to close the desk and walk away, finally deciding that he needed to know what the letter said. He pulled it out, held it near the lamp and began to read.
Dear Pa,
It seems ridiculous to hand you a letter stating my intentions rather than talking to you directly, but our conversations have not gone well of late. When you finish reading this, you may say whatever you wish and I'll listen without interruption.
You must agree that things are not right between us. I was nervous about coming home, knowing that life did not stand still in my absence. I suspected that Hoss and Little Joe might have some problems with me taking my position as oldest brother again. I also knew that it would take some time to fit back into the pace of life out here. But what I never considered was that you would be the one most changed in my absence.
I'm not sure the reason, but it's become clear that you least welcome my return. I sense that you see my education as unwarranted, and that I'm a great disappointment. You've implied that I came home expecting to take charge, but please believe that I had no such assumptions, and figured we'd work together to find where I'd best fit in again. My intention was always to merit any responsibility you'd give me.
Frankie Wadsworth, my college roommate and friend has opened a division of his family's engineering firm in San Francisco, and is asking that I join him in the firm. In light of what is happening here, I've decided to leave as soon as the summer chores are finished, or sooner if you'd prefer.
I place no blame for what's happened; time and distance alter dreams and feelings. I suppose I could stay, try to recreate things as they were before I left, and pretend that I'd be happy that way. But I'd come to resent it. I didn't come home to take over, but the truth is that I am older, well educated, and in need of challenge and growth. It is for these reasons alone that I leave. You don't want me here as I am, and I can't stay if it means that I can't be who I've become. I hope that someday you'll forgive me this decision, and for the disappointment I've caused you. I can't ever repay all you've done for me. All I can do is try to become the man you are.
Grasping the unsigned letter, Ben sat on the edge of Adam's bed whispering in agony only a father can feel, "How did I let this happen?"
Adam's eyes opened slightly as he asked worriedly, "Pa, Is something wrong?"
Ben remained silent; head bowed while his jaw clenched tightly as he crushed the letter.
"Pa?"
Ben composed himself and turned toward Adam showing him the crumpled wad of paper. "How can you think I want you to leave?"
Feeling mildly sick from the sedative and suddenly very anxious at the situation, Adam pushed stiffly to a sitting position. "I don't want to leave, but you're so unhappy with me that I thought it best. I'm sorry you found that letter before I could give it to you, but you have to know that I wouldn't have left before doing so, and then listening what you had to say. I'd never act that cowardly."
"I'm not upset about the letter; I'm upset because you felt the need to write it. I've looked forward to you coming home since the day you left, and then when you did, I just worried."
"Worried?" The expression was puzzled.
"Yes, worried. I thought that after being with professors and scholars you would dismiss me as unimportant. I was afraid you'd realize that I'm not as smart as you thought I was when you were younger, and you'd see me as a fool you humored with your presence from time to time. Because of my fears, I used everything you said as proof that those assumptions were correct. I knew I was wrong every single time I was short with you or criticized your thoughts, yet I felt powerless to be any different." He raised his eyes to meet his son's and smiled sadly, "But part of me thought that I was hiding it so well that you didn't notice."
Adam choked on a painful laugh. "Pa, you're the smartest man I've ever known. Those professors you refer to know a lot, but all they do is talk. They all stay put in their classrooms telling people how to do things, but they never do them. You've done things they'd never think of trying, and took me along with you! I had teachers who couldn't believe the life I've had or that I was related to you. I'm not sure how information gets to where it does, but many people back East had heard of you and the Ponderosa. Being your son took a lot of living up to."
The young man groaned audibly as he moved and then chuckled softly. "Who'd have thought that a simple day of swimming and rolling down a hill would end up hurting so much?" He eased his back farther up the headboard in an attempt to get more comfortable. "Getting back to what we were talking about, and in the spirit of confession, I think that when I got home I wanted to prove that I'd learned as much as possible so that you'd be proud of me…and I got pushy about my ideas."
Ben gently grasped his son's shoulders. "This is entirely my fault, and I don't say this enough: I have never known a day when I wasn't proud of you. You've always amazed me and continue to do so. The way I've behaved isn't who I want to be, but I'm not used to my children getting smarter while I don't." Ben chuckled wryly, "And it seems to be happening more every day."
Chapter 7 – When the Best Moments Go Bad
Adam was still considering his father's comment when he sat forward mumbling, "Pa, I don't feel…." His body went limp, sagging into Ben's arms.
"Adam?"
When he didn't respond Ben laid him back onto his pillow, staring at the inexplicably pale young man who was suddenly sweating and breathing rapidly, as his eyes rolled back into blankness. "Adam? Adam!" Ben shouted as he gently shook his shoulders. "What's happening?" Ben raged at no one in particular as he now focused on the fresh blood seeping through the bandages where he'd just had his hands. Folding the covers back, he stared at the rapidly pinking bindings that had been white only minutes before. Hearing Hop Sing downstairs, he shouted for him.
Hop Sing appeared in the doorway out of breath from running up the stairs. "Why you shout?" But as he spoke, he saw the panic in Ben's eyes and the lifeless body of the Cartwright son. "I go bring doctor back. You no worry; son be fine. You see.
Ben accompanied Hop Sing to the kitchen where he began to gather warm water and more bandages to reinforce the ones that were becoming soaked with fresh blood. "Hurry Hop Sing. Something is going terribly wrong…"
"I ride fast while pray. Be home in no time." Hop Sing was out the door as his words hovered in hope.
By the time Ben had collected the needed supplies and was returning to Adam, Hoss and Little Joe were coming down the steps, both looking upset and angry. "What's going on?" screamed Joe as he waved the crumpled letter that Ben had dropped by Adam's bed. "Why are you making Adam leave? How can you do this when he just got back? And what's wrong with him, Pa? He's bleeding everywhere! Is he dying?"
Ben laid the supplies on the table in front of the fireplace and held his youngest boy. "Joseph, calm down. Adam has taken a turn, and I'm not sure why. Don't' worry about him leaving. He's confused right now but we'll work it all out when he's better."
Little Joe slumped in Ben's arms as he sobbed, "Please don't let him go away again!"
Hoss was still standing on the steps looking pale and frightened. Ben ordered, "Come here Hoss," and he walked over to sit with his brother while his father paced in front of them.
"Boys, I will do whatever I can to help Adam through this, but I can't tend to him and you two at the same time. So I need you to help me out. Can you do that?"
Both heads nodded.
"Good. Hoss, I'll need you to hold the lamp over the bed so I can see what I'm doing, and Joseph, you will do any running that I need. Got it?"
"Yes, Pa," promised Hoss while Joe indicated his agreement by nodding again.
The two pitched in as they had promised. Hoss held the lamp and helped turn Adam to reinforce bandages. He applied pressure where the bleeding was the worst, while Joe ran up and down the stairs fetching more bandages and fresh water. Minutes passed like hours as they worked together until they finally heard the sound of the front door latch followed by footsteps on the stairs.
Paul Martin stopped in the doorway, surveying the scene before him. Shocked at the upheaval in the room; the blood that was everywhere, and the very pale patient, he muttered, "What in heaven's name happened?"
"Well doctor, we were hoping you could tell us," Ben's fear and fatigue were evidenced by his sarcastic tone.
"Start from the beginning; tell me what happened."
Ben sighed, "There's not much to tell. Adam woke briefly, we talked and suddenly…this." He indicated the mayhem around him.
Paul began his examination while Ben was speaking, and soon gave his opinion. "I think he's gone into a septic shock."
"What does that mean?"
"His body is confused; it's going to war against itself."
Ben stared dumbfounded, "A few hours ago you said everything would be fine. What went wrong?"
Paul tried to explain, "He did seem fine, but it could be that he's reacting to a poison in the cactus spines, or some toxin could have worked into the cuts: maybe something in the dirt. Or it could even be a bite that he got during the day, and that's not even considering his sunburn."
"I don't understand all these possibilities. Tell me what's happening in simple terms"
"There's no science yet that adequately explains what's happening, but something went askew even as he appeared to be doing fine. Adam was exposed to something or it might be a combination of the fall, the cactus needles and the sunburn that put his body into a defensive posture. Sometimes a person's system just goes off-kilter. Right now it's overreacting to what he's gone through. He was seriously hurt, but not enough to account for what's happening. His blood isn't clotting, and that can't go on without doing some damage. You must have felt his heart racing, and we can see him struggling to breathe. I don't know how much you want to hear right now, but here's the truth: the longer this goes on, the more likely that his body will shut down, organ by organ, until finally his brain and heart stop."
"Paul," Ben's voice trembled. "Paul, how long? How long before we know whether this is going to pass or we start to see signs that it …won't?"
"I don't know. But…"
"But what?" No one breathed as they waited for an answer.
"But there's nothing we can really do."
Ben snapped into action. "I can't accept that. We have to do something!"
"Well, we keep doing what you started: stop the bleeding, give him fluids if we can, keep him warm and comfortable, and pray."
"Let's get going," Ben ordered the younger brothers to bed, knowing they wouldn't sleep, but now needing them out from underfoot. Hop sing joined Paul and Ben as they removed the soaked bandages and started over. Once that was done, they bundled him in blankets until he seemed as comfortable as possible. Ben sat beside him to wipe the perspiration from his face, and then found his son's hand under the covers and held on.
When Paul and the cook left the room for a break, Ben knelt on the floor where he could be at ear level to speak what had remained unsaid earlier. "Adam, please stay. I'll listen more and holler less. I won't dismiss your ideas without explaining my rationale and giving you a chance for rebuttal. And when your thoughts do make sense, we'll give them a try. Your idea about moving the men around to get more timber down last week was brilliant. I was just embarrassed that I hadn't thought of it myself, and feared you'd think I was getting old and addled. Forgive me for not trusting you. I think if there was a wrong thing to say at any point since you've been back, I've said it."
Ben brought Adam's hand to his cheek and remained at his side, listening to the rasp of his breath.
Hoss had taken Little Joe to his room but since neither of them could sleep, they laid on his bed talking. "Hoss? Is Adam gonna die?" questioned the nervous voice next to him in the dark.
"Nah, Little Joe. He's gonna be just fine. You'll see," Hoss reassured his little brother with more bravado than he felt.
"Then if he's okay, do you think he's gonna leave again?"
The burly 17-year-old reached in the dark and gave his 11-year-old brother a punch in the shoulder. "Well, Joe, we just won't let that happen, will we?"
Chapter 8 – A New Day
Ben longed for dawn. Things always seemed better in the morning, and he expected that Adam would awaken from his stupor as the sun lit his room. Yet the sun rose and coursed across the sky while Paul Martin and Ben kept vigil in a room that remained silent except for the labored breathing of the young man in the bed.
The rest of the Ponderosa remained quiet as well. Little Joe and Hoss did chores to keep their minds off the situation in the house, while Hop Sing cooked meals that no one really wanted to eat.
Day passed into night again with the only change being that Adam "seemed" to rest easier and the bleeding had stopped. As the two weary men took a break, Ben felt confident enough to ask, "Paul, is he going to make it?"
The doctor shrugged. "We don't know what damage was done: whether there was internal bleeding too or if his organs were damaged by the toxins that caused the other symptoms we could see."
"I expect you to tell me the truth, but you might have made it sound a little more optimistic." Ben broke into a sad grin. "Whatever happens, thank you for your help. I would've had a hard time getting through this without you." After a few moments, he added, "I've appreciated your help with…everything. Before things went bad, Adam and I had time to speak, and…"
"And?" Paul pushed impatiently.
"I'm not sure whether he'll leave or stay, but we were able to talk about it."
That's good, Ben."
Hop Sing brought a tray of food, ordering, "You men eat. Does no good if father and doctor get sick. Then you rest. I sit with son." With his order issued, he climbed the steps, giving a quick look back from the top to make sure his charges below were being obedient. To his relief they were both already sipping coffee and chewing on sandwiches.
Seeing the pale, lifeless face of the child he'd helped to raise, Hop Sing's heart fell. He sat and leaned in to speak softly. "You get well. Father and brothers need you," and after a pause, added, "I miss you when gone. House and family not same without you. You get better, fix things with father. Be happy again." The man's title was cook, but he knew he was much more to this family. He recalled his time watching over the growing boys, fixing their scrapes, and protecting them from their father's anger at times. He had a special relationship with each son. Hoss snuck food and loved to watch him cook, and was always excited to taste each new dish. Little Joe was full of life and plans, but impulsive—the one with the most injuries to body and heart. But Adam was the one who talked to him: not about meals, or fights and bruises, but about life. He often used Hop Sing as a sounding board and was probably the first to hear that Adam wanted to leave the ranch to attend school in the East. He had known there'd be fireworks but had encouraged the young man to trust his father. He'd felt the same emptiness at Adam's leaving, and the same joy at his returning as the family had, and shared equal pride in the man that this boy had become.
Hop Sing felt the pain in the house now from both father and son, and didn't know how to help, choosing instead to remain loyal to both men, letting them work it out. Of course he'd sent the occasional sharp look to Ben when he'd heard him lecturing his son with that "special tone."
Deep in thought, Hop Sing didn't notice the flutter of eyelids or the glassy eyes that sought the familiar, but he did hear the soft moan.
"Adam, you awake. You need water, anything?" A weak nod had Hop Sing with a glass to his lips in a flash. "I get father."
"No, stay…please. I need to talk to you."
"You no talk. You rest."
"Hop Sing," Adam's voice was a hoarse whisper. "What it was like here while I was gone."
"Why you ask that?"
"I think Pa forgot about me."
The cook laughed but quickly quieted so others wouldn't hear. "Forgot you? Number one son never forgotten. When you leave, father have brave face that left when wagon was out of sight. Father very sad for long time after. Lose wife, lose son. Have deep sorrow."
"I knew he would be sad, but I had to go."
"Was okay. No blame son. He want best for you. Each letter make him happy for a time, then sad again. Father not nice when sad," he chuckled quietly, "but always very good man. Always remember son very much."
"Was he sad the whole time?"
"Some sad all the time. But better. Got busy with ranch. Make big change to impress son. Worry later that son not want to come home. Then worry very much son would not stay. Worry, worry, worry, but happy son coming back."
Adam tried to sit but could barely lift his head and lay back down. "I've been a fool. Never really told Pa how good the ranch looks, never mentioned the improvements and all the new things he's gotten. The new house is just as I'd drawn it out for him so I didn't even have to wonder where anything was. Yet all I did was tell him what more he should do. I just wanted him to listen to me; but I didn't listen to him either."
"I get father now. You rest."
Adam was sleeping by the time Paul and Ben got upstairs. A check of his pulse revealed a normal, steady rhythm. The clean bandages they'd applied during the day were still unstained and his breathing was slow and even. "I think he's fine now Ben," Paul breathed out. "But I'm not saying more until I see him up and dressed…just to be sure."
"Pa?"
"I'm here son. How do you feel?"
"Like I was trampled in a stampede of angry bulls. I can't remember much about it, so is that what actually happened?"
"Yep," replied the doctor. "I'm just checking all the hoof prints now and then I'll get out of here."
After Paul left the room, Adam began, "I'm sorry Pa. I was angry that you didn't seem to pay attention to me, but I wasn't paying attention to you either. I should have told you how great the house and ranch look, and that I noticed all then other improvements: but I didn't, or at least not enough."
"Water under the bridge, son; no apologies needed." After checking Adam's forehead for fever and finding it cool, Ben continued, "I know you just woke up, but do you still plan to leave?"
"Pa, I heard what you said when I was sleeping, or whatever that was I was doing: about hollering less and listening more. Do you think you can really do that?"
"I've always been good for a promise."
"Do you think you can honestly trust me to make decisions around here if I prove myself?"
"I can do that. But I need to ask you something too. This ranch, all that we've worked for, is all for you and your brothers someday. But I'm not ready to give it up just yet, so can you accept that I won't like every suggestion you make and that I'll still be making the final decisions?"
Ben panicked as Adam groaned, laid his arm across his forehead and rolled his eyes back. "Paul! Get back in here!"
Paul rolled around the doorframe from the hall where he had been eavesdropping on the conversation, and said with mock disdain. "Adam, that was the worst acting ever. I thought Ben said you did some Shakespeare in college. What did you play in that production, the part of the skull?"
Ben's gaze snapped from Paul to Adam, and saw his son grinning. "What was that all about?"
"I didn't want to answer your question and figured you'd go easier on me if you thought I was dying again."
Paul laughed as he began to gather his things. "I should be heading back to town now that the first born has made it back to the land of the living." As he slipped his arm into his coat sleeve, he remembered that Adam's note was still resting in the pocket. Removing it, he asked his patient, "Do you want me to send this?"
"I'm assuming you showed it to Pa?"
The doctor confessed, "I thought it was important."
Adam's strength was waning but understood that he had to make his decision before he could rest again. Looking toward his father, he asked, "Any further thoughts?"
"The decision is yours, and I'll support you no matter what it is. Just know that I hope you'll want to stay on here, at least for a few more years."
"You can send it, Paul…" Adam noticed the color drain from his father's face as he continued, "in a few years when Pa and I have finished everything we need to do."
Paul laughed. "I'm glad you finished that or I'd be treating your father for a heart attack. Now that this is settled, I want you to rest so I don't have to come out here again for a few days." He gave a final salute to father and son, turning back once more at the door to say, "Welcome home Adam."
The End