Adam's Albatross
Adam McFadden stood behind the rail of the porch and squinted to see past the barn and across the field. He tilted his head at an angle and sighed with relief. The bevy of birds he had spotted flying so low weren't vultures after all. He couldn't determine what exact species they were, but they absolutely were not buzzards.
His initial fear had been that a dead ranch animal had summoned predators. What a relief to be mistaken! The last thing he needed was ranch animals dying.
Adam set his cup of still steaming coffee down on the rail and stretched for several moments. Somehow he had slept wrong and had the beginnings of a crick in his neck as proof.
It was January ninth and a brand new year had just begun.
The January day was cold enough that he could see his breath as he exhaled but the weather didn't concern him. January was his favorite month because it was the month of his birth. In fact, in two short weeks he would celebrate his nineteenth birthday.
He ruefully spoke out loud to himself. "Yo, Adam McFadden! Man, you already act like a grandpa or something."
In the distance a yellow shape inched closer and closer and Adam whistled loudly. Hurried running sounded within the house before Brian flung open the door and jogged down the steps.
"Have a good day!" Adam called, and Brian turned back to grin and respond with a thumbs up before the school bus lurched to a stop at the gate.
The oldest watched as Brian-the second oldest- swaggered up the steps and onto the bus. Trust Brian to make an entrance, even on the high school bus!
Adam had time to gulp a scalding swallow of coffee before the next bus appeared on the horizon. He glanced at his watch. The elementary bus was several minutes early.
Adam hurried into the house and clapped. A skidding from the upstairs assured him the Itty Bitties were nearly ready.
On the other hand, Crane stood by the kitchen table staring into the distance. His bookbag gaped open on the table top.
Adam shook his head irritably. The eleven year old had immersed himself in daydream land-again.
"Crane!"
The startled youngster turned to regard his big brother.
"Bus is almost here. Where is your coat, and why is your bookbag not packed and ready?"
"I was waiting for you." Crane snatched the open bag and crossed the room to where Adam stood. "Uhm, Adam, I need you to please sign this." He shoved a crumpled piece of paper into Adam's hand, grabbed his jacket and slid it onto his slender frame.
Adam's eyebrows rose with suspicion as he fingered the paper. "What is this?"
Crane had the grace to look ashamed.
"Answer me," Adam snapped. "Now! I don't have time for games this morning."
"My math quiz."
Adam unfolded the test and his eyes immediately focused on the failing grade clearly featured in the upper right hand corner. Underneath was a written notation from the math teacher that this was Crane's second F in a week.
For a moment Adam didn't know what to do or the wisest way to respond. This was Crane, after all. Adam glanced from the paper to his brother's guilty expression. Crane usually brought home solid A's or high B's. He was the family's scholar, the one rounded enough to excel in every single academic subject.
Rarely did the child deserve a correction, much less one about schoolwork.
Was this a typical pre-adolescent entire personality makeover change or something?
"When was this test?"
"Tuesday," Crane admitted softly.
Adam's mind flew backwards two days and comprehension dawned. "So Monday night when you assured me you had no homework and no studying you weren't truthful with me. Is that correct?"
Crane nodded miserably.
"Look at me," Adam directed, and guilty blue eyes met Adam's dark brown ones. "Do you not understand the material the teacher's covering? Are you having a problem with comprehension? I want the truth from you."
"No, I understand it fine."
Adam pointed towards the telephone stand. "Bring me that black pen."
Crane hurried to obey and Adam spread the test paper on top of the coffee table to sign. The middle schooler watched anxiously as Adam continued to write after he had added his signature.
Finally Adam finished, folded the quiz, and handed it back. Crane looked at him questioningly.
"I have requested a progress update from all of your teachers today, both academically and behavior wise. I expect you to place that report in my hands when you get off that bus this afternoon. Am I clear?"
Crane bit the inside of his cheek and Adam saw worry flash across his face. His little brother most definitely had not expected to carry out that mission.
"Clear."
"Ok," Adam leaned down to kiss the top of his brother's head. "Run! I hear the bus."
As if on cue Ford, Evan, and Daniel noisily descended the stairs and Adam grinned broadly when he saw them. "Let me see our Itty Bitty McFadden gentlemen now. Uhmm, hair looks coiffed and combed and teeth…" he broke off as three little mouths opened on cue to demonstrate their clean smiles. "Great, oh yes! That school should pay me for having such handsome boys to send them to teach."
Adam devoted the next few minutes to Daniel and Evan's departure. Adam dispensed kisses and snapped hoods and zippered jackets before waving goodbye from the porch. He waited to go back inside until he watched their little legs pump to climb the elementary bus steps.
He smiled. Those two were his little extroverts, and he could see them greeting the other bus passengers after they boarded.
Ford sat quietly on the sofa, swinging his legs as he waited and softly singing about the months of the year. Adam tapped the kindergartner on the nose as he passed him to swing Guthrie from the playpen in the center of the room. The baby chortled with delight when Adam appeared and Adam couldn't resist tickling the little belly and making him giggle.
It was Adam's week spearheading the kindergarten carpool, though, so he bundled the baby and supervised Ford as the five year old pulled on his jacket and hood before buckling them inside their vehicle.
Uri, the ranch's new hand, waved from the side of the barn and Adam rolled down the window and shouted that he'd join him within the hour.
As Adam drove he reflected upon how invaluable Uri had become to him in a short amount of time. A little over a month before the sheriff had approached Adam with a proposition that he consider asking Uri to work on the ranch. The next day Adam followed the lead and met with the older man for nearly an hour before offering him a place to stay in exchange for ranch work.
Though all of the boys helped out after school and contributed during weekends and holidays Adam's role was the primary one in the ranch's upkeep. Quiet and unassuming, Uri worked diligently and slowly removed some of the ranch responsibilities from Adam's young shoulders. Thanks to Uri, Adam could relinquish some of the ranch's duties and turn more of his attention to matters on the home front.
The first weeks after the deaths of both of his parents had left Adam floundering in his new role as an amalgamation big brother/ guardian/ default parent to his six brothers. Even though he had always carried power within the family dynamic as the eldest, he had done so under the direct supervision of his mama and daddy and with their support. Without their guidance in those first months, however, he had often felt reluctant to do more than follow the established routines at home.
Two days after the death of his folks Adam applied for guardianship at the urging of the sheriff, who had expressed his concern that without legal backing, Adam could not make medical or financial decisions concerning the boys.
The sheriff spoke candidly for nearly an hour and Adam listened attentively, uncomfortably aware that his personal decisions would impact seven futures.
In addition the officer apprised the young man of options available to him should he decide to split the family.
Adam interrupted. He assured the sheriff that temporary homes, foster care, or any living arrangements which did not include all seven remaining together were not options.
Nevertheless, after the officer departed Adam privately agonized over his passionate argument to the man about keeping them together. How could he possibly manage such a feat? Who was he kidding?
At his most optimistic in those initial weeks he imagined them all as the Seven McFadden Musketeers experiencing ideal childhoods and proceeding to graduations from top colleges and glowing futures.
Conversely, in his darkest and most private thoughts he railed at the injustice that now permeated his life and saturated his future.
Adam reminded himself he could walk away from every single one of them without a backwards glance.
After all, his college dreams might have been put on hold but most certainly they were not entirely forgotten.
The other kids weren't even his own children.
They were siblings.
There was a difference.
Some nights he lay awake into the early morning hours. At those times he could not conquer the slew of worries racing through his mind. Often Adam would think of the albatross featured in his favorite poem, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Throughout the verses the symbolic albatross hung around the mariner's neck as both a burden and a reminder of the seaman's sins and faults.
Though Adam would never, ever, voice those thoughts aloud, often in his very soul he viewed his six responsibilities as his albatross.
Then guilt would slam into him and deep shame would envelop him for even contemplating such a comparison.
What kind of horrible brother was he?
What kind of deviant son had he become?
What kind of unethical man would he be at the end of his life?
Adam's inner turmoil withstood several months and manifested itself through whole days of a shorter than normal temper and deliberate emotional withdrawal.
His siblings felt the fallout then. How could they not?
But later on that January ninth afternoon after he and Uri worked side by side herding cattle into the far pasture their conversation turned to the family on their trudge back to the barn.
Ahead of them, Ford clasped Guthrie's hand and the two little boys raced ahead, swinging arms as they did so.
As Uri stripped off his heavy work gloves he unexpectedly laid a hand on Adam's shoulder. The older man tilted his head. "When you gonna make that decision, Adam? When you gonna make up your mind?"
The question caught him off guard. "Decision for what?" Adam prodded.
Uri gently squeezed his shoulder. "The decision over whether to stay or go, of course."
For a split second Adam felt a rush of cold fear that his inner thoughts were apparently public knowledge.
His eyes widened.
Adam shivered.
Was this what was meant about blood running cold?
Deciding to jump on the offensive he opened his mouth to insist there had been no such struggle nor would there ever be. Something interrupted, though. His honesty made him pause to reflect.
Adam kicked softly at the straw on the barn floor and an epiphany slammed him.
No! He had never meant to deny his family!
He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to go, and he didn't want to lose his brothers, but his behavior over the past couple of months had indicated the opposite to everyone else.
Obviously, his actions had spoken louder than his words.
The time had arrived for him to man up, declare his decision, and then honor it by committing to rearing his brothers both physically and emotionally.
He could no longer treat the six of them as his personal albatross.
Adam's entire demeanor transformed and Uri grinned at the change. "You don't need to answer that now. Go on back down to the house. You look like a man with family ties on his mind."
Adam would reach back into his memory and remind himself of that conversation at both mundane and monumental moments throughout the rest of his life. He never second guessed his own commitment again, and his renewed dedication began to reap immediate rewards as the family's bond strengthened.
That afternoon Adam swung Daniel onto his shoulders and trotted him home from the bus, the child's laughter causing him to laugh just as loudly before settling the boys in the kitchen with snacks.
He would offer them opportunities for happiness.
Adam worked patiently and methodically while teaching Evan fractions as they fed the stock together after supper.
He would guide and lead them.
Adam refused to ignore Crane's irresponsibility (or tearful pleas) and restricted the child for three solid weeks, the length of time it took his little brother to substantially improve his grades. Further, once he discovered Crane had spent the past week happily entertaining his friends during classes, Adam requested a weekly progress report from the school.
He promised Crane a spanking if the teachers reported any continuation of bad behavior.
Adam would provide a moral compass.
At supper Adam told Brian how proud his younger brother made him, and he spent longer than usual cuddling Guthrie before bedtime.
He would love them.
And when he said his prayers that night he made them prayers of gratitude for the life he was handed and the life he was living.