Ben sat down in his chair, Young and Libba at his feet; Hoss, and Little Joe sat on the sofa with Sam sandwiched in between them; Adam sat in another chair. Ben began the story, looking into his grandchildren's eyes. "One day, when your Papa was maybe seven years old, he decided to climb a very big tree. Getting to the branches he knew would support him was the easy part. Getting back down was the hard part. I knew your Papa was outside playing, so I didn't worry about him until it began to get close to supper time. I went outside and called for him to come in. He told me that he couldn't. At first, I wasn't sure where his voice was coming from, but when he told me that he had a "problem," I looked up to where I heard his voice. There he was, sitting on a big tree branch. I told him again to get down out of that tree. He told me that he couldn't get down. And it was too far to the ground to jump from the tree limb. I knew from the sound of his voice that he was afraid. I was afraid too."
"You were afraid, Pop-Pop?" Young's eyes got big. He couldn't imagine his grandfather, with the booming voice, being afraid of anything. Nor could he imagine his Papa, with his strong arms, being scared to climb down.
"Of course I was! But I couldn't let your Papa know that. So he and I discussed the problem. I told him that he could climb back down and that I would tell him where to put his feet and hands. I told him that we would work as a team. Your Papa was very smart, even then, and he liked the idea."
"So what did you and Papa do?" Young was impatient.
"Well, your Papa figured out where some good places were to hang onto with his hands. I figured out some good places for him to put his feet. It took a while, but your Papa came down all by himself. I was very proud of him."
"But you and Papa were scared!" Young said, sounding a little disappointed in the two men he worshipped the most.
"Young," Ben began, "there are times in everybody's lives when they are scared. Children and grown-ups. Men and women. It's how each person deals with that fear that's important. The idea is to not panic. Take time to think about the situation first. Using your brain is very important. Your Papa and I used our brains, and we used them together. And things worked out fine."
"Why didn't Uncle Hoss push the tree down?" Libba asked, using the first long sentence that Sam and Adam had heard recently.
"Uncle Hoss was just a baby," Ben replied. "He was in the house with Mrs. Oliver."
"Who was Mrs. Oliver?" Young asked, looking confused. He had just assumed that his Papa's mother was mother to Uncle Hoss and Uncle Joe.
Ben looked at Adam and then at Sam. Sam nodded. Ben took that nod to mean it was all right to talk about his three wives. "Little Joe, will you please bring me the pictures from my desk?" Ben asked, hoping he could handle this situation well. When Ben had the pictures in his hand, he showed the first picture. It was of Adam's mother.
"See, this is your Papa's mother," Ben said. He looked at Sam and saw her pinch her fingers together. His interpretation was that he should tell as little as possible. So he did just that.
"She got very sick and went to Heaven to be with God. Libba, you were named 'Elizabeth' in memory of your grandmother. Young began calling you 'Libba' and we like that name too."
Ben showed the next picture. "Several years after your Papa's mother died, I married Inger, Uncle Hoss's mother. She went to Heaven too. And then I married Uncle Joe's mother, Marie. She went to Heaven to be with Elizabeth and Inger."
"Are they friends in Heaven?" Libba asked.
"Why, of course they are!" Ben said as he smiled. "And they look down on our family and are happy because we all love each other so much. They are with us always, even though we can't see them."
"Are Mama and Papa going to leave us and go to Heaven too?" Young was concerned.
"Not for a very, very long time," Ben answered. "Look how old I am, and I'm still here."
Libba never missed a thing. She saw that Pop-Pop's eyes were filling with water. She crawled into his lap and put her tiny hand on his chest. "Your heart hurts," she said simply.
"Yes, sometimes it does," Ben answered truthfully.
"Is it okay if men cry?" Young was curious.
Adam answered this question. "Men have feelings too. Women cry more than men do because they've been taught that it's okay. Men are told to never show tears and that's wrong thinking. Men are supposed to be tough and brave. But they can cry, too. They just are careful who sees them do it. It's not a sign of weakness. As a matter of fact, when you and Libba were born, I cried. I cried because I was so happy!"
Young looked at his father and made a face. "You cried because Libba didn't have any hair on her head!"
This was the perfect tension breaker. Adam jumped up and hoisted Young in the air by his heels. Young squealed with laughter – such a happy sound that it was contagious.
Ben looked at Sam, saw her smile and nod – apparently he had handled the situation well.
Hop Sing entered the room. So much time had passed, he had cooked another meal. The subject of death and tears wasn't brought up again.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
During the unplanned evening meal, Young asked what his Papa had been like growing up. This was a question that even Sam was interested in hearing about. Ben smiled. "Your Papa was a very intelligent boy. He loved to read – all different kinds of books. Books about different places in the world. Books about different kinds of people and about their lives. Poetry books. Books about building all different kinds of things. Books about all kinds of animals. He wanted to know how to take things apart and then how to put them back together. I had a clock in my bedroom, and he used to take all of its parts out and then put it back together. I didn't even know he was doing it until one day I noticed it was working just fine except for the fact that it was running backwards. He took it apart again and made it work right. He loved school. He studied hard and got good grades. He had very good manners and was always respectful. He had lots of friends. He loved to go fishing. He especially loved riding. When he was sixteen or so, he knew more about horses than a lot of grown men knew. He loved funny jokes and he loved to laugh. He loved to play games – especially cribbage and chess."
Libba stopped chasing the peas on her plate. "Papa's strong."
"Yes, he is," Ben replied. "He's strong on the outside because he's done a lot of chores in his lifetime – chopping wood and mending fences and chopping down trees that go to the lumber mill. That kind of work builds lots of muscles. And he's strong on the inside too. He has a good sense of right and wrong. Like everybody, he's made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he learned from them. He stands up for what he believes in. He doesn't lie about anything. People respect your Papa. That's the thing that's most important – respect that one has earned from other people."
"Was he ever bad?" Sam asked, wrinkling her nose.
Ben chuckled. "He may have done some bad things but he wasn't bad himself."
Sam pushed the subject. "What bad things did he do?" She had a method to her madness. She didn't want Young and Libba to think that their father was perfect.
"I can answer that question," Adam interjected. "I took some candy from the store, a whole lot of candy. I ate most of it in a hurry. Pop-Pop found the candy that was left under my pillow and asked me where it had come from. Well, I didn't want Pop-Pop to know I was a thief, so I lied and said I didn't know where it had come from. And you know what happened? I got my fanny spanked really hard. Pop-Pop told me that stealing was wrong but lying about it was even worse."
Libba and Young looked at their father, goggle-eyed. They had never been spanked – they had never needed a spanking. The thing they hated the worst was the dreaded "talking to" that they got if they did something wrong.
"Pop-Pop told me that I could always tell him the truth. He might get upset about something I'd done, but I could always expect for him to be angry if I told a lie. And the next day, I had to go to the store – all by myself – and tell the storekeeper that I had stolen a bunch of candy and that I would do whatever work it took to pay for what I'd done. I ended up having to sweep the store and put cans on shelves and dust the display cases for a whole day!"
Young and Libba were impressed. So was Sam. How interesting it was to hear Ben and Adam talk so openly and honestly. And it was good for both Young and Libba to see that there are consequences to doing something wrong.
Soon it was time to take the little ones home. Young fought to stay awake and give hugs to everybody, but Libba finally drifted off to sleep in Ben's lap. Gently, he handed his granddaughter to Sam as she sat in the buggy. Sam blew Ben a kiss; Adam pulled away slowly.
"It's been a rather interesting day," Adam said with a wry grin.
"Indeed it has," Sam giggled. "The kids will now take separate baths. And we'll have to watch our own language."
"Exactly what did Young say in Chinese?" Adam asked.
Sam told him.
"Oh, my God!" was all Adam could say. "I didn't know that word until I was in college!"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Adam was standing in the bedroom in front of the mirror, pants slung low on his hips, and was busy shaving. Young watched in fascination as his father made the razor glide over his face.
"Does that hurt?" Young was curious.
"It stings a little but it has to be done." Adam smiled at his son.
"What happens if you don't shave every day?" Young was mesmerized.
"Well, I would grow a beard. Some men have beards and some don't."
"Can I shave now?" Young was anxious to do what his father did.
Adam laughed. "Not right now. When you get older, you'll have hair on your face. You can choose to shave it off, or you can grow a mustache, or you can grow a mustache and a beard." Adam finished shaving, closed the razor, and splashed water on his face to rinse off the shaving soap. Water dripped down onto his chest.
Libba came prancing in the room with nothing on but her boots. She carried a doll which was completely naked.
Adam looked at her and shook his head. "Why can't you wear clothes like other little girls? And your doll needs clothes too."
"Don't like cloves," Libba said as she sat down next to her brother. "No cloves for Mandy (the doll), either." She poked out her bottom lip.
"Libba, you are a young lady. All young ladies wear clothes. And Mandy has so many pretty little dresses to wear. Maybe Mama will make you dresses that match."
Sam rushed in, her hands full of clothing for both Libba and the doll. "Honestly, Adam, your daughter runs like a deer. I can't keep up with her!" Sam rolled her eyes.
"Uh-huh," Adam grinned. "Libba is only my daughter now?"
Adam took Mandy's clothes from Sam. "I'll dress Mandy. You can dress Libba."
With that, Libba dashed out of the room, clomping in her boots as she ran. Sam ran after her.
Young looked at his father. "You have lots of hair on your chest."
"Yep," Adam replied, dressing Mandy (which was a much easier job than dressing Libba).
"Will I have hair on my chest too?" Young was full of questions today.
"Maybe. Probably. When you get older."
"Uncle Joe doesn't have any hair on his chest," Young pointed out.
"No, he doesn't. Some men have it and some men don't."
Young thought. "Uncle Hoss has hair on his back too! And Pop-Pop's hair is white. What color will mine be and how much will I have?"
Young looked so serious; Adam made sure he didn't laugh when he answered. "A man never knows what he will or will not have until the time comes. It's a guessing game. I wish I had a better answer, but that's the best answer I have to give you."
"Okay," Young said, satisfied.
At this point, Libba launched herself through the door and landed in her parents' big bed. She was followed closely by Sam, a thoroughly frustrated look on her face. She was tired of chasing Libba around and not being able to catch her.
"Adam, do something!"
Libba saw her father approaching the bed and immediately pulled the covers over her head. Adam pulled them down and gently dragged his daughter from her hiding place. "Libba, we have to talk," Adam said sternly.
Out went Libba's lip. She hated these "talks." "Can I get spanked instead?" she asked.
"No. There will be no spanking. But this running around without any clothes on is not appropriate. There are things that people have to do, and one of them is to wear clothes. I don't care if you wear a dress, or a skirt and blouse, or jeans and a shirt. Shoes or boots will protect your feet from hurtful things. But from now on, you will wear clothes. You will not make your mother chase you to dress you. You can choose what you want to wear and Mama will help you get dressed. You aren't a baby any more, and it's time you started acting more grown up. If you don't do what I say – and what Mama says – then you will be punished. Do you understand me?"
Libba looked at her father slyly. "What kind of punishment?"
Adam sidestepped a direct answer. "Think of what you like the most. That will be taken away from you for a while."
A frown, reminiscent of one of Sam's facial expressions, crossed Libba's face. She sighed. "Okay, Papa."
But Young couldn't help but giggle. "Libba's in trouble," he chanted.
Adam turned to his son. "And the same thing goes for you, young man. You will find that good behavior is much better than bad behavior."
Young stopped giggling. "Yes, sir," he said solemnly.
Never again did Sam or Adam have a problem with naked children running amok. They had other things to watch out for.
