BOSTON

Father and Son

(Part 2)

"I give up!"

"Don't give up - it's not that hard, you just have to keep playing with it - that's part of the fun."

"Then I surrender to your superior expertise. I'll return to struggling with the three puzzles I already have - I call them Adam, Hoss and Joe." Ben tossed the puzzles one by one back in the box to punctuate. "They're enough for me."

Abel chuckled. "But at least you've got a chance of solving the Chinese ones."

Ben harumphed. "A good point. Let me take another look…" He fished one of the puzzles out of the box and began examining it again. He kept his eyes intently on it when he asked casually, "You warm enough?"

"If I were any warmer," Adam answered sweetly, "I would burst into flame. Thanks to Grandfather." He fingered the scarlet merino dressing gown he was wrapped in. "Not that I don't appreciate it. Mrs. Longworth made me gloves, too - to go with my Harvard scarf."

"You're lucky I don't add a shawl," drawled Abel.

Adam studied him, trying to decide whether he was serious or not. "I am NOT wearing a shawl," he objected uneasily.

Abel snickered. "Sounding like himself again, isn't he? Disrespectful."

Ben raised his brows, looking from one to the other. "Adam, I hope you haven't really been disrespectful to your grandfather?"

Adam sighed and dropped his head back against his pillows. "No, of course, I haven't…I mean, not about anything that matters…well, you know…"

"No," repeated Ben with a great show of patience. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

Adam pressed his hands over his eyes and groaned. "Where is Mrs. Longworth anyway?"

"Downstairs making tea for a certain ungrateful birthday boy, so don't look to her to protect you," Abel smirked. "It's terrible, really," he continued sorrowfully. "Taking advantage of an old man…"

Ben's brows rose higher, but there was a suggestion of a smile in his eyes. "I see," he intoned severely. "In what way, pray?"

"Oh, stop tormenting the poor boy, the two of you," Mrs. Longworth appeared as if by magic, with a spoon and a bottle in her hand. She measured out a careful spoonful from the bottle. "Or you'll give him a relapse."

The smile left Ben's eyes entirely and he peered closely at his son.

"And on his birthday, too. Really, I can't leave the three of you alone for a minute." She proffered the spoon, and Adam took it obediently.

Ben blinked in surprise. "Well, with a nurse like you, I don't think he'd have the nerve to relapse," he said at last, watching Adam carefully.

"He's a very good patient."

Ben gave a surprised laugh. "You would certainly be the first to say so." Then frowned again, remembering that Adam had probably been too ill to fight back. Or maybe, he mused wistfully, watching as Mrs. Longworth adjusted his pillows, it was a woman's touch that made the difference. "What do you say, Adam? Are you ready for your gifts, or do you need a rest first?"

"I don't need a rest," Adam protested, insulted, and Ben smiled again. Ah, yes - that was more like it - that was the boy he knew.

"Very well, then. You have your grandfather's - how about the ones from home?" He rummaged through a small sack by his chair. "Let's see…this one is from Hop Sing. The note's in Chinese, I'm afraid."

Adam eyed it curiously. "That's okay. He probably only used character combinations he was sure I knew…" he looked at the square his father handed him and folded back the rice paper to reveal a small tile. On it, inked in a few quick lines, was a tortoise swimming in water. Adam studied the Chinese characters marching down the paper.

"Mister Adam," he read slowly, "place this tortoise behind you while you study and he will bring you success and long life. Regards with honor, your friend, Hop Sing. That's funny - Hop Sing doesn't celebrate birthdays the way we do."

Ben listened, his throat strangely tight. Long life. He knew why Hop Sing had sent the gift - he must have been worried too, in his own way. "Well, perhaps he felt it was a special occasion. That's lovely work - there's a man in the Chinese section of Virginia City who paints those - Hop Sing must have stopped there. You'll have to write him, when you're up to it."

Adam nodded, absorbed in his tile. "I'll see how much Chinese I can remember, outside of the signs in Chinatown and the fai chun."

"Well, if you write most of it in English, Hoss can read it aloud to him. Good practice for both of them. Hoss was very particular that I give you this, too, but he wouldn't let me see it. Want his next?"

Adam took the tied up handkerchief, feeling its lightness. "Wonder what he's up to this year? Doesn't feel like any of his carving…" He picked at the thong that knotted the handkerchief closed, let out a frustrated breath as his fingers fumbled weakly at it.

Ben took it gently out of his hand and undid the thong before handing it wordlessly back.

Adam frowned at it, his brows pushed together.

"You'll get your strength back," Ben prodded patiently. "It'll just take some time. Now, what does Hoss have to say?"

Adam unfolded the handkerchief, his frown melting into a smile. He unrolled the note inside.

"Dear Adam, this here's my lucky rabbit's foot. I got it off the back left leg of a real big one I caught in one of my snares. I heard as how if you keep it with you all the time, it will protect you from trouble and all kinds of things. Figgered as how if you hung it on your watch chain or something you'd have protection all the time even though you're far away, until you come back home. I know you ain't coming home real soon, so I thought you could use it. Happy Birthday. Love, Hoss. PS That there rabbit made a real nice stew, too."

Adam picked up the brown rabbit's foot by the piece of leather looped through one end. "I guess between Hoss and Hop Sing I'm protected against just about everything."

Ben silently hoped that was true, but said aloud, "Hoss figured out that I wasn't quite coming here for a social call and wanted very much to come along. I guess this was as close as he could get to it. He's been very worried - I know he'd appreciate hearing from you personally."

Adam nodded, stroking the rabbit's foot lightly. "Joe know?"

"No, no - Joe is too young to make the connection. It was hard enough to get out of the house without him as it was. Hoss is keeping an eye on him until I get back."

"Huh." Adam didn't look up, continued his rhythmic stroking of the rabbit fur.

"I know what you're thinking, son, but they'll be fine - Joe is nearly the age you were when I left you in charge of Hoss to go to New Orleans. Hoss is fifteen."

Adam nodded again but managed to look unconvinced.

Ben tossed him a small bag. "Let's see what the scamp sent you."

Adam picked up the trim doeskin bag and loosened the drawstring at the neck. He pulled out a roll of paper and peered into the bag. After a second, he turned it upside down and a round sphere rolled into his palm. He looked at it for a second, then unrolled the note.

"Dear Adam, I was making you something for your birthday but then Pa had to leave real fast and I didn't get it done on time so I sent this instead. It's my best aggie that I won off of Jimmy Crocker and I reckon it's about the best thing I have except for my pony and Pa couldn't travel with him anyway. I hope you have a Happy Birthday, I sure would like to be there, but Pa says no so me and Hoss have to stay here instead. Why don't you come home soon? We miss you and I could show you how to use the aggie, I win all the time with it. Love, Joe."

Adam chuckled softly, rolling the marble in his palm. "Poor kid. Wonder what he's playing with now? Maybe you should take it back to him, Pa."

"Never. He'd be mortally offended. Though I am somewhat distressed to learn that all my sons seem to collect their sources of entertainment by winning them off of other boys."

Something in his tone made Adam look at him suspiciously, and Ben shifted his eyes pointedly to the stereopticon lying on the desk nearby.

Adam turned reproachful eyes to Abel.

Abel threw up his hands. "All right! I told him! I saw no harm! How was I to know he'd become a prig about such things? Why, when we were traveling on shipboard, he took part in many a wager, aye, and cleaned up often, too, as I recall!"

Now it was Ben's turn to look reproachful. "Captain!" he bellowed.

Adam's eyes danced. "He did?"

"It is NOT necessary to reveal all my youthful indiscretions to my son!"

"Well, I revealed his, so fair is fair it seems to me."

"That's all very well," argued Ben heatedly, "but I'm trying to set an example here!"

"Aye, and so you did - a fine example, too, without even knowing it, since you always used to win and apparently so does he. And here's young Joseph, following the tradition."

Adam gave a crack of laughter that turned into a cough. Ben half rose to go to him, but Adam waved him back down, getting the cough under control and reaching carefully for the glass of water nearby. "Maybe you should take the stereopticon back to Hoss and Joe," he suggested when he could get his breath. "They'd love it."

"I'm sure they would, but you have some long weeks in bed ahead of you and will be wanting it to assuage your boredom. Besides…" He pulled out a rectangular box. "Happy Birthday."

Adam looked at him questioningly. "I thought we agreed…"

"Yes, yes, I know - " Ben shifted. "I find I can't actually just let your birthday go by though, so - well. There you are."

The truth was that he hadn't had time to purchase anything for Adam's birthday either - had thought to send him money - surely that would be most practical - he would be needing a few new things, or books, or had school expenses by now…but while running errands yesterday he had found himself drawn irresistibly to a store window, and then inside. He had felt both foolish and satisfied as he left the store with a wrapped package.

Just this once, he told himself. He hadn't been able to all those years ago, but that didn't mean it was too late, did it? So, why not?

Adam unrolled the protective wrapping and looked at the box inside. He tilted the lid so that he could read it, a slow smile starting. "Stereopticon cards of the world's great architecture…" The smile grew into a grin as he shook the lid free. "Gee - thanks, Pa." He held up the top card and studied it intently.

"Eh, now we've lost him," sighed Abel darkly.

Ben ignored him, rising to hand Adam the stereopticon and staying to look over his shoulder. "Maybe this will at least keep you from jumping out of bed before you're supposed to."

Adam held the stereopticon against his eyes, murmuring in a preoccupied voice, "I'll admit that I probably won't be doing any jumping until I get the hang of sitting again…you should see this - take a look."

Ben took the instrument from him and focused on the card. "Very nice. What is it?"

"Il Campidoglio, in Rome. Michelangelo designed it. I've seen sketches, but not like this." Adam picked up the next picture, examining it while Ben gazed at the Campidoglio. "Look - St. Peter's Basilica. See what it looks like through the viewer - " he handed it to Ben, while Abel cleared his throat.

"If you two can set aside your toys for just a second, I'd like to give Adam my gift."

Adam lowered the stereopticon Ben had handed back to him and stroked the lapel of his dressing gown. "I thought I was wearing my gift."

"Naw, naw - that's just your get well gift, since you don't seem to be bright enough to protect yourself from these wintery New England drafts."

"It's nearly summer," Adam pointed out.

Abel scowled. "That's not the point - these springs are damp and - oh, devil take it. Here. Happy Birthday."

Adam accepted the envelope from him and turned it over in his hands.

"It doesn't do tricks or anything, so you might just as well open it."

Adam pried open the flap and pulled out the paper inside. He read it over, his face very still. When he looked up, Ben couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Grandfather," he said slowly. "I - I don't know - "

Abel rose impatiently. "What is there to know? If you aren't the worst fellow for knowing how to accept a gift! You teach him that?"

"No, I taught him very good manners," returned Ben easily, but he rested a hand on Adam's shoulder at the same time and gently took the paper from his grip. "He must have picked that up here. Let me see." He read the paper over, then eyed Abel keenly over the top. "Well. That's very generous, Captain."

Abel shrugged. "Well, why not? He's twenty-one now and it will all be his one day anyway - might as well have a stake in it now. If there's one thing I thought a lot about all these days and nights he was sick it was the wastefulness of waiting." He turned his eyes to Adam. "You're working there now anyway - might just as well have a little of the money in your pocket. Of course, I still have controlling interest. That means what I say, goes. After I'm gone you can start instituting some of your crazy modern notions and run the place to ruin, like your father before you."

Ben folded the paper decidedly and looked up, stung. "Now, wait just a minute - I seem to remember my crazy modern ideas as being very successful - in fact, so successful that we eventually pulled a lot of Mandible's trade, if I recall - "

"Grandfather told me about that," put in Adam innocently. "I'm glad you're on the side of progress, Pa. I have a lot of modern ideas I'd like to try out on the Ponderosa when I get back."

"There is nothing wrong with the way the Ponderosa - " Ben stopped abruptly, looked at him, and then at Abel. "I don't see any reason to just arbitrarily…" Both Abel and Adam were staring fixedly at him, and he shook his head. "We'll - we'll talk about it when you return," he finished weakly with one more pointed glare in Abel's direction.

Abel smiled back beatifically.

"Thank you, Grandfather. I'm - speechless."

"Well, that's something anyway." Abel strolled over to the bed to stand next to him. "It's something your father and mother and I built together - only makes sense that you should have a share in it. After all, you're the only other thing we ever built together."

"Oh, you helped, did you?" returned Ben dryly. "Funny, I don't remember you even being in the room."

Abel's eyes twinkled. "But I contributed the mother. Fairly important contribution. I think we need a birthday toast."

Mrs. Longworth rose. "I'll get the brandy, and some nice port for Adam - very strengthening. Then I think Adam should take a rest if he's going to be awake for his birthday dinner."

Adam opened his eyes quickly, trying to look as though they had been that way all along. "I'm not tired," he protested unconvincingly.

"Mrs. Longworth is right - we'll have a toast, then you can have a nap. Then we'll have dinner right here."

Adam nodded resignedly. "No downstairs?"

"Maybe in a couple of days."

"Why don't you come with me, Abel? I could use a hand opening the brandy."

Abel blinked at her. "It's decanted."

"The port, then," Mrs. Longworth continued unperturbedly, eyeing him significantly.

Ben fought hard to suppress a smile and slid a glance at Adam. He surprised a knowing smile on Adam's face and raised his brows at him. Adam winked solemnly in reply.

"We opened that bottle for the doctor just the other - oh!" Abel saw her eyes travel quickly from Ben to Adam then back to him. "Oh, of course! Why the devil don't you just say so, woman? You know I'm no good at this hinting business!"

"Truer words were never spoken. Come along and let the boys have a few minutes alone…" she ushered him ahead of her and closed the door firmly behind her.

Ben shook his head as the door closed. "This is probably the only place in the world I can come and still be considered a boy."

Adam picked at his quilt. "I guess that would make me more or less an infant, then."

Ben raised his brows and pulled out the chair next to the bed to get comfortable. "Problems with your grandfather?"

"No, no - " Adam shook his head. "He's been wonderful to me. Mostly we have a really good time. He just - worries a lot. Smothers. I think he thinks I'm going to break."

"Ah, well, worrying. A grandfather's prerogative, I'm afraid. A father's, too. And then, well," he reached over to smooth Adam's hair back from his forehead under the guise of testing his temperature. "You almost did break, didn't you?"

"That could have happened to anybody."

"That's what makes it worrisome, you see." Adam didn't pull back from his hand, even slightly, so, emboldened, he let it stay, resting on his hair.

"When are you heading back?" Adam asked at last.

"A few weeks. Now that I'm here I want to recover from the journey, catch up with Abel, check on a few old friends, see a little of Boston, make sure that you're really on your way to wellness. I want to see you a little stronger before I go anywhere."

Adam's brow wrinkled. "Can you be away that long?"

"Now who's worrying?"

Adam smiled drowsily. "A grandfather's prerogative and a father's prerogative. Don't sons and grandsons have any prerogatives?"

"Certainly they do. It's their prerogative to be smothered." He dropped a light kiss on Adam's hair. "For a little while anyway. It won't kill you. I did a lot of thinking on the way here, and I think you're running a deficit on smothering."

Adam's eyes fluttered closed, then opened again. "That's the problem," he muttered. "I'm not used to it. You always sort of trusted me to figure out the right thing to do myself."

Ben pulled back, watching his face. "Is that how you saw it?"

Adam looked surprised. "Sure. How else?"

"I just - " Ben shook his head. "Like I said, I did a lot of thinking on the way here - a lot of remembering about how I raised you. I couldn't help feeling that you might have benefited from a bit more - structure. Instruction. That you came out fine despite me, rather than because of me."

"How can you say that?" Adam tried to push himself upright, but Ben's gentle pressure on his shoulder kept him where he was. "I learned everything from you."

"Funny, because I don't remember teaching you anything, except your letters and your numbers, of course."

"The stars."

"Yes, well, those."

"How to do a job. How to drive a team. Lots of things. But, I don't think…" Adam paused, trying to remember specifically, trying to turn feelings into words. "I guess it wasn't so much what you said, really," he decided at last. "I learned what to do by watching you, what you did, how you acted. I learned what was right and wrong just by - being with you. I think that means more than words anyway. Words and actions don't always match, and then neither one means anything." His eyes drooped wearily.

"Hm," Ben watched him thoughtfully, his own face relaxing. "Well. I went round to see your Dean of Students yesterday, by the way, about making up your exams."

Adam's eyes sprang open. "You didn't take Grandfather?"

Ben's eyes lit curiously. "No. Why?"

"He just - can get - " Adam grimaced. "A little - effusive."

Ben chuckled. "Also a grandparent's prerogative."

"He does it to torment me."

"That too, no doubt."

"What did the Dean say?"

"He said that they actually had a few students down with typhoid, so there will be formal make up exams for all of you. You'll receive notice when they have it all worked out."

"Anybody I know?"

"Not sure."

"Anybody - everybody all right?"

"I didn't ask that either. For the time being I'm contenting myself with knowing that you are."

"Did I…you came all this way. Was I…?"

"Yes. If you don't mind, it's something I'd just as soon not talk about."

Adam nodded and closed his eyes again. "I don't remember much about it."

"You know, I think we'd better save your birthday toast for dinner. I'm not sure you can stay awake for it now." He picked up the stereopticon and new box of cards and moved to put them on the desk, out of the way, paused. "Adam?"

"Mm?" Adam didn't open his eyes.

"I saw some of these in the shop yesterday. An expensive toy."

"Mm hm. Don't worry - Charlie already has another one. His father buys him everything."

"No doubt. But what on earth did you have to stake for your part of the wager?"

Adam squinted one eye open. "Oh. Hm." He opened both eyes slowly, considered him. "I wouldn't worry about it, Pa," he said at last. "You know what you always taught me - never bet what you don't own or can't afford to lose." He smiled dazzlingly and Ben raised his brows politely. Every tooth showing. The charmer's smile. Not a good sign.

"Yes, I did teach you that. Which is why I can't imagine what you own that you could put up against it."

Color crept into Adam's face. "Pa, I promise you I didn't do anything illegal or shady."

"I'm glad to hear it. What did you use?"

Adam winced. "Charlie was bound to lose anyway. He's careless at billiards, just like everything else."

"Still, I doubt he'd make a bet without you putting something up in turn."

Adam's color deepened, and he mumbled something under his breath.

Ben leaned in to hear better. "What was that?"

Adam grit his teeth. "If I lost," he repeated more precisely, "I - had to take his sister to the Fall Cotillion."

"You - WHAT?"

"I told you - I wasn't going to lose. And I danced two dances with her at the cotillion anyway. So everything worked out fine."

"I - " Ben sat back, flabbergasted. "I don't know what to say. Do you often bet with your favors?"

"Of course I don't - " Adam was scarlet now, and he paused to take a breath. "It was Charlie's idea. She - wanted to dance with a real cowboy. I know how silly it sounds - "

"I see." Ben suddenly had to repress the urge to laugh out loud. He was definitely getting old, he decided. "Um - a bit of an exotic out here, are you?"

Adam grinned, relieved to see him smile. "I guess. Or a curiosity. Or a freak. Sometimes works that way, too."

"Troubles?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

"All right. And - you don't often…?"

"Of course I don't! I might have had one beer too many at the time and - well - " He looked at the stereopticon in Ben's hands and shrugged.

"And you couldn't resist this thing."

"It's something, isn't it?" Adam gazed at it fondly.

"Very interesting. How does it work?"

Adam took it from him, gesturing to the eye holes. "Uses Euclid's principal of binocular vision. You know, a lot of art has its basis in math, if you really look at it. Music, too…see how the two pictures are slightly different? That's how your eyes see, and that's why we see things as three dimensional, instead of flat - look here and you'll see how it throws the two images together - it's all a matter of perspective…"

Ben accepted the instrument from him, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. "Perspective, hm?"

Adam looked at him, and he knew their memories had matched.

"Told you you taught me a lot," said Adam quietly after a minute.

"Well, I know I never taught you about Euclid's binocular vision."

"Found a few things out for myself."

Ben saw the stereopticon card dip in his hand and made a snatch for it. "I am going to tell Mrs. Longworth to hold off on the toast, and you are going to get some sleep. No more questions until you've had some rest, I promise. Too much excitement for one morning."

Adam rolled his eyes, but spoiled the affect by yawning.

Ben removed one of the pillows so he could lie flat and adjusted the covers, then froze, nearly bowled over by a sudden tidal wave of nostalgia.

Adam studied his face through half-open eyes. "Something wrong?" he murmured.

"No," Ben smiled. "Just remembering how many times I've done this. When you were small, it didn't matter how close to sleep you were; you always managed to wheedle a story."

"Mm." Adam closed his eyes. "Got one?"

Ben laughed. "It's been a long time since I've needed one."

"Tell me how Hoss and Joe are doing, then."

Ben looked around the room, seeing it as it looked today, filled with Adam's books and things, with Adam in the old walnut bed; seeing it as it had looked twenty-one years ago, filled with his and Elizabeth's books and things, with Elizabeth in the old walnut bed. For a second the two slightly different pictures overlaid each other, like the double images through the stereopticon lenses, dissolving time to form one deeper, merged view of his present and his past.

He swallowed hard, then lay his hand on Adam's, squeezed lightly. "I have a better idea," he said slowly. "In honor of the day and the location - why don't I tell you a story about your mother?"

TBC