6
Ben slept off and on for the next three days. The storm blew for two of those days, and his sons did little more than chop firewood, clear paths in the snow to the barn and the main road, help Hop Sing to cook and clean up, and care for their father. Hoss and Joe went out to fix the lean to that had fallen on their resident Chinaman, and Adam went out on the roofs once to clear them of snow. The chickens had be released into the barn so that their coop could be cleaned out, and eggs collected. Returning the chickens to their coop was an exercise in near futility that ended with threats to several of the hens that if they didn't behave they would be supper. The horses appeared to have fully recovered from their injuries, and were content to stay in their stalls in the barn. Hoss fired up the forge long enough to melt down the piece of barbed wire that they'd pulled from Goliath. He spent a few hours creating a mold to reshape the metal until it pleased him.
When the storm finally blew out, Hoss and Joe took a sleigh out with shovels, axes and saws to begin clearing the trees and debris from the roads. Adam stayed with Ben, who had begun to venture from his bed, insisting on getting at least some exercise, if only up and down the halls. Bit by bit Adam filled in what Ben couldn't remember. He told his father about Goliath, about the barbed wire, and the decision not to put the bear down at first. He told his father about the hunt and the return to the house. When Ben pressed, Adam talked about his fears, his guilt.
"It bothers you still, that I...that I thought I was dying."
"Does it bother you?" Adam asked.
"No." Ben said. He finally had the pleasure of sitting in his chair by the fireplace, his feet up, a cup of tea steaming in his hands. He was plenty sore, and exhausted, but it felt good to be free of his bed. "I knew I was badly hurt, and I knew the circumstances. I was very afraid for you boys. What does bother me, is how certain I was that you boys needed my advice to go on."
"We don't need your advice, so much as we need you, Pa." Adam said.
"No.." Ben smiled softly. "No you don't need either. I hope that you want my advice, and want me to be here." Ben said, knowing it was true. "But you boys are capable of acting on your own, with clear heads, and honest hearts, even assuming me to be dead. You've shown me before. I'm ashamed that my instinct was to doubt that."
"Pa, you were hardly at your best." Adam said, knowing it was an understatement.
Ben smiled and drank the tea, letting it settle comfortably down his throat. "Mortality and pride. We wrestle with those things, valuing one over the other. We try to ignore them as if they don't exist and aren't pure facts of life that can't be ignored. But both are our downfall."
"Only one of them is a sin." Adam pointed out.
"And the other, we treat as though it were a sin, and not simply...the way things are." Ben said, smiling.
"Lord, what fools these mortals be."
"Indeed." Ben said, staring at nothing as his mind drifted. "Blessed fools, truly blessed, but fools none the less."
"Cold comfort." Adam said.
Ben's mouth crooked a little. "I suppose it is."
"I can't imagine fatherhood." Adam said.
Ben raised a brow and smiled.
"I could hardly bring myself to do for Goliath what I knew had to happen. I let him go on suffering, because I couldn't bring myself to put him down. It was almost cruelty, letting him run off into the woods. Leaving it as long as I did."
"Your brother Hoss has expressed similar guilt on that subject." Ben said. "He told me that every encounter with Goliath felt like we were torturing him, simply for being what he was. And all in the name of protecting yourselves, and me."
"In truth we either didn't have the right tools, or the right timing, or the strength...but that's hardly something Goliath would have understood."
"Hoss melted down the barbed wire and let it set in a mold that he made." Ben said. "It seems Charlie Black's whittling lessons have done some good."
"Well what did he make?"
Ben shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me. He said he had an idea that he needed to go to town for, and that he would show it to all of us when it was done. I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
Several weeks later a set of wind-chimes hung from the tree that had propped Adam up during the storm. The chimes were made by a company that created musical instruments, each metal rod tuned perfectly to chime in harmony with the others. The sounds resonated gently through the dooryard any time the wind blew, the small, flat silver bear spinning and dancing below.