The Haircut, or, A Day In Town Chapter 4: The Haircut, Part 4, a bonanza fanfic

The Haircut
Or,
A Day in Town

They emerged from Mrs. Volking's restaurant relatively unscathed — Adam ignored the remains of the whipped topping that had adorned the front of his shirt; only the baptism of strangers counted — and set out on the next errand, Hop Sing's shorter shopping list. The long list had been given by Mr. Gordon at the General Store to his stockroom assistant, Zeb Robertson, a huge man with a long mane of curly blonde hair that made him look like he'd just come down from the mountains. Zeb would pile their big items to one side of the stockroom, ready to be loaded when they came by with the wagon on their way home. Joe loved to watch the big man as he loaded the huge sacks of grain, his eyes wide with awe as the huge biceps flexed.

But first, they had to take care of Hop Sing's shorter list, which was unreadable, even by the highly educated Adam Cartwright, because it was in Chinese.

Chinatown was one of Little Joe's favorite places to visit. He understood a few words here and there, but mostly he was fascinated by the different smells and just the general look of everything in this small community. He practically dragged his older brother to Li Chang's little shop, knowing that Hop Sing preferred the old man's herbs to anyone else's.

The Oriental greeted them with a short bow and words of welcome, which both Cartwrights returned, their bow calculated to just the right degree, thanks to Hop Sing's coaching. The old man's eyes lit up at their courtesy. "And how can Li Chang help honorable Cartwrights today?" he asked.

Adam pulled the list from his pocket, but it was Joe who spoke first.

"Hop Sing asked us to get these things for him so's he could make a good dinner for Hoss," he said importantly.

Li Chang took the list from Adam and perused it thoughtfully.

"Do you understand what he wants?" asked Joe, worried. "I tried to read it, but I couldn't find any words. I can read, you know. I'm learning in school."

"Yes, little one, Li Chang can read exactly what Hop Sing need." He showed the list to the boy. "You cannot read list because it written in Chinese. You see this drawing?"

Adam had been standing back, watching his little brother charm the old man, but at this he stepped forward to see where Li Chang was pointing.

"Uh-huh," replied Joe. "It looks like a house."

Li Chang smiled and took a small bottle full of dried leaves from his shelf. "It is symbol for fo-ti-tieng. Give you long life." He looked at Adam with a gleam in his eye and winked, ever so slightly. "Make you very strong."

Adam raised an eyebrow at him and regarded the bottle with renewed interest.

Joe looked at the paper, then the label on the bottle. He looked at the old man for permission, then took the bottle and carefully studied what he thought of as the picture on it, comparing the sweeping strokes with the picture on their cook's list. While Li Chang started to pull small bottles and packets from his shelves, Joe showed it to Adam and spoke slowly, cautiously. "They don't look exactly the same."

"Well, buddy, your writing doesn't look just like mine, either."

"That's 'cause I'm still learning," Joe answered.

"How about mine and Pa's?"

"Yeah, I can read yours, but I can't always read Pa's."

Adam smiled. "Maybe that's because he didn't have Mr. Talbot for a teacher."

Joe handed the bottle to him and asked, "Did he make you write your letters over and over and over 'til they were perfect?"

"Well," and he scratched at the back of his head in thought, "I'd already learned my letters by that time, but I had to write a few reports over again because he said he couldn't read them. I learned pretty quick to be more careful. And it was a good thing I did, because the professors in Boston were even pickier." He shuddered a bit theatrically. "I sure didn't want to rewrite any of those reports — they could be as much as fifty pages long."

"Gee!" Joe stared at him in awe. "And here I thought you were having fun all that time."

Adam laughed and ruffled his little brother's hair. "I had some fun, sure, but it was a lot of schoolwork, too."

The boy looked down at his feet and rubbed a hand along the side of his jeans. "Was it worth it?" he asked in a small voice.

Adam's brows drew together in concern, and he crouched down so he could see Joe's eyes. "Worth what, little buddy?"

Joe turned his gaze aside. "Leavin' us." His soft voice was filled with longing.

Adam sighed. "C'mere." He drew the boy into his arms, gently brushing the long curls away from his face. He chose not to answer the question Joe had asked, but rather the one in his heart, the one that shone with pain from the boy's sparkling emerald eyes. "If I could have learned what I needed by staying here, nothing would have dragged me away from you, Joe. If even St. Louis or San Francisco had what I needed, I never would have gone that far. There just wasn't any other way. I missed you so much, little buddy, sometimes I thought my heart would break."

Tears shimmered on the boy's lashes. "You never said that when you wrote."

"Maybe I should have," he answered carefully. "I just didn't want to make you as sad as I was. I wanted you to be happy when you got my letters, like I was when I got one from you."

"Did they? My letters — did they make you happy, I mean?"

He drew his little brother in close, wrapped him in his arms and tucked the curly head under his chin. His words were just a breath of sorrowful air. "Oh, Joe, sometimes they were the only thing that kept me going. I remember one you wrote, when you said you were proud of me for all the things I was learning. I don't know how you knew I needed to hear that. School was really hard and I was missing you and Pa and Hoss so much — I didn't have much longer before I could come home, and I could barely stand it. Reading those words from you, though, that my youngest brother was proud of me . . . well, it gave me the strength to keep going." He grinned suddenly and pushed Joe away just a bit so he could look at him. "Kinda like cheering me on at the end of a race."

"Yeah?" The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile.

"Yeah," Adam said definitely. He waited patiently, though, since Joe didn't move from the circle of his arms, but lifted a small hand tentatively to touch his hair.

"How come you keep your hair so short?" he asked finally.

Adam blinked in surprise. That wasn't what he expected to hear. "It's easier to take care of that way."

Joe tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "An' you don't feel bad when you get it cut?"

It was an odd sort of question, but taking advantage of the moment, Adam answered emphatically, "Nope. In fact, I feel better. Especially if I have a shave at the same time. Then I feel happier, cleaner, stronger — like I could take on the world." A slight exaggeration, he thought, but all in a good cause.

Joe twisted out of his brother's arms, his mood swinging suddenly to exuberant. "Let's go see if Mr. Robertson is ready to load our supplies."

The way his little brother could change subjects would have kept the brightest of his professors hopping. "All right." He stood. "Li Chang? Have you had time to finish?"

The old man shuffled forward, basket in hand. "Hop Sing return basket next time he visit."

Adam pulled out his wallet and handed over the amount Hop Sing had told him. "Is that enough?"

Li Chang bowed. "Yes. If you would be so kind, please tell Hop Sing I look forward to seeing him again."

Adam bowed in return, Joe just a moment behind. "I'll make sure he has time to spend with you."

They left, all three pleased with their visit, though for vastly different reasons. Li Chang reflected on the courtesy of the Cartwrights to his people, as well as the pleasant feeling of tucking their money into his coffers. Adam was glad he'd had a chance to ease a worry that he hadn't known his little brother had. And Joe — well, Adam would find out soon enough what had made Little Joe Cartwright so happy.