PENNSYLVANIA

Scylla and Charybdis

(Part 3)

The town was bustling with life this time as Ben and Adam made their way back through it - housewives rushing to get laundry off the line before it was blackened with the ubiquitous coal dust, or sweeping their small porches or feeding their meager collection of stock. Up above the town, the Griffin Tavern remained silent and shuttered.

Ben steered Adam to the foot of the rough path leading up the slope and back to the inn, taking his hand. "It's a bit of a climb - might be better if I carry you."

Adam dragged his eyes away from the book he kept trying to peek in. "Doh. Walk."

"Very well, but it's steep - maybe I'd better carry the book for you."

Adam clutched the book more tightly. "Doh," he repeated stubbornly.

Ben gave him a look. "All right - but at some point we're going to have a talk about this "no" business. I expect a little better manners and a little more obedience out of you, young man." Adam cocked his head at him and Ben wondered how much of what he'd said was understood. Adam's small legs toiled up the slope, and Ben was just admitting to himself that he was doing better than he'd expected when Adam suddenly stopped. "Ready for a lift?" Adam was crouched down staring intently at the ground. Ben tried not to sound impatient. "Adam."

Adam glanced up at him, then pointed.

With a resigned sigh, Ben bent over and looked. A nest of fat ants building a hill. "Yes, I see - bugs."

"Bugs," echoed Adam contemplatively, staring with wide eyes.

"Adam, I'm sure they're terribly interesting, but we don't have time for this today. I'd like you to have some lunch and a nap before we go to work tonight and to tell the truth, I wouldn't mind a bit of a nap myself - so come along."

Adam straightened reluctantly, his eyes still on the ants. "Bugs," he told Ben, taking his hand again.

When they got to the tiny attic room, Ben sat him on their straw pallet and poured some water into the washbasin. Adam's little feet were black from the walk, and he wanted to clean them before they lay down. They needed to remain civilized, no matter what their circumstances were.

Adam opened the book in his lap and happily perused the faded cloth pages. "Buhd," he informed Ben, pointing.

Ben dunked a threadbare washrag in the basin and swished it around. "Mm hm. Bird."

"Twee."

Ben wrung out the rag and judiciously applied a thin sliver of soap. "Tree. I see."

Adam turned the page. "House."

Ben squatted down and picked up one soiled foot. "That's right, house." He scrubbed the diminutive sole and examined his work.

"Cow."

Ben smiled a little at Adam's exaggerated diphthong. "Yes. Cow. Very good." He wiped the soap from the clean foot and reached for the other one.

"Papa. Baby. Nuss."

Ben was applying the cloth to the small toes, but his eyebrows jumped a little at that. He glanced at the picture. "Oh, no, Adam - " he said automatically. "I think that's the Mama."

"Mama?" Adam tilted his head questioningly at him and looked more closely at the page. He pointed to the figure in the picture. "Nuss?"

Ben felt his heart skip. If he could have snatched the words back, he would have. "The…" lying was an almost overwhelming temptation, but…he didn't like to make a habit of lying to Adam. Avoiding subjects was one thing, but…he had started this…"No. I don't think that's the nurse, Adam. I think that's the Mama. All families start with a Papa and a Mama, Adam…"

Adam looked at him. Clearly that wasn't going to be good enough.

"Sometimes, though, the…" he cleared his throat, studying the foot closely as he dried it. "Mama…has to go away. She doesn't want to, of course, but…that's why we had a nurse, while you were a baby. For a while."

Adam's face gathered into a frown, and he bent over the picture, his nose almost touching. He looked at Ben as though he wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe him. He pointed. "Mama?" he asked tentatively.

"That's right." Ben took the book from his hand and closed it firmly. "Time to nap, now. Lie down."

Adam paused and for a minute Ben thought he was going to disobey - then he lay down and sucked thoughtfully on his three favorite fingers, his eyes following Ben over them.

Ben slipped his own shirt off. "Close your eyes. I'll join you in just a minute. That's a good boy." Ben pulled the thin blanket over Adam and adjusted the window shade to block out daylight.

And tried to resist the urge to throw the goddamned book right out the window.

It seemed a long time later when Ben finally awoke. He sensed a change in the light in the room, heard the sounds of the tavern stirring, readying for tonight. He stretched without opening his eyes, felt automatically alongside on the pallet. The spot next to him was empty and no longer warm. His eyes popped open and he craned his neck about. "Adam?"

"Bugs," Adam's voice came reassuringly.

Ben massaged his eyes, trying to smother a yawn. Thank God. Good boy. He hadn't meant to sleep so long…

"Bugs," repeated Adam pleasantly, and Ben rolled over, trying to find the desire to get up.

"Yes, I know…we saw the bugs outside. There were a lot of them, weren't there?"

"Lots," agreed Adam. "Bugs. Lots."

Ben pushed himself into sitting position and rubbed a hand through his hair to wake himself. "Let's get you dressed, shall we? And…" He stopped, frowning at the sight of Adam kneeling in the corner, his eyes glued to the floor. An unpleasant suspicion dawning, he rose slowly, reaching for one boot.

Adam looked up at him as he approached and pointed, clearly pleased to share his discovery. "Bugs!"

Ben made a face, scooping Adam up so that he dangled over one arm and bringing the boot down sharply with the other. Two more well-placed blows with the boot followed.

Adam studied his father's handiwork and wrinkled his nose at him. "Gone," he observed. "Squished."

"Yes," Ben concurred dryly. "Let's hope they don't have a lot of cousins and friends."

Adam nodded sagely, gazing at the tiny corpses. "All gone."

"That is my sincere hope." Ben straightened, settling Adam more comfortably on his arm, ruffling his hair affectionately and dropping a light kiss among the wayward curls. "Oh, Adam. Maybe it is time we moved on."

The thought remained with him as they made their way down the stairs a short while later. Adam had wanted to bring his book along, but Ben had convinced him that the Tavern was too dark to enjoy it and that he should leave it where it was "safe" anyway. He hoped Adam was too young to sense his discomfort.

"We can bring your blocks instead - you could build something nice for Papa - what do you think?" Abel had managed to send a bag of bright wooden blocks - red and blue and yellow, with letters carved in some of them - to them where they had wintered in New York. For Adam's second birthday, the note had read. Ben was touched by the trouble Abel took to stay a part of his grandson's life. Adam loved the blocks and spread them out whenever there was room.

"B'ocks," agreed Adam, reaching for the bag.

"No, I'll carry them down the stairs for you. How does your mouth feel?"

Adam rubbed his cheek. "Huhts," he decided, but more as an observation now than an expression of suffering.

"We'll wait to give you more of the medicine, then. Come on."

The main room of the tavern was already filled with cigar smoke, not quite covering the savory smell of the stew that must be today's lunch.

Lillibelle seemed a little stiff and formal when she saw Ben, but she smiled warmly at Adam. "Well, you're lookin' better, heart breaker! How you feel? The doctor fix you up?"

"Yes, he gave him something that seemed to help." Adam screwed up his nose and made a face at the mention of the medicine. Ben looked at him reprovingly. "A simple answer will do, Adam. I'm sure Miss Lillibelle doesn't need a graphic display on how you feel about your medicine."

Lillibelle reached out and gave Adam's nose a tweak. "Never you mind - I feel the same way after I see him. He's a nice doctor, though, ain't he?"

Adam nodded. "Book," he explained to Lillibelle.

"Miss Chesterfield loaned Adam a book to look at."

"That so?"

"Bugs," Adam continued brightly. "Lots. Papa squished."

Ben felt his face flame. "ADAM - "

"Did he now?" Lillibelle looked amused. "Well, he's a handy fella to have about, ain't he? That's one problem with the good weather - rain stops, bugs come out. Hey, Jake!" She raised her voice to a bellow, and her ten year old shadow appeared at her elbow. "Grab some kerosene when you got a minute, will you, and take it on up to Ben's room? Paint the corners - them bugs is back already. You two pull up a stool and eat - it won't last long with this crew."

Ben lifted Adam onto a stool and slid onto one next to him. They had missed breakfast, so the thin stew smelled good. He broke Adam's bread into small bits and reached for his own slice. He was just enjoying his third spoonful when he felt a small tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see Adam staring across the room to where Lillibelle was giving instructions to Jake. Ben raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Mama?" Adam asked, pointing.

Ben grimaced, following his gaze. "No, Adam," he managed to sound normal enough, he thought " - Lillibelle isn't a Mama. She's just a - a lady. Not all ladies are Mamas - just ladies with babies or big children."

Adam rumpled his face, thinking. He moved his eyes to Jake and turned a questioning gaze to Ben.

Ben sighed. "No, no - Lillibelle isn't Jake's Mama."

Adam considered this, chewing on his spoon. "Mama go 'way?" he asked at last.

Ben felt his face quiver, turned away hastily to pretend to take a mouthful of stew. "No, Adam," he continued carefully, when he thought he could trust his voice, please, Adam, please – can't we drop this subject…? "- you've seen Jake's Mama - she comes here sometimes to walk him home, remember?"

Adam seemed to be thinking about this very hard.

Ben gently turned him back to his bowl. "Eat your stew now - you missed breakfast, remember."

His hands rested on the sharp little shoulder blades as he turned him back around, and he remembered what Miss Chesterfield had said. Adam wasn't really underweight, was he? He tried to look at him the way a stranger would. He had had a recent growth spurt - he had had more baby roundness just a short while ago, then suddenly had sprouted long, skinny arms and legs, and his body hadn't seemed to have settled into it yet. But surely that was normal? Of course, he hadn't eaten well along the trail, but he seemed to be eating all right now. He sighed. It would be helpful if children came with instruction booklets. Or diagrams and charts. Both would be better.

He watched for a moment while Adam carefully ladled stew into his mouth - mostly with the spoon. "I'd like you to finish all of that, now."

"B'ocks?"

"When you're done eating. And don't talk with your mouth full." Adam sighed gustily, and Ben dabbed automatically at his mouth. Waste of time, really. Might as well wait until he was done, then dip him in the horse trough. He swallowed a couple of spoonfuls of his own dinner and checked on Adam's progress. "Eat - don't play with it."

Adam eyed it without much interest. "Done. B'ocks?"

"Not done - you barely made a dent."

"Done."

"No blocks until you eat more." Adam stuck his lip out. Ben took the spoon out of his fist and filled it. "Come on - two more spoonfuls." Adam swung his legs and studied the spoonful, then opened his mouth. "Good boy. One more. Then I want you to drink all your milk. We don't get much of that." A lot of the town people kept goats for milk, and Adam didn't seem to know the difference between it and cow's milk anyway. Adam resignedly accepted the next spoonful Ben offered.

"Down?"

"Milk first. Here - " Ben reached for the glass.

Adam shook his head. "Me."

"All right, all right - just see that you drink it." He watched Adam swallow the milk with surprising speed, then hop from the stool. "Adam - " Adam was already halfway across the room. He looked at the abandoned bowl and shook his head. Fine, fine…he'd just have to learn to live with being that terrible father with the underweight child…he'd finish his own, anyway - it tasted good.

A ragged chord split the air, and he swiveled his head. "Adam!" He looked up in time to see Adam snatch his hand away from the piano keys and put it behind his back. Ben kneaded his forehead in exasperation, starting to his feet. "How many times do we have to go over this? Barney…"

"My fault, Ben."

Ben stopped, startled by an interruption from the laconic Barney. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard him open his mouth before.

"I was showin' him." Ben's brows twitched dubiously together, but Barney stood firm. "Thought I could show 'em a couple o' chords. Hell, Ben, he can't hurt anything."

Ben made a face at the expletive - he could imagine what Adam's new favorite word was going to be - and hesitated. And sighed. "As long as he's not in your way…"

"Heck, no, Ben - be doin' us all a favor if he could learn to play and relieve Barney of his duties," chuckled Blossom, who served as one of Henry's hostesses.

"You just never get tired o' the same joke, do ya?" Barney unperturbedly offered Adam a seat on his lap so he'd have a better reach of the keyboard.

Ben settled back down to finish eating, shaking his head. The piano rattled out sounds like it was being dragged in a wagon over a bumpy road, and he looked up again to watch. In spite of himself he smiled to see Adam trying to imitate Barney's key-slamming style and shook his head again at a particularly sour chord.

Blossom and Barney had a point. Adam couldn't really make anything any worse.

"All right, son - that's enough. Time to go to work." Ben had let Adam play with Barney while he mopped up and set up the bar for the evening. Barney had shrugged off all his offers to take him off his hands, and he had to admit that things did go a lot more quickly and smoothly without Adam's inquisitive little person underfoot. But now the miners would be making their way home any minute, and their first stop would be the tavern. Some would go from there home to supper and families - some would stay to enjoy the - other - entertainments the tavern had to offer.

Adam gazed longingly at the piano keys, then at his father. Ben put his hands on his hips. "I meant 'now', Adam." Adam slid slowly from Barney's lap to the floor. "Thank Barney."

Adam grinned companionably at Barney. "'Nano," he piped cheerfully.

"That is not a thank you, young man."

Adam looked at Ben as if he didn't understand anything. "Sank you," he parroted obediently.

Barney gave the curl in the middle of Adam's forehead a little tug. "Hey, that's fine - maybe by tomorrow we'll be playin' a duet."

Blossom grinned. "Lord, let's hope so. I was thinkin' you might want him to take over a couple of sets this evenin' - could make you a couple of pennies, Ben." Then, in answer to cold looks from both Ben and Barney, "All right, all right - only jokin'! Lordy, you men got no sense of humor!"

Ben took his place behind the bar, giving the top one last wipe and opening Adam's bag of blocks to get him set up for the evening. He rolled his eyes when he realized that Adam hadn't followed him. Really, that boy seemed bent on pushing him to his limits today. "Adam," he intoned firmly. Adam didn't answer right away but stood rooted to the floor, watching the door. Sending up a brief prayer for patience, Ben made his way back around the bar and took his hand firmly. "Adam, I called you."

Adam pulled his eyes away from the door and looked up at him. He whispered something, and Ben had to crouch down to hear.

Adam grabbed onto his sleeve and pointed to the door. "Mama?" he whispered.

Ben felt his heart somersault in his chest. He peered almost fearfully at the door, unreasonably afraid of what he might see.

Jake Rowley was sliding into his jacket, and Mrs. Rowley stood close by, chatting with Lillibelle. She bent over automatically and buttoned Jake's coat for him, still chatting, then put an arm around his shoulders to steer him out the door. Ben couldn't say exactly why the simple, normal little scene hurt him, but it did. Almost as painful was the realization that Adam had sensed from him that this was something to whisper about.

"Yes, Adam - that's Jake's Mama. You've seen her before." He started to stand up, longing to turn away, but Adam still had hold of his sleeve.

He was staring at the Rowleys in deep concentration, as if working out an important problem in his head. "Where Papa?" he asked at last.

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, at least they could get away from the subject of Mamas. "Jake's Papa…went away," he explained patiently. "That's why Jake works here - to help out at home. His older brothers work in the mines. Sometimes Papas go away, too, you see." He waited for the inevitable next question, but it didn't come. In fact, Adam was so still that he looked at him more closely, a little alarmed. He looked pale, actually. Almost - stricken. "Are you all right, son?" He felt his forehead. Not really too warm. "Are your teeth hurting you?"

Adam shook his head and turned away from him. His fingers crept back into his mouth.

Ben watched him, troubled. He felt as though something was wrong, but couldn't put his finger on it. "Let's get to work then, shall we? You were going to build me something with your blocks." He took Adam's hand from his sleeve and held it to lead him to his spot behind the bar. Adam returned his grip so tightly that he glanced at him in surprise. He ran a hand lightly over the dark head. "Sure you feel all right?" Adam just stared back at him in that serious, intent way he sometimes had. Ben shook his head and gave him a gentle nudge forward.

Sometimes he didn't understand this child of his. He wondered if it would get any easier as he got older…or just more complicated.

TBC