Summary:  Joe discovers that his liking for raspshberriesh ..I mean…raspberry cordial has repercussions…

Rating:  K+  (1,760 words)

A Little Less, Next Time

I was leaning against one of the posts that support the porch of the saloon known here in Virginia City as The Sazarac. Night had drawn in and it was my intention to get some clean fresh air into my lungs after being confined for some hours in the saloon.

Big Ed Henderson had a big game on in the back room and the stink of tobacco had become both too thick even for my liking. I’d had things to deal with, business wise, which had caused my stay in town to be somewhat extended and after a few hours of discussion we had been drawn inevitably to the back room, strictly as onlookers. I hadn’t made my money the easy way, and had no intentions of losing it the foolhardy way.

So there I was, leaning against the post. The moon and stars were shining so brightly that the whole town was bathed in a silvery light. Even the sounds of the saloons and hurdy gurdy houses were muted in the beauty of that moonlight.

I was not intending to re-enter the Sazarac immediately although there were still some loose ends to tie up before the evening was finished, so I was just standing around, minding my own business. I had just tilted my hat forwards over my eyes – it helps me to think – when the saloon doors crashed open and I heard a high pitched giggle close by me, accompanied by some mumbling and scuffling.

I just had enough time to retreat further into the shadows when the two men came into full view. It would be fairer to say that it was one man and a boy, a youth. The man was big. I don’t mean by that, fat and wide, or tall and thin, he was taller than average and had a build on him like a young Colossus. He was dragging, hauling, pulling along the younger man who was doing all in his power to resist being dragged, hauled and pulled.

“Leggo, Hoss.”

“No, I ain’t gonna let go of ya, Little Joe. If Pa see’s you in this fashion he’ll tan the hide off’n me as well as you.”

“Allihadish a drinka watter.”

“What?”

“I shaid, all I hadish a drinkawatter.”

“You had no such thing.”

Hoss gave his brother, (I recognised them as two of the Cartwright brothers, quite famous in these parts) a slight shake which made Joe giggle, then clap his hand over his mouth as though realising that giggling was a sure sigh of intoxication. His free hand he waved too and fro in front of his face and his legs gave way every other step he made.

“I did sho.” he declared resolutely.

“Joe, I’m telling’ you that you didn’t.”

“Raspberriesh – raspberriesh cordial. My vewwy best favour -hic- ite.”

“Yeah, is that so? Perhaps you should take a little less next time,” Hoss grumbled as he hauled Joe down the steps towards the horses.

“Wha-? Whar you taking me, you big galoot?”

There seemed to be a slight tussle at this point as Hoss attempted to keep his brother upright and Joe tried to push his brother away from him. Eventually Hoss grabbed Joe by the upper arms and pinned them down his sides, “I’m going to take you home, Joe, right this minute.”

“Oh yeah?” Joe struggled.

“Yeah!”

“I ain’t gonna go. I want more -hic- raspberries watta”

“Look, Joe, I ain’t gonna say this but one more time, git on your feet and start walking.”

“I am too.”

“You ain’t.”

Joe heaved in a gulp of air and pulled his arms free, his knees buckled and Hoss grabbed him. I saw the big man turn his head away with his nose wrinkled and his face all screwed up,

“Phew, Joe, jest how much did you drink in thar? You stink!”

“I don’t.” Joe mumbled, “Aw, Hoss, I feel kinda – odd. Just stand still a minute, huh, so’s I can grab a hold of you.”

“Joe, I ain’t funning none here,” Hoss cried, obviously beginning to lose patience, “If Pa were to see you right this minute -”

“Ah ha, but Pa ain’t here, ish she – he -”

“That ain’t the point, Joe, now come on and quit messin’ about.”

“I ain’t messing, Hoss.” and Joe grabbed at his brother and seemed to cling to him like a limpet clings to a rock.

I heard the sound of the door opening and a shaft of light from the interior of the saloon spread out onto the boards before fading as the door closed. Once again I disappeared further into the shadows as a dark figure began to walk in my direction. He paused a moment before moving on towards Hoss and Joe Cartwright, passing me along the way.

I thought initially it was the Sheriff doing his rounds but at second glance realised it was the eldest of the three brothers – Adam Cartwright.

“What’s going on?”

The deep clipped voice cut through the giggles and the grumbles and both the younger men froze there and then, forming a rather odd tableau in the shadows cast by the buildings on either side of the street.

“Nuthin’ Adam,” Hoss said quickly, releasing his brother who crumpled immediately into a heap right at his feet.

“Nothing?” Adam frowned.

I could see the quizzical expression on his face even from where I was standing. The moon light upon his face made the high cheekbones and the planes of his face appear quite sinister as shadows played across them.

“I haematoma watter – raspberries” Joe giggled.

“He’s drunk” Hoss sighed.

“Yeah,” Adam rubbed the back of his neck as he stood there looking down at his brother and having obviously formed the same opinion. He then leaned down and put a hand under Joe’s armpit while Hoss put an arm under Joe’s other armpit. Together they hauled him back onto his feet.

Little Joe’s boots left score marks in the dirt as they dragged him along to his horse and carefully manoeuvred him into the saddle. I could see it was going to be difficult keeping him on top of the horse as he was already well on the way to falling out of the saddle, it was only Hoss hold on his shirt that kept him steady.

“You ain’t going to be able to ride him home like that, Hoss.” Adam declared, “He’ll fall off and crack his head, or break his leg.”

“Cain’t stay here with him, Adam. Pa’s expecting him up bright and early tomorrow morning for the round up.”

“You’ll have to tie him onto the saddle.” Adam suggested.

This resulted in a gurgle of a chuckle from the hapless youth who was sliding inevitably downwards over the side of his horse.

“He’ll fall off.” Hoss said, grabbing at his brother by the back of his shirt.

Adam and Hoss now looked at one another thoughtfully, and then Adam nodded and indicated that they take Joe from the saddle. Joe slid off easy as winking; he was practically on the ground anyway. He looked up at Adam. He looked like a floppy rag doll being supported by Hoss’ arms and he giggled, and then waved a hand at Adam.

“How come he’s got so drunk?” Adam asked Hoss, “Why weren’t you keeping an eye on him.”

“I was, but then he gave me the slip and went off with Chuck.”

“That ain’t no excuse, Hoss.”

“I know it ain’t no excuse, Adam, becos it’s a reason.”

I could see Hoss was getting a bit hot under the collar at his brothers implication of neglect on his part, and he squared his shoulders as though ready to make a stand on the matter,

“Pa said Joe was not to step foot in the Sazarac again after what happened last month when he lost all his allowance gambling with Chuck. So why’d you let him go in and especially why’d you let him go off with Chuck again?”

“Becos the ornery little …”

“Hey, Adam …” Joe slurred now, as though only just aware of Adam‘s presence on the scene.

“You’ve been drinking rot gut again, haven’t you? Pa would tan your hide if he saw you.” Adam scolded, grabbing the miscreant by the collar of his shirt and hauling him towards the water trough.

At least they tipped him in gently enough. He just slid in like a landed fish and gracefully came back up to the surface, spitting water and shaking his head and gasping for air.

“What did you do that for?” he protested loudly.

The door of the saloon opened and a girl came out. She stood there awhile, one hand on her hip and the breeze making her short flouncy skirt sway against her legs. Then she flung a dark object out into the street. It was Joe’s hat. Adam picked it up and slapped the dust from it against his leg as he walked back to his brother, then rammed it on Joe’s head.

“Do you think you’ll be safe enough to ride home now, before Pa sees you?”

“All I had was raspberry cordial – hic” Joe protested, struggling to get out of the trough only to sink down again.

Hoss hauled him up by grabbing the front of his shirt, and then he and Adam got the boy back to the horse, dripping wet and his clothes clinging to his body. Hoss heaved him up and into the saddle.

“I’ll get him home alright, Adam” Hoss said, “Jest make sure Pa don’t git to know.”

Adam nodded, and raised a hand in salute. He stood there, tall and slender, in the middle of the main street watching them as they cantered away. I could tell from the way Joe was bouncing about like a sack of potatoes in the saddle that the journey home was going to be an eventful one.

I walked over to the young man standing in the middle of the street and stood beside him,

“You didn’t see anything of that, did you, Pa?”

He turned and looked at me, grinned. I winked at him and said nothing but put a hand on his shoulder. Together we turned and made our way back into the saloon. Eventually I would have a long talk with my youngest son, put on my darkest scowl, and lecture him on the evils of drink. I’ll make sure that he takes a little less, next time.

The End

 

Tags:  Adam Cartwright, Hoss Cartwright, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright