Summary:  This was written for Michael Landon’s 83rd birthday.  He may be gone, but he will never be forgotten!  Joe and Hoss have a discussion.

Word count: 1216

Rated: G

A Little Bit of Heaven

**********

Little Joe Cartwright halted at the top of the rise.  He pulled his tan hat off of his head and ran a hand through his chestnut curls, shoving them off his forehead, before replacing the hat at a jaunty angle.  With his eyes squinted against the late October sun, he started down the hill.  He’d noted middle brother sitting on the top rail of a section of weathered fence at the bottom of it.

The way the rail was bowed, it kind of looked like the fence was frowning.

“Hey!” the curly-haired man shouted.  When Hoss made no reply, he tried again.  “Hey, you big galoot!  You sure know how to wear a feller out.  Seems like I walked most of the day looking for you.”  When his brother still failed to respond, Joe grew concerned.  “Hey, Hoss!” he called again as he came near the fence.  “You okay?”

The wind must have shifted or something.  At least, this time Hoss heard him.  His brother turned and looked over his shoulder.

“Hey, Little Joe,” he said.

Joe was at the fence by this time.  He leaned against it and studied his brother.  Hoss didn’t look like Hoss.  He looked like Adam – all serious and sober.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

The big man pursed his lips, drew in a breath, and then let it out slowly.  “Nothin’,” he said.  “I just been thinkin’, that’s all.”

Joe climbed onto the fence rail and parked his bottom on it, careful to do so on the opposite side of the post.  He looked out the way Hoss had been looking.  What he saw what he always saw – a breathtaking landscape of towering pines cast against the brown branches of lesser trees, with tall white-capped mountain peaks behind.  The grassy lawn that lay before them was covered in pinecones and nettles, and dotted here and there with crimson and golden leaves.

“About what?”

“You ever think about Heaven, Little Joe?” Hoss asked as shifted his perch on the rail.

Joe wrinkled his nose.   “Whatever got you to thinking about that?”

His brother shrugged.  “Ain’t sure.  Maybe the time of year, what with everythin’ dyin’, you know?”

Joe reached out and punched his brother.  “You and me aren’t.  At least, I’m not anytime soon.”  He paused, suddenly concerned.  “You ain’t planning on it, are you?”

“Now, Jo-seph, a man don’t have to be plannin’ on dyin’ to consider what Heaven’s like.”

He frowned and then shrugged.  “I guess you got a point.”

“So, what do you think it’s like?”

“What?”

Hoss rolled his eyes.  “Heaven!”

He hadn’t really given it a lot of thought.  Dying and moving on wasn’t really one of his favorite subjects.

“Well, the preacher says there’s lots of clouds and harps.  You know, all kinds of people playing harps and singing all the time.”

Hoss thought a moment.  “The Good Book says there ain’t no tears in Heaven and everythin’ there is perfect.”

“Then there must not be any harps.”

His brother looked at him sideways.  “I’m serious.”

“So am I!.”  Joe snorted.  “I hate harp music!”

Hoss shook his head as he slipped off the rail.  He took a few steps and stopped, looking out over the field before them.   “You know, Joe, I can’t think of anythin’ prettier than what I got right here.  You s’pose Heaven looks like the Ponderosa?”

Joe had held on as Hoss dismounted, sure the ‘reaction’ to that ‘action’ would knock him right off.   When it didn’t, he let out a little sigh and jumped down on his own.  Walking to his giant of a brother’s side, he looked up at him.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

Hoss rammed his hands into his pockets.  “Sure am.”

The sun was setting.  It hung like a ball of fire behind the mountain peaks, casting them into silhouette.  As he stood there, watching the daily miracle, Joe considered what it might be like to see it from the other side.

“My mama’s in Heaven,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.  My mama is too.”  Hoss’s lips curled in a bit of a smile.  “You think they’re sittin’ on one of them there clouds together?”

Joe looked up.  “I think so.  I feel Mama sometimes, looking down at me.  I…”

“Yeah?”

“I hope she’s proud.”

His brother turned toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “I know she is, Little Joe.  She’s right proud.  You’re a good man.”

Joe blushed the color of the waning sun.  “Ah, cut it out….”

“No, it’s true.  I done been watchin’ you grow up for more than twenty years now and I know what you are.”

The curly-haired man swallowed.  “And what am I?”

“Well, I ain’t gonna say you don’t have your faults.  You got yourself one heck of a temper.”

“Hey!”

“And you do tend to fly off the handle quick as a rattler on a spit.”

“Now, wait a minute….”

“And, well, little brother, you sure enough know how to get out of work when you’ve a mind to.”

“I thought you said I was a good ‘man’!  You make me sound like a kid!”

Hoss lifted his hand.  “You are a kid, Joe.  You’ll always be a kid to me, but you’re more than that.”

Joe had his arms crossed.  He was tapping his toe.  “Yeah?  What more?!”

“You got yourself a heart big as the Nevada territory, and that’s not an easy thing for a man to have.  You feel things deeply, Jo-seph.  Just about as deep as those mountain shadows comin’ our way.  There’s times I worry that deep feelin’s gonna swallow you whole, but it’s who you are.”

His toe had stopped, but he was still frowning.  “What else?”

“You don’t stand for no nonsense.  A man better be what he says or you’ll do somethin’ about it.  You got yourself what some call ‘a high sense of justice’.  You don’t abide no wrongs and won’t let ‘em stand.”  Hoss smiled.  “Guess that explains why I spend most of my days haulin’ your skinny little hiney out of trouble.”

“My hiney isn’t skinny!”

Hoss laughed.  “And last of all, Little Joe….”

“Yeah?”

“Last of all, you’re determined.  Ain’t nothin’ or no one gonna stop you once you made up your mind.”

“What about handsome?” he groused.  “You didn’t say anything about my devilish good looks.”

Hoss let out a sigh.  “That’s on account of I ain’t two things.”

“What two things?”

He cuffed him on the head.  “A woman – and blind!”

“Hey!”

Middle brother cast one last look at the darkening sky and said, “Looks like the day’s about done.  It’s high time you and me got home.  Hop Sing ain’t gonna hold supper and I’m mighty hungry!”

As Hoss walked past him and started up the hill, Joe called out.  “Hey.  I just realized something.  You and I were talking about Heaven.  How’d we ended up talking about me?”

The  sun’s dying rays struck his brother’s broad form as he turned back to look at him.  He was smiling.

“I forgot to mention one other thing you ain’t, little brother, and that’s too bright.  You and Heaven.  Seems to me, Jo-seph, they’re one and the same.”

Tags: brothers, Family, Hoss Cartwright, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright