Bonanza
~*~*~ Advent Calendar ~*~*~
* Day 5 *

Summary:  Ben, Adam, and Hoss find out there’s a lot more behind getting just the right Christmas present for Pa.

Rating:  G
Word Count:  810

The Christmas Poem

Ben finished throwing down hay for the line of horses and moved to the back of the loft to settle the pitchfork into a far corner where it wouldn’t get stepped on or kicked over the edge or … He shook his head, chuckling softly. Well, he would never have known half the things that could go wrong with a pitchfork if Joe had never come along. He turned toward the ladder, but before he could move forward the door below him banged open, and Hoss’s excited voice drifted up.

“… learned all about ‘em in school. Miz Jones was awful excited about ‘em, and I thought mebbe I’d do one fer Pa.”

Ben felt only minor trepidation at this announcement. If Abigail Jones approved, surely whatever Hoss had planned couldn’t be that bad …

“You’re writing Pa a poem for Christmas?”

Adam managed to hide his surprise (and doubt) well, but Ben knew his eldest. In fact, he shared the sentiment. Hoss was not known for his enthusiasm toward anything literary, and he wondered what had brought this on. Might be a lack of funding was curtailing other avenues, but his middle boy had never been shy about presenting a carving or some prize from nature. Then again, maybe he was selling the boy short. Maybe Hoss actually had found a new interest.

“Done wrote it already! Mostly, anyway. I wondered iffen I could read it and you’d tell me what ya think.”

Ben chewed anxiously on his lip. If Hoss intended this poem for Christmas he really shouldn’t be hearing it now. He was about to rustle his feet—warn the boys he was up above—when Hoss launched in without even waiting for Adam’s agreement.

Ta Pa, on accounta Christmas:

It’s Christmas on the Ponderosa
The tree is perty, ‘cause we chose a
Good one, and Adam knows a
Lotta songs we’re singin’ on the sofa.

Oh. Ohhhhh …

“Whaddya think so far, Adam?”

“It … rhymes.” His eldest son’s voice was tight. Ben wondered if mirth or sheer dumbfoundedness would show on Adam’s face, could he see it.

“Yeah, and that ain’t easy! Specially with somethin’ like Ponderosa.”

“Well, you know, all poems don’t—”

There’s presents and there’s cookies,
So good that I’d play hooky
Every day. And Little Joe’s all sticky,
And we sure are lucky
Cause Hop Sing made candy.

“Hoss, all poems don’t—”

Ben could have told Adam that he was wasting his time. Hoss was in fine form and not planning to stop for a literary lesson, no matter how badly his brother wanted to give it. In any case, it was his middle boy’s gift, and his middle boy should do the writing of it.

Even if it did involve … a lot of rhyming. Sort of.

And Pa’s here too, o’ course he is,
Cause Ponderosa’s really his.
And around here he’s the boss,
Ain’t no one who’ll double cross him.

Well that was … not quite true. Not if Adam’s placement of the cattle in the upper field last week was any indication, anyway.

“Little Joe made me put that last bit in. I tried ta tell him the rhymin’ don’t work like that, but—”

It was all the encouragement Adam needed. “Hoss, I’ve been trying to tell you. Poems don’t necessarily have to rhyme. There’re a lot of poems that don’t.”

Hoss shuffled, and Ben pictured his middle boy scratching his head. He hoped this wasn’t going to take too much longer, because his right leg was starting to cramp.

“Ya sure?”

“Of course. Here let me show you.” Adam thought for a moment, and then,

He has the power to render us happy or unhappy;
To make our service light or burdensome;
a pleasure or a toil.

Hmm. Ben scowled. Adam was apparently still upset about that whole fence thing from yesterday. He’d told the boy they’d talk about it again in the spring, but once Adam got his mind set on something he could be quite the bulldog. In any case, the words seemed a little too pointed to be accidental—Ben wondered how his son had realized he was listening.

“What’s … toil?”

“Never mind. How much more have you got?”

Paper shuffled. “Bout … three more pages. I been workin’ on this since last Tuesday!”

Three pages! His need for the outhouse was starting to outstrip the pain in his leg, which had mostly by this point gone numb.

“Last Tuesday, hmm?” Ben could almost hear the wheels turning, and something like horror began to grow. Adam’s voice was suddenly silky. “You know what, Hoss? Why don’t you sit down here and start over? Let me hear the whole thing, top to bottom, and then we can go over whatever lines you want together.”

“Really Adam? Gosh, thanks!”

Ben growled beneath his breath, and braced his hands on his knees for support, and plotted revenge.

A toil, indeed. He would show that boy some toil …

Merry Christmas! 😉

Link to 2019 Advent Calendar – December 6:

The Christmas Hostage by Belle