Summary: Reflections – What do you think a Cartwright would reflect on this year? You can pull from an episode or a previous Sourdough story.
Rating: G, Word Count: 2638
I’ve added to the Leroy Brown piece from last year. The original is highlighted in bold.
Thinkin’ ’bout Leroy
As Hoss cut through the alley to get back onto the main street boardwalk, he pulled up short when he heard the faint whimpers of a child coming from behind some barrels and crates. He carefully pulled the rubble apart and leaned down. Hoss found a boy he thought to be seven or eight who turned away and hid his face against the wall behind him as he tried to stifle his cries.
“Hey there, young fella. Ya need some help?” Hoss saw the boy’s head move back and forth refusing his aid. “Can ya come on out here and let me have a look at ya and make sure yur ok?” Hoss waited a moment and then added, “I promise I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
The boy peeked over his shoulder and saw the gap-toothed smile of the man with the tall white hat. Dirty, tired, and hungry, the lad decided to take a chance. He swiped at his tear-stained, grimy face and got up. However, his eyes grew wide and filled with fear when Hoss also raised up to his full height.
“It’s ok now, buddy. I know I’m a big ‘un, but I ain’t gonna hurt ya. What’s yur name?”
“Le — Leroy.” The boy whispered.
Hoss held out his large hand to Leroy. “Pleased ta meet ya, Leroy. I’m Hoss Cartwright.”
Leroy tentatively took hold of the big man’s hand. Hoss nodded and winked.
“Now, I’m feelin’ mighty hungry. How ‘bout you?”
Leroy nodded slowly, but then his chin dropped to his chest. “I ain’t got no money, mister.”
“Well, ya know what, Leroy, I jest happen ta have enough for both o’ us.” Hoss gave the boy a reassuring smile that went unseen.
Then Leroy raised his head and squared his shoulders to look Hoss in the eye. “I ain’t allowed ta take no charity. My pa always says that Brown’s don’t ‘ccept no charity.”
Hoss forced a serious expression. “Well, I ain’t one ta argue with my pa neither, that’s fur sure.” His face then grew soft and sympathetic. “So I was jest wonderin’, where is yur pa?”
Suddenly crestfallen, Leroy’s head dropped again. “I — uh — don’t know. We came ta town yesterday. Pa went into the store and when he came out he said — he said–” The boy paused, unable to continue.
“That’s alright, Leroy. Ya don’t have ta tell. It don’t matter none.”
“Bad Leroy Brown — your nothin’ but trouble. Bad luck — that’s what you are,” the boy choked out the words between sobs.
Hoss’ eyes narrowed. “Hey now. Ain’t nobody bad luck, ‘specially not a young fella like you.” Hoss reached out and gave the boy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I tell ya what, how ‘bout we go get ya cleaned up a bit and get us a little somethin’ ta eat, and then ya can come ta my ranch and do some chores fur me?”
Leroy looked up at Hoss with uncertain eyes. “You’d really do that for me?”
“Sure I would. Whatdya say?”
Leroy’s face brightened. He held out his hand to Hoss. “You got yourself a deal, Mr. Cartwright.”
Hoss gave the boy a toothy grin and took Leroy’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Alrighty then, let’s not be wastin’ no more time!” He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and urged him toward the boardwalk.
Later at the local cafe, Hoss chuckled as he watched Leroy plow into his meal. “I like a man with a good appetite. Pretty tasty, ain’t it?”
Leroy nodded with enthusiasm and continued to shovel beef stew into his mouth. Hoss scraped a portion from his own plate onto Leroy’s when he saw that the boy was not slowing up. The big man picked up his coffee and downed what remained in the cup and began thinking about what he was going to do with Leroy Brown.
A few months later, Hoss was sitting at the kitchen table late one evening fiddling with his empty coffee cup while lost in thought. His heart ached for Leroy. He had tried his best to find Leroy’s father. He wanted to talk some sense into what he felt was a sorry excuse for a father, but apparently Mr. Brown did not want to be found. Hoss could not fathom a man abandoning his son. It brought up something from deep within and potentially ugly when he thought on such things. After many long discussions with his own father and then with Leroy, arrangements were made for the boy to live with the Horton family. The Hortons had a daughter of similar age, but had been unable to have more children. Everything pointed to the fact that Leroy would grow up in a caring home. This, however, did little to fill the void Hoss felt or quell the questions he had about his own life and his desire to have a wife and family.
Ben stepped into the kitchen and paused in front of the stove, interrupting Hoss’ thoughts. “Mind if I join you?”
“Uh, oh, sure, Pa.” Hoss gave his father a tentative smile.
Ben poured a cup of coffee and took a seat across the table from his son. “You looked like you were deep in thought.”
“Oh – yeah. Jest thinkin’ on Leroy. Wonderin’ how he’s gettin’ on with the Hortons, that’s all.”
Ben pursed his lips following a sip of his coffee. “Of course. I’m sure he’s doing fine. The Hortons are good people. I believe they will grow to love Leroy and he them.”
“Yeah. S’pose you’re right on that.” Hoss heaved a great sigh. “Jest got real attached ta that little fella.”
Ben’s eyes grew soft. “Yes, hard not to. He is a good boy, despite all he’s been through.”
Hoss could only nod.
Ben continued. “Just wants to please and be loved. Like children do.”
Hoss forced out a husky response. “Yeah.”
They sat together in silence for a time. Though Ben wanted to offer further encouragement to Hoss that he had made the right decision, he also knew that only time would help to heal the wound that his big-hearted son had once more allowed himself to experience. The elder Cartwright rose and placed his hand on the strong shoulder of his middle son and gripped firmly.
“I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”
Hoss barely lifted his head. “Yeah, thanks, Pa.”
As Ben Cartwright leaned back into his chair and sipped his brandy on Christmas Eve staring into the fire, he reflected on what Mary must have felt those hundreds of years ago giving birth to a son in a manger. It was such an awesome responsibility as any child was, but hers was so much more. She must have shuddered not only at facing the physical demands of childbirth but knowing she would nurture Him until she would have to let Him go out into the world to face whatever fate had in store for Him. Ben knew he had it much better in that he had been able to create this home for his sons where they could live their lives, raise their own families, and never have to go out into the unknown and the dangers that were lurking there. Of course, so far, none had started a family, but he had hopes that soon that would change.
Watching Adam stare into that same fire, Ben’s calm contentment slipped away as quickly as thoughts of Mary did. Instead the same kind of fears Mary had carried in her heart were in his because he sensed that his eldest son would soon be leaving too. Oh, he wanted to deny it, and usually he did, but he saw the same signs in his son that he had experienced as a younger man. The longing to see what had not been seen, to do what had not been done, and to find what had not been found were pulling at him. It didn’t matter if others had done those things because he had not and the heart was driving this desire not his mind.
His younger sons were not going to accept this because they had no such pull factors within them. The best and only way he could help his first born was to help clear the way for his departure.
“Did I ever tell you boys about the Christmas I spent in Bermuda?”
When Ben finished his story to the delight of his younger sons, he saw the look in Adam’s eyes that said he understood that his father knew and accepted his decision. The small crooked smile and the slight squeeze of his shoulder when Adam stood and made his way across the room and then up the stairs confirmed it for his father. He had taught his eldest son too well. He was going to lose him. Sadly, he was well aware Christmas was going to be a time for tears in his eyes forevermore.
Ben sat at the table, hands clasped against his mouth. He looked at the breakfast dishes left by his sons to go outside and play in the snow. He laughed at how they got into their coats and ran outside. Though they were grown men, they were acting like children. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out as he thought about Adam, Hoss and Joe. Three boys who were birthed by three wonderful women. They were strong in their own ways which he admired about them. They didn’t take anything from others. They stood firm and strong against hard times. They were wonderful women who have long since left the earth. Ben missed them every day. Christmas was always hard on him. He silently grieved over them during this time. He didn’t want to burden his sons with this. He knew they’d try everything to perk him up. But this was what made him feel better. To remember alone.
Ben’s thoughts again turned to his boys. They were his world. He was grateful for them. His mind wandered to their antics, fights and standing together against others. Ben chuckled to himself as he thought of Joe’s shenanigans and getting his brothers into them. He couldn’t help think of the whole thing with Abigail Jones. They were lucky it ended well with Hank and Abigail. They had fallen in and out of love. Even he had fallen in and out of love. But he still had his family.
Ben looked over at the Christmas tree and the gifts underneath. Though they were all grown men, they acted like children Christmas morning opening their gifts and singing carols as loud as they could. They’d be having their Christmas party with friends and neighbors. Ben looked forward to those parties.
Just then, the door opened and the silence was filled with loud laughter from the boys. Ben quickly wiped any tears that may have formed and smiled at his boys.
“Howdy, Pa,” Hoss greeted.
“Did you boys have fun in the snow?” Ben asked.
“It was fun,” Adam replied.
“Yeah, it was fun for these two. They whitewashed me in the snow. I’m going to get into warm, dry clothes,” Joe grumbled walking upstairs.
Adam and Hoss laughed. Adam then turned to his father and noticed that his eyes were a bit red. “Pa, are you all right?”
“What? Oh yes, I’m fine.”
Hoss then looked at Ben.
“You sure? Your eyes are red.”
“Yes, I was just thinking about your mothers and memories of you boys. I’m just fine,” Ben said, clapping his hands on his boys.
“Listen, I’m gonna follow Joe and get into warm clothes,” Hoss said and went upstairs.
“I will too,” Adam said.
Ben nodded then made the fire bigger to warm up his boys. He smiled as he watched them go upstairs.
Adjustments
Well, this wasn’t the best way to end the year. Do I regret telling my family I’m leaving? Yes and no. I don’t regret my decision to leave and follow a calling I’m not sure I can even define. But, telling my family…well, that was the hardest part. Pa, of course, saw it coming. I guess his father’s instinct let him know I was thinking hard on something. He took it well but I couldn’t ignore the sadness in his eyes. Joe’s another matter. Volatile, mercurial, passionate, his moods run as high as the Sierras and as deep as Lake Tahoe. I wasn’t surprised by his darkening face and single question of ‘why’ before he shot out the door unwilling to wait for my answer. Hoss was pretty quiet but, like Pa, I think he knew this was coming. I’m sure I’ll get some bit of wisdom from him soon. I came out to the barn to clear my head and give my family a chance to absorb the news. Joe’s missing horse tells me that he and I will be talking later. I figure Pa and I will have a fireside chat tonight. The quiet huffing outside tells me Hoss is near, probably trying to get up the courage to share his thoughts on the matter.
Why is it so hard for me to go an’ talk to Adam? Dadgumit, what do I say? I saw it comin’ for quite a while, but I couldn’t say nothin’ then since he wasn’t ready to talk about it. He’s always had the wanderlust in him. Me, I reckon I’ll never leave the Ponderosa, my roots run too deep, but Adam, yeah, it’s time. He needs to go. I hope he’ll be happy, but I also hope he’ll come home. Don’t reckon I know what it’d do to Pa and Joe, an’ yeah, me too, ifn he didn’t come home. Well, reckon I’ve kicked the dirt around long enough. I best go find out what my brother’s really thinkin’ on doing with his life.
Why? That’s not a hard question to answer. I didn’t stick around for the answer ‘cause I knew the answer – he wants to see different places, he wants to build things, he…what? What else does he want to do? Adam’s always been good at saying a lot and not saying much at all. And I just know there’s something he’s left out. Why not tell us all of it? Well, there’s that question again. Why? What? Oh, Cooch, my head is really spinning with the shock of him leaving and all these questions. Why am I so upset and what am I going to do about it? Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to knock me over. Come on, boy. Let’s go back and find him so I can get these crazy questions out of my head.
My son is leaving. What will I do without him? Through the years he’s the one that’s been my right hand. When we struggled to cross the country, when grief darkened my life, when illness threatened, my stalwart son never let me give up. His years of travel, his education, building this ranch have given him wanderlust and desires for new experiences. We share a bond that goes back to his birth. Abel allowed me to follow my dream. I can’t be selfish and not do the same for Adam. The eagle soaring above me is a symbol of freedom. Like the eagle Adam needs to be free. I’ve got to let him go. Dear God, please bring him back home…someday.
