Summary:  Joe finds a litter of kittens who, unbeknownst to them, help him understand Marie’s death.

Rated: K+ (1,120 words)

                                                                                      Kittens in the Hayloft

Ben Cartwright sat in his favorite arm chair reminiscing. Today was Marie’s birthday. His youngest son drank his coffee silently, obviously remembering too. “Hey, Pa?” he set down the empty cup. “Huh? Did you say something?” Joe smiled at his father, “You were thinking about her, weren’t you? So was I…do you remember that time in the barn with the new kittens?” Ben stared into the glowing embers of the once roaring fire. How could he forget it?

Joe had heard the mewing long before he found the kittens. They were nestled in a little hollow in the hay. One was all black, the biggest was a red-brown color, the smallest was black and white, and the last was a dark brown and white. He picked up the little one, wondering at how tiny his claws were. The kittens’ eyes were still shut. They couldn’t be more than a few days old. “What do you have there, son?” a tall, man knelt beside the boy. His chocolate brown hair was streaked with gray and his almost black eyes shone at his youngest. “Just some kittens, Pa. Ain’t got no mama,” he stroked the soft fur of the red one. “You sure?” the older man knew that the mama cat would be back soon. Joe bit his bottom lip, “Well, the mama ain’t no where ‘round. Maybe she ‘bandoned ‘em.” “Maybe, son, maybe. Why don’t we just wait and see, hmm?” Ben picked up the six-year-old. “Yes sir.”

A week later, Joe went into the hayloft to find his kittens: Blackie, Red, Paint, and Coffee. He found them right where he left them, except the mama cat was with them. The kittens purred as they suckled on their mother’s sweet milk. She was purring herself, looking at her kittens through slanted eyes. Her tortoiseshell coat shone in the sunlight. Coffee finished quickly and yawned as he drifted of to sleep. Calico (Joe dubbed her then and there) licked him and his brothers clean. Joe patted her head, “You’re a good mama, Cali. I’ll take care of your kittens, you wait and see.” She responded by nuzzling his hand with a white cheek. He giggled and petted her some more. “Joseph? Joseph, Where are you?” Ben had looked all around the barn. “Up here, Pa!” a small voice that Ben could recognize anywhere called down from the hayloft. He climbed up the ladder and sat beside his son. “See? I told you the cat would be back,” he picked up the red one. “That’s Red, Pa. The black one is Blackie, the brown and white one is Coffee and the black and white one is Paint,” he took Coffee from his mother and rubbed his velvety fur. “Those are some good names, son. They’ll make good mousers when they grow up,” the older man tickled Red’s tummy. “Pa?” Joe suddenly set the kitten down. “Yes, Joe?” Ben did the same with Red. “Cali’s a good mama, ain’t she?” he looked into his father’s dark, dark eyes. Ben smiled, “Isn’t, Joe. Yea, I suppose she is. Why?” Joe turned away and looked at Calico. “And my mama was a good mama too, wasn’t she?” he continued. “Yes, son. Your mother was the best mother anybody could want. Just ask Hoss or…,” his thought immediately of his eldest son, Adam, who was in his sophomore year at Harvard in Boston. He blocked out those reoccurring memories and placed a hand on his son’s skinny knee. “Then why did she have to leave, Pa?” his small question pricked Ben’s slowly softening heart. He thought for a while, then pulled his littlest boy to his chest. “Because God willed it. Your mother was a truly beautiful and wonderful person. I don’t know why, but God called her back. But I do know in my heart that one day we’ll get to see her in Heaven, my Joseph. Cling to that, and you won’t have to worry,” he cried inside for his youngest. It had only been a year and a few months since his Marie died. Life was getting back to normal, but they all missed the bright woman missing in their lives. “I didn’t want her to leave, Papa! Why couldn’t she stay with us?” Joe shed big, rolling tears that kept coming. “I don’t know son, but I do know this: she wouldn’t want us to carry on like this. Just after Adam’s mother passed away, I found a slip of paper in her Bible:

 Remember me with smiles and laughter, for that is how I will remember you all. If you can only remember me with tears, then don’t remember me at all.

Joe stopped crying long enough to hear his father’s words. “I know Pa, but it’s real hard not to miss her,” he sniffed. “It’s not bad to miss her, Little Joe, but don’t carry her around with you. Keep a soft spot in your heart for her, son, and know that she is looking down on you. She would want us to remember the good times. Do you understand?” he lifted Joe’s chin to meet his face. “Yes sir, I think I do.” Calico rubbed her cheek against his hand again to get some more rubbing. The boy giggled in spite of his tears. “Come on now. Hoss will be needing some help eating all that good food Hop Sing made for lunch,” he tousled Joe’s dark brown curly hair and led the way down the ladder. Father and son walked back to the house hand in hand with some salty tears still streaming down their faces. Ben stopped to pick up his young son. Joe rested his head on his father’s shoulder as they tried to remember the happy times with Marie.

“I’ve written that poem down so many times…whenever I missed her, it would always lift the burden, though mostly only it only eased the pain a little,” the boy’s vision blurred as he touched the beautiful face of his long-dead mother. The photograph was old and weathered, but it was his greatest treasure. Ben leaned over to put his hand on his son’s knee, like that day in the loft. He sighed and quoted her one last time. Joe smiled, “Happy birthday, Mama.” The candle in the center of the low table was burning steadily, like Marie was there with them.

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