Chapter 7

How long l remained on my knees, shivering in despair l have no idea, l didn’t hear her knock or enter the room, till a hand at my elbow was assisting me to stand, she handed me a glass of water then guided me into a cabinet full of steam and hot water, l do remember her waiting until, though, l was standing hands pressed against the wall, l could support my own weight, l also vaguely remember her handing me a green bottle telling me to rub the contents into my limbs that it would do me good, and it did, my muscles relaxed, the combination of the steam and hot water cascaded my body with warmth, at first as the familiar odour of pine filled the cabinet, tears mixed with water streamed down my face, strangely by the time l had rubbed my body dry and wrapped myself in a towel l felt more than refreshed, l felt determined, and more than just determined, l had made up my mind l would do whatever l had to do to find my way home, whatever it took, l would have no hesitation in carrying out, to achieve that one purpose to get back to the Ponderosa and my family

“How you doing in there?” a disembodied voice questioned.

“Fine,” even to my ears my voice sounded less than confident, “l’m fine,” l repeated with l hoped more fervour.

Betty neatly sidestepped from my path, leaving the bathhouse l nearly collided with her standing as she was was on the thresh hold of the room and hall, her concern puckered small furrows between her brows, gently she laid a small hand on my arm and asked if l was sure, l nodded, wait she told me as she ducked in and out of the room l had just vacated, explaining that she didn’t want me to catch cold, l wasn’t feeling cold in fact the opposite, nevertheless l did as she asked and thrust my arms into the sleeves of the white robe she held open in front of her.

Following Betty into the kitchen, l hadn’t realised that the room sort of turned a corner and opened out into a cosy area with easy chairs and other stuff, most of which l didn’t recognise, she sat on one of the two big cushions that took up part of the floor, next to a glass topped table on which was placed two small, half filled glasses, a stubby round bottle of brandy, a mug of something hot, and the also the faded picture, l didn’t feel, just at that moment as if l could look at those faces.

l flopped down on the remaining, surprisingly comfortable cushion and rested my back against the wall, she handed me a glass, then raised the other one to her lips, l did the same, the fiery liquid scorched my throat, l coughed politely into my hand and allowed the heat to soothe it’s way into my unsettled stomach.

“Cowboy,” she placed the empty glass on the table, “l think we got some talking to do, l sipped at the remaining fluid in my glass, “knock that back and drink the tea,” she was at it again with the orders,

“l don’t like tea,” l countered but did as she asked and finished the brandy in one gulp.

“l didn’t tell you to like it l told you to drink it, “ she softened her attack, “it will make you feel better…l promise,”

Taking a sniff l wrinkled my nose, the brew smelled honey sweet, and very much like one of Hop Sings strange concoctions, she kept a firm watch on me until l took a mouthful, it had an unusual flavour but what the heck l thought aint everything unusual anyway, be it the pine scented shower, the brandy, this aromatic drink or the mix of the three but l did find myself more at ease.

“So where do we start?” she asked, l shrugged

“You tell me?”

“OK, l will, first l am going to ask you some questions, they may seem stupid or ridiculous but just answer them as best you can, you OK with that?”

“Sure,”

“What is today’s date, don’t look at me like that just answer?”

“October 3rd,”

“Year?”

“1862”

“Where do you think you are?”

My look of complete unawareness prompted her to change the ‘are’ to ‘were’

“The Ponderosa,” a raised eyebrow prompted me further, “Nevada.”

“When did you last see the four men in the picture?”

“This morning at breakfast,”

“What makes you think you are Joe Cartwright?”

The last question l had no idea how to answer, how could l, l don’t think l am Joe Cartwright l know l am Joe Cartwright, l decided to turn the tables and toss the question back,

“l know l am, what makes you think l am not?”

“Touche, but l may well have a answer for you that will not be to your liking.”

She then proceeded to tell me that although the date was in fact correct the year was 2013, we were in Los Angeles, California…hesitating but having to know, ‘and the four men?’ l asked, she explained that the picture of her Great Aunt Betty Endicott and the four men, all actors was taken sometime in early 1963, she wasn’t sure of the exact date…but how? l queried…they are my brothers and Pa…myself, l know we aint never seen that woman, that can’t be so, l argued, l could feel my previous mix of hysteria and despair starting to rise to the surface…she remained calm, which didn’t really help, these four actors, she reeled off their names, don’t ask me what they were, they were just playing, she said, just playing the part of this made up Cartwright family…

“They weren’t made up”l shouted “they are real, l am real, can’t you see l am real, this morning Hoss ate six pancakes, four eggs, four slices of ham and then finished what l had left on my plate, Hop Sing chased him out of the kitchen when he went in begging for hot biscuits, l argued with Adam that l could be trusted to go into town collect the mail and be back before dark, ‘not without a keeper,’ he said, l was gonna punch him in the mouth, Pa told us to quit it and save our energy for our chores, these things all happened…,” she allowed me to rant on, her silence and control crept under my skin tightening it like a rash of poison ivy, “it all happened…” l stopped before my voice cracked and l broke down completely, thoughts were stampeding around my head, pushing and bumping into one another, she opened her mouth to speak which set me off again..

“How come we look the same? l mean alike, if we are made up, how come we look the same as them actors? answer me, you tell me that?…tell me that?…you can’t can you, you can’t?”

She silenced me with an emphatic “No”, no she couldn’t account for that, but she did have one explanation, plausible or not, but that it was the only thing she could think of, if l could just calm down for a minute and listen, she was not the enemy or the cause, in fact she was going to do everything she could to help me.

Of course l knew she wasn’t the cause, it had nothing to do with her, but l had no other target, no tree stump to kick, immediately l felt remorse, sorry for my outburst, as per usual letting my feelings run amok, taking a deep breath, shame faced l apologised and sheepishly waited for her to continue.

After she finished, even with her drawing a large clock face with numbers from one to twenty four, and each number representing not hours and minutes, but years, each number a hundred years and that l had been somehow propelled from 1862 to 2013, l had passed through an invisible corridor or portal, a door from one time dimension to another…to say l was silenced was without doubt an understatement, l reckoned even Adam Cartwright would have trouble comprehending what Betty was asking me not just to visualize and believe, but telling me that l had experienced…on the plus side she had added as l had been propelled forward there was every chance and possibility that the propulsion could be put into reverse, l stared blankly at the drawing of the clock, at the faded picture of the five smiling faces, then into Betty’s resolute and unflinching tawny eyes, there was no way l could doubt her self belief.