“Ben…Benjamin, wake up.” The soft voice called him out of his slumber with a jolt. Peering about wildly, he finally caught sight of the voice’s owner and his jaw nearly hit the floor in disbelief.

“Marie? W-what’s going on….” She stood at the foot of his bed, glowing in the soft moonlight like an angel, her smile both joyous and sad at the same time.

”It’s time, Love.” He rubbed his eyes trying to dispel the dream—for it had to be a dream—but when he looked up she was still there as lifelike as she had been all those years ago.

“This can’t be happening…you…you’re–”

“Dead?” She finished his statement for him.

“Yes I am, dear one, but I am here now for a different reason.”

“What? I don’t understan–”

“Joe needs you, Ben. It’s time.” And then like a thunderbolt, understanding flooded through him along with a profound wave of grief.

“No, it…he can’t…he’s so young, Marie, please, not now!” She walked towards him and then lightly put her hand on his shoulder; her eyes were full of un-shed tears.

“I know he is, but this is not my choice to make; believe me, Ben, I want what’s best for our child just as much as you do. No, I’ve been sent so that you may have a chance to say goodbye before it is too late.” Leaning forward, she lightly pressed her lips to his cheek before holding out her hand to him. For a long moment he stared at her tiny white hand, praying that he would wake up soon and this would all be some horrible dream, but he did not. He sighed heavily and then took her hand in his, trembling slightly as their fingers met. Marie gave him a patient smile as he slid from the sheets and padded out of his chamber and down the hallway to the last bedroom on the left. He hesitated for a second, shying away from the door, but then he slowly opened the barrier and walked towards the bed where his son lay sleeping.

“Oh, he’s so beautiful.” She murmured as she gazed lovingly down on the boy. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the emaciated body of his youngest. It had been three weeks since the fever had come, wracking his frame with terrible pain, flooding his skin with scorching heat and violent chills. At first, Dr. Paul Martin hoped it might just be a cold, but soon his unspoken fears proved to be all too true. Little Joe had malaria. He had tried everything he could think of to cure his patient, but the physician was at a loss when nothing seemed to work. Paul had placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, unsure how to tell him that there was nothing to be done, but Ben seemed to be able to read his mind.

“How much longer?” The older man said, turning his face towards the living-room wall. The doctor slipped into his professional persona.

“Not long. He ought to pass sometime during the next couple of days; if things change, send for me and I’ll check him over again.” He paused for a moment before pressing on, dropping back into his caring normal voice.

“Ben, if you want me to, I can speak to Adam and Hoss and tell them–”

“No, Paul, they are my sons, I’ll tell them about…about.” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Very well.” The door closed behind the doctor with hardly a sound, leaving the broken father to his grief.

“Ben?” Marie’s call pulled him out of his revery.

“Look at him.” It seemed like an eternity before he did so; Joe lay on his back, the shallow breaths he took seemed to fill the room with the agonized rasping.

“He looks so much like you, Marie, thank you…thank you for your-our son.” Tears spilled down his face and he sank down into the chair that he had sat in for so long over the past eighteen years of his child’s life. He had sat in that very chair through Joe’s childhood illnesses, injuries, broken bones, he had ever been there on nights when the boy’s sleep had been shattered with dreadful nightmares. Now as he sat there, Ben suddenly in his heart he knew this would be the last time and he felt old, the weight of his sorrow bowing his shoulders.

“He loves you very much, much more than you know.” She said, taking another step closer to the small table next to the bed. She picked something up off of the rough wood surface and placed the item in his lap.

“Read it to him, Ben, please.” She turned the lamp on so he could see what she had given him. It was Joe’s old Bible and the sight of it nearly sent him over the edge, but he somehow held on and pressed himself through the well of swirling emotions. He thumbed through the pages before coming to rest at Psalm 121, Joe’s favorite. Slowly he began to read the words aloud and they strangely comforted him.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved : he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

As the final word rolled off of his tongue, he bent forward, his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Oh God, please, please, not Joe. Ever since I was a child, I’ve followed you faithfully, even when you took my wives from me I followed you. But please, don’t take my son, I love him so much and I can’t think of living without him. I know you know everything that’s best for both me and Joseph, show me the way through this.” He paused, trying to steady the hitch in his breathing before continuing on.

“I am proud, Lord, and I’m sorry if I have acted out against you; you’ve been more than patient with me through all of this. Please…please, I beg of you, be patient with me one more time; spare my child. But if that isn’t your will, Father, then take him. Your will be done, amen.” He felt peace wash over him in waves.

“It’s time, Ben.” Marie placed a tender hand on his back, gently rubbing across his shoulders. She reached forward to touch the still figure, but her husband’s voice stopped her short.

“Promise me you won’t leave him?” He held her gaze, pleading with her to answer him. A kind smile spread across her lovely features.

“I won’t leave him, I never will.” And with that she leaned over and lightly kissed Joe on the forehead.

“It is time, my angel.” The boy stirred briefly before opening his eyes and staring at the beloved woman in front of him.

“Mama.”

“Yes, Joseph, we’re going home.” His familiar grin lit up his face and then he turned towards the figure in the chair.

“Pa, I love you…goodbye.”

“I love you too, Son; I’ll see you soon.”

“Come, Joseph.” Marie held out her hand to Joe just as she had earlier to her husband. There was a brilliant flash of light…and then they were gone leaving only the still body of the youngest Cartwright lying on his bed. Ben felt the tears flowing freely down his face, but he no longer cared. His heart was broken by the passing of his son, but he finally knew deep down inside that Joe was really and truly safe in the arms of his mother and his heavenly Father. And as he sat there gazing at nothing, the sun rose and flooded through the open window, bringing with it the echo of birdsong and the joy of a new day.

~The End