Summary: Little Joe relives what he believes was one moment in time when he was in between life and death and explains what made him come back. Inspired by the episode, “Bushwhacked!”. Rating T, WC 10,002

One Moment in Time

*** I broke my heart, fought every gain.  To taste the sweet, I face the pain.  I rise and fall yet through it all, this much remains.  I want one moment in time when I’m more than I thought I could be.  When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away.  And the answers are all up to me.  Give me one moment in time when I’m racing with destiny.  Then in that one moment of time I will feel, I will feel, eternity.  (Song: One Moment in Time, lyrics by John Bettis.) ***

*** One shirt, one pair of pants and one green corduroy jacket.  All with holes in them caused by bullets. *** I thought to myself as I began to sort through everything that was left inside of the buckboard.  I wasn’t sure if Hop Sing would be able to make the necessary repairs in the jacket, which was Joseph’s favorite of course.  The shirt and pants were going straight into the trash barrel, but the verdict was still out on that jacket.  There’s just no way that I’ll allow these torn clothes to be saved to be used as rags, not with my boy’s blood on them!  I moved my attention down to the rest of the gear we’d taken with us.  Hoss had offered to unload the wagon, but I needed some time to think.  The trip we had just taken had been a long one and I wanted to feel useful as I tried to put things into some kind of order; at least in my mind.

I’d gotten that wire almost two weeks ago now and it had said the kinds of things that no parent wants to read.  Joseph had been shot and the man who had found the boy had sent word that he was in grave condition.  Hoss and I swung right into action and were on our horses and heading to Lone Pine less than an hour after Smokey handed the telegram to me.  I knew if we rode hard, we could make it to the ranch where Joe was being cared for in about two days.  That had been a rough forty-eight hours for both Hoss and me.  I worried that we might not make it to Joseph in time.  Time.  It’s funny how you just take time for granted, like you have an endless supply of it.  But you never do.  I felt such an urgency to get to my son, but during those two frightful days it was as though time itself had stopped much like a broken clock.  In fact, it seemed like it was taking an eternity to get there.  I couldn’t help worrying that I might lose Joseph without ever being able to say goodbye to him.  Not that I could have said goodbye to him; not ever!

I had sent my son to Fort Churchill just ten miles due north of Lone Pine.  It had been a simple transaction involving selling remounts to the army.  Afterwards Joe was heading home with a billfold full of cash.  I’d suspected that some highwayman had shot my son and run off with the money leaving the boy lying out in the desert presuming he was dead.  But that wasn’t the case.  No one understood why anyone would’ve shot my son twice and left him to die and yet hadn’t taken the money with them.  Even Sheriff Truslow, the not so helpful lawman there, hadn’t been able to figure that one out.  But Joseph had.  Though he’d been delirious for days, he had continually muttered those words, “wagon wheel and teepee.”  At the time no one knew that the boy had been giving us the only clue we’d need to find out who had shot him all along.  Joe had come upon two men with running irons.  They had been changing the brands from Griswold’s “teepee” to their “wagon wheel” and thus had stolen quite a few head of cattle.  Once they realized that my son had them dead to rights, they pursued him and fired those two bullets which had almost killed him.  I was glad that they were both locked up now or I might have done something with them myself!

I’ll forever be grateful to Tom Griswold for finding my boy and for being a good Samaritan.  Both he and his ranch hand named Ern had taken Joe via a travois to their ranch, no doubt saving his life.   If they hadn’t heard the couple of reports that Joe’s Colt had gotten off as a last-ditch effort to signal for help, I’d never have known Joseph’s fate.

“Pa?” Hoss called over to his father as he walked out to the front hitching post where he had left the buckboard.

Turning around I forced the glum look off my face for my middle boy’s sake.  “Yes?”

“Hop Sing and I got Little Joe out of that shirt of yours and put him in bed.”

In the rush to get on our way I had forgotten to pack my youngest a shirt but fortunately I did remember to bring the pants that Joe needed.  For the last several days my son had worn the extra shirt I had packed for myself.  It hung on him but with that back wound the boy didn’t need anything form-fitting disturbing the bandages that Doctor Scully had placed over the incision he’d made.  “Oh?  Did your brother put up much of a fuss?”

Hoss chuckled and shook his head, “No – not this time.  We got him into a nightshirt and he was out cold the minute he leaned back on his pillows.”

“I figured that would happen.  Joe talks a good game, but I think we both know that he’s got a lot of healing to do and he’s just plum worn out. Oh, by the way, I sent Fletcher into town to bring Doc back with him.”

“Doc ain’t gonna like it that another doctor worked on my little brother,” Hoss grinned knowingly and reached inside the wagon.  “I’ll bring the rest of this stuff inside, Pa.  Why don’t you go sit down?  I know you’ve got to be tired.”

“Just WHO made you such a mother hen all of a sudden?”

Hoss turned pensive for a couple of seconds before smiling at his father.  “Now – let me see – I guess it was the same man who covered me up with that blanket out on the trail last night.”

Ben shook his head; he was guilty as charged and he knew it.  “Point taken,” He nodded.  “Alright, Young Man, I gladly surrender the rest of these things to your care.  I already stowed my and your brother’s saddles inside the barn and saw to the three horses.”

Hoss watched as his father began to walk away.  He called after him, “Pa?  What do you want me to do with these?” He held up his brother’s torn clothes that had been left inside the bed of the buckboard.

Ben hurried back to his son and removed Joe’s clothes from his hands.  “I’ll take care of it, Hoss.”  He turned around and headed into the ranch house, holding his son’s shirt, pants, and jacket far out in front of him as though they carried pestilence. ***Everything is going straight into that trash barrel.  I’ll buy Joseph a new jacket.  I’m sure that new tailor in town, Jim Weems, can make him another one.  As long as it’s green, his favorite color, I’m sure Joe won’t mind.  Even if Hop Sing could repair the bullet hole, I’d always remember the blood that I saw all over it.  No, I’m getting rid of the thing right now! *** He swore to himself as he crossed the threshold.

Doctor Paul Martin didn’t arrive until after eight o’clock that night.  He’d spent the whole day tending to folks and looked as though it had all caught up with him.  But there was no way that he was going back to Virginia City, after having been over to three other ranches that day, without seeing his favorite and most frequent patient.  After a few pleasantries had been passed around Paul had fussed at Joe for getting hurt again before he began to inspect the other doctor’s handiwork.

Doc first examined Joe’s leg wound, adding some ointment to the area after cleaning it well.  He then turned his full attention to the incision on Joe’s back.  He spied the tell-tale signs of infection on either side of where the sutures had been placed.  However, Paul had already noticed the anxious appearance on Ben’s face and didn’t want to alarm him.  He cleaned around the wound and then dabbed some of the same ointment all around the incision.  Finishing his ministrations, he placed a new bandage over it.

“Joe, you can roll over now so I can take your temperature,” Paul instructed.

Obliging the doctor, Joe rolled onto his back and smiled up at the man.  “Doc, I’m feeling just fine,” he began to protest only to have a thermometer stuffed inside his mouth.

 That boy thinks I’m buying what he’s selling! *** Ben thought to himself while letting out a tired sigh.  Two bullet holes in him and he’s lying there insisting he’s “just fine”!  Joseph, you are single-handedly making me old! ***

“That ought to give us a few minutes of peace now, Ben,” Paul chuckled and turned back towards his friend.

Attempting to get a good look at Doc’s face to see if he was keeping something from him, Ben played along.  “That’ll be nice – how about leaving that thing with me for when I need some quiet around here?”

Joe groaned and shook his head over what both men had just said.  A few minutes later the doctor pulled the thermometer out from between his patient’s lips and studied the reading.

“You’ll live,” Paul announced drolly and patted Joe’s arm.  He shook the thermometer down and cleaned it off, placing it back inside his medical bag.

“How long did it take you to get home from Lone Pine, Ben?”

Ben’s expectant gaze was divided between the doctor and his youngest son.  He was already wondering what the man had seen upon checking the two bullet wounds.  “It took us three full days, Paul.”

Joe hadn’t missed the urgency in Pa’s response and piped up.  “You’d better tell Pa that I’m okay, Doc, because he’s got that same old worried expression on his face.”

“You just be still, Young Man,” Ben countered sternly and then focused in on Paul.

Doc sighed wearily and sat down in the chair next to the bed.  “I’d say that Doctor Scully did a good job on those wounds – but – Joe’s got a smidgeon of infection near the incision in his back.”

Ben stared at his youngest and wondered why he had listened to him when he had insisted that he was well enough to go home.  “I told you we should’ve stayed at the Griswold’s for a couple more days!” Ben fussed and drew closer to the bed.  “Is it serious, Paul?”

“No – I don’t think so.  I’ve got some medicine I’ll leave with you that should help.  I cleaned both areas pretty well,” he tried to reassure the worried father before him.  “I want Joe to stay in bed.  He doesn’t need to be up anyway because of that leg – not to mention his back wound.  Keep him down,” Paul instructed and pulled a small brown bottle out of his bag.  “Give him a teaspoon of this three times a day with his meals.”

Reaching for the bottle, Ben looked at the label before setting the medicine on the nightstand.  “Anything else we need to do?” he asked, his voice deepening with the exact same strain he had carried for two straight weeks.  In his mind a smidgeon of infection, as Doc had called it, could mean that he might lose his youngest.  Having witnessed his son’s heart stop beating once before, Ben was gripped by a daily terror that it just might happen again.

Doc smiled to alleviate his friend’s concern.  He knew Ben Cartwright well enough to know that he’d get himself all worked up and wouldn’t be able to sleep if he was afraid of losing that rambunctious youngest son of his.  “Yes – keep this boy out of trouble, will you?”

Joe’s quirky laughter resounded in the room as he watched his father shaking his head filled with exasperation.

“Lord knows I’ve tried,” Ben sighed, finally letting out the breath he had held ever since Paul had said the word infection.  “He finds trouble everywhere he goes.  I suppose I should’ve sent Hoss to Fort Churchill and not this young man.”

Paul stood from his chair and patted the man’s arm fondly.  “Now, Ben, we both know that Little Joe would still get hurt even if he was confined to the Ponderosa.  It’s just his nature.” He argued and then directed his gaze over to his patient.  “Don’t let me find out that you’ve gotten out of this bed!”

“Yes, Sir,” Joe nodded with an impish grin on his face.

Taking note of his patient’s apparent amusement, Doc pointed over at him, “He’s just got to try and rile me, doesn’t he?”  Paul shook his head as he looked back and forth between his patient and the worried father.  In his opinion Little Joe wasn’t taking his injuries seriously and Ben was just the opposite.  He could tell that the man was downright scared over the prospect that his son had some infection in his incision.

“Don’t worry, Paul, I’ll keep him down,” Ben assured and watched as the man lifted his medical bag off the nightstand.  “I’m going to see Doc to his surrey, Joseph.  Now you stay put!” He glared at his son, pointing his finger over at him to show that he meant business.

Joe settled back against his pillows and groaned.  “Geesh, I never said I was gonna try and get up!  You both should know that I always listen to reason.” He complained, feigning innocence.

Paul grinned over at his patient and dropped a hand down to his shoulder.  “Of course you’ve always done exactly as instructed,” He quipped and then turned for the door.  “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.  Behave yourself, Little Joe.”

“I will.  Thanks, Doc,” Joe nodded obediently as he watched both Pa and the doctor turning out of his room.

“So, will the boy be okay?” Ben couldn’t hide his worry, keeping pace with the doctor as they descended the stairs.

“I expect so – though he does have that little bit of infection going on there in his back.  The wound to his leg appears to be healing nicely.  Let’s just see if that medicine will help.  That boy sure went through the mill, didn’t he?  It looks like Doctor Scully made a rather deep incision in Joe’s back.”

When the two men made it down into the living room Ben paused before answering.

“What is it, Ben?”  Paul knew that his friend had something to tell him, but it appeared as though he was having a hard time finding the right words.

Trying to rub the stiffness out of his neck which Ben presumed had to be due to the stress he’d been under ever since seeing his son and his wounds, he chose his words carefully.  “I haven’t said a word to Joseph about it – but we almost lost him, Paul.”

“What?” Doc returned, surprised by what Ben had proffered.  “Did Doctor Scully have trouble getting those bullets out?”

“No – not exactly.  He had to dig the one out of Joe’s leg, but he told me that it came to a rest against a bone.  But the slug in his back required some maneuvering to get to.  He wasn’t sure how far it had entered until he began his probe.  Without you being around I was just glad that we’d found a doctor to tend the boy.  From the credentials he quoted me, he was a very well qualified field surgeon during the war.”

“Then I don’t understand.  Was there a lot of infection in that back wound?’

Ben nodded, “Joe’s fever was very high for quite a while due to that gunshot and all the infection the surgeon found in the wound.  That’s why he believed he had to operate when he did or he was afraid that we’d end up losing Joe.”

“What happened?”

“Not long after he’d administered the ether and began to operate– well – Joseph’s heart just stopped.  Doctor Scully thought that the boy had died and sent for me.  I was just outside on the porch waiting, and Hoss was out trying to track down whoever had shot his brother.”

“Oh, my Lord – that’s awful.  How long … how long did Joe go without a heartbeat?” Paul asked.  Stepping in to offer moral support, he placed a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder.  He could easily imagine the devastating heartache Ben had experienced thinking that his youngest was dead.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the haunting memory, he whispered, “Almost two full minutes.  I barely made it to Joe’s bedside.  I placed my hand on his shoulder and pleaded with him to come back to me.  A few agonizing seconds passed, and then we heard a sudden, loud gasp.  And just like that … he was back.

Paul shook his head, a cold chill running down his spine.  “That sounds incredibly frightening for you, Ben.  I don’t know how you held it together.”

Ben let out a heavy sigh, nodding slowly, “I was hesitant to let the doctor go back after that bullet, but he insisted that it had to come out or we would lose him.  I think that was the longest hour of my life, Paul.”

Pulling on his cloak, Doc didn’t speak for a couple of minutes.  He had felt a chill coming over him just thinking about what life would have been like for his friend if he had lost his youngest son.  Paul knew that Joe’s death would’ve destroyed the man before him.

“So, you’ve not mentioned any of this to Joe?”

Ben shook his head, “No, I didn’t feel the need to.  But I did tell Hoss.  I guess that’s why we’ve both been a bit on edge ever since that day.”

Doc wanted to try and reassure the anxious father.  He opened the door and looked back over at him.  “I think that was a good decision on your part.  No need to tell the boy what happened to him.”

Coughing into his fist to relieve his pent-up fear regarding his son’s condition, he asked. “Is there anything else I should or shouldn’t do for Joseph?”

“The boy’s fever isn’t too high.  I think that medicine will help with the infection and bring down his temperature too.  As for tending to him – well — I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to have a bath just yet.  I’d like that wound in his back to stay clean and dry for now so keep that bandage on him.  Just have him sponge off.  Get some good food into Joe so he’ll regain his strength.  Oh – and you make sure to keep him in bed even if you’ve got to hogtie him!”

Ben laughed over the way Paul knew his son far too well and how Joe had never stayed in bed even when forced to do so.  But that stopped now as far as his father was concerned.  The stakes were too high after what had happened in Lone Pine.  Ben gave a quick nod as he replied with stern resolve, “I can promise you I’ll do just that if he tries to get up!”

“Now you go get yourself some rest, Ben.  I don’t need any more patients!  I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.  But if you need me sooner just send someone to fetch me.”

“Thank you for coming out so late, Paul.  I know you’ve had a long day – so well –”

Cutting his friend off in midsentence, Doc smiled and nodded to him.  “I’m used to it by now.  Go get some sleep.  Goodnight, Ben.”

“Goodnight, Paul,” he responded gratefully and gave the man a quick pat to his back.  Ben stood in the doorway as he watched the doctor heading to his surrey.

After eating a late supper Ben and Hoss took turns keeping an eye on Joe before they both cleaned up a bit and settled into their beds to get some shuteye.  Joe hadn’t stayed up long either, being a bit played out after the long trip home.  His father had given him the medicine Doc had left along with his supper, and it wasn’t long afterwards that he fell off to sleep.

“Hoss?” Ben whispered as he entered Joe’s bedroom carrying a lamp in front of him.  He neared his middle boy who was just standing next to the bed staring down at his little brother.  “It’s after two, what are you doing up?”

Hoss made a quick motion with his hand, wiping away a few tears before turning around to look at his father.  “Nothing, Pa – I just woke up and thought I’d check on him one more time.”

With a knowing grin on his lips, Ben touched Hoss’ arm and responded quietly, “I know – it’s still bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Pa,” He confessed and drew in a quick breath attempting to set aside his worry over his brother and all that had happened to him.   “I keep seeing that fellow trying to suffocate Little Joe with that pillow.”

“I know, Son,” Ben sighed as he leaned down towards his youngest.  He lightly settled the palm of his right hand on Joe’s forehead to detect if his fever had eased up.  He wasn’t any warmer, but the fever was still present.  “Thank the good Lord that you got inside that room in time to toss that criminal through Griswold’s window.”

Hoss shook his head and replied sullenly, “I shouldn’t have left him, Pa – if he had been killed it would’ve been all my fault.”

“Now, Hoss,” Ben paused and searched his son’s face.  He could read the worry and regret all over it.  “You had no way of knowing that they’d set that fire just to draw you out of the house.  If I had been there in that bedroom, I would’ve done the same thing that you did.”

Reaching down, Hoss gently eased his brother’s blanket up around his shoulders before replying.  “Yeah – I guess.  But we almost lost him, Pa – and more than once this time!  First, they shot Joe twice and left him for dead and then they set fire to the Griswold’s outbuilding to lure me outside so they could sneak in and kill him.”

Ben shook his head listening to his son’s rendition of what had happened to his little brother.  “I know it’s not much consolation – but those two men will be serving hard time in prison for the next ten years for both cattle rustling and attempted murder, Son.”

Hoss frowned and looked over at his father, “Pa – I just can’t let go of it – it’s got me shook.”

Placing a hand on his middle boy’s shoulder, Ben nodded to him.  “I guess I shouldn’t have told you that your brother’s heart stopped beating during that surgery.”

“No, Pa — I’m glad that you did.  A little while ago before you walked in here, I was wondering what my life would be like without my little brother.  I just couldn’t get it out of my head, you know?”

Ben stared down at his youngest and then back over to Hoss.  “I know,” he returned his voice thick with emotion and in a way that let his son know that he’d been asking himself that same question ever since he’d almost lost his youngest.  Hoss could easily detect the kind of sorrow that hadn’t let go of his father just thinking about the fact that for all intents and purposes Little Joe had died the day he’d had surgery.

“Let’s let the boy sleep, Hoss.  C’mon, go back to bed,” He coaxed and watched as his son moved over to the bedroom door.

“You coming, Pa?”

Ben nodded, “I’ll be right out.”

Hoss knew that his father needed a little time alone with Joe and wasn’t going to ask any more questions.  “See you in the morning,” he whispered and walked out into the hall.

Gently easing down on the side of the bed, Ben reached over and placed the palm of his right hand onto his son’s cheek.  “Oh, Joseph,” He began trying his best not to awaken him.  “You scared both your brother – and your father this time.  If I had lost you –,” Ben had to stop himself due to the tears that were welling up in his eyes.  The thought of losing his youngest was still just as fresh in his mind as it had been the day Doctor Scully had yelled for him to hurry to the boy’s bedside.  Ben would never forget seeing Joe lying there looking so lifeless.  He had heard the doctor’s words *** I’m sorry but we’ve lost him, Mister Cartwright. Those words had just about stopped his own heart too.  Joseph, you can make it!  Come back to me, son! *** he had pleaded as he leaned over his son. Ben remembered saying those same words to Marie, Joe’s mother, right after she had taken that fall just outside of the ranch house.  He begged her to come back only to lose her forever.  Ben couldn’t believe he had lost their son without him ever knowing that his Pa was there at his side.  His tears had fallen onto the plain white bedsheet which came to rest there at the boy’s waist in preparation for surgery.  Closing his eyes Ben had begged God to show him that He’d heard his ardent prayer.  He could clearly see the incision that Doctor Scully had made just a half of an inch to the right of his son’s spine.  The fresh blood had pooled up inside the gaping wound but was no longer advancing down his back because Joe’s heart had stopped beating.  Ben pleaded one last time and louder than before, *** Joseph, you can make it – come back to me! It was at that precise moment that a loud gasp emanated from Joe’s mouth and against all odds his youngest was alive again!  Thank God! *** He had said blinking back his tears.

Sighing to himself wearily, he stared down at his youngest.  The boy was still sleeping soundly, completely unaware that his father had been sitting right there on the edge of the bed for quite a while. He hadn’t really had any one-on-one time with Joseph ever since the shooting.  There were helping hands around his bed constantly from Mrs. Griswold and her daughter along with the doctor who was there most days.  And at night both he and Hoss sat there next to Joe and watched over him. Always there was the worry that wouldn’t ease up; the notion that his son had died haunted him.  Ben wished that he could erase the frightful memory from his mind and heart.  But he didn’t believe that he ever would forget witnessing his son lying there so lifeless and in the throes of death.  He pressed the palm of his right hand down onto his son’s chest.  Ben closed his eyes as the strong steady heartbeat reverberated against his hand.  *** Keep beating – strong and steady – keep beating! *** Ben counted each beat in his head.  He had to remind himself that the same heart that had stopped was steadily beating again.  But could he ever trust it?  Ben fought back the same paralyzing fear.  He would just have to keep telling himself that the boy would heal in time despite what had happened to him during the surgery.  “If I had lost you, Joseph –,” He choked out the words again, and just like before, they brought tears to his eyes.  “I can’t get it out of my mind – the fact that you were gone.”  Ben drew in a deep breath and gently eased the blanket up around his son’s shoulders.  Out of habit, he softly swept the boy’s curly bangs off his forehead and smiled over the fact that, as usual, Joseph could use a haircut.  “Sleep, Joseph – I love you,” He whispered and pulled himself off the bed.  Ben stood there watching the boy sleep for a few minutes, praying that the medicine would take hold and that the infection would be gone from Joe’s body soon.  He hesitated for a few seconds, wanting to stay but knowing he’d need his sleep so he could take care of his son the next day. Surrendering to his exhaustion he readied to leave.  A sentimental smile played upon his lips as he bent down and left a kiss on Joseph’s cheek before quietly walking out of the room.

Joe convalesced for the next week, his body growing stronger.  His temperature had gone back to normal, and Doctor Martin had given the family the good news that it looked as though the young man would be okay in time.  He still enforced his orders for Joe to stay inside and instructed him not to move around too much.  Joe was glad to get out of bed even if he was only allowed to sit by the window in his room. He was somewhat surprised to find both his father and brother hovering over him more than they usually did when he was sick or hurt.  Joe just presumed that they were acting that way because he’d given them a good scare due to the fact he had been shot twice and left for dead.

Growing frustrated by his long confinement, eight days after he’d been brought home from Griswold’s ranch Joe quickly donned his robe and slippers and eased out of his bedroom.  He stealthily made his way down the hall and to the stairs unnoticed by his overly protective father and brother who were sound asleep in their bedrooms. With his right leg still a bit unsteady due to the damage that the first bullet had caused, Joe cautiously held onto the banister until he made it down to the living room.  He needed some air, and more of it than the window in his room offered him.  Joe quietly limped out of the house, settling down at the table on the front porch.

Closing his eyes, Joe took in the sound of the wind blowing through the pines and the chirping of some very loud crickets.  It was the first time since he’d come home that he felt normal.  He knew that his father and brother only had his best interests at heart but the way they had fussed over him this time had made him feel very ill at ease.  Joe just wanted to breathe without two people standing over him constantly checking him for signs of a fever.

“Joseph!” Ben shouted.  Gripped by the sudden, terrifying fear over his son’s health, he moved swiftly over to the porch, his worry instantly twisting into anger.

Joe turned and stared at his father, confused by the way he had yelled at him and the furious countenance that he wore.  Before he could say anything in response, Pa had placed a hand on his shoulder and was glaring at him.

“You get right back up to your room this instant!” his voice boomed as he pointed a rigid finger toward the door.

“Pa?” Joe asked softly.  The harsh reprimand stung, and the raw hurt in his eyes gave away his confusion.  “Pa? Why are you yelling at me?”

“Don’t ask me that – I just told you to go to your room and I mean it.  Now you’d best mind what I just told you to do, Joseph!” Ben demanded, stepping closer to press the point.

“Stop fussing over me, will you?” Joe complained, wondering why his father wasn’t easing up on him.  “And you don’t have to yell at me either.  I haven’t done anything wrong.  I just wanted to sit outside for a little while.”

The tension left Ben’s hand, and his fingers slid from Joe’s shoulder.  Watching the sudden heavy sadness cloud his son’s face, Ben felt the sharp pang of regret.  He hadn’t meant to yell; panic for his youngest child’s health had simply stolen his voice and turned it into rage.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over him.  Slipping into the chair next to his son, he let out an unsteady breath.

Joe reached over, resting a hand gently on his father’s arm.  “Pa?” he spoke out softly, trying to ease the heavy mood between them.  “Pa – what is it?  It’s just not like you to yell at me for no reason.”

Ben sighed, trying to explain why his worry had exploded the way it did.  He hadn’t meant to shout, but he couldn’t stop himself.  Ever since his son’s heart had stopped beating, there hadn’t been a single day that Ben didn’t fear losing him.

“Joseph—I woke up and went into your room to check on you, and –” Ben stopped short, the words choking in his throat unable to force the rest of the memory past his lips.

“Check on me?   What – again?” Joe asked, his voice laced with exasperation.  “Pa – between you and Hoss you’re both up half the night checking on me here lately.  You heard Doc – he said I’m gonna be okay.  What’s going on?  Is there something you’re not telling me?” Joe’s piercing stare was beginning to find its way into his father’s heart.

Shaking his head, Ben forced a quiet response, desperately trying to shield the truth from his son.  “No – there’s nothing.  I’m sorry, Joseph, I shouldn’t have raised my voice to you.”

“Oh, Pa,” Joe sighed, his tone softening as he watched the sudden change wash over his father’s face.  He drew in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to wait for Pa to finally voice the secret that had been eating at him for weeks.  But looking at him now, Joe knew the truth wasn’t coming.  “I already know.  You don’t have to tell me why you’re so afraid that something’s going to happen to me.”

Looking at his son perplexed by what he had just proffered, Ben asked, “What do you mean you know why I’m afraid that something is going to happen to you, Joseph?  Just what do you think you know?”

Shrugging his shoulders nervously Joe announced quietly, “I know… I know that I died, Pa.”

Caught off guard, Ben almost fell out of his chair due to what the boy had just revealed to him.  His words were stuck in his throat and his heart raced over the implications.  He just stared blankly at Joseph and tried not to reveal the fear in his eyes.

Joe could read the hesitancy written all over his father’s face along with the uneasiness in his posture.  “Pa – it’s okay – you don’t have to hide it from me anymore,” he whispered and placed his hand on his father’s arm, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze.

Clearing his throat, Ben returned insistently, “Your brother shouldn’t have told you.”

“No, Pa – Hoss didn’t say anything to me,” Joe replied shaking his head.

“Then Paul told you,” Ben countered, sure that it had to be the doctor who had mentioned it to his son though he didn’t know why.

“No – Doc didn’t say anything about it either,” Joe insisted, shaking his head.

Confused by what Joe had just relayed, Ben’s eyebrows narrowed, “Well they’re the only ones who knew besides me, Joseph.   Only five people knew what happened that day, the three of us along with Doctor Scully and Mrs. Griswold.”

“No – Pa – nobody had to tell me anything.  I’ve known about it ever since the day it happened.  I just didn’t say anything about it.”

Ben dragged his chair closer, placing a firm hand on his son’s shoulder as he stared intently into his eyes.  Reading the raw sincerity written across Joe’s face, a sudden, chilling realization washed over him – the boy was telling him the absolute truth.

“How, Joseph?” Ben managed to ask, his voice wavering as he stared at his son.  “How did you know?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain it to you, Pa,” Joe whispered, breaking eye contact.  He looked down at the table in front of him, attempting to organize his thoughts before trying to convey his feelings to his father.

Nodding his head, Ben encouraged his son, “Go ahead I’d like to hear it.”

Joe wondered how he’d ever manage to explain himself sufficiently enough.  He knew that no matter how he tried to tell his story it would sound unbelievable.  Drawing in a deep breath he stared into Pa’s eyes and began, “I know that I had an ether mask on – I could smell it – right before I went under.  He cast a quick glance over at Pa hoping for some kind of confirmation.  He watched as his father nodded his head.

“Yes, Son – Doctor Scully had just begun the operation.”

“I – I don’t know how long I was unconscious — but I suddenly felt different—like I was as light as a feather.  My mind was probably under the influence of that ether, and since I’d had it before I remember that it can cause you to dream up some wild things.  But this time it was different, Pa.”

Ben studied his son’s face and read the intensity on it.  “How was it different?”

“I – well — -I could see things that I shouldn’t be able to – like I was kind of floating above my body.  I could see the doctor and Mrs. Griswold standing over the bed.  The doctor had the scalpel in his hand, and he was cutting into my back.”

His eyes wide with disbelief, Ben asked, “Are you telling me that you saw the operation?”

Joe nodded adamantly.  “I saw some of it – that is until things changed.  Suddenly both the doctor and Mrs. Griswold seemed to be panicking about something.  But before I could see what the problem was, I found myself outside.”

Confused by what his son had related, he asked, “Outside?  Outside where, Joseph?”

Shaking his head over what he was about to show his father, Joe studied Pa’s face to try and discern what he’d think of what he was about to tell him.

“Outside on the porch, Pa,” He whispered, witnessing the shock that was beginning to take hold of his father’s face.

Ben leaned back in his chair, drawing in a deep breath to steady himself.  He couldn’t predict what his son was about to say, but reading the sheer rigidity in Joe’s posture, he braced himself for something completely unimaginable.

“The porch?” Ben queried, knowing good and well he had been on the porch during the surgery both before and after his son’s heart had stopped beating.

“I know, Pa,” Joe nodded staring into his eyes.

“You know what?”

“I know you were there on the porch – I saw you,” Joe answered, his eyes burning with intensity.

Unable to answer, Ben simply stared at his son strangely.

“Here,” Joe sighed and reached inside one of the pockets of his robe.  He drew out a piece of paper and handed it to his father.

“What’s this?” He questioned, his hands fumbling with what his son had given him.

Shrugging his shoulders nervously Joe answered, “Pa – a couple of days after I’d finally come around, I asked Mrs. Griswold for a piece of paper and a pencil.  I drew exactly what I saw the day that I died.  Go ahead and look.”

Using the table to smooth out the folds, Ben intently studied the drawing his son had made.

Joe pointed at the railing that went around the Griswold’s front porch.  “Pa – I never saw the exterior of that house or the porch until the day you and Hoss were going to take me home.  The day that they rigged up that travois and brought me there everyone said I was unconscious.  I didn’t come back around until days after you and Hoss made it to their place,” He explained.

“I don’t understand, Son,” Ben announced shaking his head.

“Pa, I never saw that porch in my life.  But I was able to draw it long before I laid my eyes on it the day that we left their ranch.  That’s where you were standing when my heart stopped beating,” he pointed to the railing on the far-left side of the porch.  “There’s the X that I marked on that railing to show that’s where you were standing, Pa.”

Ben fell back in his chair still holding the drawing in his hands.  “That’s exactly right – that’s where I was when Doctor Scully shouted for me to come inside because he’d thought you were gone!”

Joe grinned as he nodded his head, “Yeah, I know, Pa – I saw you standing there just as clear as day.”

Ben gripped his son’s shoulder, trying to rationalize what seemed utterly impossible to him.  “You drew this … before we left the Griswold’s ranch, Son?”

“Yes, Sir – days before we left.  You and Hoss were outside with the sheriff talking about the two men who tried to kill me.  I couldn’t get what happened out of my head so I thought that maybe if I’d draw it that it might make sense.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this, Joseph?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s easy, Pa,” Joe smiled wryly.  “Because I could tell that you were very uneasy about what happened – and once Hoss began to act like you, I knew he’d been told about it too.”

“So – this is what happened during the time you were —” Ben trailed off, refusing to say the word “dead”.

Joe could see how uneasy his father was and nodded over to him.  “It’s okay, Pa, I don’t mind saying it.  I died – I know I did.”

“Do you remember coming out of it?”

“It wasn’t as easy as just “coming out of it”, Pa.  There was something else – beyond seeing you there on the porch.  I know that you were praying out there—I saw you bowing your head.”

“That’s right – I was,” he returned and then placed an unsteady hand on his son’s arm.  “And I thank God that He answered me.  Now tell me the rest of it, Son.”

Sliding his chair back, Joe pulled himself upright.  He had to sort out his thoughts, still trying to convey all the strange events that happened to him.  Moving away from the table, still favoring his right leg due to the bullet wound, he limped over to one of the support beams on the porch. Joe leaned heavily up against it and closed his eyes for a few minutes.

“It’s kind of hard to explain it to you, Pa,” Joe continued in a whisper.

Ben coaxed Joe out with his story, “Go ahead, Son, I’d like to hear it.”

“Right before I was taken off somewhere I tried to call to you, Pa.  But you couldn’t hear me.  I could see how sad you were, and I was trying to let you know that I was alright.  It was a terrible feeling, Pa – not being able to get your attention.”

Ben walked over to his son, dropping a hand onto Joe’s shoulder to provide what comfort he could, “I can only imagine, Joseph,” he said softly.  “What happened after that?”

“I saw you rushing inside the house to see what had happened to me and then I was gone!”

“Gone?  Gone where?”

“Look out there, Pa,” Joe pointed out into the yard.  “You see how dark it is?  There’s not even a moon out tonight.”

Ben simply nodded and waited for his son to continue.

“Well – that’s how it was – right after I’d seen you out on that porch.  I knew that I was dead and I was in the dark and I was all alone.”

“Are you saying that you knew that your heart had stopped?” Ben asked incredulously.

Joe sighed and nodded his head.  “Yeah, Pa.  I knew – I knew I had died.  Then, for what seemed like an eternity, I found myself in total darkness.  It wasn’t a good feeling either.  I thought when I died that I would see a bright light or something.  I mean – I’ve not been the best person in the world – but I figured I wasn’t the worst person either.  So, I thought I’d see the pearly gates or a rainbow—you know – something that would let me know that I’d gone the right way?  But I was just standing in a black void of some kind –it was like a heavy dark cloud that surrounded me.  It was so thick that I couldn’t even tell up from down.”

Ben shook his head, amazed by what his son was relating to him.  He could read the bewilderment all over Joe’s face and knew that he needed to get his story out to try and make some kind of sense out of his bizarre experience.  “Go on, Joseph – tell me what happened.”

Joe stared off towards the barn which was totally cloaked in darkness.  He didn’t speak, as if he had been propelled back to when he’d had his experience.

When his son hadn’t spoken for a few minutes, Ben gently squeezed his shoulder.  “Come on, tell me.”

“You’re probably just going to think that I was hallucinating – like I’d been doing when I was delirious and kept telling you about that wagon wheel and teepee.”

“No, I won’t,” Ben reassured his son.  “We both know something happened to you—so go ahead and tell me,” he insisted.

Dropping his head down Joe gathered his thoughts again and finally looked up at his father before continuing.  “That darkness seemed to surround me – but then suddenly, I noticed a soft glow in the distance.  I turned around and it was that light –,” Joe paused and pointed over to the porch lamp hanging just outside of the front door.  “And then I saw the front door open – and there you were!  You were walking out and you were calling over to me, Pa.”

Ben listened intently not wanting to interrupt his son’s description of events.  He simply nodded for Joe to continue.

“You kept telling me to come back to you, Pa.  And I kept telling you that I couldn’t – because I was too tired,” Joe stopped once more as a sudden flood of emotion swept over him.  After being in the dark for what seemed like an eternity suddenly, he had seen his Pa and hope had swelled up inside of him.  He could see it all so clearly in his mind, just as he had for the last three weeks.  There hadn’t been one day since he had gone through the experience that he hadn’t mulled it over in his mind and wondered what it meant.

Ben stared at his son, noticing how lost Joe seemed in the memory of everything he’d gone through. “Go on, Joseph,” Ben murmured, offering a reassuring pat to the boy’s arm.

“It was like I couldn’t see you very clearly, you know?  I mean — I knew that it was you, Pa. But it looked like you were standing in between the dark and light and part of the time you weren’t much more than a silhouette.   And I couldn’t even tell which direction your voice was coming from – even though I could see you and the front door.  I can still hear in my mind everything that you said to me and everything that I said to you too.”

“Tell me exactly what happened, Son,” he insisted with a quick nod of his head.

Joe spoke out in a whisper, detailing it all just as he had seen in his mind every day for over three weeks.  He watched as his father hurried out of the front door and cried out to him.

*** “Joseph, you don’t want to go out there, Son.”  “No, I don’t it’s too dark.”  “Then come on back.”  “Where, Pa?”  “Here, Son – over here.”  “I don’t know if I can, Pa – I’m so tired.”  “You must, Joseph!”  “So tired – will you miss me?”  “Yes, I will.  Come on, Son, you can make it!  Come on!”  “I can’t, Pa.”  “Come on!” ***

“I had almost stepped into that void, but I looked back and saw you again.  You stood there just reaching your hands out to me, Pa – trying to prevent me from leaving you.”

Ben nodded his head, remembering how he had leaned down over his son and begged him to come back to him that day.

“Pa – I started to move away from where you were – and walk back into that dark void.  I don’t think I could’ve come back if I’d gone much further.  There was just one moment in time – when I heard your voice clearer than it was before – and you were pleading with me to come back to you.  It was then that I knew I was being given the choice to either head into the darkness or come back home to you,” Joe paused and looked up at his father, tears welling up in his eyes.   “I felt myself coming back into my body and then I heard your voice.  This time I knew that you were really there next to me.  The doctor said he’d picked up my heartbeat with his stethoscope, and I heard you say, “thank God.”  I only came back because of you, Pa.  The way that you kept insisting that I could do it and the way that you kept reaching your hands out to me, it was like you were pulling me out of that darkness and over to you.  I was so tired, but you gave me the strength I needed to do it and that’s why I’m still here.  I was given a choice, and the choice was an easy one.  I chose to be here with you, Pa.”

Taking in a deep breath, Ben wrapped his arms around his youngest, pulling him tight to his chest.  “Thank God that you did,” he whispered, tears spilling from his eyes.

Resting quietly, his face pressed against the warmth of his father’s shoulder, Joe took a few minutes to gather his thoughts before speaking again.  He felt completely safe held there in Pa’s arms, his mind heavy with the sudden realization of what his father must have gone through – enduring the absolute agony of believing his youngest son was dead.

“So, did anything I just told you make any sense, Pa?” Joe asked softly, his voice breaking the silence as both he and his father wiped away the last of their tears.

“Yes,” Ben responded, a gentle knowing smile gracing his lips. “It makes a lot of sense, Joseph,” he admitted, his voice full of warmth. “The doctor yelled for me to come inside the house.  I had been out on the porch waiting for him to finish operating on you.  I raced to your bedside when Doctor Scully said that he’d lost you.  Your heart stopped beating – for two minutes.”

“So, I guess that’s when you told me to come back to you, isn’t it, Pa?”

Staring directly into his son’s questioning eyes, Ben nodded, “That’s right.  I kept pleading with you to come back to me.  I also asked God to bring you back, Joseph.”

“I’m glad He let me,” Joe responded gratefully, smiling up at his father.

Filled with relief over the story he had just heard, Ben hugged his son once again and replied, “So am I.”

Joe thought over everything his father had shared, piecing together what had happened during and after his surgery.  He mulled over the details for a few quiet minutes before asking, “You believe me, right?”

Ben lifted his son’s drawing off the table and nodded, “I don’t really need proof – but I’d say this was something tangible if I did need some.  Now that’s not to say that I’m not amazed by what you’ve told me — but I do believe you, Son.”

Joe grinned and said, “It was kind of a miracle, wasn’t it?”

Nodding his head Ben agreed, “Yes it was, Joseph.”

“Thanks, Pa – for believing me.  I’m sure some of it probably sounded a bit far-fetched.”

Ben pursed his lips and thought for a minute before looking back over at his son.  “Well, there was only one part of your tale that I’d say sounded implausible to me.”

“Only one?” Joe chuckled.  He had expected much more than that.  “Okay – which part?”

Ben smiled and answered, “That part where you asked if I would miss you.  I found it very hard to believe that you’d ask that.”

Grinning, Joe nodded, “Yeah – guess that was a stupid question — even for someone who was dead at the time.”

“No more of that, Young Man – you weren’t exactly dead – let’s just say you were in between somewhere.  It would ease my mind.”

“Okay, Pa — I guess I did scare you pretty badly, huh?”

Ben tilted his head as he raised his eyebrows, “What do you think?”

Joe nodded, “Yeah – I did.”

“I don’t want to ever go through anything like that again, Young Man,” Ben announced sternly.

“Sorry I worried you, Pa,” He apologized, hugging his father’s shoulder.  “I guess that’s why you and Hoss have been watching me like a hawk, huh?”

“Yes – you’re just going to have to give us some time to get used to the idea that you’re not going to leave us again, Joseph,” Ben smiled as he eased the boy out of his embrace.

“Sure, Pa,” Joe nodded.  “You can stay up all night checking on me if it’ll make you feel better – I won’t say anything about it.”

“Hopefully that won’t be necessary too much longer,” he insisted.  Pa pointed a firm finger toward the front door.  “But as for right now, Young Man, you’re going up to your room —with no complaints.”  Slinging an arm over Joe’s shoulder, he guided him off the porch.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe grinned knowingly as the two of them made their way to the front door.

Joe paused and looked over at the man there at his side. His eyes reflecting the love he felt for his father, he whispered, “Thanks, Pa – for bringing me back.”

Ben ruffled a hand through his son’s hair and grinned at him as he pushed the front door open.  “Thank you for listening to me this time, Joseph.  You haven’t always done what I’ve asked you to do, but you finally did when it counted the most.  And for that I’m very grateful.”

As they stepped inside, Joe paused beside the credenza, sighing to himself.  He felt a profound sense of relief having finally gotten the truth off his chest, wishing more than anything that life could just return to normal now.

Ben pointed to a box sitting on top of the credenza, and said, “Take a look at this, Joseph.”

Joe stared at the package and then up at his father.  “What is it?”

“Well, I was going to give you this tomorrow – but as late as it is, it’s tomorrow now,” He chuckled and handed it to his son.

Lifting the lid, Joe removed the gift inside.  “Hey!  It’s my jacket!”

Ben grinned and shook his head, “No – not exactly – but it’s pretty close.  I had that new tailor in town make it for you.”

“What – couldn’t Hop Sing mend the other one?” Joe asked somewhat confused.  He realized that there was a bullet hole in his old jacket, but for Hop Sing that wasn’t much of a challenge to repair.

Ben hedged for a few seconds and then dropped his gaze, not wanting his son to know why he had tossed the old one.  He finally replied, “Ah—no – it couldn’t be fixed.”

Joe grinned as he studied his father’s face and his sudden hesitant demeanor.  “Oh –you got rid of it because of the blood – right, Pa?” He countered knowingly.

Clearing his throat while trying to hide his guilt, Ben shook his head, “No Joseph —it was – well – it was about time that you had a new one.  The old one was getting pretty worn.”

Joe patted his father’s shoulder and nodded his understanding.  He didn’t have to admit it; Joe just knew that for Pa the reminder of his son getting shot in the back was all over that old jacket — along with the two minutes when he had thought he’d lost his youngest.  Pa had already been through enough.  Joe turned back towards his gift to put his father’s mind at ease.

“Looks better than the other one,” Joe said as he shrugged out of his robe.  He slipped into the jacket and grinned over at his father.  “Fits just fine – and it’s just the right color too.  I can’t believe you got this made for me in only eight days, Pa.”

“Ah — another miracle,” Ben chuckled, both pleased and relieved that his son liked his gift.  He figured that Joe deserved something for all he’d gone through lately.  And, after all, he had thrown away his son’s old jacket due to the bullet hole and the blood that coated it.  Ben was thankful to have the sad reminder of how he had almost lost his son gone forever.  He prayed that someday he’d be able to forget the whole terrifying ordeal, but he wasn’t too sure that either he or Joseph ever would.  Shaking himself from his thoughts, Ben watched the smile spreading across his son’s face.  He still had Joseph, and that was all that mattered.

Joe eased out of the jacket, a bit overwhelmed by the sentiment.  The old one may have carried a bullet hole, but this one carried his father’s love.  “Thanks, Pa,” he whispered before gently setting the gift back inside the box and pulling his robe back on.

“Glad you like it,” Ben nodded as he draped an arm across his son’s shoulder.  “Now, Young Man, there’s just one more thing I’ve got to tell you.”

“Yeah, Pa, what’s that?”

With an abrupt index finger pointed in the direction of the staircase, Ben went back to the strong, authoritative father Joe had known and loved his whole life.  He announced sternly, “Get yourself up to your room and go to sleep!”

*** Well, I should’ve seen that coming.  Looks like everything’s back to normal again! *** Joe sighed and nodded dutifully to his father.  Whispering a quick, “Yes, Sir,” he turned for the stairs.

Ben smiled warmly, his eyes tracking his son’s steps up to his bedroom.  The past three weeks of constant fear was replaced by the certainty that he would sleep a whole lot better that night.  *** Thank you for coming back to me, Joseph, *** he thought.  Then, with a much lighter heart, Ben turned and followed his son up the staircase.

The End

Written by Wrangler

8/8/26

*** The episode “Bushwhacked!” was written by Preston Wood, in my opinion one of the best writers that ever wrote for the Bonanza series. ***

(Dedicated to the story consultant Rob, who works almost as hard as I do. And to Rosalyn, who thankfully caught my error. Eleven times I spelled Griswold wrong. Thank you for the correction and your help!)