{"id":10823,"date":"2004-08-25T15:58:09","date_gmt":"2004-08-25T19:58:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=10823"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:09:29","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:09:29","slug":"the-sound-of-silence","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=10823","title":{"rendered":"The Sound of Silence (by Rona)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0 How did Joe actually cope without a voice?\u00a0 This is set during my story ‘Guilty’.\u00a0 It would be advisable to read it first.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 T\u00a0 (6,215 words)<\/p>\n

Guilty Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Guilty<\/a>
\nThe Sound of Silence<\/a><\/p>\n

For Helen \u2013 thanks for the idea!<\/em><\/p>\n

The Sound of Silence<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was choking, the noose tightening round his neck, cutting off his air. Joe tried to drag air in through his nose, but it didn\u2019t seem to reach his lungs. Oh God, I don\u2019t want to die!<\/em> Joe thought, as the world began to go black at the edges.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With a start, Joe Cartwright jerked awake and sat upright, gasping for breath, his mouth open in a silent scream. It took a second for his eyes to register that the darkness he was seeing was just normal night time, not the darkness of impending unconsciousness. He was safe, alive and at home in his own bed. Joe gulped and dragged in a deep breath, trying to calm the erratic hammering of his heart.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hitching himself back on the bed so that he was supported by the headboard, Joe closed his eyes for a moment. He desperately wanted someone to come in and talk to him, but he knew that wouldn\u2019t happen. The nightmares about his recent near-hanging were persistent, but none of the family knew about them, because Joe had no voice with which to scream. The noose that had been round his neck had bruised his throat so badly that Joe might never talk again. And with the broken ankle and gunshot wound that he had sustained at the same time, Joe could not go and waken his father, much as he wanted to.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As the sweat began to dry on his body, Joe shivered. He was reluctant to lie down and go to sleep again. He knew all too well that the nightmare lurked just beyond the boundaries of sleep. Again and again Joe relived the moment when he was shoved up the scaffold steps, tripping over the leg irons he had been forced to wear. Then the temporary sheriff, McGuire, had removed the irons, tying his legs tightly together, snugging the noose around his neck and gagging him. And it was then that the worst of the nightmare began, if the beginning hadn\u2019t been bad enough; no, it was then that McGuire admitted \u2013 only to Joe – raping and murdering Joe\u2019s girlfriend, Suzanne, and then framing Joe for the crime. Fighting desperately against the bonds that held him captive, Joe had seen with relief his brothers arriving with the witness who would prove his innocence. And that was the exact moment the sheriff opened the trapdoor and Joe plunged down, down, and started to choke.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In reality, Joe had been hanged for no more than a few seconds \u2013 but in the nightmare, Joe wasn\u2019t rescued. Dropping his head into his hands, Joe blinked back a rush of tears. When would this nightmare end?<\/em> he wondered despairingly. Would he be able to sleep properly when<\/em> \u2013 if \u2013 he got his voice back?<\/em> Throwing his head back, Joe felt his throat gingerly. It had only been three days since it happened, and his throat was still sore to the touch and swallowing anything more substantial than liquid was beyond him. The cast was heavy on his broken ankle, weighing him down and trapping him in the bed. His shoulder, where he had been shot, throbbed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With a silent groan, Joe decided to lie down again, because he was becoming chilled. He wasn\u2019t wearing a nightshirt, as he usually did, because the material irritated the wound on his shoulder and he could feel the cool night air against his smooth, bare chest.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was fighting with the blankets when his door suddenly opened and Joe winced away from the unexpected influx of light. \u201cJoe?\u201d said his father\u2019s deep, reassuring voice. \u201cAre you all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

No, I\u2019m not all right!<\/em> The words were there, but Joe couldn\u2019t get them to come out. He tried to smile and shrug, but he couldn\u2019t manage that either. The despair and frustration he felt were too deep to allow him to lie and he simply shook his head.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But Ben hadn\u2019t needed Joe to speak to know that his son was not all right. The look on Joe\u2019s face told him everything he needed to know. He hurried across to the bed and sat down, putting the lamp on the bedside table. \u201cWas it a nightmare?\u201d he asked, quietly.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Glumly, blinking back the betraying tears, Joe nodded. He opened his mouth to try and tell Ben about it, but nothing happened. Glancing round, Joe saw that the pad he had been using to write on wasn\u2019t on his bedside table. He started to sign to his father, then remembered that Ben didn\u2019t know more than the basics of sign language and the basics wouldn\u2019t cover this conversation.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Almost as distraught as his son, Ben did the only thing he could and reached out to draw Joe into a comforting embrace, much as he had done when Joe was younger and had wakened from a nightmare. \u201cIt\u2019s all right, Joe,\u201d he soothed. \u201cIt\u2019s just a dream; you\u2019re safe and its over.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With his head nestled on his father\u2019s shoulder, Joe allowed the tears to fall. He didn\u2019t usually mind if he cried \u2013 Joe\u2019s emotions were always close to the surface \u2013 but right now he felt as though all he wanted to do, all day every day, was cry and he despised himself for this perceived weakness. It didn\u2019t occur to Joe that he had almost died three days before and suffered a huge amount of trauma and he was perfectly entitled to cry. In fact, it was good for him. Stifling his feelings so as not to worry his family had been the worst thing he could do.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And once the tears started to fall, Joe discovered that he couldn\u2019t stop them. He cried on and on, silently, with just his shuddering breaths punctuating the night. Ben rocked him as he had done on many an occasion in the past, murmuring wordless sounds of comfort and love.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At length, the release of the tension \u2013 at least temporarily \u2013 exhausted Joe and he slid into sleep, still leaning against Ben\u2019s shoulder. Gently, Ben laid Joe back on his pillows and it was only then, with Joe safely asleep, that Adam and Hoss came into the room. Adam drew back the blankets and arranged the fireguard over the plastered foot, so that the weight of the covers didn\u2019t rest on it directly and then made sure that no drafts could get in. While he did that, Hoss tucked the covers around Joe\u2019s bare shoulders, careful to avoid touching the still-sore shoulder. Ben stretched, realising that he was stiff from sitting still so long.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When they were all out in the hall once more, Ben glanced at his older sons. \u201cHow long were you there?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cRight from when you went in,\u201d Adam replied. \u201cI heard you going into Joe\u2019s room and I just came to make sure you didn\u2019t need anything. And then\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI came,\u201d Hoss filled in, although that wasn\u2019t what Adam had been going to say, and Ben well knew it. Adam was the polar opposite of Joe. Where the younger man was tempestuous, impulsive, loving and demonstrative, Adam preferred to keep his emotions in check and private. He loved just as deeply, but he just didn\u2019t show it as obviously. Adam had been embarrassed to realise that his brother was crying, although Adam had shed enough tears in his time. Only rarely had Ben been there to help him through those times, although that was Adam\u2019s choice, not Ben\u2019s.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWhat made you go in?\u201d Adam asked, deciding that it was better not to mention the tears. \u201cI didn\u2019t hear anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sighing Ben made a face. \u201cAs if he could have called,\u201d he mentioned sadly. \u201cI just decided to check on him before I went to sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWas it a nightmare?\u201d Hoss asked, his genial face lined with worry.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Ben sighed. \u201cAnd there wasn\u2019t even a pad of paper by his bed so he could tell me about it.\u201d He glanced at Adam. \u201cTomorrow, we\u2019re going to make sure that there\u2019s pencil and paper scattered all over the house, but especially by his bed, as Joe won\u2019t be getting up for a few days.\u201d He smiled. \u201cNow, off you go to bed, both of you. Its late and you\u2019ve got an early start tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cNight, Pa,\u201d they chorused and obediently went off to bed, as did Ben. But it was quite some time before any of them slept.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

******************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When he awoke the next morning, Joe was quite surprised to find he had slept soundly and without any dreams he could remember. Stretching cautiously, he examined the sunlight on the walls of his room and decided that it was about 9 am. Usually, Joe found it pleasant to lie in and not have to get up until he was ready, but today, knowing he faced an enforced period of bed-rest, he was consumed by a rush of loneliness.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Wriggling into a more comfortable position, Joe felt his stomach rumble. He wondered how on earth he was going to attract anyone\u2019s attention to let them know that he was awake and hungry. Opening his mouth, he tried to speak, but not a sound emerged.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Frustration welled in his chest and Joe looked around for something to throw, something that would smash and make a satisfying sound, but there was nothing within easy reach, not even a glass of water. He could have lobbed his pillows across the room, but then he would be uncomfortable and they wouldn\u2019t make any noise. Joe was filled with the desire to hear some noise.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Another desire made itself apparent to Joe and he sighed before starting the awkward fight with the blankets so he could slide carefully out of bed to make use of the chamber pot. The fireguard was great at keeping the covers off his foot, but he found it a devil of a job to manoeuvre a plaster cast around. He had reached the tricky stage of leaning on his good arm and trying to reach the covers with his bad arm when the door opened and Ben came in.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cLet me help you, son,\u201d he smiled and deftly removed the covers and helped Joe to stand on one leg.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With his bladder empty, Joe felt much better. He sat on the side of the bed while Ben took away the chamber pot and eyed his cast ruefully. There was a crutch leaning in the corner of his room, but until his shoulder healed, Joe wouldn\u2019t be able to use it. He gently prodded his shoulder and winced. It still hurt \u2013 well, it had only been 4 days.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

An appetising aroma preceded Ben into the room and Joe\u2019s stomach rumbled again. He was dying to eat something solid, but he knew there was no way he could do that. Swallowing was a painful experience and when he had tried to eat some bread the day before, he had almost choked trying to get it down.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Laying the tray on Joe\u2019s dresser, Ben helped him back into bed and made sure he was comfortable before putting the tray on Joe\u2019s lap. Steam rose from the bowl of soup and Joe decided that it was chicken soup, from the smell. And lying next to the bowl was a pad of paper and a pencil. Joe looked up at Ben with a smile.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry it wasn\u2019t there last night, Joe,\u201d Ben apologised. \u201cI\u2019ve got paper ready for you everywhere you\u2019ll need it.\u201d Joe smiled his thanks and started to eat the soup; it was chicken. \u201cAnd once you\u2019re finished eating, if you feel up to it, your brothers will bring you downstairs for a while. Does that sound all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Not to be stuck in his room alone? That sounded more than all right to Joe. He nodded vigorously and mouthed \u2018thanks\u2019. Ben smiled. \u201cWell, eat up every drop of that soup, son, although by the way your stomach was rumbling, I don\u2019t think that\u2019s going to be a problem. Would you like to have your coffee downstairs?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Again, Joe nodded. Initially, the hot soup had felt very uncomfortable as it slid down his throat, but now he\u2019d had a few mouthfuls, his throat wasn\u2019t as sore. Joe wondered if he could manage to eat anything more substantial and then he found a tiny bit of chicken and nearly choked to death and discarded the notion.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAll right?\u201d Ben asked, worriedly. He hated to see Joe like this. The ugly bruise on his neck was merging into the rope burn and it looked extremely painful.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sighing, Joe nodded, although he wasn\u2019t really. Picking up the pad he wrote, I\u2019m just tired of this, Pa, that\u2019s all.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI understand,\u201d Ben assured him. Smiling, Joe continued to eat, not telling Ben that he didn\u2019t really understand. Joe could not remember a time when Ben had ever been completely unable to talk. Joe was not sure how he was going to face an entire life like this, if the worst happened and he never recovered his voice.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

***********************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The trip downstairs did much to lift Joe\u2019s spirits, as his brothers kidded him heavily the whole time they were carrying him down, threatening to drop him and then complaining loudly about how heavy he was. Joe wished he could kid them back, but by the time he was able to write down his repartee, the conversation had moved on and the retort had lost its impact.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After lunch \u2013 beef broth this time \u2013 Joe fell asleep for a while and wakened, once more out of the same familiar nightmare. He sat up abruptly and almost fell off the sofa. He glanced round the room, trying to calm himself and saw that Ben was nowhere in sight.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Panicked, Joe pushed off the blanket and started to rise, forgetting for a moment how onerous a chore that now was. He made it halfway to his feet when a wave of dizziness struck and Joe lost his precarious balance and fell to the floor. He let out a grunt of pain as the impact reverberated through his injured body.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Panting, Joe forced himself to relax before he attempted to get up. He tried to use both arms to push himself up using the table for support, but his right shoulder wasn\u2019t having any of it. Sitting back onto the floor, Joe sighed. He would have to do it the hard way, then!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He\u2019d made it as far as his knees and was wondering how on earth he was going to manage to get back onto the sofa when Ben\u2019s voice called, \u201cJoe!\u201d Moments later, his father\u2019s warm hands were helping him up and back onto the sofa, where Joe lay back against the cushions and allowed his father to lift his legs up for him. \u201cAre you all right?\u201d Ben demanded, seeing how pale Joe was. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Opening his mouth, Joe abruptly remembered that he couldn\u2019t talk and made a motion for a pencil. Ben obliged at once and Joe quickly scribbled down his tale. He lay back, watching Ben\u2019s face as his father read the note and saw Ben\u2019s annoyance that he had been out of the room when Joe needed him. Swiftly, Joe reclaimed the pad.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pa, you can\u2019t always be there for me, he wrote. I just forgot that I couldn\u2019t get up, that was all. I just wanted to get away from the dream. I\u2019m fine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAll right,\u201d Ben nodded. He patted Joe\u2019s hand. \u201cDoc Martin should be here in a little while.\u201d Joe made an expressive face and Ben laughed. \u201cThat\u2019s quite enough, young man,\u201d he scolded Joe gently.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Unrepentant, Joe made another face and stuck out his tongue. Then he grinned. Ben grinned back. \u201cDo you want something to eat? Or a cup of coffee or hot chocolate?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe nodded and Ben cursed, for in asking three questions with yes or no answers in quick succession, he had no idea what Joe was agreeing to. \u201cSomething to eat?\u201d he asked and Joe shook his head. \u201cCoffee?\u201d A nod. \u201cCoffee it is then. Are you sure you wouldn\u2019t like chocolate?\u201d He all but slapped himself then, for he had done it again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Realising, Joe forced himself to see the humour in the situation. Snatching the pad back, he wrote coffee.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cCoffee it is,\u201d Ben smiled. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Joe, I\u2019m sure I\u2019ll get the hang of this soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Still smiling, Joe watched his father disappear into the kitchen and then the smile faded and he closed his eyes. The tears burned behind his closed lids as he hoped fervently that his father wouldn\u2019t have to get the hang of anything soon.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The coffee was just arriving as Paul Martin came in. He took a cup gratefully and sat making chit-chat with Ben while he drank it. Joe felt quite excluded. Several times, he had a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but before he could make a grab for the pad, the conversation had moved on.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At last, Paul started to examine Joe, asking him questions that he could answer with either a nod or shake of his head. Joe winced several times as Paul gently felt his throat and Joe wondered if he would develop an aversion to things around his neck. Certainly, when Paul had his hands there, it was all Joe could do not to flinch away. He felt quite sick, too and wondered if anyone had ever thrown up over the doctor. The thought almost made him smile.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cJoe, you\u2019ve got a big swelling on your voice box,\u201d Paul said at last. \u201cWe call it a haematoma. I hope, once it has gone, that your voice will come back, but I\u2019m afraid that I can\u2019t promise. I don\u2019t know if the voice box itself has been damaged, or if it\u2019s just the pressure from the swelling that is preventing you talking. But in the meantime, here\u2019s something to keep you all busy of an evening. Joe, you know most of this as it is.\u201d He dropped a book into Joe\u2019s lap and Joe recognised the sign language book he had used to teach Ann Croft. \u201cThat should help speed up communications a bit, once the others have learned it.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Grinning, Joe signed thanks, doctor<\/em>, and began to thumb though the pages, stopping every now and then when a familiar sign caught his attention. Ben looked over at Paul and met his eyes. \u201cThank you,\u201d he said, softly. Paul nodded.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re welcome,\u201d he replied, equally softly.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

******************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t as simple as that. While Joe knew the signs, and just needed to familiarise himself with them again, the others were learning from scratch. Ben spent quite a bit of time poring over the book, but Adam and Hoss were only at home during the evening and one book between them didn\u2019t seem to be working. Joe would start off signing something enthusiastically, then remember that the others didn\u2019t know what he meant and he would allow his hands to drop. As well as that, his family weren\u2019t always looking at him, so he could sign something and they wouldn\u2019t see, and Joe realised that even if Ben had known signing that afternoon, it wouldn\u2019t have helped him, as Joe had really needed to shout to get his father\u2019s attention. At the realisation that his difficulties weren\u2019t really over at all, Joe sank back into despondency.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At length, Ben noticed that Joe was looking fed up. \u201cJoe? Are you all right?\u201d Joe nodded, figuring that it would be too much trouble to either sign or write down what was wrong. \u201cAre you tired?\u201d Again, Joe nodded, for he was tired \u2013 tired of being unable to speak, tired of being unable to get around under his own power. \u201cWould you like to go to bed?\u201d Ben asked and Joe nodded for a third time.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go then,\u201d Adam declared cheerfully. Joe strangled a desire to thump his brother for his unwonted cheerfulness. \u201cAnd then I can come down and do some intensive study on this book.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Smiling, Joe realised that they were trying. He nodded again, and wondered if his head would come loose, with all the nodding and shaking he had done recently. An added problem was that his head felt really heavy on top of his neck and Joe had to make a conscious effort to hold it up. He guessed that the muscles had been damaged by the noose, too. It wasn\u2019t a pleasant thought.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

By the time he had been carried upstairs and Ben had helped him remove his clothes, Joe was exhausted. He allowed Ben to fuss with his bed covers, adjusting the fireguard and making sure there were no drafts to plague Joe during the night. He was drifting on the outer fringes of sleep as Ben leant over to brush a kiss over his brow. Joe smiled sleepily and squeezed Ben\u2019s hand. \u201cGood night, son,\u201d Ben whispered and watched as Joe slid into a deeper sleep.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

****************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Choking \u2013 oh lord, he was choking! Someone help me!<\/em> Joe screamed silently against the gag. He fought the bonds that held him, to no avail. His legs were bound together and his hands were tied behind his back and he was going to die<\/em>!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With a gasp that masqueraded as a scream, Joe jolted awake, his heart racing and his breath sobbing in his ears. He had become entangled in the blankets and they were twisted around his legs, holding him tightly, amplifying his fear.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Freeing his hands, Joe managed at last to tug the covers loose and sank back in relief. He was shaking like a leaf and his heart beat still hadn\u2019t slowed down. I want these dreams to stop<\/em>, Joe thought. He forced himself to take deep, calming breaths and at last felt his body respond. His tense muscles gradually loosened.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I can\u2019t go on like this<\/em>, Joe thought, washing his shaking hands over his face. I\u2019ll go mad if I don\u2019t get some real sleep soon<\/em>. He closed his eyes, but sleep was far away. He shivered, suddenly cold and pulled the covers up to his shoulders and then discovered that his feet were sticking out and getting cold.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Heaving a sigh of resignation, Joe sat up and tried to arrange the blankets so that his feet were covered, but he couldn\u2019t manage to get the blankets settled properly over the fire guard. He struggled on, cursing silently, becoming more and more frustrated. Eventually, Joe gave up and resigned himself to having cold feet.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He lay for a long time, staring into the darkness, forcing himself to think of the comforting things that meant home to him. Gradually, this had the effect of calming him enough that he slipped into sleep once more.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

***************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cJoe isn\u2019t sleeping properly,\u201d Ben told Paul, twisting his hat between his hands. \u201cHe looks dreadful.\u201d He glanced up at Paul. \u201cAnd when the nightmares come, he can\u2019t even call to us.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI should have thought of this before,\u201d Paul commented. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Ben. Joe is bound to have nightmares.\u201d He scribbled on his pad. \u201cGive him this at night, Ben and he should sleep better. Once he\u2019s back in the habit of sleeping all night, you can give him less and less until he\u2019s not getting any at all, and that should help.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Paul,\u201d Ben replied, gratefully.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cApart from that, how is he?\u201d Paul asked. It had been several days since he had seen Joe. \u201cAny sign of his voice coming back yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Ben replied, his voice low and his tone depressed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s only been a week,\u201d Paul sighed. \u201cAnd I\u2019m in uncharted territory here, Ben. I\u2019ve never dealt with something like this before.\u201d He rose and walked with Ben to the door. \u201cHow\u2019s the sign language coming along?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cSlowly,\u201d Ben admitted. \u201cI understand a few words, and so does Hoss. Adam is getting on better than we are, but that\u2019s no help when he\u2019s out during the day.\u201d Ben made a wry face. \u201cBut we\u2019ll get there.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cOf course you will,\u201d Paul encouraged him. He didn\u2019t like to say that Ben, Hoss and Adam might have the rest of their lives to practice.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But that thought had already occurred to Ben.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*******************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As he came slowly awake, Joe realised that he had slept all through the night, with no dreams that he could remember at all. It was only as he became aware of the niggling headache that he understood why he had slept all night; he had had a sleeping potion.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Normally, that knowledge would have sent Joe into a tearing rage, furiously denouncing his father for tricking him, informing Ben curtly that he was a big boy now and able to deal with any nightmares that came his way. Then, he would storm out of the house and slam the door behind him before jumping on Cochise and having a good gallop to relieve his hurt feelings.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But after his first peaceful night\u2019s sleep in more than a week, Joe wasn\u2019t going to quibble with the methods used to gain such rest. He hated feeling \u2018hung over\u2019 the morning after taking a sleeping draught, but that seemed a small price to pay for the dreamlessness.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In fact, Joe was so quiet that day that Ben wondered if the sleeping draught was such a good idea. Joe didn\u2019t lose his temper even once and \u2018said\u2019 almost nothing. It was almost as though the drug was still in his system, and Joe was tranquilised. In a way, it was. Joe had almost forgotten what it felt like to sleep for more than a few short hours at a time, and hadn\u2019t realised how tired he had become. The previous night, he had slept for nearly 12 hours and was feeling more at peace with himself than he had for a long time \u2013 not since the whole nightmare began.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When Hoss and Adam returned that evening, Joe even found a little of his old sparkle, mischievously teasing Adam by sign language for a few minutes. However, Hoss, who had followed the start of the signed conversation, had lost the thread half way through by looking away and the jokes weren\u2019t as funny when they had to be repeated.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Despite his misgivings, Ben once more doctored Joe\u2019s after supper coffee and it wasn\u2019t long before his youngest indicated that he was tired. Ben knew that Joe had been grieving for Suzanne, his murdered girlfriend, and that had tired him out, too. But the thing that really tired Joe was the depressing thought that he might never regain his ability to speak. What was he going to do then?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

**************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As Joe\u2019s shoulder healed, he was allowed to go about on crutches and he was soon venturing out to the corral and barn. To begin with, this cheered Joe up a bit, but an overheard conversation between two ranch hands stole the joy out of this small progress and plunged him straight into free-fall.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI hear Joe ain\u2019t never gonna speak agin,\u201d Dusty told Slim.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI heard that it ain\u2019t really his throat what was damaged,\u201d Slim replied, unaware of Joe\u2019s presence outside the barn door. \u201cI was told that he ain\u2019t right in the head. That\u2019s why he\u2019s been kept locked up in the house. They was makin\u2019 sure he wasn\u2019t gonna hurt nobody.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The bang of the door on the side of the barn made both cowboys flinch violently and they looked round, shocked rigid. Joe was standing in the doorway, his green eyes blazing. Words weren\u2019t really necessary, although they were pounding away inside Joe\u2019s head. He opened his mouth, in the hope that the words would come, but they didn\u2019t. Impotently, Joe debated throwing a crutch at them, but he knew that would just confirm the rumours.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But luckily, Joe wasn\u2019t alone, although he hadn\u2019t realised that. Adam was in the hayloft, checking over the number of bales of hay and estimating how many he would need to have brought up to restock. Frozen with horror as he heard the men giving voice to a couple of the scurrilous rumours that were circulating round Virginia City, Adam got almost as big a shock as the men when the barn door banged open.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Seeing Joe\u2019s set face and blazing eyes, Adam decided to step in. \u201cAs you can see,\u201d he began sternly, causing the men to jump again, \u201cmy brother is completely in his right mind.\u201d He climbed down the ladder. His anger made him want to jump down, but common sense told Adam that it might be a dramatic movement, but it was also fool-hardy. \u201cBut you two clearly aren\u2019t. Come over to the house and I\u2019ll give you your wages, because you are both fired!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Spluttering indignantly, the men glanced from one brother to the other and their protests died unvoiced. Both Cartwrights exuded dark menace and neither of the unfortunate cowhands wanted to provoke them any further. Death seemed quite preferable at that moment to facing an enraged young Cartwright.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As he stepped past Joe, Adam rested his hand briefly on his younger brother\u2019s shoulder, but there was no comfort he could give. Joe wasn\u2019t stupid. He knew where those rumours had come from and he suspected that it wouldn\u2019t be the last time he would hear about it either. Tears burned in his eyes, but Joe refused to let them fall. He did throw a crutch into the recesses of the barn, but regretted his impulse at once, when he had difficulty retrieving it. Mercifully, by the time he had done that and made it back inside the house, Slim and Dusty were gone.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*********************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As they often were, the rumours were persistent. Slim and Dusty served as an example to the rest of the cowhands and they were careful not to repeat any of them where they might be overheard, but that didn\u2019t stop the townsfolk. As the story was passed on from person to person, it became embellished and before long, there was even a suggestion that Joe was guilty of Suzanne\u2019s murder and that he had, in turn, framed the temporary sheriff.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When this rumour reached the ears of Roy Coffee, the usual sheriff, he took steps to deal with it and sent away the rumour-monger with a sore ear. McGuire had been taken away for trial and Roy wasn\u2019t sorry. He wasn\u2019t sure he could have treated the man with professional detachment. He was sickened by what the man had done. Roy took his position very seriously and was offended that someone could abuse their power like that.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*********************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Although Joe went out daily to spend time with Cochise, he had become much quieter again after the incident with Slim and Dusty. He abandoned his attempts to communicate in sign language, because the only one who was making much progress with it was Adam. Part of that was Adam\u2019s determination to learn, and he tended to hog the only book they had, thus making it more difficult for Hoss and Ben to do any learning. Part of it was that neither Hoss nor Ben was willing to admit, even to themselves, that Joe might not talk again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There was progress. The swelling in Joe\u2019s throat was slowly going down and he was able to eat small pieces of solid food, which was a considerable relief. Even allowing for Hop Sing\u2019s talents, there is only so much soup a person can eat before getting tired of it. A big juicy steak was still beyond Joe, but at least he could manage mince.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

On Paul\u2019s advice, Ben had drastically reduced the sleeping draught in Joe\u2019s coffee each night, and thankfully, the nightmares stayed away. Joe was still taciturn, his notes to the family scribbled and almost illegible, short and to the point.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What am I going to do if I never speak again?<\/em> Joe asked himself, daily. He knew that there were certain jobs on the ranch that he could still do \u2013 he could still break horses, although he liked to think that speaking was an integral part of his success. A soothing word was often enough to give a horse encouragement. But going on a round-up or cattle drive was clearly going to be out. It was essential to be able to shout to warn of danger, or a straying cow. He wouldn\u2019t be giving many orders, he reflected. Would he be stuck with doing the books all the time? To someone with as restless a nature as Joe, a desk job just seemed like the worst thing he could imagine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How much more time do I give myself before I have to make some kind of decision?<\/em> Joe wondered. His impatient nature demanded a decision at once, but another part of Joe told him that it was too soon. He was still recuperating. At length, he made a sort of decision. I\u2019ll wait until my ankle is better,<\/em> Joe thought. Then, I\u2019ll decide<\/em>.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As he lay down to sleep, he couldn\u2019t help but wonder if he could bring himself to leave his home.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

***************************<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A day or two later, Joe was slowly making his way down stairs for supper. He was no more than a step or two from the top when the door opened to admit Ben, Adam and Hoss. He waved and forced a smile, and continued to watch as they called a greeting to him and began to take off their gun belts. This was the time Joe hated most. This was when he would have to listen to them discussing what they had done all day and he would have nothing to contribute to the conversation. Absently, caught in his despairing thoughts, Joe moved the crutch down to the next step, without looking at what he was doing, and missed the step entirely.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With his balance gone, Joe groped wildly for the banister with his other hand and missed. He felt a shriek torn from his throat as he toppled down the stairs, to land with a thud in a crumpled heap on the landing.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cJoe!\u201d Ben leapt across the room and knelt by Joe\u2019s side. \u201cJoe, are you all right?\u201d he asked, seeing blood on his son\u2019s face where he had hit it on the railing of the landing.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was appalled when Joe began to laugh. Joe laughed so hard that he was soon gasping for air, mopping at the blood running from his nose, coughing and choking.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cJoe?\u201d Ben exchanged wordless glances with his other sons, wondering if Joe had somehow hurt himself very badly.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Still laughing, Joe grasped Ben\u2019s arm. Suddenly, his laughter died and changed into a hiccup, which caught on a sob. \u201cI\u2019m laughing,\u201d he whispered. \u201cI shouted when I fell. I can talk again.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was as though a dam had burst. Joe talked seemingly without a pause as he was picked up and carried over to the couch. After a time, his voice grew tired and Joe fell silent, but this time he had no fears that his voice wouldn\u2019t come back again. Somehow, he knew that he had come through the other side of his ordeal and was taking the last steps in his road to recovery. Even the painful bruise he would have on his face, as a result of his tumble down stairs, didn\u2019t depress him. Joe felt so high that he was quite surprised not to find himself floating near the ceiling.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The simple explanation was that the swelling on Joe\u2019s voice box had gradually been diminishing, and had that day just disappeared. But Joe had become so used to not talking, and was so depressed, that he had given up attempting to talk, resigning himself to life as a mute. Quite possibly, he might have been able to whisper for several days by then, but he wasn\u2019t aware of it. His throat didn\u2019t feel any different \u2013 it was no longer a chore to hold his head up and hadn\u2019t been for well over a week. It had become natural again and Joe never gave it another thought. He had been eating larger and larger pieces of food with less and less problem, again without noticing, because the improvement had been so gradual.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At length, exhausted by his euphoria, Joe slid into sleep. Ben belatedly realised that he hadn\u2019t washed to blood off Joe\u2019s face. He hurried to do just that, careful not to waken his sleeping son. Somehow, he knew that Joe would be all right; that he had come to terms with what had happened to him and he gave thanks to the Almighty that it was so.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care if they do say \u2018silence is golden\u2019,\u201d Ben told his other sons. \u201cI hope I never hear that kind of silence again.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The End<\/p>\n

As ever, thanks to my dear sister Claire for the title. What would I do without you, sis?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/g><\/svg><\/i> \"Loading\"<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0 How did Joe actually cope without a voice?\u00a0 This is set during my story ‘Guilty’.\u00a0 It would be advisable to read it first.<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 T\u00a0 (6,215 words)<\/p>\n

Guilty Series, links to all the stories within the series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":45,"featured_media":8478,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[23],"tags":[16],"class_list":["post-10823","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","tag-joe","wpcat-23-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":3702,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/LJshadow1.jpg?fit=720%2C576&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2162,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2162","url_meta":{"origin":10823,"position":0},"title":"Shelter (by pony)","author":"pony","date":"December 8, 2009","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0\u00a0Adam and Joe Cartwright are lost in a blizzard. Their only hope ... shelter. \u00a0 Rated:\u00a0K (1,390 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/bonanza31.jpg?fit=573%2C389&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/bonanza31.jpg?fit=573%2C389&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/bonanza31.jpg?fit=573%2C389&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":6529,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=6529","url_meta":{"origin":10823,"position":1},"title":"A Dark Night’s Tale (by the Tahoe Ladies)","author":"Tahoe Ladies","date":"November 4, 2002","format":false,"excerpt":"Joe hears things that 'bump' in the night.... Rated K \u00a0Word Count:\u00a0 1200","rel":"","context":"In "Humor"","block_context":{"text":"Humor","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=4"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Calamity-over-the-Comstock-8.jpg?fit=634%2C563&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Calamity-over-the-Comstock-8.jpg?fit=634%2C563&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Calamity-over-the-Comstock-8.jpg?fit=634%2C563&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":7668,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7668","url_meta":{"origin":10823,"position":2},"title":"Stampede (by DJK)","author":"DJK","date":"May 9, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0A cattle drive, a stampede, and one guilty Cartwright make for a simple little tale. \u00a0 Rated:\u00a0K+\u00a0 Word count:\u00a0 1211","rel":"","context":"In "Action\/Adventure"","block_context":{"text":"Action\/Adventure","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=2"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/01\/cattle-drive.jpg?fit=357%2C267&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":10754,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=10754","url_meta":{"origin":10823,"position":3},"title":"The Sound and the Fury (by sandspur)","author":"sandspur","date":"March 24, 2015","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: It's brother against brother, Cartwright style! Revenge is not a dish best served cold--it's best served to the sound of the cannon! Rating: K\u00a0 (1,160 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Humor"","block_context":{"text":"Humor","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=4"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Cannon-fire.jpg?fit=575%2C383&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Cannon-fire.jpg?fit=575%2C383&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Cannon-fire.jpg?fit=575%2C383&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":567,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=567","url_meta":{"origin":10823,"position":4},"title":"Death’s Letter S (by Karen)","author":"Karen","date":"April 17, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0 Joe plays a joke on Hoss. Rated:\u00a0K (1,330 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Humor"","block_context":{"text":"Humor","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=4"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Bankrun.jpg?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Bankrun.jpg?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Bankrun.jpg?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Bankrun.jpg?fit=768%2C576&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2396,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2396","url_meta":{"origin":10823,"position":5},"title":"A Travesty of Justice (by Dodo)","author":"Dodo","date":"April 6, 2008","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: WHN for The Quality Of Mercy....The trial of Seth Pruitt and its aftermath Word Count:\u00a0 25690\u00a0\u00a0Rated:\u00a0 T","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Resitution-Small.jpg?fit=720%2C480&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Resitution-Small.jpg?fit=720%2C480&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Resitution-Small.jpg?fit=720%2C480&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Resitution-Small.jpg?fit=720%2C480&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10823","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/45"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10823"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10823\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8478"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10823"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10823"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10823"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}