Written for the 2016 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.<\/p>\n
Summary: \u00a0What if Ben hadn\u2019t seen Adam pulling Kane through the desert just before abandoning the search? And what if the only thing keeping Adam going\u2026stopped?<\/p>\n
Rated: \u00a0T\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Word count: \u00a05403<\/p>\n
Siren Song<\/strong><\/p>\n This was the tenth day. They\u2019d been riding since just before sunup, and if Ben was honest with himself, there were moments when he\u2019d been so exhausted he\u2019d forgotten exactly why they were out there. So Hoss\u2019s plea took a minute to reach his ears: \u201cPa, it\u2019s been two weeks since he left Eastgate.\u201d<\/p>\n He thought it over, but he couldn\u2019t concentrate long enough to come up with a good answer. Finally he settled for, \u201cYeah.\u201d His voice came out raspy, little more than a whisper. \u201cYeah, I s\u2019pose you\u2019re right. All right, let\u2019s go on back home.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe nodded, looking around one last time. He only saw what they had seen for the last ten days: rocks, half-scorched shrubs. A couple of patches of dead grass. No sign of another human being. He rode alongside his father and reached out a hand to steady the older man. \u201cCome on, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n They turned their horses back the way they had come.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n The dust they raised had not quite settled before a tall man appeared on the jagged horizon. Wearing a ripped-up, filthy white shirt and black pants, his hat long gone, he was dragging a travois. The ropes on the travois were cutting into his shoulders; the tall man stopped for a moment to adjust them, then he trudged forward again, mumbling to himself.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026High over the full-toned sea\/O hither, come hither and furl your sails\/Come hither to me and to me<\/em>\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n He seemed to see them, just as the just as the mariners of the poem did: sea fairies, spinning in the dust before his eyes. As he had conjured them, so had he conjured the water in which they frolicked: \u201cBetwixt the green brink and the running foam\/Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest\/To little harps of gold<\/em>\u2026\u201d His vision blurred. He blinked a few times, but still they swirled just in front of him, more energetically than before.<\/p>\n He crashed to the ground, the song still in his ears, and when the mule train found him a couple of hours later, the real world had been replaced in his mind by a world in which the sea fairies reigned.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Inger\u2019s store only carried five books, and they were all used; a few people coming through had offered them in trade for more urgent necessities, and Inger never had the heart to refuse them. People seldom bought books, though, so she was surprised when Ben Cartwright picked up one of them, looked through it, considered for a moment, and held out a coin, as he confided with a smile, \u201cIt\u2019s for Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you think he\u2019ll like it?\u201d Inger asked, looking doubtful. \u201cI don\u2019t understand some of the words. Will he?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I expect he will,\u201d Ben said, looking back at the leather-bound volume. Poems, Chiefly Lyrical<\/em>, by Alfred Tennyson. He\u2019d never spent so much on a book before, especially not on a used book, but somehow he was certain that the dollar had been well-spent. \u201cI\u2019ve been reading him poetry since he was born.\u201d<\/p>\n Within two days the boy had memorized \u201cNothing Will Die.\u201d But it was \u201cThe Sea Fairies\u201d that he asked Ben to read again and again, and somehow Tennyson\u2019s poetry was inextricably entwined in Adam\u2019s mind with his father\u2019s courtship of the lady who became \u201cMama Inger\u201d and later, simply \u201cMama.\u201d She was not a great reader, but she tried, for Adam\u2019s sake, to read the poetry to him too, and her lilting voice made up for any shortcomings in pronunciation. Adam found it nice to have a traveling partner after all those years of just him and Pa alone. There were some curious aspects to having her along\u2014all those strange noises she and Pa would make sometimes when it was late and Adam was trying to sleep\u2014but being a great cook covered a multitude of sins, and until Adam got sick again, he found the trip westward to be great fun.<\/p>\n When they were within sight of the Mississippi, though, the fever Adam had had before came upon him again. This time it was worse. Inger was fighting her own morning sickness; it did not help that Adam had just thrown up again, missing what he called the \u201cpuke bucket\u201d and spattering her apron. She smiled weakly and cleaned his mouth with a wet rag, then dipped it in the other bucket and wrung it out before putting it back to his forehead. \u201cMaybe you\u2019ll feel better now,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u2019m,\u201d he croaked. His eyes, reflected like gold in the flickering campfire, shone up at her, but he did not speak again.<\/p>\n \u201cYour pa will be back soon, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded and the silence hung over them like a cloud.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you know any sea stories?\u201d Adam\u2019s voice sounded like he had swallowed charcoal.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Adam, I don\u2019t. I\u2019ve never seen the sea.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut Pa said you came from\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy father came from over the sea.\u201d She had never quite got the hang of some sounds, though, so it came out like \u201cMy faddr came from over da tzee.\u201d She sighed, resolving to work on her accent; she wanted her sons to be able to understand her. \u201cI vas born here, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy was smiling faintly. \u201cI like the way you talk\u2026Mama Inger. Would you tell me a story from over the sea? A fairy tale?\u201d<\/p>\n Inger knew a few Swedish fairy tales. Most of them were not very nice, though: the devil and the Smalanders; those elves who killed nice young preachers\u2026Swedish fairies were a little more sinister than the gentle English ones. She cleared her throat and finally smiled. \u201cI will tell you a Svedish fairy tale, Ad\u2019m\u2026about a princess who married a lame dog.\u201d<\/p>\n He listened, enraptured as she described the toad, the wolf, and the lion who had tried to coax the princess away from her lame dog, and how she remained faithful through each temptation until at last the spell was broken and the lame dog became a handsome prince. He was asleep before she got to the \u201chappily ever after,\u201d and for a change, he slept through the night.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n They were a group of Mormon traders on their way from Salt Lake City to Sacramento. \u201cOne\u2019s dead, and one\u2019s halfway there,\u201d Lehigh Fitch pronounced, looking up from the two men they\u2019d discovered.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll take care of them accordingly,\u201d Joe Wright said.<\/p>\n They buried the one and nursed the other as best they could: water and beef broth for nourishment, and ginger syrup for the stomach upset\u2026but when he finally came round, they had no idea what to do with him, for he could not tell them who he was. In fact, he could tell them little of anything. He was sun-blind, unable to see much of anything. While he spoke English, his words were all a frenzied jumble about gold and games, fairies and frogs, slaves, beasts, and the need to kill and the need not to kill. Everything he said was punctuated by wild-eyed stares directed at some beast or frog or fairy they could not see. The mule team they were driving seemed to make him even more frantic\u2014every mule he saw rated the scream \u201cEpicene!\u201d and an attempt to shield it from something, whether whip or gunfire or flying dragon, they could not tell. As Joe Wright declared, \u201cNothing the man says makes a lick of sense.\u201d<\/p>\n Although their caravan had come through Eastgate\u2014they had even heard the story a few towns over, of the two outlaws who arrived in Salt Flats with a large sum of cash, who had shot up the town before in turn being shot up themselves\u2014nobody had heard about the man they had robbed and left horseless in the midst of nowhere. So the Mormons had nodded sympathetically to the townspeople and murmured about the wages of sin; then they had gone on their way. But when they found the man in the desert, and tried to do right by him, he was clearly not right in the head, and all they could see was that he was slowing them down.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s skittish,\u201d Moroni Smith observed. \u201cWorse than a yearling colt. Always trying to escape. He\u2019s stealing water every chance he gets. And why does he insist on eating with his hands?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd that business about the fairies,\u201d muttered Joe Wright. \u201cWhither away, whither away?<\/em> Where\u2019s he getting that from?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cForget the poetry,\u201d Lehigh Fitch said. \u201cForget his own nerves\u2014he\u2019s makin\u2019 the mules as skittish as he is. It\u2019s the mules that worry me. He\u2019s always trying to set them free\u2014and that\u2019s going to get us all killed. We\u2019ve got to get shed of him.\u201d<\/p>\n As it happened, they were passing through the land of a young man named Michael Fallon, who was the sole resident within nearly fifty miles in any direction. Fallon had offered them his hospitality\u2014he also owned the only water for nearly fifty miles in any direction\u2014and shelter, but after their quick meeting, the Mormon leaders decided there was only one thing they really wanted from him. \u201cYou need a farmhand?\u201d they asked innocently. \u201cBrother, the Lord has provided. Our friend John, the big fellow yonder asleep so peaceful, is in need of occupation.\u201d<\/p>\n With that, they left the stranger with Fallon. Four days later, they arrived in Carson City, where the big news was that one Adam Cartwright, eldest son of the most prominent rancher in the area, had disappeared and was presumed dead. But the Adam Cartwright they heard described\u2014quiet, bookish, even-tempered, perhaps a little moody, but generally a well-respected fellow\u2014was so little like the raving stranger they had found in the desert that it never occurred to them to make the connection.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n The snow had barely melted when they joined the wagon train, and the ground was a gloppy mess of boot-sucking, viciously cold mud. But the fires still needed wood, and all the men and boys remaining were assigned to bringing it in. Three men, the leaders of the wagon train, had gone off to scout the trail for the upcoming day\u2019s ride; Ben Cartwright was among them. When enough firewood had been brought in that the boys were released, Inger found Adam huddled under the wagon, rubbing his stiff fingers.<\/p>\n \u201cWill you sit with me by the fire, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will if you tell me a story, Mama,\u201d Adam said with the bargaining tone of a horse trader. \u201cI\u2019ve been helping the other boys chop firewood. See my hands?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you are a giant icicle,\u201d Inger muttered, rubbing Adam\u2019s red, rigid fingers with hers. \u201cCome and sit by the campfire before you\u2019re frostbitten, and I will tell you the story of Crow-Cloak.\u201d<\/p>\n They sat down near the blessed warmth and Inger told Adam about the poor girl forced by her family to live in the ash bin until she was befriended by a mountain troll. The troll dressed Crow-Cloak in fancy dresses of gold and silver and sent her off to church each week, but she always had to hurry home before her wicked people came back. One day she left the church in such a hurry that she stepped in tar and left a shoe behind\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve heard this one,\u201d Adam said. \u201cBut you\u2019re wrong, Mama; her name wasn\u2019t Crow-Cloak. It was Cinderella. And it wasn\u2019t church\u2014it was a ball. And it wasn\u2019t a mountain troll\u2014it was a fairy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think the fairies in England must be much nicer than the ones in Sweden.\u201d Inger pulled Adam onto her lap. \u201cDid you get your feet wet?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot very much.\u201d<\/p>\n She sighed\u2014Adam\u2019s \u201cnot very much\u201d usually meant \u201cyes, a lot\u201d\u2014and untied his boots, removing his socks and laying them across a couple of the stones that ringed the fire. Then she began to rub his half-frozen, clammy feet. Adam watched with detached interest, but after a moment he looked up at her.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, I\u2019ve seen you do this for Pa, but how come you\u2019re doing it for me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it\u2019s what mamas do,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u201cI remember Pa used to rub my feet sometimes when I was little and they were cold,\u201d Adam said thoughtfully. \u201cBut I\u2019m five now. Nearly six. He doesn\u2019t do it anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe would if he was here. He\u2019s off with the men right now, though.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. He\u2019s gone a lot. But don\u2019t worry, Mama, I\u2019ll take care of you when he\u2019s not here. Pa\u2019s always been gone a lot, so I\u2019m used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam\u2026\u201d There was a gentle reproach in Inger\u2019s tone. \u201cYour papa doesn\u2019t want to be gone from you. And he\u2019s always with you, even when you can\u2019t see him.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy\u2019s dark eyes flicked away from her. \u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t believe me?\u201d<\/p>\n One shoulder moved. \u201cPa told me that too. Now you\u2019re gonna have a baby soon, and what if Pa tells that baby the same things he tells me? Then how can he be with both of us at the same time?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour papa has a big heart. If he had a dozen boys, there would still be enough of him to be with all of you. And\u2026\u201d she smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s true with me, also.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked back at her. \u201cHis heart\u2019s with you too?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat, yes, but also, my heart is with you even when you can\u2019t see me.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam said nothing, but his hazel eyes stayed on her for a long time. When his socks were dry, she forced the stiff wool back over his feet and tied his boots back on.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019member the Sea Fairies?\u201d he asked suddenly.<\/p>\n \u201cHow can I forget?\u201d She smiled. \u201cYou make your father recite it all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you know it too?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI certainly ought to; I\u2019ve heard it enough.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSay it to me, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam wasn\u2019t really a cuddly boy; Inger was always half-surprised when he allowed her to hold him on her lap, but now he leaned against her, his head against her shoulder, and put his hand in hers as she began, \u201cSlow sail’d the weary mariners and saw\/Betwixt the green brink and the running foam\/Sweet faces, rounded arms<\/em>\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cWhither away, whither away<\/em>\u2026\u201d the man mumbled as he worked. He was chained to the millstone he and Fallon were working on, not because Fallon wanted to keep him enslaved so much as Fallon\u2019s discovery, shortly after the Mormons left\u2014which had been while \u201cJohn\u201d was still asleep\u2014that the man was as nutty as a pecan tree. On waking, he had loosed both Fallon\u2019s mules and shouted \u201cEpicene, you must flee!\u201d Fortunately for Fallon, the mules were more afraid of the stranger than they were eager to take advantage of their freedom. They trotted to Fallon\u2019s house and brayed until he came out to get them. While returning them to the barn, Fallon had discovered John stealing his rifle and canteen.<\/p>\n \u201cMister, are you plain crazy?\u201d Fallon demanded. \u201cAin\u2019t nothing but desert in any direction, and if you don\u2019t know where you\u2019re goin\u2019, you\u2019ll die sure as shoes pinch.\u201d<\/p>\n But John only looked at him, said, \u201cNo civilized man would kill you\u201d\u2014and headed west. Fallon found him the next morning, not having made a mile before stopping to draw funny-looking winged harpists in the sand.<\/p>\n After a day of wrestling with the strange man called John, Fallon let him go free, but then found him pounding round pegs into the cracks in the barn wall and murmuring, \u201cboom.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat does it,\u201d he muttered, taking a chunk of firewood and walloping the man across the back with it, then sitting atop him to tie his hands and feet together.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cOut of the live-green heart of the dells\/They freshen the silvery-crimson shells\/ And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells\/High over the full-toned sea<\/em>\u2026\u201d Adam mumbled. He was walking alongside the wagon, his little brother strapped to his chest in an Indian-like papoose carrier, which hurt his back. His shoulders felt as if they were coming out of the sockets\u2014Hoss was not a particularly little <\/em>little brother. But Mrs. Friedman was driving the wagon, and loaded as it was, there was no way for him and Hoss to ride inside; at least, not after Pa rode off and left them and Mrs. Friedman put her own children in. She said Adam made her nervous to ride with them. Mrs. Friedman had three little girls, and they didn\u2019t make her nervous, so they rode with her instead, even though they could have ridden with Mr. Friedman, whose wagon had room enough for all of them. But Mr. Friedman was usually half soused (that\u2019s what Mrs. Friedman said), so maybe that explained it.<\/p>\n But it wasn\u2019t fair. If Inger hadn\u2019t gotten hit by that arrow, she\u2019d be driving the wagon, and she would let Adam sit on the seat with Hoss in his lap. And she would tell him stories, and smile at him, and rub his cold feet and hands. They seemed to stay cold nowadays. Like his heart. Pa didn\u2019t like it when Adam cried. He said Hoss cried enough for them all. And besides, Hoss was a baby, and it was all right for babies to cry. Not for big boys, though. At six, Adam didn\u2019t feel that big anymore, though, and the burning in his eyes began to liquefy and overflow. A fat tear slid down his face, followed by another, and as Hoss looked up with Inger\u2019s blue eyes, Adam whispered, \u201cShe said her heart would be with us, Hoss. Do you feel it? \u2019Cause I sure don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss did not reply. Mrs. Friedman looked back and snapped, \u201cCan\u2019t you keep up? We\u2019re barely moving faster than an oxcart as it is!\u201d<\/p>\n Adam choked back the tears and walked faster.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Once again he was trussed like a roasting hen, but this time there seemed to be a purpose to it. With great difficulty, Fallon hoisted him into the small wagon and hitched up the mule.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere are you taking me?\u201d he asked Fallon as they drove deep into the desert.<\/p>\n \u201cFort Churchill,\u201d came the terse reply. \u201cI sure\u2019s sin can\u2019t keep yer.\u201d<\/p>\n It came over him then: \u201cIt was all a game, you know, just a game. Kane, he made me play it, and somehow I just didn\u2019t know how to stop playing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know who or what you\u2019re talkin\u2019 about, John, but you tried to blow my barn up usin\u2019 wooden pegs. What kinder sane guy does that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid I do that?\u201d he racked his brain and the memory sledge-hammered into him. \u201cHe made me. Kane. He made me put dynamite in the crevices\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou keep sayin\u2019 Kane like he\u2019s yer own personal Satan.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think he is. What happened to him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI dunno, I keep tellin\u2019 ya. You came to my place with a bunch of Latter Day Saints, not Satan. They said you wanted a job. But from the time you woke up you been tryin\u2019 to make off with my mule or\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut that was Kane! He killed Epicene\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister, I dunno what yer talkin\u2019 about, so do me a kindness and just quitcher talkin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFort Churchill\u2019s an army post.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is that,\u201d Fallon said. Of course, he didn\u2019t say that the post hospital\u2014a big one\u2014also contained a ward for people who were sick in the head. He had a feeling that John wouldn\u2019t start making more sense if he knew he was headed for a madhouse.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cAdam\u2026\u201d the voice was whispered, but well remembered. He looked up through his own blurred vision and saw eyes as blue and bright as Lake Tahoe.<\/p>\n \u201cMama?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam\u2026\u201d the apparition seemed hesitant. \u201cBe careful, son. Do you remember what I told you about Swedish fairies?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re not nice\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot all fairies are nice, Adam. Some of them are worse than Kane.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cKane! Kane!\u201d<\/p>\n Sergeant O\u2019Malley\u2019s eyes widened as the man continued to shout out in his sleep.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s he all worked up about?\u201d O\u2019Malley asked.<\/p>\n \u201cBeats me,\u201d Fallon said. \u201cBut if it ain\u2019t been fairies, it\u2019s been Kane, ever since he come to. He ain\u2019t right in the head. He\u2019s been trying to hurt himself or my mules from the time he woke up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I reckon we\u2019d best take him.\u201d<\/p>\n The sergeant directed two burly privates to take the unwilling passenger out of the wagon and hustle him up to the hospital. But the man awoke, so it ended up taking four.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cAdam\u2026\u201d Again the soft voice in his head. Better than the ones all around him, at least: in this big room were at least twenty people, their feet stumbling, their hands fumbling, their mouths mumbling. Some of them drooled; some laughed or cried unaccountably. A few tried to take their clothes off, but the men in dirty white uniforms were always there to beat them when they did such things.<\/p>\n \u201cMama? Mama, I\u2019m in a bad place\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know, son. I\u2019m going to stay with you, and keep you safe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow can you do that? You died\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd I told you I\u2019d still be with you even then. Remember?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have a big heart\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. But listen to me. If they see you talking to me, they\u2019ll keep you in this place. And if you keep talking to Kane, they\u2019ll keep you here, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut he\u2019s after me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI won\u2019t let him hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n He closed his eyes. Ghosts didn\u2019t protect people from other ghosts, did they? Ghosts didn\u2019t exist, right? So he was only imagining Inger. And he was a man, right? Or was he still a boy, tearfully following after Mrs. Friedman?<\/p>\n He retreated to the safety of the sea fairies. \u201cFor here are the blissful downs and dales\/And merrily, merrily carol the gales\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cAdam\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd the spangle dances in bight and bay\/And the rainbow forms and flies on the land\/Over the islands free;<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam, don\u2019t talk to them\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand\/Hither, come hither and see<\/em>\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam, stop!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut Mama, the sea fairies always\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey always kept you from going home, Adam. They\u2019re not nice. They\u2019ll always keep you here, if you let them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n It was more than a fellow\u2014even one who\u2019d already been crushed by time and chance\u2014could take.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cWhy\u2019s that one feller sitting off in the corner hugging himself?\u201d the doctor asked.<\/p>\n \u201cDunno,\u201d said the orderly. \u201cThey brought him in yesterday, all feisty and yellin\u2019 about somebody named Kane. But this mornin\u2019 he wouldn\u2019t say a word, and he\u2019s bin like\u2019at ever since.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m more sorry\u2019n I can say, Ben.\u201d Roy Coffee blinked and looked away. \u201cAllus liked Adam, y\u2019know. More\u2019n once he was a help to me. Occasionally a hindrance too.\u201d He smiled a little. \u201cOne a\u2019 the smartest fellers I ever knowed.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben Cartwright shrugged. \u201cRoy, you didn\u2019t come all the way out here to tell me this; you said you didn\u2019t know about it until you met Little Joe outside. So what are you here for?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt don\u2019t hardly seem to matter now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d still like to know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell\u2026\u201d Roy sighed. \u201cI\u2019m goin\u2019 out on a prisoner detail, and I was hopin\u2019 to get a couple of strong, hefty fellers to go along with me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou want Hoss to go with you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I did. Obviously I ain\u2019t gonna ask that now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo\u2026no,\u201d Ben said. \u201cYou might as well take him. We\u2019re none of us any good right now, but moping around here won\u2019t do anything. I have business to conduct and a memorial service to plan; Joe\u2019s busy too, but right now Hoss doesn\u2019t have anything to do, and he\u2019s spending too much time brooding.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou sure, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes\u2014I think it would be best for Hoss. I\u2019ll talk to him. How long will you be gone?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAbout four days. Goin\u2019 out to Fort Churchill.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n On the way back to Virginia City, Roy provided an explanation. \u201cHis wife wrote him that she\u2019d lost the baby they was gonna have. Now he woulda got leave if he\u2019d asked, I\u2019m pretty sure. But he didn\u2019t ask. Plumb went out of his head with grief; knocked his platoon commander on his hindermost, and grabbed a horse and rode off. And to make matters worse, he never went back. Not only that, but when I tried to talk him into goin\u2019 back nicely, he knocked me on my hindermost, too. The girl\u2019s father done wrote a letter explainin\u2019 what happened, but he\u2019s in bad health and can\u2019t ride so he can\u2019t go back with him. The girl nearly died, so she ain\u2019t fit to go nowhere either. And Cooper\u2014Tom Cooper\u2019s the feller\u2019s name\u2014don\u2019t wanna leave her. He\u2019s in trouble already, and if he\u2019s gone over thirty days, they\u2019ll have him for desertion\u2014and that<\/em> is a hangin\u2019 offense if they decide he\u2019s guilty. But I\u2019m hopin\u2019 between me and the father-in-law\u2019s letter we\u2019ll be able to convince \u2019em to take the mitigatin\u2019 circumstances into account. Only I\u2019m pretty sure he\u2019s gonna get rowdy and try to leave before we can get him back\u2014and that\u2019s why I need you and Bo Hansen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t think I ever heard you make such a long speech before,\u201d Hoss said with a weak smile.<\/p>\n \u201cHuh,\u201d said Roy, but getting the notion that Hoss wasn\u2019t in the mood for speeches right now anyway, he said nothing else.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n The man they called John was sitting on the straw-covered floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, his back pressed back into the corner of his cell. They\u2019d put him in isolation after he\u2019d gotten into a fight\u2014they knew the other fellow had hit him first, but the other fellow had also stopped when the orderlies ordered them to break it up. This fellow hadn\u2019t stopped, so he\u2019d gotten a beating and a five-day isolation sentence. The bowl next to him, half-full of some unidentifiable brown glop, was untouched.<\/p>\n \u201cStill not talking?\u201d the orderly asked, coming in. \u201cNor eating, neither? You\u2019ve gotta be hungry by now.\u201d<\/p>\n John just looked up at him with an air of dismissal.<\/p>\n \u201cYou won\u2019t talk to me either? You\u2019re pretty uppity for a guy that don\u2019t know what a chair\u2019s for. Well, come on, get up\u2014it\u2019s your lucky day. We need the cell for a new idiot, so you get to go back with the rowdies.\u201d<\/p>\n John dropped his chin back to his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs, his eyes shut.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, fella, I know you understand me. Come on, get up. You may be crazy, but you\u2019re not too stupid to know I can bring in four other fellas and move you someplace even dirtier than this one.\u201d<\/p>\n Never taking his eyes off the orderly, John came to his feet, but stayed in the corner.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, I ain\u2019t got all day. Let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI told you\u2014back to the common room. Don\u2019t start any fights this time, and you might not have to come back here again.\u201d He took John\u2019s arm and tugged. \u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n John allowed himself to be pulled to the door, but something stopped him there. \u201cDon\u2019t make me take a stick to you!\u201d the orderly snapped.<\/p>\n And then a voice behind him said, \u201cYou try, and it\u2019ll be the last time you take a stick to anybody.\u201d<\/p>\n The orderly whirled to see a sheriff and two fellows, each the size of a bull, looking at him. \u201cMister, I don\u2019t ordinarily tell a man how to do his job,\u201d said the sheriff. \u201cBut this here feller ain\u2019t fightin\u2019 you, so there ain\u2019t no need to get\u2026\u201d his voice trailed off and he stared at John. Then one of the bull-sized fellows behind him gasped.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t care who you say he is,\u201d the hospital commander said. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t know who he is, and he can\u2019t interact with other people except by fighting. He was brought here\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBy a next-of-kin?\u201d Roy asked sweetly. \u201c\u2019Cause as I understand it, you can\u2019t commit a fellow as insane unless the next-of-kin does it.\u201d<\/p>\n A somewhat raspy voice spoke up for the first time. \u201cI know who I am.\u201d All eyes turned to the speaker, and he swallowed. \u201cMy name is Adam Cartwright. That\u2026\u201d he pointed. \u201cThat\u2019s my baby brother. Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI told him you knew me,\u201d Hoss said, Inger\u2019s bright blue eyes shining from his round face. \u201cI told him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course I know you.\u201d Adam\u2019s voice was faint. \u201cI carried you halfway across the country.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss threw his arms around his \u201cbig\u201d brother and lifted him off the floor.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben was staring, unfocused, at a half-full sheet of paper. In uncharacteristically shaky handwriting was the list:<\/p>\n Psalm 23<\/em><\/p>\n See Gentle Patience Smiles on Pain<\/em><\/p>\n Amazing Grace<\/em><\/p>\n Eulogy by Roy Coffee<\/em><\/p>\n Eulogy by Joseph F Cartwright<\/em><\/p>\n Eulogy by<\/em><\/p>\n He grunted and laid the pen aside, then crumpled the sheet of paper and began again just as the door burst open.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Late that night Hoss and Joe finally gave up and went to bed; conversation had run out a while back anyway, and emotional peaks like the ones from that day were exhausting. But Adam and Ben were still sitting in their chairs next to the low-burning fire, the room still lit by six powerful oil lamps. So different, Adam reflected, from the utter blackness of the nights on the trail with Ben and Inger, when the campfire provided the only light.<\/p>\n Adam cleared his throat. \u201cPa, do you remember that Tennyson poem I used to recite all the time?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben smiled. \u201cWhich one? You had books full.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe Sea Fairies<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, my.\u201d Ben took out his pipe and began packing it thoughtfully. \u201cHaven\u2019t heard that one in more than twenty years.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut you remember it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not likely I\u2019d forget, not when you had Inger and me recite it all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut\u2026\u201d Adam drew one knee up to his chest, half in thought, half in protection. \u201cYou never told me. The fairies\u2026they were like the Sirens in the Odyssey, weren\u2019t they? They never wanted the sailors to go home. They never let them go. You must have known that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know that I did.\u201d Ben reached for a match. \u201cI never gave it that much thought. Besides, you wouldn\u2019t have believed it anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe not then. But I know it now. And they nearly did keep me from coming ho\u2014I mean, reciting that poem nearly did keep me from coming home. Not all fairies are nice, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben chuckled. \u201cThat\u2019s a different perspective than I\u2019m used to. How did you come up with that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust something\u2026Inger told me once. A long, long time ago,\u201d Adam said, remembering Kane, who had been something of a siren himself\u2014promising rescue, but only keeping him from going home. One of Inger\u2019s evil Scandinavian fairies, he supposed.<\/p>\n \u201cI still can\u2019t believe they put you in that\u2026that madhouse.\u201d Looking at his pipe rather than at Adam, Ben went on in a faintly puzzled tone, \u201cI\u2019ve always wondered what I\u2019d do if ever I were\u2026institutionalized. After all, how does a man prove he isn\u2019t mad?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam briefly considered telling Ben about Inger\u2019s help, but decided that might only land him back at Fort Churchill. He looked at his hands instead. \u201cIn my case, I couldn\u2019t prove it. I think I did go off my head\u2026for a time, at least. I\u2019m still not sure what happened to Kane, the man who captured me; I think he must have finally died, but at least I didn\u2019t kill him. But as for me\u2026all I could think of was the Sea Fairies. I must have recited that poem a thousand times as a child walking westward; somehow I started reciting it again carrying Kane through the desert. But the state I was in, the fairies became too real, and so did the dangers of Kane. It wasn\u2019t until I recognized Hoss that I even remembered who I was and where I belonged.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank God for that,\u201d Ben murmured, puffing his pipe.<\/p>\n \u201cFor seeing Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben smiled. \u201cFor remembering where you belong.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The End<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Words drawn: \u00a0skittish, Inger, campfire, fairy, madhouse<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Angst,<\/p>\n