Summary: Not exactly a WHN for My Brother’s Keeper, but the action takes place after that story and involves some reflection on its events, as once again Adam finds himself pondering whether to move back East to a more “civilized” country.<\/p>\n
Rating: K+<\/p>\n
Word Count: 2,051<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Here in the West<\/strong><\/p>\n How could I even think of leaving?\u00a0 Nothing back East could compare with these majestic, snow-capped mountains that tower above a lake more dazzling than sapphire\u2014a perfect gem, fit for a monarch\u2019s crown.\u00a0 The vanilla fragrance of pine bark\u2014the scent of home\u2014wafts on the breeze that riffles the reflecting water into gentle waves.\u00a0 Overhead I hear the fluttering call of a mountain bluebird, more uplifting to my heart than the grandest operatic aria.\u00a0 The peace and serenity of this place surpasses that which I\u2019ve found anywhere else, and I\u2019ve seen enough of this country to be a fair judge.\u00a0 Yet only a few days ago I was prepared to toss it all aside.\u00a0 Oh, I\u2019ve left home before\u2014once for an extended span of years, as well as for briefer journeys, but I always knew I\u2019d come back.\u00a0 To leave now, for the reason I was contemplating, would have been more permanent\u2014perhaps even eternal.\u00a0 And yet I almost made that mistake\u2014and not for the first time.<\/p>\n The day began in such ordinary fashion.\u00a0 A trip to town for supplies\u2014routine, matter of fact, even boring. \u00a0Still, having my brother by my side always made for good companionship, even if the conversation was less than scintillating.\u00a0 He\u2019s not much for discussing politics or literature, and his idea of art is pretty much limited to the form of a shapely lady, draped in a bit of gauze, that hangs above the bar of the Silver Dollar.\u00a0 Or a horse running bareback and free across an open meadow.\u00a0 It doesn\u2019t matter, though; he\u2019s my brother, and it\u2019s good just to be with him.\u00a0 There is no one in whose company I feel more comfortable and content.<\/p>\n We conducted our business with dispatch\u2014usually the case when I\u2019m with him\u2014so I suggested we celebrate with an especially fine dinner at the Washoe Club, accompanied by a glass of shimmering ruby il\u00a0Vino di Ponderosa<\/em> from grapes grown by our neighbor, Georgio Rossi, on land that once was our own.\u00a0 I thought that might be the selling point to tip the balance, but no such luck.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d rather have a cold beer,\u201d my brother said, and I could scarcely deny him when he\u2019d done most of the work of loading the supplies, while I transacted business at the bank.\u00a0 Now I wish I\u2019d been more insistent on having my own way; then we wouldn\u2019t have been where we were when we were and\u2014mercy, what muddled babbling!\u00a0 And I said his conversation was less than scintillating?\u00a0 He\u2019s as profound as a professor, compared to me at times.<\/p>\n The fare at the Silver Dollar left much to be desired, in my opinion, but at least it came free with the price of the beer.\u00a0 Of course, we had to have a second one to wash down the intentional saltiness of the food, but neither of us considered that a problem.\u00a0 The cuisine may not have been what my educated palate would have preferred\u2014all right, it definitely wasn\u2019t\u2014but rarely have I enjoyed a meal more.\u00a0 He was in fine form that day and kept everyone around in stitches with his recitation of gossip he\u2019d picked up at the mercantile.<\/p>\n We were still laughing as he backed through the bat wings of the saloon just ahead of me.\u00a0 His laughter broke off abruptly, as his eyes widened with surprise.\u00a0 Then they went blank, and my brother sank down to the planked walkway in front of the Silver Dollar.\u00a0 My gun automatically slid from my holster as I cried out his name\u2014both actions pointless.\u00a0 Though I hadn\u2019t heard a second shot, the shooter himself lay sprawled in the street, no longer a risk, and my brother had passed into some misty realm beyond reach of my voice.<\/p>\n I dropped to his side, frantically working to stanch the blood that streamed through my fingers and dripped down through the cracks in the boards to the dirt beneath, all the time screaming his name louder and louder.\u00a0 Through a fog I saw Sheriff Coffee charging down the street, roughly pulling the man who had shot my brother to his feet.\u00a0 I spared one glance at him as Roy handcuffed him.\u00a0 No one I knew, but that wasn\u2019t too surprising.\u00a0 My brother\u2014both of them, for that matter\u2014knew more people in the territory than I did, for good or ill.\u00a0 He\u2019s just got a way about him that draws people to him, but which of them would want to hurt him?\u00a0 It was inconceivable.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam, Adam, let me have him,\u201d I heard someone say in my ear.\u00a0 Paul Martin.\u00a0 He\u2019s here?\u00a0 Not out delivering a baby somewhere, like last time?\u00a0 I stared at him in disbelief, although it wasn\u2019t until he spoke again that I realized I was doing it.\u00a0 \u201cAdam, move your hands, son,\u201d the doctor said softly, but firmly.\u00a0 I looked down and saw my hands, still pressed against the spurting wound, in the doctor\u2019s way.\u00a0 I lifted them, bloody palms out and held high, as if I were the culprit the sheriff were taking into custody.\u00a0 It was a trick of the mind, of course, but that\u2019s how I felt, as if I were the one responsible for my younger brother\u2019s plight.\u00a0 Call it the curse of the eldest if you will; I always feel responsible where my brothers are concerned.<\/p>\n Somehow we got him down to the doc\u2019s office and onto his examining table.\u00a0 Then I was banished to the waiting area and left alone with my thoughts.\u00a0 Such strange thoughts.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t help remembering the last time I\u2019d seen a bullet drop a brother.\u00a0 Different this time, thank God. Last time\u2014out by Montpelier Gorge\u2014I had only myself to rely on\u2014and only myself to blame.\u00a0 No guilt this time, except that confounded curse of the eldest, and plenty of hands to help.\u00a0 A good thing, too, since I don\u2019t think I could have hefted Hoss up the way I did Joe.\u00a0 Yes, it was a good thing that Joe was the one shot out there and Hoss the one struck down here in town.<\/p>\n I pressed the fingers of both hands into my temple, trying to squeeze the lunacy out of my thinking.\u00a0 It was as if I couldn\u2019t shake the maddening thought that it was inevitable for brothers to get shot.\u00a0 Why?\u00a0 The first response that trickled through my addled brain was the one I\u2019d voiced to dear old Sheila Reardon: because out here in the West, it\u2019s a jungle\u2014for animals, savages.\u00a0 The question isn\u2019t whether a brother will get shot; it\u2019s when and where.<\/p>\n Just that quickly I was back where I\u2019d been during those dreadful days of fighting for Joe\u2019s life, and I told myself again, as I had then, that once this was all over, I would head East on the first stage\u2014dragging my brothers and Pa with me, if possible\u2014and find a place where we could all live like decent human beings . . . or, at least, just live.<\/p>\n Roy came in sometime while I was entertaining those tortured thoughts, and I was able, for a few minutes, to displace them with the questions I fired at the lawman.\u00a0 Who was that man?\u00a0 What did he have against Hoss?\u00a0 What could anyone have against Hoss?\u00a0 Or was he merely a pawn in a plot to hurt some other Cartwright?\u00a0 Goodness knows, we\u2019ve faced that before!<\/p>\n The truth, when I finally gave Roy a chance to speak, only emphasized how crazy life really is here in the West.\u00a0 The shooter wasn\u2019t even aiming at Hoss\u2014or anyone else.\u00a0 My brother had been back shot by a drunk firing at random to express the exuberance of his high spirits\u2014emphasis on the spirits.\u00a0 And now my brother lay in that next room, with a wound that could well prove mortal, because some fool didn\u2019t have the sense to know when he\u2019d poured enough rotgut down his miserable throat.\u00a0 Inside my head the siren call of that stage headed East began to crescendo, and I was determined to answer it.<\/p>\n Another voice tried to argue against the siren, telling me that there was violence back East, too.\u00a0 It reminded me of places like the Five Points in New York City, where no man could walk safely after dark.\u00a0 The siren, however, insisted that a wise man could easily avoid such places, as he can steer clear of the Barbary Coast out here, but Hoss wasn\u2019t shot in some dark alley in a seedy part of town.\u00a0 He was struck down on Main Street in Virginia City.\u00a0 And all he did to put himself in danger was finish his lunch a little early\u2014or late; take your pick.\u00a0 A single moment made the difference, and here in the West peril can strike at any moment, without warning and beyond any wise man\u2019s ability to predict and prevent.<\/p>\n When the door to the examining room finally opened, I leaped to my feet.\u00a0 I suppose Paul must have sensed my anxiety, for he hurried to say, \u201cHe\u2019ll be all right.\u00a0 Touch and go for a while there and he lost a lot of blood, but he\u2019s strong.\u00a0 He\u2019ll make it, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n Roy slapped me on the back in congratulations.\u00a0 \u201cJust knew it.\u00a0 Ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 as puny as a stray bullet gonna keep that boy down.\u201d<\/p>\n I nodded perfunctorily, although we all know that even the smallest derringer ball has power enough to slay the biggest of men, if it hits just right.\u00a0 \u201cCan I see him?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cSoon,\u201d Paul promised.\u00a0 \u201cGive the chloroform a chance to wear off.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnything I can do for you, son?\u201d Roy asked as he moved toward the door.<\/p>\n \u201cGet me a stage schedule,\u201d I muttered and immediately bit my tongue.\u00a0 Whatever my plans might be, this wasn\u2019t the time or place to announce them.<\/p>\n Roy and Paul exchanged a worried glance, as if they both thought the stress had knocked out my underpinnings.\u00a0 Roy spoke softly and slowly, as he might have to a man whose sanity he had reason to question.\u00a0 \u201cI had in mind something like sending word to your pa, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n I pursed my lips, mostly to keep from saying anything else to raise their eyebrows, and nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll do it right away,\u201d Roy assured me and left.<\/p>\n With a comforting pat to my shoulder, Paul went back into the room with Hoss, and I sat down to wait.\u00a0 The minutes dragged by, but I don\u2019t think too many of them actually passed before the doctor told me I could go in.\u00a0 Eager as I was to see my brother, I entered cautiously, hesitant to disturb him.\u00a0 He, on the other hand, grinned broadly, as only he can, and reached toward me. \u00a0\u201cHey, Adam,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I felt a smile start to tickle my lips as I heard the same words with which Joe had greeted me when he finally woke from his fever dreams after that ghastly wolf attack.\u00a0 I took Hoss\u2019s hand, pleased to feel the warmth of his grasp, even if it wasn\u2019t as strong as usual.\u00a0 At that moment I knew, as I\u2019d known the minute Joe had spoken to me, that I wouldn\u2019t be going anywhere.\u00a0 I felt a little foolish about my wild swing of mood, more typical of Joe than me, but now that I\u2019ve had a few days to mull things over, I understand something about myself that I didn\u2019t before.<\/p>\n Twice now I\u2019ve determined to seek refuge back East, and I don\u2019t doubt that should Pa or Hoss or Joe be violently assailed another time I\u2019ll hear that siren call again.\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019ll be tempted to answer it, I\u2019m sure, but I know now that my refuge is not back East.\u00a0 It\u2019s here\u2014here in the West\u2014and while the songbirds back there may trill a prettier tune, the call of the mountain bluebird will always echo loudest in my ear.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The End<\/p>\n July, 2007<\/p>\n