{"id":6397,"date":"2009-06-13T16:05:47","date_gmt":"2009-06-13T20:05:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=6397"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:13:26","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:13:26","slug":"thoughts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=6397","title":{"rendered":"Thoughts (by pkmoonshine)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0<\/strong>What goes through the mind and hearts of a father and two of his sons as they stand together before the grave a man much loved, and taken from them much too soon?\u00a0 Warning … character death.<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0K+ \u00a0(1,900 words)<\/p>\n

I\u2019d like to thank another writer, dbird, for sharing with me and others the existence of a site called \u201cWrite Or Die,\u201d which bills itself as a cure for writers\u2019 block.\u00a0 Writing under the gun worked well for me in this instance because this story came out of doing an exercise on that site.<\/p>\n

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are property of their respective owners.\u00a0 The original characters and plot are property of the author. \u00a0\u00a0The author is not in any way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, and makes no money from this work.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No copyright infringement is intended.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Thoughts<\/strong><\/p>\n

It was a gorgeous day.\u00a0 The sky overhead was a bright blue, the same bright blue as the eyes of the beloved son now lying in the closed pine box resting on the grown before his grave, newly dug.\u00a0\u00a0 His bereaved father and two brothers, one older, the other younger, stood together in a semi-circle around the foot of the coffin, each lost in his own thoughts . . . .<\/p>\n

The father saw this son once more as a baby, barely three hours old, lying in the arms of his mother, his belly full of the milk from her generous breast, sleeping peacefully under the watchful gaze of a pair of bright blue eyes the same color as his own.\u00a0\u00a0 He saw again the man into which the babe had grown, as he had been the very last time he laid eyes upon him, standing every bit as tall, and big, as the mountains surrounding his beloved home.\u00a0\u00a0 Those bright blue eyes sparkled with the sheer joy of simply being alive, and his lips has parted to reveal that warm hearted, gap-toothed smile of his.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I wouldn\u2019t give to see those eyes, that smile once again,\u201d<\/em> the grief-stricken father silently lamented, his heart breaking anew.\u00a0\u00a0 Or hear his big son\u2019s laughter, louder than the roar of a waterfall, and very contagious.<\/p>\n

A parade of images passed before the father\u2019s eyes . . . .<\/p>\n

. . . that great big, gentle son of his sitting up all night out in the barn, waiting for a mare to foal \u2026 tending to the needs of a sick horse \u2026 binding up the broken wing of a song bird \u2026 and gently tending to a litter of frightened, starving barn kittens, a few days old, after their mother had been killed by a neighbor\u2019s dog . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . the boy, always big for his age, seated at the dining room table working out a difficult arithmetic problem, with his older brother looking on, giving him guidance \u2026 lying in bed, with his face buried deep into his down pillow, weeping in secret after having spent a long day enduring the merciless, sometimes cruel teasing of his peers because of his large size \u2026 and he saw that big boy of his, this time through the eyes of his much younger brother, gazing with adoration and gratitude into the face of his hero, who had just put to flight a group of older, bigger boys who took a great, sadistic delight in picking on children much younger and smaller . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . that same big, strong, gentle man standing over the grave of a young woman who had been the love of his life, who had returned his love measure for measure, with his head bowed, weeping openly, without shame . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

The pictures, images and memories that now belonged to the past, faded and dissolved under a flood of new tears, as the father wondered yet again how a man could possibly endure such agonizing pain, and still live.<\/p>\n

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

The older brother stood a little apart from his father and youngest brother, his broken heart consumed with guilt.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Inger,\u201d he whispered, unaware that he had spoken out loud, \u201cI\u2019m \u2026 so \u2026 very sorry . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

He was a boy once again, all of six years old, standing next to his father staring at the rough hewn cross marking the final resting place of the woman, who had not so long ago, taken him into her heart, loving him every bit as much as the son, who had issued forth from her own body.\u00a0\u00a0 The other men, women, and children, who had traveled with them from St. Louis, had quietly returned to their wagons, to allow a shocked, grief stricken husband and his two sons a few private moments to say good-bye.<\/em><\/p>\n

He left his father\u2019s side and walked over to the cross, whose shadow fell upon the freshly turned earth covering the lifeless body of one Inger Borgstrom Cartwright the way a jagged, angry scar oft times indelibly marks the site of a wound that has gone very deep.\u00a0\u00a0 He knelt down before that<\/em> cross and gently place the handful of wild field flowers, freshly picked and now half wilted, before its base.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMama, I promise you \u2026 I\u2019ll look after Hoss for you,\u201d he solemnly promised with tears streaming down his face once again, \u201cand I\u2019ll look after PA, too.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI failed you, Mama,\u201d the elder brother wept bitterly, \u201cand I failed Hoss, too.\u00a0\u00a0 Had I been there . . . Dear God, if . . . if ONLY I had been there— \u201d<\/p>\n

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

The youngest brother, his face white as a sheet, fixed his emerald green eyes upon the simple, rough hewn pine box, holding the earthy remains of the man who had been to him big brother, hero, and best friend in the whole wide world.\u00a0\u00a0 He felt as if he had dropped down into the tunnel of a very long, narrow, deep well.\u00a0\u00a0 The golden sunlight shimmering on the deep blue water of the lake behind him, the cool, gentle breezes wafting through the canopy of tree branches high over head, the warmth of his father standing right beside him, seemed very far distant.<\/p>\n

The events of that horrible last day once again unfolded, playing themselves out upon the inward eyes of heart, mind, and soul with brutal crystal clarity.\u00a0\u00a0 It began like any other day, with the family gathered together for breakfast, laughing and joking with each other amid Hop Sing\u2019s terse admonitions to \u201ceat NOW, while it\u2019s still hot,\u201d and working out their plans for the day.\u00a0\u00a0 There was nothing, not even the slightest inkling of the tragedy soon to unfold.<\/p>\n

Squeezing his eyes tight shut against his surroundings, blotting out the sad, and in his mind, accusing faces of his father and eldest brother, he watched the events unfold for what had to be the millionth time, desperately searching for something \u2026 anything that would exonerate him, but much to his grief and despair, found nothing.\u00a0\u00a0 He held his older brother clasped tight in his arms, and watched as the light, the sparkle, and life in those great big blue eyes dimmed and within minutes faded altogether, numb with shock, horror, and utter disbelief.<\/p>\n

If he could but have one wish, it would be to change places with Hoss.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMY fault,\u201d<\/em> he silently, angrily castigated himself.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s all MY fault.\u00a0\u00a0 If ONLY . . . if I hadn\u2019t—\u00a0\u00a0 Hoss would still be alive.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 By all rights, HE was the one who should be in that pine box lying between the open grave and white marble that marked the resting place of his own mother, now many years dead.<\/p>\n

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

The father and his two remaining sons watched as their foreman, Hank Carlson, and a half dozen big men, set themselves to the task of lowering the coffin containing the remains of the young man who had worked along side them, who had many times over earned their admiration and respect, who had in many ways been to them more of a friend than the son of the man for whom they worked.\u00a0\u00a0 After their task was complete, and the grave filled in and smoothed over, he shook each man\u2019s hand and with gratitude offered a simple, \u201cthank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a time, the three men remained, lost in their own thoughts, and grief.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d the youngest ventured hesitantly.\u00a0\u00a0 He closed his eyes, sickened by the terrible burden of guilt now crushing his heart, unable to bear seeing the reproach, the anger that must surely be in his father\u2019s face and eyes.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPa,\u201d he half sobbed, \u201cI \u2026 I\u2019m sorry, I . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe \u2026 and you, too Adam \u2026 what happened was an ACCIDENT \u2026 and there was nothing \u2026 absolutely nothing ANY of us could have done to prevent \u2026 to prevent what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was no reproach in their father\u2019s voice, no anger.\u00a0\u00a0 Only love, infinite patience, and perhaps the edge of a desperate prayer that his two remaining sons would finally hear what he had said to them countless times since their brother\u2019s sudden, tragic, untimely demise, and finally take it to heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour brother \u2026 and my son \u2026 you know as well as I do that he \u2026 that h-his heart was bigger than all outdoors,\u201d their father continued, his voice tremulous.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019d give a man in need the v-very shirt off his back.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe \u2026 son \u2026 he gave his life to save yours because \u2026 because he loved you so much, he wanted you to live, no matter what the cost.\u00a0\u00a0 And, Adam . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

The eldest looked up expectantly, though he made no verbal reply.<\/p>\n

\u201c \u2026 as I recall, HE was the one who suggested taking your place that day because \u2026 because he loved YOU, and \u2026 and he knew how important that meeting was f-for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI— \u201d the eldest gasped, then quickly looked away, wiping his eyes against the heel of his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI \u2026 I d-don\u2019t think he\u2019d m-mind us grieving, but at the same time I-I know he\u2019d expect the three of us to f-find healing \u2026 to reach the day when we c-can finally remember him with a smile \u2026 even laughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c \u2026 uhhh, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u00a0\u00a0 For all the stuff I said.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, too, Joe.\u00a0\u00a0 I h-had no right to blame you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two younger men embraced fiercely, and clung to one another as if for dear life.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Boys,\u201d their father said, at length, placing a gentle hand on each son\u2019s shoulder.\u00a0\u00a0 There was the bare hint of a smile amid the older man\u2019s tears, the first since that day.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019ll be dark soon.\u00a0\u00a0 We need to be getting on home.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

From his place in the deepest of deep shadows, a big, strong, and gentle man, with eyes the same deep blue as the sky, watched the father and his two sons as they turned left the grave of their beloved son and brother.\u00a0\u00a0 A big gapped toothed smile illumined his face, and he slowly nodded his head with approval.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYep,\u201d he mused softly, his thoughts and words gently stirring the breezes in and among the tall pine trees from whence this beautiful, much loved home<\/em> of his had taken her name.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYep \u2026 everything\u2019s gonna be all right.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Finis \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0June 2009<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Such a sad but beautiful story. \u00a0In my own little world, I always pretend that Hoss never died, but you did a beautiful job with portraying what Ben, Adam, and Joe must have felt. \u00a0The flashbacks gave us a bit a view of the past, events that led them to where they are. \u00a0Thank you for sharing this! \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 —Destiny Adams \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0August 7, 2011<\/p>\n

Oh boy…talk about lump in my throat! Although I’m not usually a fan of ‘death’ fic this was the exception. Very poignant and well written…and believable! Thanks for a most enjoyable read, even if I was sniffling! \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 —Dodo \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 August 26, 2009<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

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

Summary: \u00a0What goes through the mind and hearts of a father and two of his sons as they stand together before the grave a man much loved, and taken from them much too soon?\u00a0 Warning … character death.<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0K+ \u00a0(1,900 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":28,"featured_media":5941,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_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":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[23,41],"tags":[14,15,16],"class_list":["post-6397","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-hurtcomfort","tag-adam-cartwright","tag-ben","tag-joe","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-41-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":1092,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/Hoss.jpg?fit=640%2C480&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":6768,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=6768","url_meta":{"origin":6397,"position":0},"title":"A Deadly Day (by rosecartwright)","author":"rosecartwright","date":"November 4, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0Joe is home sick, but things go downhill for this young Cartwright. \u00a0 Rated:\u00a0K+ (635 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\/11\/2-joe.jpg?fit=237%2C221&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":2951,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2951","url_meta":{"origin":6397,"position":1},"title":"The End (by faust)","author":"faust","date":"June 8, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"It's the end. 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