1<\/strong><\/h2>\nXxXxX<\/h3>\n
Joe laughed so hard his stomach hurt. Professor Brodermann made Adam sound a whole lot more na\u00efve and gullible than Joe could ever have imagined.<\/p>\n
“I presented lies as though they were facts,” the professor said pointedly, “until he began to believe every word.”<\/p>\n
Adam’s jaw went tight and his lips, thin. “You said those facts of yours had been based on the latest scientific studies, about which the public had yet to be informed.”<\/p>\n
“I said it to prove you neither did<\/em> nor could<\/em> know everything you believed you knew.”<\/p>\nSighing and looking like he’d just lost a chess match, Adam admitted, “You said it to put me in my place.”<\/p>\n
“Quite right. You were trying much too hard to prove yourself when what you really needed to do was open your mind.”<\/p>\n
“Quite right<\/em>,” Adam repeated flatly.<\/p>\nThroughout the conversation, Joe had noticed the professor taking frequent glances toward the window across the room. Now the man pulled out his pocket watch. “Well, my friends, I’m afraid it’s time for my medicine, and I am forced to admit I could not find it amongst my things when I unpacked.”<\/p>\n
“I wish you would have said something sooner,” Pa answered. “We could have sent for Doctor Martin in town to\u2014”<\/p>\n
“No, no,” the professor countered. “There was no need to trouble anyone. It might simply have fallen out of my valise into the yard. Young man,” he added, turning to Joe, “would you be so kind as to check for me?”<\/p>\n
“Of course,” Joe said, jumping to his feet. “And if I can’t find it, I’ll head back to town and see what Doc Martin can do for you.”<\/p>\n
“Sure you will,” Adam said as Joe headed for the door. “And you’ll also see what a beer or two can do for you<\/em> down at the Bucket of Blood.”<\/p>\n“All I ask is that you check the yard, dear boy. If the bottle is not there, I shall be fine until tomorrow.”<\/p>\n
Joe was still giggling after he closed the door behind him. The professor’s tales about know-it-all Adam made it clear Joe’s oldest brother didn’t know everything, after all. Joe couldn’t wait to tell\u2014<\/p>\n
Something sharp slammed into him as he stepped down off the porch. He stumbled, barely keeping his feet as he looked at the shaft of an arrow that had embedded itself in his chest. Where\u2026? How\u2026?<\/em> It didn’t make sense. He was at his own home\u2026and Winnemucca wouldn’t\u2026.<\/p>\nThink, you idiot!<\/em> But the point of that arrow seemed to have skewered his thoughts.<\/p>\nPart of him knew he should dive for cover and shout a warning to his family. But he couldn’t seem to do either. The “Pa,” that formed on his lips found no volume. And diving was given over to spiraling downward until\u2026.<\/p>\n
He lay on his back, gazing up at a blood-red, evening sky and listening to Hoss’s belly laugh. It spilled out of the house like a bucket of cold water, and was just as chilling. He had to warn them, had to….<\/p>\n
“Pa,” he tried again, but his pa was laughing almost as hard as Hoss; and Joe’s soft cry was nothing to all that laughter.<\/p>\n
Then that blood-red sky went black.<\/p>\n
And everyone in the house was still laughing.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 51<\/strong>:<\/em><\/h3>\nTooonugwetsedu. That is my name now. The name chose me, as my teacher, Tabuaggena Nuunuawunu, said would happen. A cougar appeared in the rocks above us. Tabuaggena Nuunuawunu saw it and was sui’hoo: He was afraid. He pointed toward it and named it Tooonugwetsedu. I was not sui\u2019hoo. I had no fear of the creature. I met the tooonugwetsedu\u2019s eyes. When it saw me it growled, swished its tail and then turned away. Tabuaggena Nuunuawunu looked at me then with eyes almost as wide as a round-eyed white man. He pointed to me as he had moments earlier to the cat, and repeated the name, Tooonugwetsedu. <\/em><\/p>\nI knew then that I was ready. I had proved myself to one Paiute brave, one member of the tribe I had chosen to emulate. It is time to initiate the next part of my plan. <\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Adam was glad his favorite professor had paid him a visit, unexpected though it was. He\u2019d had no idea the professor was coming until the Purcell\u2019s dropped him off at their front door.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe arrived on the stage this morning,\u201d Mr. Purcell had told them. \u201cWe were in town, and our boy, Billy, heard \u2018em ask someone for directions to the Ponderosa. Seemed only fitting for us to take him back here with us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was very considerate of you,\u201d Pa had answered while five-year-old Billy clung tightly to his own father\u2019s leg. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was the auburn haired Mrs. Purcell who\u2019d replied. \u201cOh, it\u2019s you we have to thank, Mr. Cartwright! That cabin in the valley is such a lovely spot!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2026The cabin in the valley Joe had once intended to make his own. Yet it had been Joe, himself, who had offered it to the Purcells.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t get too used to it,\u201d Mr. Purcell had scolded his wife. \u201cWe\u2019re only there until our own place is finished.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy, of course!\u201d Mrs. Purcell had looked stricken, as though her words had been completely misunderstood. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to imply\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
There\u2019d been no real misunderstanding. The Purcells were good neighbors, and considerate, as Pa had said. It was certainly neighborly of them to ferry the professor to the Cartwrights\u2019 front door. As to the professor, himself, Adam certainly appreciated the surprise visit, although he would have been happier if the stories of his first term at Harvard had been left to the two of them. He was finding it uncomfortable to hear his family laughing about an awkward time he\u2019d kept hidden from them until now\u2026especially Joe. Little Joe’s incessant giggle was bound to taunt him in the days\u2014and weeks, maybe even months<\/em>\u2014to come.<\/p>\nWhile Pa wiped a new round of tears from his eyes and Hoss doubled over with a hearty guffaw, Adam finished the last swallow of coffee in his cup, and then reached for the pot on the table in front of him. As he did so, he noticed Joe’s cup sitting cold and untouched. Surely Joe should have been back by now. Frowning, Adam glanced at the door before deciding he had the perfect excuse to separate himself from the professor’s unintended mockery, if only for a few minutes. He would go out and see just what was keeping his young brother.<\/p>\n
Those brief moments as he walked to the door, moving himself out of the center of attention, helped Adam to breathe easier. It also helped him to remember how much he appreciated the professor’s visit. After all, the man had traveled a long way specifically to see Adam. Considering that fact alone served to build Adam’s spirits, giving him some assurance that Professor Brodermann had not been “presenting lies as though they were facts<\/em>” when he’d acknowledged Adam as a favorite student.<\/p>\nBy the time he pulled the door open, Adam had relaxed enough to draw his lips into a small smile. He might even be able to withstand Joe’s humor in another minute or two. But just as he was about to call out to his little brother, Adam’s gaze landed on a horrific image that stole his voice and jabbed a dagger of ice into his spine.<\/p>\n
Joe was on his back with an arrow in his chest, and\u2026worse\u2026an Indian had one hand tangled in Joe’s hair, yanking Joe’s head back. A knife in his other hand hovered near the top of Joe’s forehead.<\/p>\n
Adam was one heartbeat away from watching his little brother get scalped.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 96<\/strong>:<\/em><\/h3>\nHave those few weeks under Tabuaggena Nuunuawunu\u2019s tutelage changed me so much, so quickly? Though I had had no fear of the cougar, I discovered an overwhelming sense of fear for the man running toward me from the house. I was, at that moment, sui’hoo. I was afraid.<\/em><\/p>\nMonths of planning and weeks of learning at Tabuaggena Nuunuawunu\u2019s side had clearly made a Paiute out of me, to fear a white man so intensely. I was close, oh, so very close to retrieving my trophy, and yet I hesitated when the eldest of the brothers shouted out the name of the youngest before calling to the others inside the house. <\/em><\/p>\nThe names shall not be repeated here. I must not think of them as men. I must be Tooonugwetsedu, the cougar. Only then can I prove out my theories. The proof, however, can only come once I have completed the tasks to which I have dedicated myself. I must succeed to show the truth to the world. I cannot fail, yet that moment of fear threatened to be my undoing.\u00a0 I froze, my heart pounding beyond my breast and into my throat, threatening to choke me. My breath was coming too hard and fast to lend strength to my spirit and purpose to my actions. I should have finished the task. I knew I must, and yet I could not. My fear was paramount. I could do nothing more than turn and run back into the sanctuary of the trees.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n2<\/strong><\/h2>\n\u201cHe had blue eyes.\u201d Even as Adam said the words, he had a hard time believing them. His gaze strayed from the window to the settee, where he could see the arrow shaft protruding above the festive red and white upholstery. Joe, himself, was hidden from view and so quiet Adam could almost pretend he wasn\u2019t even there. The shaft barely quivered with movement under Pa\u2019s gentle ministrations while he tried to see where the arrowhead was lodged.<\/p>\n
\u201cA blue-eyed Paiute?\u201d Hoss asked in a quiet voice that sounded as disbelieving as Adam\u2019s. \u201cWe\u2019d a\u2019known by now if Winnemucca had a white man in his tribe. Wouldn\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam looked out the window again. The evening was growing thicker around them, the shadows, deeper. \u201cI can\u2019t help but wonder if he was acting alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t think maybe they were forcin\u2019 him to do it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? And how? He seemed more afraid of me than of anyone else who might have been hiding in the woods.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAfraid a\u2019you<\/em>? You weren\u2019t even armed.\u201d<\/p>\n“None of us were. We were so focused on Joe they had every opportunity to kill you, me and<\/em> Pa before any of us thought about taking cover or arming ourselves. They didn’t even try.”<\/p>\n“No. No, they sure didn’t. I wondered about that, too.”<\/p>\n
“And<\/em>,” Adam added, “that Indian could easily have taken Joe’s scalp before he ran.”<\/p>\nHoss looked as sick as Adam felt. “Why do you reckon he didn’t?”<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did he want it in the first place?\u201d<\/p>\n
“Joseph! No!” Pa’s urgent shout pulled Adam and Hoss both away from the window. They didn\u2019t need to speak to tell each other they\u2019d never catch sight of Indians even if they were<\/em> still out there.<\/p>\nBesides, if those Indians had wanted the rest of the Cartwrights dead, they\u2019d be dead already.<\/p>\n
“Leave it, Joe!\u201d Pa demanded as Adam rounded the settee to see that Joe was not only awake, he was flailing about, seeming intent to pluck the arrow out himself. “Get it out!” Joe cried softly. “Please\u2026can’t\u2026.”<\/p>\n
\u201cWe’ll take care of it, son, but you must<\/em> leave it be!”<\/p>\nJoe’s chest was heaving erratically, in halting, catching breaths. “Can’t\u2026. Can’t breathe.\u201d<\/p>\n
“Easy, Joe,” Pa said as he grabbed hold of Joe’s arms. “Easy.”<\/p>\n
The window forgotten, Hoss and Adam stepped in to help quiet their brother.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 97<\/strong>:<\/em><\/h3>\nThe trophy is still out of reach and somehow the target has survived. Although the arrow struck true, it did not penetrate into the heart. It is strange to imagine I miscalculated. My skills at archery have been proved time and again. I had every reason to expect those skills would augment my goals in these endeavors. I, therefore, gave no consideration to compensating for such a failure. <\/em><\/p>\nIt is difficult to see the interior of the house through my spyglass. The large window in the dining area has been sealed. The narrow window at the front provides only a glimpse inside, but it is enough to show that the household is focused on keeping the target alive. I shall need to formulate a new plan, one that allows for a degree of improvisation that shall surely test my prowess in the absence of my teacher, Tabuaggena Nuunuawunu.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
When the professor drew Ben Cartwright toward the dining table, Adam left Joe in Hoss’s more than capable hands to join the conversation.<\/p>\n
Brodermann seemed relieved to see him. “Adam,” he said the moment Adam was close enough. “You know I’m good friends with Frederic Beaumont, one of the finest surgeons in Harvard’s teaching staff?”<\/p>\n
“Yes. Why?”<\/p>\n
“I have audited his lectures and demonstrations often enough through the years to practically call myself a surgeon, had I a mind to\u2026except for one very important thing.”<\/p>\n
“What’s that?”<\/p>\n
“I have never made the attempt nor would I ever deign to try to hold a surgeon’s knife.”<\/p>\n
Ben drew his shoulders back. “I had no intention of asking you to\u2014”<\/p>\n
The professor held up a hand. “Please, let me explain.” He waited for Ben to close his mouth, glance back at Joe and Hoss, and then give the man his impatient nod. “I provided you this glimpse into my background to make certain you could recognize I speak from a degree of experience to warrant your respect with regard to the\u2026observation<\/em>\u2026I feel it necessary to provide.”<\/p>\n“Pa!”<\/p>\n
Joe’s pain-wracked cry further tensed Ben\u2019s already taut shoulders. “Just tell me what it is you are trying to say!” he complained. “We don’t have time for\u2014”<\/p>\n
“That arrow,” Brodermann said, “lodged where it is, could very well be the only thing keeping your son alive.”<\/p>\n
“That’s absurd! You can’t expect us to leave it\u2014”<\/p>\n
“No. You’re right. I fully admit that it must come out. However, I feel an obligation to warn you of what I believe might be a terrible risk. If the point of that arrow has embedded itself in his lung, then that lung will collapse the moment the pressure is released, and your son will suffocate. There is nothing that can be done, should that occur.”<\/p>\n
Adam felt as though his own lung collapsed at hearing that statement.<\/p>\n
His father looked no better. “But\u2026but we don’t know that’s the case. Do we?”<\/p>\n
“His breathing is labored, which could indicate one of three things. Either he is simply experiencing a degree of shock and pain to cause the difficulty, or<\/em> the lung is punctured\u2026or the arrow is causing pressure to be exerted against the lung. If the latter is true, then a careful surgeon stands a good chance of succeeding in removing it, but a careless<\/em> surgery could in fact drive the arrow deeper before<\/em> removing it, in which case the lung could yet be punctured.”<\/p>\n“Then it’s decided,” Adam said. “We need to get Paul out here.”<\/p>\n
“We can’t!” Ben replied quickly. “At least,” he added an instant later, his shoulders sagging, “not until morning, when we stand a better chance of seeing the men responsible for this.”<\/p>\n
Or the man<\/em>, Adam added in his thoughts.<\/p>\n“Hoss!” Joe cried. “Help me\u2026please! Get it\u2026out<\/em>!”<\/p>\n“We can’t wait that long,” Adam decided. “Joe<\/em> can’t wait.”<\/p>\nBen nodded slowly. “I’ll go.”<\/p>\n
“Joe will do better with you here.”<\/p>\n
“I won’t risk this happening to you!”<\/p>\n
“Hop Sing go,” the Ponderosa’s alternate patriarch announced.<\/p>\n
Stunned, both Ben and Adam shouted, “No!” in unison.<\/p>\n
“If I may?” Professor Brodermann interceded. He waited for all three men to look at him, and then added, “From what I understand, most Indians will not attack at night. Is that true?”<\/p>\n
“Usually,” Adam said.<\/p>\n
“Not always,” Ben added.<\/p>\n
“Well then, the risk is at least minimized. And since Adam is younger and leaner, and will no doubt ride more swiftly\u2014”<\/p>\n
“Thank you,” Adam cut in before swiveling around to hurry toward the front door.<\/p>\n
“Maybe I ought to go along and watch your back,” Hoss called after him.<\/p>\n
Adam stopped for a moment to watch the calm but uncompromising way Hoss held Little Joe, and then smiled sadly. “Then who will watch yours? No, Hoss. You stay here with Joe. I’ll be faster on my own, anyway.”<\/p>\n
“You be careful!” Hoss hollered as Adam closed the door behind him.<\/p>\n
Ben said nothing, but his silence made his own concern very clear.<\/p>\n
Of course, Adam had no intention of letting a stray arrow find him. But intention wasn\u2019t exactly armor. And the only thing that caused the next arrow to embed itself in the barn door instead of Adam\u2019s flesh was the expertise of the man who\u2019d shot it\u2014a fact that was made very clear when Adam saw that a piece of paper had been affixed to the shaft.<\/p>\n
It was a note. The words, written in pencil lead, might have been impossible to see in the fading light if they hadn\u2019t been scrawled in large, capital letters. But the message was clear enough to Adam. \u201cYOU LEAVE, YOU DIE.\u201d<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n3<\/strong><\/h2>\nFor a long while, no one wanted to give voice to the disturbing thoughts the note had inspired. Adam looked from his father to the professor to Hop Sing, and then finally to Hoss, who continued holding tight to Little Joe although their young brother had gone still again. \u201cClearly,\u201d Adam said to break the silence, \u201che can see us, but we won\u2019t stand a chance of knowing where he might be until the sun reduces his options for hiding.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne Indian,\u201d Hoss answered, \u201cwho ain\u2019t even an Indian.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow can you be so sure?\u201d The professor\u2019s question sounded off somehow. Adam looked at him and was puzzled by the way he was wringing his hands, a gesture that emphasized the unusual sag of his shoulders.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat he\u2019s alone?\u201d Adam asked in response. \u201cOr that he\u2019s not an Indian?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, both, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss gently pried himself away from Little Joe and rose to his full height. \u201cA blue-eyed Indian who shoots arrows with notes ain\u2019t any kind of Indian I\u2019ve ever known.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut why?\u201d Ben asked. \u201cWho would do a thing like this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam kept his eyes on the professor. Brodermann was not the man Adam remembered. In fact, he wasn\u2019t even acting like the same man who had sat in that room barely two hours earlier, telling stories at Adam\u2019s expense. Where was his confidence? His arrogance, even? \u201cProfessor?\u201d He waited for the man to sheepishly meet his gaze. \u201cYou know something about this, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
To Adam, it was a telling sign when the professor glanced away. \u201cWhat?\u201d he tried to sound indignant, but his eyes danced about too much. He refused to let Adam look into them any longer. \u201cHeavens, no. I couldn\u2019t poss\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy<\/em> did you send Joe out there when you did?\u201d Adam\u2019s voice rose with each word. \u201cIn fact, why did you even come here? Now<\/em> of all times?\u201d Rage was building within him.<\/p>\n\u201cAdam.\u201d His father\u2019s hand fell lightly on Adam\u2019s shoulder. He didn\u2019t see. Surely Pa wasn\u2019t seeing guilt in the man\u2019s posture, and, more tellingly, in his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust tell me,\u201d Adam pressed. \u201cWhy now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI had put off this trip for far too long.\u201d The professor pulled his shoulders back with an air of superiority Adam was suddenly remembering with less enthusiasm than he\u2019d known years before. \u201cI\u2019ve been wanting to see this great Ponderosa of yours, and I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou decided on a whim<\/em>,\u201d Adam argued softly, \u201cto finally<\/em> venture west, after all<\/em> these years?\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cAdam.\u201d Pa\u2019s grip tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d The professor\u2019s eyes challenged Adam to find fault in his answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou decided to just pack up and come out here,\u201d Adam went on, \u201cwithout giving us any advance notice, not even a telegram saying we could expect you on today\u2019s stage, relying entirely on the kindness of our neighbors, strangers to you, to deliver you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy, your invitation was open, or so you repeatedly insisted.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was,\u201d Pa said.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut why now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAdam,\u201d Pa pleaded in a soft, but demanding tone.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd why Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n
Pa\u2019s grip fell away.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d the professor asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you send Joe outside?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was time for my medicine. I needed\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of medicine?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI beg your pardon?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is the name of the medicine? What condition does it treat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy\u2026it\u2026it\u2019s for my heart. It\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam moved closer to the professor until he was standing right in front of the man. \u201cThere isn\u2019t any medicine, is there?\u201d he accused. \u201cAdmit it! You sent Joe outside on purpose! You\u2019re<\/em> responsible!\u201d<\/p>\nThe professor went pale.<\/p>\n
Adam turned sideways and pointed toward Little Joe. \u201cLook<\/em> at him, professor! Look at him<\/em>! That\u2019s my brother lying there with an arrow in his chest! If he dies, are you prepared to hang for it?\u201d<\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 98:<\/strong><\/h3>\nThis task must be completed tonight. It shames me to admit that I panicked when I saw the eldest going into the barn. It was possible he was simply planning to care for the horses. I feared, however, he was instead planning to ride out in search of help. I could not risk involving more men. <\/em><\/p>\nI was a fool. It would have been hours before he returned. In the interim, the numbers against me would have been diminished by one. Now I have played my hand. I must get inside. I must attain the trophy. Only then will I prove my worth to the tribe, and only then can I prove the truth to the world.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
\u201cI had no idea.\u201d The professor dabbed his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. \u201cI could never have imagined anything like this to be within his capability<\/em>, let alone his plan.\u201d He swayed on his feet, as though ready to collapse.<\/p>\nAdam ignored the man\u2019s obvious discomfort. \u201cWho is he, professor<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cA student. A brilliant\u2026brilliant young man.\u201d He attempted a weak smile. \u201cHe reminded me quite a bit of you, Ada\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA student?\u201d Ben exploded with all the rage Adam had felt moments earlier. His hands balled into fists at his side. “What sort of madness would turn a student into something so\u2026so savage?”<\/p>\n
The professor shook his head and dabbed it once more. “Last year, our group\u2019s discussions focused on the subject of educating Indians. We spent hours debating the possibility of turning savages into civilized men.”<\/p>\n
“Whoever attacked Joe,\u201d Ben argued, \u201cis more of a savage than any Indian I have ever encountered!”<\/p>\n
The professor inclined his head in agreement. “Which could in fact prove out the reverse\u2014that it is possible to turn a civilized man into a savage.”<\/p>\n
Adam noticed the professor\u2019s confidence returning. “What are you saying?”<\/p>\n
“Bradley Decklin, the student to whom I was referring, has for many months insisted both hypotheses could prove true. Frankly, I’d been rather proud of his tenacity\u2026as well as his sense of compassion for Indians. Once he learned Sarah Winnemucca had attended school in California, he spent weeks developing a theory on the subject, one that favored the education and\u2026enlightenment<\/em> of Indians.”<\/p>\n\u201cHow\u2026exactly<\/em>\u2026does enlightening Indians have anything to do with trying to kill my brother?\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cI wish I knew. I wish\u2026I wish I had known sooner. If I had, perhaps I could have prevented this. Dear me, I wish to heaven I could have prevented it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd yet you caused it, instead.\u201d<\/p>\n
The professor shook his head. “I had no idea what Bradley was planning. He simply asked me to provide him with an opportunity to encounter your young brother privately, to talk with him\u2014or so I presumed\u2014about Sarah Winnemucca. In one of your letters you told me young Joseph had attempted to court her.”<\/p>\n
“You had no right to share that information with anyone!”<\/p>\n
“I saw no harm in doing so. Believe me, Adam\u2026and Ben\u2026I had no idea what Bradley Decklin had planned. None at all. I didn’t want to know; I didn’t want to influence the results of Mr. Decklin’s\u2026experiment<\/em>.”<\/p>\n“An experiment<\/em>? He tried to kill my brother! Not to mention almost scalping him! You call that an experiment<\/em>?”<\/p>\n“Indeed not. I call it madness. I never suspected his intentions could involve anything so horrific. To be honest, I thought he might simply ask Joseph for an introduction to Chief Winnemucca and his daughter.”<\/p>\n
“Then you’re slipping professor.” Adam kept his voice low and cold.<\/p>\n
“Slipping?”<\/p>\n
“Surely you used to be intelligent enough,” Adam’s voice started rising again, gaining volume word by word, “to realize it is far easier to ask for an introduction by first introducing yourself with a knock on the front door!”<\/p>\n
“Yes. Well. I also suspected he wanted to keep you\u2014and perhaps your father also\u2014unaware.”<\/p>\n
“Why?”<\/p>\n
“I don\u2019t know. I didn\u2019t want\u2014”<\/p>\n
\u201cHoss!\u201d Joe\u2019s voice pulled them all back to the settee, where he was once more thrashing about. Like the professor, he, too, was beginning to sweat\u2014although Adam knew the implications were far more significant with Joe.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can\u2019t wait any longer, Pa.\u201d Hoss\u2019s didn\u2019t even have to voice the words. They could all tell it was true.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 1:<\/strong><\/h3>\nAll of mankind is of one author. The troubles of the world are the direct result of failed translations. How else can one explain such differences between concepts of right versus wrong or good versus evil? The concept of evil is not universal. Why this simple truth is not universally understood utterly confounds me. It is for this reason I have decided to perform an experiment of cultural significance. The Indian tribes of the west are frequently referred to as savages, and yet civilized men are seen as savages in their eyes in turn. What can explain this effect other than failed translations? The translations of which I write are not limited to the language of words, but are inclusive of the language of culture. I shall, therefore, attempt to immerse myself in the culture of a savage tribe. I shall ingratiate myself to them. I shall embrace their ideals. What they see as evil, so shall I. What they see as good, so shall I. In the end, I shall provide the world with a translation the likes of which no man has ever attempted.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n4<\/strong><\/h2>\nBradley Decklin, journal entry, page 98:<\/strong><\/h3>\nI have considered a variety of diversionary tactics. Sparking a fire in the barn would certainly draw attention, pulling members of the household away from the target in order to save the horses and protect the house from subsequent conflagration. Fire, however, is an unpredictable beast. It burns with a fury no man can hope to control. It could turn against me or even cause the target to burn. Either way, my work would be forfeit. <\/em><\/p>\nThere is but one tactic that yet gives me hope. There is a young family living in the valley near to the ranch house. I mentioned them in the first pages of this journal, when I had been making note of the surrounding environment. This family can now be brought into use.<\/em><\/p>\nIndeed, I must admit to feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of executing this new plan. Tooonugwetsedu is growing hungry.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Ben Cartwright insisted on performing the surgery himself. Adam knew it had nothing to do with his father\u2019s inability to trust anyone else. Adam and Hoss could both be trusted to work with the same concern for precision as Ben. Whatever kind of man Professor Brodermann might be, he was right about the risks associated with the position of that arrowhead. Little Joe\u2019s life could very well depend on absolute precision. And that was why Ben couldn\u2019t let anyone else take the responsibility. If his youngest son were to die when the arrowhead was removed, he wasn\u2019t about to allow his oldest boys to know the guilt of having caused it to happen.<\/p>\n
What Ben didn\u2019t know or simply didn\u2019t acknowledge was that Adam already felt a degree of guilt that would grow a hundred-fold if Joe didn\u2019t survive, no matter who held the surgeon\u2019s knife. It was Adam\u2019s professor, his letters and his invitation that had resulted in Joe being attacked. It was his fault, even if he had yet to understand why. \u2026Even if he never came to understand.<\/p>\n
\u201cAdam,\u201d his father\u2019s soft but commanding tone pulled Adam\u2019s gaze from the damnable arrow in his brother\u2019s chest. \u201cGet as much of this into him as you can.\u201d<\/p>\n
Taking the glass from Pa, Adam lowered himself to his knees and gently slipped his arm behind Joe\u2019s head and shoulders. A thin moan made it clear Joe had no energy left to struggle as he\u2019d been doing. His lids fluttered but remained closed. \u201cWhat do you know, Joe?\u201d Adam said lightly. \u201cPa opened up that special bottle of brandy of his. He\u2019s giving you the first taste.\u201d But when he held the glass to his brother\u2019s lips, there was no reaction. \u201cCome on, Joe. You know you\u2019ve been anxious to give it a try.\u201d<\/p>\n
Finally, there was a trace of movement, even the slightest quiver of a smile. Joe looked at Adam through glazed and bloodshot eyes, gave the hint of a nod, and took a small swallow. It was a show of trust. Absolute trust.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust a little more, buddy,\u201d Adam encouraged, swallowing a bitter sense of unworthiness as he tilted the glass slightly to ease the liquid past his brother\u2019s lips. Like the trusting, little brother he was, Joe did as he was told.<\/p>\n
Then Adam saw that knife in Pa\u2019s worn, but steady hands draw a new, thin line of blood across Little Joe\u2019s flesh. And he realized he was grateful for his father\u2019s insistence.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 99:<\/strong><\/h3>\nMy hands shake. These words are not easily written. I am not worthy of my namesake, Tooonugwetsedu. I performed my task fittingly, targeting the family in the valley mentioned earlier in this writing, but it left me with an ill sensation. The adult male was easily dispatched, the arrow placed exactly as it should have been for my original target. The cries of the female were equally easy to ignore. The creature levied scratches upon my arms. I did not, however, dispatch her. Since she had a role yet to play, I did nothing more than stun her with a single blow. Indeed, it was neither of these actions that Tooonugwetsedu would shun, but rather the next. <\/em><\/p>\nI took the hair of the male as trophy. This prize was not meant to compensate for my failure with the original target, as there can be no substitution. I took it merely because it was mine to claim. This male was, after all, my first confirmed kill as Tooonugwetsedu. The trophy, however, did not feel like a precious thing in my grip. The texture was not the same as that to which I had grown accustomed among the cadavers I took to hand at the school for medical arts in Boston. The blood was fresher, certainly, and perhaps that was the principal cause. The effect ravaged my stomach, the contents of which were left beside the male\u2019s remains. Clearly, the translation is not yet complete. <\/em><\/p>\nMy resolve is steeled therefore to conclude this night with my primary trophy in hand. The male pup I carried back will surely help to enable my success.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
The arrowhead had been caught between two ribs. Wedged against the thin bones on either side, the point was buried in muscle. That didn\u2019t mean it couldn\u2019t move, edging further downward, driving deeper toward Joe\u2019s lung. Still, Adam could see the relief in his father\u2019s eyes and hear it in the slow release of his father\u2019s too long held breath. It wasn\u2019t until the next breath that worry took hold again. Pa could not get a firm enough grip to pull the arrowhead free. Joe\u2019s blood made his fingers slip with each cautious tug.<\/p>\n
Clenching his teeth and steeling himself for what was to follow, Adam nudged closer to get into a better position. \u201cLet me try,\u201d he said softly, dropping the now saturated cloth he\u2019d been holding close to the fresh wound. Whether it landed on the floor or on Hop Sing\u2019s tray, he neither knew nor cared. He focused instead on pressing a new cloth against the steady flow of blood, and then\u2026on reaching inside. He sucked in his breath, wrapped the wet cloth around the arrowhead\u2026and pulled.<\/p>\n
And slipped.<\/p>\n
\u201cDammit!\u201d There was a sharp sting on his finger and a wash of new blood.<\/p>\n
He heard something then, something beyond the harsh, rapid pounding of his own heart. Hoof beats outside, perhaps. It was not an unfamiliar sound, and he gave it no further thought. He had to try again. This time, discovering that the arrowhead was looser, he risked rocking it back and forth, biting further into each rib in an attempt to work it free.<\/p>\n
Joe bucked upward and let out a cry that overrode every other sound around Adam, even that incessant, damnable pounding.<\/p>\n
\u201cHold him still!\u201d he shouted in a voice he could barely believe was his own.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am!\u201d Hoss hollered back. \u201cI press any harder I\u2019ll break his collar bone!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy, boys,\u201d Pa commanded softly.<\/p>\n
Adam saw his father\u2019s hand, the fingers dry but stained with red, come to rest on the other side of Joe\u2019s chest, just beneath Hoss\u2019s dirt darkened nails. Joe heaved beneath both with rapid, unsteady breaths. Low, agonized moans came with each exhalation.<\/p>\n
And then Adam saw his eyes. Joe seemed to be looking at him through the thin, blood-red slits of his eyelids. What Adam couldn\u2019t see of Joe\u2019s gaze he couldn\u2019t help but imagine: A loss of trust.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m sorry, Joe<\/em>, he shouted into the new silence in his head. God, I\u2019m so sorry!<\/em><\/p>\nThen he pulled again. And, finally, the arrowhead broke free.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 100:<\/strong><\/h3>\nThe female followed me, just as I had expected. Soon, she will draw the others outside. I need only watch for my opportunity to move in unchallenged. <\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n5<\/strong><\/h2>\nA woman\u2019s voice, pleading and desperate, broke into Adam\u2019s thoughts. Turning his gaze from his father\u2019s own desperate attempt to sew Joe\u2019s wound closed, Adam saw Mrs. Purcell standing in the open doorway with the professor. Her dress, the same one she\u2019d worn earlier, was dirt covered and torn; one sleeve had been nearly ripped away, exposing her soft shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cClose the door!\u201d Adam commanded the instant his mind started working properly once more.<\/p>\n
He pushed himself from his seat on the coffee table, where he\u2019d collapsed only seconds after Joe had gone still again. The cloth Hop Sing had pressed into his hand briefly stole his attention as it started to fall away. He drew it around his knuckles and pulled it tight to stem the flow of blood at the base of his finger, a result of his struggle with the arrowhead, and then strode purposefully toward the Ponderosa\u2019s latest visitors. Slamming the door shut, he confronted the man he\u2019d once believed knew everything there was to know in the world. \u201cThat brilliant<\/em> student of yours is still out there! And that is precisely where I intend to keep him!\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cPlease!\u201d the woman cried out, grasping Adam\u2019s arm. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to help me find him! You must help me find my boy!\u201d<\/p>\n
Only then did Adam fully accept that this disheveled young woman had just come in from where that brilliant student had been lying in wait. There was a thin cut on her forehead and a large, red bruise on her cheek. \u201cDid he do this?\u201d he asked softly, cupping his good hand beneath her chin and dimly noticing that his fingers were still red with blood\u2014his brother\u2019s and his own.<\/p>\n
\u201cAn Indian,\u201d she sobbed in reply. \u201cHe k-killed Paul! He killed my husband! And he took my boy! Please, you must help me find him! He has my son!\u201d<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 100:<\/strong><\/h3>\nA moment ago, the door came open again. Four adults have emerged, three males and one female, each armed with a lantern. Surely they will begin the search, leaving only two adult males inside, one of whom will surely work in my favor. My success is finally assured.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
\u201cBe careful,\u201d Adam advised unnecessarily. \u201cAnd stay alert.\u201d He met his father\u2019s gaze and held it for a moment longer than was wise. The door was open again, and they were all clustered together there at the threshold\u2014Adam, his father, Hoss, Hop Sing and Mrs. Purcell. A group target would be hard to miss. The only question would be who among them would be the first to be hit if Professor Brodermann\u2019s savage student had the inclination to attack.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry about us,\u201d Pa said sternly. \u201cYou just stay with your brother.\u201d It was something he\u2019d said many times through the years, but never before had it struck Adam such a blow, one that fell upon his shoulders with the weight of foreboding. Of course Adam would stay with Joe. But would Joe stay with Adam?<\/p>\n
A gentle squeeze from Pa\u2019s hand chased away some of that weight, but only for a moment. Then the door was closed, locking Adam safely in the house with the professor and Little Joe, while the rest went out into the night, in search of a small boy who should never have been brought into this\u2014whatever it was\u2014a small boy whose father was now dead because Adam had said things in a letter he should have kept to himself, and had issued an open invitation to a man he should have left behind him when he\u2019d returned from college.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt could be a trap of some sort,\u201d the professor had said while Hoss and Hop Sing prepared four lanterns.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, it\u2019s a trap!\u201d Adam had shot back. \u201cBut it doesn\u2019t matter, does it? There\u2019s a child out there. Would you have us leave him to that man\u2019s savagery?\u201d He\u2019d regretted the words the moment he heard them. If only he\u2019d spoken softer\u2026soft enough to prevent Mrs. Purcell from hearing them.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe won\u2019t harm Billy, will he?\u201d she\u2019d asked, anxiously tugging at the frayed threads in her tattered sleeve.<\/p>\n
Yes, he very well might<\/em>. But Adam was now wise enough to finally hold his tongue.<\/p>\n\u201cIf he was going to harm your boy,\u201d Ben answered instead. \u201cI doubt he would have taken him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve heard\u2026Indians take children to\u2026to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s not an Indian,\u201d Adam had quickly corrected.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? Of course he was an Indian! He was shooting arrows. He had a knife. And he\u2026he\u2026.\u201d Her words had grown quick and tremulous until they stopped altogether. \u201cHe scalped him,\u201d she\u2019d added a moment later. \u201cHe scalped<\/em> my husband! And you say he\u2019s not an Indian?\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cMy dear,\u201d Ben had said, taking her hand in his. \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say he is a very troubled young man. But he is not an Indian, and perhaps that will be in your son\u2019s favor. Now, why don\u2019t you let us do what we must? We will find him, I promise you that. Meanwhile, it truly would be best for you to stay here with Adam, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d she said sternly, pulling her hand from his. \u201cI need to be out there with my<\/em> son!\u201d<\/p>\nDespite all of their misgivings, she had been as insistent as a mother bear prepared to protect her cubs. Now she was outside carrying a lantern, just like Pa, Hoss and Hop Sing. The professor\u2019s savage student would have no trouble attacking\u2014killing\u2014any one of them. Or all of them.\u00a0 So why was it Adam felt as though every one of them was still safer than Little Joe?<\/p>\n
\u201cTake this,\u201d he told the professor, selecting a shotgun from the rack beside the fireplace and a box of bullets from the drawer beneath. \u201cDo you know how to use it?\u201d<\/p>\n
But when he tried to hand the weapon to the professor, Brodermann pulled his hands back, his eyes going wide. \u201cYou certainly cannot expect me to\u2026to shoot<\/em> young Bradley! Do you?\u201d<\/p>\nWhatever love Adam had once had for the man died at that moment. \u201cI expect you,\u201d he said in a low but commanding voice, the likes of which he could never have imagined using on a man he\u2019d respected almost as much as his father, \u201cto do whatever it takes to keep my brother, my family and<\/em> the Purcells safe<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\nAdam\u2019s gaze fell to his young brother, resting quietly on the settee. The arrow shaft was gone and all signs of that horrific surgery were now hidden beneath a clean sheet and a warm blanket. But Joe\u2019s coloring was pale\u2026ashen, even, lending little contrast to the gray wool of the blanket. You just stay with your brother<\/em>, Pa said again in Adam\u2019s thoughts. He wished his father could return at that moment to repeat those words to Little Joe.<\/p>\n\u201cWhatever it takes,\u201d Adam repeated aloud, returning his attention to Professor Brodermann and once more pressing the shotgun toward him.<\/p>\n
The professor was hesitant. He took the weapon, nonetheless, freeing Adam to check the condition of his handgun. If the only thing he could do for his brother was protect him from further harm, Adam was determined to do exactly that.\u00a0 Whatever it takes<\/em>.<\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 100:<\/strong><\/h3>\nI expected the patriarch to remain inside with the target. It was, however, the eldest offspring that remained instead. There is a bandage around the eldest\u2019s right paw (yes, in this translation, a choice of words truly does matter; I must remain in the mindset of Tooonugwetsedu). My studies in recent days have already proved to me that this creature\u2019s right paw is dominant. Perhaps this injury, its cause as yet unknown to me, shall work in my favor. <\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Adam was pacing. His gaze moved from the clock to his brother, while his steps took him across the room and back again. Thirty minutes had passed, and he\u2019d heard nothing from outside. No shouts, no cries, not the slightest sound to remind him anyone was nearby. And Joe was growing restless. The professor had been tending to Adam\u2019s brother, mopping Joe\u2019s brow with a wet cloth. But the professor wasn\u2019t there now. Adam had noticed him taking the pitcher to the kitchen, indicating he\u2019d gone for fresh water. That had been a while ago, hadn\u2019t it?<\/em> He looked to the clock again as the minute-hand eased forward. Ten minutes, perhaps. Yes. Ten minutes.<\/p>\nHe took a step toward the kitchen when Joe cried out, \u201cHoss!\u201d Little Joe was thrashing around again, not as wildly as before, but wild enough to risk falling to the floor. \u201cGet it out! Get\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n
In an instant, Adam was beside him. \u201cEasy, Joe! It\u2019s alright! It\u2019s out, Joe! It\u2019s out! Easy!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPa! It\u2019s\u2026. Get it out!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s gone, Joe! It\u2019s out!\u201d Joe\u2019s shoulders beneath his hands felt warm. Then Adam noticed Joe\u2019s face was growing red. \u201cProfessor!\u201d he called out. \u201cGet in here! Professor!\u201d<\/p>\n
Professor Brodermann said something. Adam was sure he\u2019d heard the man\u2019s voice. But he was too focused on Joe to hear the words.<\/p>\n
\u201cProfessor!\u201d he shouted again. \u201cI need you in here, now!\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe twisted beneath him. \u201cGet it out!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy, Joe. I promise you, it\u2019s out! It\u2019s gone!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAdam?\u201d Joe stopped moving. He turned his face toward Adam. His eyes opened to slits.<\/p>\n
Relieved, Adam smiled down at him. \u201cIt\u2019s okay, Little Joe,\u201d he said softly. \u201cIt\u2019s all over. You\u2019re going to be\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Joe\u2019s eyes widened with a look of panic. He tensed.<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy, Joe. It\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAdam!\u201d Joe wasn\u2019t looking at his brother anymore. He was looking beyond him.<\/p>\n
At that realization, Adam turned. For a split second, he saw the butt end of the shotgun rushing toward him. And then he saw nothing at all.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n6<\/strong><\/h2>\nAdam heard voices.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon’t be absurd, Mr. Decklin! I am talking about men’s lives!\u201d<\/p>\n
Professor?<\/em> The word swam through the whirlwind in his head. It never reached his lips.<\/p>\n\u201cThis is bigger than any man!\u201d a stranger replied. \u201cSurely you can understand that!\u201d Adam could not give this new voice a name.<\/p>\n
\u201cAny man’s death diminishes me.\u201d That was the professor again. He was quoting John Donne. \u201cYou once believed in those words. What happened to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was enlightened, professor!\u201d Was it a student? Another student from Harvard? \u201cThanks to you! Thanks to our group’s discussions!\u201d Whoever he was, whatever his name, he was excited. \u201cI realized every war this world has ever known has come about because what one nation sees as good another sees as evil. Good and evil are not static. They are variable. They change and shift depending on the perspective of the person looking to define them. John Donne offers just one perspective.\u201d<\/p>\n
For an instant, Adam was back in college, sipping coffee and joining in on an animated discussion about philosophy.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou killed a man, Mr. Decklin! You murdered him in cold blood! Murder, dear boy! That is a crime punishable by death!\u201d<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin. The name was pulled to the surface as the whirlwind subsided. It was the name the professor had given the false Indian, the man who\u2019d come so close to killing Little Joe.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhose death?\u201d the unfamiliar speaker asked. \u201cBradley Decklin’s? Or Tooonugwetsedu\u2019s? And does it even matter, as long as the translation becomes complete?\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam was confused. If the stranger was Bradley Decklin, why was he speaking of himself as though he was talking about someone else? The confusion pulled Adam closer to realization. He was in his own home. Yes. He was lying on the hard, wooden floor. There was a gentle trickle of moisture from his forehead into his hair. It tickled his scalp as it slid across stray strands. And the bottoms of Adam\u2019s feet felt warm\u2026warmer than his knees\u2026as though they were closest to the fire. He must be behind his father\u2019s chair, halfway to the dining table, judging by the distance of the heat. But\u2026he couldn\u2019t move. He was restrained\u2026trussed up like an animal. Hogtied.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re mad!\u201d The professor\u2019s voice rose in volume. He sounded nervous. Afraid, even. \u201cAbsolutely mad!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI suppose it doesn’t matter.\u201d The stranger went on talking as though the professor had said nothing…as though he was trying to understand something in his own mind\u2026as though what didn\u2019t matter<\/em> was whether the professor understood. \u201cBradley Decklin never killed anyone. And Tooonugwetsedu only kills animals.\u201d Was the stranger either of those men, or neither?<\/em> \u201cHe would never kill a fellow Indian unless it was a sanctioned battle. And besides, Indians are not tried in white men’s courts.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cOf course, they…. And you are not<\/em> an Indian!\u201d There it was. The professor\u2019s authoritative tone.<\/p>\nAdam clung to that familiar\u2014comforting<\/em>\u2014voice\u2026a voice that had helped him during those early days when he\u2019d missed his father\u2019s guidance. He used the voice to help dissipate the foggy darkness in his vision.<\/p>\n\u201cBut I am<\/em>!\u201d the stranger insisted. \u201cI am<\/em> an Indian! Look at me! I’ve learned everything about them! I wear what they wear, eat what they eat. I even earned an Indian name!\u201d<\/p>\nAdam blinked the stranger into focus. His skin was pale, his clothing, leather. It was Joe\u2019s attacker. The blue-eyed Indian. And he was pacing in front of the settee\u2026within a hand-grasp of Adam\u2019s little brother.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d the professor shouted. \u201cBy scalping that poor Mr. Purcell?<\/p>\n
Suddenly alert, Adam struggled with his bonds and was relieved to find the rope subtle and smooth. Clearly, it had been softened with use. Decklin must have taken it from the pile that had been tossed behind the barn, a pile of old, useless rope that was being discarded.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d Decklin asked, sounding confused.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe man from the cabin!\u201d the professor hollered back. \u201cThe one who was so kind as to take me here! That little boy’s father!\u201d He pointed emphatically toward the front door. \u201cMr. Paul Purcell!\u201d<\/p>\n
The rope was soft, but Adam was still having trouble with it. His movements caused a sting at the base of his finger where the arrow had bit into his flesh. He could use that, couldn\u2019t he? If he could work some blood into the rope, he might even be able to slip at least one hand free without fighting awkwardly with the knots.<\/p>\n
\u201cStop!\u201d Decklin\u2019s shout made Adam freeze. He held his breath and lifted his gaze, expecting to find the blue-eyed Indian staring at him. Instead, he saw that Decklin\u2019s eyes were tightly closed, and his hands were clamped against his ears in the manner of a child having a tantrum. The fingers of his right hand were fisted around the antler hilt of a Paiute hunting knife. \u201cThey cannot have names!\u201d Decklin added as he panted out quick, panicked breaths. \u201cDon’t give them names!<\/p>\n
\u201cI beg your pardon?\u201d the professor asked quietly.<\/p>\n
Decklin pulled his hands away and turned his head once to the side. His eyes came open. His forehead smoothed as he took in a deep breath. \u201cTooonugwetsedu,\u201d he said, calm once more, \u201cattacked an adult male. It was a necessary diversion. He…I…needed a chance to get inside here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d The professor tensed. \u201cTo speak with me?\u201d The question seemed an afterthought.<\/p>\n
Decklin blinked at him with the puzzled look of an innocent child. \u201cNo.\u201d He shook his head and turned to continue his pacing. \u201cNot yet. I wasn’t expecting to meet with you until later, when I’m ready to present my results. But since you were here, I figured you would help me…I mean, help Tooonugwetsedu.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith what?\u201d<\/p>\n
A sudden turn at the far end of the settee had Decklin facing the professor again. \u201cI need to finish what I failed to do earlier.\u201d He shifted his gaze to Little Joe, shaking his head again, in slow, pensive movements. \u201cHe was not supposed to survive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam worked the moisture from his blood into the rope at his wrist. Keeping his eyes on Bradley Decklin, he was disturbed to find the man\u2019s moods and facial expressions as variable as the winds of a winter storm. When Decklin spun back again, Adam froze once more, but the student continued to ignore him; his eyes were locked on Professor Brodermann.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh…it wasn’t your fault, professor, not at all!\u201d He smiled, his gaze grown soft and apologetic.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy fault? What\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou timed it all perfectly well, and I can’t thank you enough. You did exactly what I asked. It means more to me than I can say that you thought enough of me…of my theory<\/em> to help me prove it out.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cObviously, I did not know enough about your theory! I would never have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Decklin looked down at Joe again. Adam took that opportunity to give his brother a closer look, himself. Why was Joe so still now? Little Joe had been awake when he\u2019d warned Adam that Decklin was behind him. Had Decklin already done something more to him? In a surge of energy fueled by desperation, Adam pulled his thumb inward as far as it would go, and yanked hard against the blood soaked rope.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t know what went wrong, really,\u201d Decklin said softly. \u201cThat shot should have been a bulls-eye. If it had been a competition, I would request an investigation to see if\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWill you listen to yourself?\u201d the professor demanded. \u201cYou sound as though you’re speaking of a\u2026a wooden target!\u201d<\/p>\n
Decklin spun back to him. \u201cHe is<\/em> a target. He’s my<\/em> target. I need his scalp.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cHis….\u201d The professor\u2019s eyes widened just as Adam slipped his right hand free. \u201cYou are<\/em> mad!\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cIt’s all part of the translation,\u201d Decklin explained, smiling again. \u201cThe scalp of Joe Cart….\u201d He stopped and looked at Joe. \u201cOf this target<\/em>…,\u201d he corrected, \u201cwill be known to Sarah Winnemucca. It will show her that I understand what she values.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cShe will value the scalp of her former beau where it belongs! On his head<\/em>!<\/p>\nKeep talking, professor! <\/em>Adam pleaded silently. The blood was now making it as hard to get a grip on the knots as it had been to get a firm hold on that arrowhead. But at least this time it was his own blood. And rather than weakening him, it seemed to be giving Adam strength.<\/p>\n\u201cYou need to read my journal, professor! I don’t have time to explain it all. Not now. Not here. But when I’m finished with my book, it will all make perfect sense.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt will never make sense! Not after all these horrific things you’ve done!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s it, exactly!\u201d Decklin pointed his knife forcefully, excitedly<\/em> toward the professor. \u201cWhat you consider horrific, Indians see as heroic! It’s all a matter of translation!\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cIt is a matter of lunacy!\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam froze a third time when the professor turned to face him.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow,\u201d the professor added, neither meeting Adam\u2019s gaze nor giving any indication he noticed that Adam\u2019s position had changed. \u201cI must insist that you stop all of this right now!\u201d<\/p>\n
One knot had come loose, the one securing Adam\u2019s left wrist to the rope tying his legs. He was within moments of being free enough to take action.<\/p>\n
\u201cHelp me untie this fellow,\u201d the professor said, \u201cand we shall all see to it that you are\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
And suddenly Decklin was there, too. He grabbed the professor\u2019s arm. \u201cStep away from him, professor! You can’t insist anything! Not until you understand the full translation! And I cannot finish it until I bring that scalp to Sarah Winnemucca. Please professor. I don\u2019t want to hurt you. You mean too much to me. But Tooonugwetsedu…. He needs that scalp. I assure you, he won’t allow anyone to get in his way, not even you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The professor stepped backward, opening a gap between him and Decklin. It was a gap Adam could use. He threw himself clumsily against Decklin\u2019s legs as the sound of a cat\u2019s yowling cry reached them from outside. Unbalanced, Decklin fell backward, into the settee. Wood scraped on wood as the force pushed the settee against the table behind it. A heavy figurine crashed to the floor. And Joe\u2026.<\/p>\n
Joe cried out in pain. The sound drove Adam forward. He grabbed Decklin before the younger man could rise, taking a fistful of soft leather and rawhide in his bloodied fingers and then throwing a wild punch with his left hand. The blood-spattered rope still dangling from his wrist whipped outward, striking Decklin in the neck as he fell to the floor. Adam couldn\u2019t tell if the bloody line that formed on Decklin\u2019s pale flesh was smeared from his own or newly drawn. He stood above the madman, panting, as the room began to tilt beneath him.<\/p>\n
And then, suddenly, he saw that Bradley Decklin had somehow come to be standing over him<\/em>. No. Decklin was standing near<\/em> Adam, but he wasn\u2019t looking at Adam. His eyes were focused on Little Joe. He was gripping that Paiute knife in his right hand again. The fingers of his left hand began to snake into Joe\u2019s hair.<\/p>\n\u201cNo!\u201d Adam shouted as another cry pulled Decklin\u2019s gaze toward the door. It was a child\u2019s cry this time, not a cat, as Adam had first thought. They must have found Billy. They\u2019d found him and were returning. \u201cThey\u2019ll kill you where you stand,\u201d Adam threatened with a confidence he didn\u2019t feel. They would kill Decklin, yes. Pa and Hoss would both shoot the moment they opened that door and realized what was happening. But one, quick swipe of that knife in Bradley Decklin\u2019s hand would ensure his own killing came too late.<\/p>\n
Heavy footsteps reached the porch. A soft, metal chink told of fingers on the door latch.<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin knew he\u2019d run out of time. He wasn\u2019t capable of a quick swipe. No. He wasn\u2019t anything close to a real Indian. Giving up, he turned and ran out of Adam\u2019s view.<\/p>\n
Through it all, Adam didn\u2019t breathe\u2014not until he heard his father\u2019s voice beside him. \u201cAre you alright, son?\u201d<\/p>\n
He started to nod and then to shake his head. Both confused and unconcerned about his real answer, he asked a question of his own instead. \u201cJoe?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s bleeding again,\u201d Hoss answered. \u201cAnd workin\u2019 up a pretty good fever. But it don\u2019t look like that fella\u2019 hurt him anymore\u2019n he already was.\u201d<\/p>\n
Relieved, Adam laid his head against the floor\u2014still wondering how he\u2019d arrived to be in that position\u2014and closed his eyes. For a moment, the sound of a crying child made him wonder why Pa had punished Little Joe, and whether that was Marie making all that noise in the kitchen. When the moment passed and he knew he would never get it back, he couldn\u2019t prevent himself from shedding a single, wayward tear.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 101:<\/strong><\/h3>\nOnce more, I have failed. I was so certain that the professor would understand. At first, he acted as though, indeed, he did understand. He did not announce my presence to the eldest. He even gave over a shotgun that the eldest had put into his possession. The professor is not a man for shooting. This I knew. It was almost amusing to see him holding it in an awkward grip. This meeting, however, was not for amusement. <\/em><\/p>\nThe professor was there because I had requested him to journey west. I wanted him to be present for my final victory, my triumphant completion of the translation. I wanted him to know what successes he had helped me to accomplish. <\/em><\/p>\nI had shed myself of Tooonugwetsedu just long enough to make a visit into Virginia City, a place I attest is fraught with more evil than any Indian camp, although I have yet to help the professor recognize the significance of appropriately translating the meaning of the word, \u201cevil.\u201d I sent a telegram requesting his presence, and then left instructions in a sealed envelope that was to be given over to him at the stage owner\u2019s station. He followed those instructions perfectly, sending the youngest out into the yard, alone, just before sunset. It is for this reason I expected him to assist in my correcting the failure of my own role. Instead, he expressed objections to what I was to do. <\/em><\/p>\nHe does not understand because he has not yet seen the translation. Sadly, there was no time for me this night to provide him with the necessary details. I wasted time with argument, and, in so doing, I once again have failed. I lost my opportunity. The trophy remains out of my reach. <\/em><\/p>\nMy new plan requires that I hold Tooonugwetsedu quiet. This night he must shelter in the confining walls of a white man\u2019s dwelling, away from the peace of the stars. <\/em><\/p>\nI, Tooonugwetsedu, have secured myself in a shadowed corner on the uppermost floor of the target\u2019s house, and here I shall wait for what must surely be my final chance.<\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n7<\/strong><\/h2>\nAdam could hardly think past the throbbing in his head. He didn\u2019t stand a chance of watching over Little Joe. He couldn\u2019t even sit up without inviting a whirlwind that threatened to empty his stomach.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019ll be back,\u201d he said over and over again. \u201cDon\u2019t let him get to Joe.\u201d It was as much of a warning as he could provide.<\/p>\n
While Hoss cleaned and bandage Adam\u2019s head and hand, Adam watched Pa and Hop Sing working together to re-bandage Joe\u2019s wound. No one was watching the windows and doors. The professor had taken to pacing as though he was lost, and Mrs. Purcell was busy trying to quiet her son. From what Adam had heard, the poor kid had been left in the bow of a tree, high up off the ground with his hands tied and a gag in his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you worry about Joe none,\u201d Hoss promised Adam. \u201cAin\u2019t nothin\u2019 else gonna happen to that little brother of ours. I\u2019ll make sure of that.\u201d<\/p>\n
But how could he? How could any of them make sure of it? They had no idea how much of a madman Bradley Decklin had actually become.<\/p>\n
\u201cTooonugwetsedu…needs that scalp.\u201d <\/em>Decklin\u2019s words echoed through Adam\u2019s mind. \u201cI assure you, he won’t allow anyone to get in his way.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nNot even the professor was safe from Decklin\u2019s madness. But Adam could do nothing to help. He couldn\u2019t argue when Pa and Hoss supported him up the stairs to get him to his own room, and his own bed. All he\u2019d managed to accomplish before willingly collapsing on the mattress was to insist they leave his bedroom door open so he could keep an eye on the hallway\u2026and for Hoss to provide him with a loaded weapon. He might not be able to move too quickly, but he could still shoot if he saw someone in that hall who didn\u2019t belong\u2026someone who dressed like an Indian but acted more like an animal.<\/p>\n
Whatever his father and brother might believe, Adam knew Bradley Decklin could very well make an appearance in that hallway. He would have to, because Joe had been moved upstairs also, under the assumption he could rest more easily there\u2014an assumption that made it clear Adam couldn\u2019t rest at all.<\/p>\n
\u201cTooonugwetsedu needs that scalp.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nSo far, only Hoss, Pa and Hop Sing had slipped across Adam\u2019s vantage. At the moment, Adam saw no one, but he could hear his father and brother perfectly well.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you smell that?\u201d Hoss\u2019s voice rode in on a wave of nausea.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? No, Hoss, I don\u2019t smell anything.\u201d Pa\u2019s answer was dismissive, his thoughts elsewhere. \u201cHow is he? Has he come around at all?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, sir. Not really. He just mumbles Adam\u2019s name now and again, like he\u2019s tryin\u2019 to warn him. You sure you don\u2019t smell that?\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam closed his eyes, remembering the frantic look he\u2019d seen in Joe\u2019s when his young brother had cried out in warning. How could Adam have allowed Decklin to get so close? How could he have been so unaware?<\/p>\n
\u201cAnimal might have got in through that weak spot in the roof,\u201d Hoss went on when Adam started listening again. \u201cCould be a raccoon in the rafters, I reckon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust be sure to call for me if Joe comes around,\u201d Pa said, clearly unconcerned about either the roof or stray raccoons. \u201cHop Sing is getting the Purcells settled in my room.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s just the professor downstairs?\u201d Hoss\u2019s cautious tone stirred up acid in Adam\u2019s stomach as a resurgence of fear began welling up inside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor the moment, yes. I\u2019ll be joining him as soon as I\u2019ve checked on Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think it\u2019s a good idea leaving the professor alone, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe professor is well aware of\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Cartwright?\u201d a woman\u2019s voice broke into the conversation an instant before Hop Sing knocked on Adam\u2019s open door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy Mr. Adam no resting?\u201d The cook asked over the almost symphonic dialogue beyond Adam\u2019s room, where Pa\u2019s smooth baritone volleyed with Mrs. Purcell\u2019s light alto.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m fine, Hop Sing,\u201d Adam answered, hoping the high-pitched soprano of young Billy\u2019s terrified cries had been truly silenced for the remainder of the night. The sound had been excruciating. Besides, the boy needed sleep. He needed his father, too, but he would never see his father again, would he? Bradley Decklin had taken Billy\u2019s father from him.<\/p>\n
An image started floating through Adam\u2019s mind, one he couldn\u2019t bear to see. Nor could he ignore it. Hoss\u2019s mother had been struck down by an arrow.\u00a0 She was there in Adam\u2019s thoughts now, lying on the floor with that arrow in her\u2026that damnable arrow\u2026just like Little Joe. It was too similar. Heartbreakingly similar. The memory began to take on new life within him, crushing another life, a different life right out of him. He could almost believe his brother was already gone\u2026even as he could almost believe Inger had never been at all\u2026or that she\u2019d been nothing more than an angel gracing their lives just long enough to bring them Hoss.<\/p>\n
A hand started fussing with the cloth on his forehead, chasing the image away. Grateful, Adam gave his attention back to Hop Sing in time to see him nod, looking satisfied by what he saw. \u201cNo more bleeding.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t like what I see when I close my eyes,\u201d Mrs. Purcell said down the hall, her words a perfect reflection of what Adam felt in his heart.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Adam rest now,\u201d Hop Sing commanded over Pa\u2019s soft reply.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll rest,\u201d Adam answered, \u201cwhen I know Bradley Decklin is safely behind bars.\u201d His voice broke from an ache that had nothing to do with the blow to his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy no one ever listen Hop Sing?\u201d the cook admonished. An instant later he started up a softer than usual tirade spoken partly in English, partly in Chinese, and certainly impossible to follow in either language.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease,\u201d Mrs. Purcell\u2019s voice began to override Hop Sing\u2019s as the cook bustled back into the hallway, taking his tirade with him. \u201cThere must be something I can do to help.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand,\u201d Pa said softly. \u201cI\u2019m sure we\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
A banging on the front door downstairs stole the rest of Pa\u2019s words\u2014and all of Adam\u2019s breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you stay here with Joe?\u201d Hoss demanded more than asked, just before the banging sounded again.<\/p>\n
There was a flurry of thumping footsteps, telling Adam both his father and Hoss were hurrying down to address the unexpected\u2014and undoubtedly unwelcome\u2014late night visitor, and then a swish of skirts that suggested Mrs. Purcell might be pacing just outside Joe\u2019s bedroom door. Surely she would be torn between watching Joe and ensuring her own boy was safe from whatever madness was about to take place.<\/p>\n
\u201cTooonugwetsedu needs that scalp.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nThe swish intensified and then dissipated to the patter of a soft, urgent footfall, making it clear the woman\u2019s first allegiance was to her son.<\/p>\n
\u201cTooonugwetsedu needs that scalp.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nAt another bang on the door, Adam realized his family was taking the wrong approach. Whoever was outside, it couldn\u2019t possibly be Bradley Decklin. No. He would never announce himself so plainly. He would find another way in\u2026an unlatched window, perhaps.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnimal might have got in through that weak spot in the roof,\u201d<\/em> Hoss had said moments earlier.<\/p>\nDear God, no!<\/em> Adam stumbled out of bed only to find the floor moving beneath him, twisting his thoughts\u2026his stomach\u2026his legs\u2026until he tumbled down upon it and closed his eyes, praying for the vertigo to pass.<\/p>\nAdam heard the swish of fabric again while he struggled to pull in enough fresh air to soothe the storm in his head. Then came the sniffle of a child and a mother\u2019s soft shushing. Mrs. Purcell had returned to Joe, taking her son with her. And Adam\u2019s prayers intensified\u2026because Bradley Decklin\u2014or Tooonugwetsedu\u2014had already vowed not to let anyone get in his way. A woman he\u2019d already attacked and a child he\u2019d snatched away once before wouldn\u2019t stand a chance.<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/h2>\n8<\/strong><\/h2>\nBradley Decklin, journal entry, page 102:<\/strong><\/h3>\nThe woman The female is sitting in the room with the target. She has placed her offspring upon the bedding with the target. The offspring and the target are sleeping. The female, however, is alert. Her stance is that of a mother of any species, eager to protect her offspring. The tilt of her head indicates that she is listening intently to the bark of voices trailing up the stairs from the entryway below. <\/em><\/p>\nI am Tooonugwetsedu. I have no interest in the voices. My focus is on the target. <\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Adam forced himself to move slowly, feeling all the while as though the earth itself was working against him. Unwilling to give in to the drumming in his head, he focused on the conversation he could hear from downstairs while he made his way to his open bedroom door, the weight of the gun in his hand giving him a tenuous sense of security.<\/p>\n
\u201cLean Knife have no fight with Ponderosa,\u201d a deep voice proclaimed. \u201cWe have common enemy. Ben Cartwright enemy, Lean Knife enemy.\u201d<\/p>\n
The drumming stole Adam\u2019s attention for a moment. He leaned against his dresser, catching his breath and struggling to listen outward.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe claims to know Paiute ways!\u201d Pa\u2019s booming thunder pulled Adam through the fog. \u201cHe pretends<\/em> to be a Paiute. He tried to kill Little Joe!”<\/p>\n“If only try<\/em>, not kill,\u201d Lean Knife\u2019s answered, driving Adam forward again, \u201cthen Ben Cartwright know this man not<\/em> Paiute brave.”<\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
Bradley Decklin, journal entry, page 102:<\/strong><\/h3>\nI am Tooonugwetsedu.<\/em><\/p>\nI will claim my trophy. I will present this gift to Sarah Winnemucca. I will be welcomed into the tribe. I will make the translation complete. These things I will do for the good of mankind. There is no greater goal. I am Tooonugwetsedu. <\/em><\/p>\nI am Tooonugwetsedu. <\/em><\/p>\nXxXxX<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I know that!\u201d Pa shouted. \u201cBut how is it he believes he knows your ways?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTabuaggena Nuunuawunu was brother, wannnga\u2019a<\/em>, of Lean Knife. Wannnga\u2019a leave Winnemucca’s camp. Return after one moon. Wear white man clothes. Stink of white man’s firewater. Say white man take Paiute clothes. Bring shame to Winnemucca. Lose name. Lose place in tribe.”<\/p>\n\u201cThat white man, Mr. Decklin,\u201d the professor said, \u201csaid he earned an Indian\u2019s name. He called himself To-oo-nug-wet-sed-u.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d Lean Knife barked back so fiercely Adam could almost believe the house shook from the force of that one word. \u201cDeck-lin have no right to such name! Deck-lin have no honor!\u201d<\/p>\n
XxXxX<\/p>\n
I am Tooonugwetsedu.<\/em><\/p>\n