Between A Rock and A Hard Place
Ben
cupped the quivering chin in his hand.
The hazel eyes had filled with tears and they rolled slowly down the
dirty cheeks, leaving tiny white tracks in their wake. Ben felt his heart flutter at the pitiful
sight of his youngest son. The pout on
the boy’s face made Joe look more like ten than twelve, and Ben couldn’t help
but brush away the dampness from the boy’s face and offer his son a smile.
“Joseph,
don’t cry son, everything will be fine,” encouraged Ben.
“I
didn’t mean for it to happen, Pa…really, it just did.”
Ben
swallowed the lump that had unexpectedly grown in his throat as he pulled his
son into the folds of his arms. “I’m
glad to know that it was an accident and that you didn’t do it on purpose,
son,” muttered Ben.
He
could feel his son’s body becoming rigid within the folds of his embrace and
heard Joe sniff.
“It
was an accident…honest,” whimpered Little Joe.
“I
don’t doubt you son,” Ben stressed. “Why
don’t we sit down and talk about it? You
can tell me how all of this mess got started in the first place.”
Ben
pulled Joe back from the embrace and gently guided him over to the settee. “Go on, sit down,” he ordered gently and then
sat down next to his son, once Joe had settled himself onto the couch. He offered Joe his handkerchief so that the
boy could wipe away the remainder of the tears from his face. Ben had to smile for the dampness only served
to smear the dirt that remained on his son’s face, that much more.
“Now
Joe, why don’t you explain to me what happened?” encouraged Ben. “Start from the very beginning.”
Joe
sniffed and swiped the sleeve of his shirt under his nose, glancing up at his
father when he heard Ben groan lightly.
“Joseph, that is what the handkerchief is for.”
“Oh,
sorry Pa,” said Joe meekly and then used his father’s handkerchief to blow his
nose. When he finished, he handed it
back to his father. “You keep it son,
for now,” Ben smiled sickly.
Joe
held the handkerchief in both hands and nervously began twisting one corner
around with his fingers. When he glanced
up, his father was watching him and Joe could see the
skepticism shining in his father’s dark eyes and he wanted nothing more than to
throw himself into his father’s arms and cry.
Ben
watched the way in which Joe’s eyes studied his face, and knew instantly that
Joe was contemplating just how much he should admit to his father. Ben suppressed a smile.
“Joseph,
why don’t you tell me your version of what happened?” Ben requested for the
second time. His voice became soft when
he saw the slight hesitancy in his son.
“Promise
ya won’t yell at me?” muttered Joe, casting worried eyes up at his father.
Ben
groaned inwardly. Six words and already
his stomach had started to churn. He
recalled other times when his youngest son had been in some sort of a fix and
had begun explaining situations with the familiar opening phrase.
“Joseph,
I can’t promise anything, until you tell me what brought all of this about,”
said Ben.
Joe
took a deep breath and looked at his father.
“It was that ole Lucas Tatum.
He’s always gettin’ me trouble.”
“Joseph…”
“No,
really Pa, he is…and I’m always the one who gets a wallopin’ or
restricted. It’s the same at school too,
I’m always the one who ends up in the corner or havin’ to stay after class, and
he never gets caught. Ole…ere I mean,
Miss Jones, she don’t never believe me when I tell her what really happens and
half the time she never even listens to me when I try to explain about
things. She just starts yellin’ at me
and tells me to get in the corner.” Joe
looked sadly up at his father as his eyes began pooling with unshed tears.
“I
don’t think she likes me much,
Ben’s
throat constricted and he was forced to swallow several times to relieve the
thickness. “I don’t really think that
the teacher dislikes you, son…” started Ben.
“But
she does…dislike me, I mean. She’s
always askin’ me why can’t I be more like Adam. Adam was always such a pleasant child, and
once she even told me that she understood why your hair was so white, cause of
me…that’s what she said,
Ben
ran his opened hand across his mouth to cover the smile that threatened to
expose him. “No son, it was a
combination of many things, years mostly,” Ben answered and smiled for real
this time when he saw the look of relief flood his son’s young face.
Joe
returned the smile with one of his own.
“I didn’t think she knew what she was talkin’ about Pa, cause even I couldn’t have been that worrisome to ya.”
This
time, Ben could do nothing to retain his laughter and he laughed for several
moments before regaining control of himself.
He tousled his son’s thick mass of curls. “No son, even you have not been that
worrisome.”
“Now,
will you please explain to me what led up to my being summonsed to the
sheriff’s office this afternoon? With
all of that shouting everyone was doing, I’m still confused by what led up to
the school being destroyed.” Ben asked as he tried to turn the conversation
back to how his son had come to be in the middle of all that had transpired.
Joe
dropped his head.
Ben
placed his hand gently under the boy’s chin and tilted it upward. Joe was trying to divert his eyes from his
father’s.
“Joseph,
I’m waiting, please.”
Joe
finally met his father’s gaze. “I got a
lickin’ today…but it wasn’t my fault…honest
Ben
seemed puzzled, he had never heard of Miss Jones
giving one of her students a whipping and with her away, Ben knew that the
paddling had to come from the substitute teacher, Mr. Edison. Ben’s temper began to simmer for the thoughts
of the pretentious man putting his hands on Joseph, made him furious.
“Joe,
please tell me why Mr. Edison paddled you?
I’m confused because in all of my years of knowing Miss Jones, I’ve
never heard of her doing something so dramatic, yet with his man…I’m sure he is
capable of doing most anything.”
“Oh,
she didn’t do it,
“I’m
aware of all that son, just tell me what he said, but
first, tell me about the whipping,” instructed Ben.
“Well
it all started the first thing this morning, the bell had just rung and
everyone was going inside. Lucas Tatum
was the first one to go in and I was behind him. He went straight to the desk and started to
mess things up. I told him he better
stop or he’d get in trouble. He just
laughed at me and kept right on doing it, he slung
papers and books all over the floor and then ran to his seat. I was trying to pick things up and put them
back on the desk before the teacher got in, but he caught me with some of the
books and papers in my hands.”
Joe
stopped and sniffed at his nose. He
glanced up at his father to check Ben’s reaction. Joe let the wind expel from his lungs; his
father didn’t seem to be getting mad at him.
“What
happened then, when Mr. Edison saw you with the papers and books?” inquired
Ben.
“He
stomped over to the desk. Boy was he mad
too. He started yellin’ at me, just like
Miss Jones, only he could yell lots louder.
He wanted to know what I was doin’ and I started to tell him that all I
was doin’ was pickin’ up things for him what had fallen in the floor.” Joe took a deep breath. “There’s lots more,
ya wanna hear it all?”
“Everything, son. Just take
your time and tell it exactly like it happened,” encouraged Ben.
“Okay,
this is what he said after he stomped over to the desk where I was still
holding the papers.”
Joe
inhaled deeply, watching his father’s face.
When Ben smiled at him, Joe continued…
“Joseph
Cartwright, are you trying to tell me that you are just picking up those
papers?” shouted Newell Edison, the substitute teacher that had been sent to
replace Miss Abigail Jones. Miss Jones
had been called away due to an emergency with her family and would be gone for
several weeks.
“Miss
Jones warned me about you!” he continued in a sharp tone of voice that caused
the young boy to tremble slightly.
“Honest,
I was just pickin’ em up,” stammered Little Joe.
“They
weren’t on the floor just a few minutes ago when I went out to ring the
bell. So how do you explain how they
managed to be in the floor now?” he demanded.
Little
Joe’s eyes sought Lucas’ but the other boy was refusing to look at him. “I…I…I don’t know, sir,” Joe continued to
stammer.
Mr.
Edison snatched the papers and books from the trembling hands and slammed them
down on the desk. He reached across in
front of Joe and grabbed his thick ruler and then grabbed the boy’s left hand,
startling the boy as he clasped his long thick fingers around Joe’s wrist.
“Open
your hand young man,”
“Why?”
Joe questioned as he tried to free his hand from the teacher’s vise like grip.
The
teacher was taken back by what he considered the boy’s insolence. His eyes flashed black. In a low tone, he muttered. “Because I said to, now do it.”
Joe
gulped and opened his hand. He was
totally shocked when the substitute teacher slammed the thick ruler down
several times against the palm of his hand.
He struggled to control his tears for the last thing he wanted was to
start crying in front of the whole class.
The palm of his hand now stung and when Joe looked down, he could see
the redness that caused the stinging sensation.
“What’d
ya do that for? I didn’t do nuthin’,” he
moaned and jerked his hand free of the teacher’s.
“Oh, don’t play the innocent with me Joseph, Miss Jones
told me all about you before she left.
And, I might say, she was correct in her assumption of you. Now, finish picking up this mess and then
return to your seat. You will stay
inside today during the
Joe
finished doing as he was instructed and quickly hurried to take his seat. He glared at Lucas on his way down the aisle
and wished more than anything that he could wipe the smirk off the other boy’s
face.
Joe
was silent during the rest of the morning.
He concentrated on finishing his assignments, but with the pain in his
left hand, he knew that he would be taking part of the work home. His hand hurt more than he cared to admit and
he couldn’t help but worry about what his father would say when he read the
note that
By
the
“And
just where do you think you are going, Joseph?” a voice from behind said.
Joe
felt the fingers pressing into his shoulder and stopped in his tracks. When he turned to look up, he saw the dark
angry eyes glaring down at him; it was at that second that he remembered he was
not to be joining his friends.
“Oh,
sorry,” he stammered, “I forgot.”
Mr.
Edison pointed to the far corner of the room, indicating the place where Joe
was to stand. Joe dropped his head and
started for the appointed place. Mr.
Edison grabbed the sack from Joe’s hand, catching the boy off guard.
“Hey!”
snapped Joe. “That’s my lunch.”
“Not
any more it isn’t. You will stand in the
corner as instructed for your misconduct this morning. Lunch is not an option for you,” the teacher
smirked.
“That’s
not fair!” Joe shouted. “My Pa won’t
like it, me not being allowed to eat lunch,” Joe dared.
“I’m
not worried about what your father likes or dislikes. Personally, I would tend to think that your
father is much too lenient with you.
What you need, young man, is the seat of your
pants warmed. Now, I would suggest that
you do as instructed or you will find sitting very uncomfortable for the rest
of the day.”
Joe’s
mouth dropped opened but he fought the urge to make a snappy comeback. He spun around on the heels of his boots and
stomped to the corner. How dare that
despicable man speak ill of his father?
Joe glanced back at the teacher and when he was sure that Mr. Edison was
not looking, he stuck out his tongue at the man. Mr. Edison held Joe’s lunch in his hand and
walked out of the classroom. Joe sneaked
a peek out the window and watched as the man tossed the boy’s sack lunch into
the trash barrel outside. His mouth
dropped opened in surprise.
“Dadburnit,”
he said, using a familiar term often used by his middle brother. “And Hop Sing sent me a piece of chocolate
cake, too,” he grumbled to himself.
Just
then, the back door opened and Lucas slipped inside. Joe spun around shocked at the daring older
boy.
“What
are you doin’ in here?” whispered Joe, glancing out the window to see Mr. Edison
talking and laughing with a group of his students.
“Oh,
I just thought I’d see how ya was doin’ Cartwright,” laughed Lucas.
“You
better get outta here before Mr. Edison comes in and catches ya,” warned Joe.
Lucas
laughed, “he ain’t gonna catch me, he’s talkin’ to them girls. Hey, Little Joe thanks for not squealin’ on
me this mornin’. I owe ya one, pal,”
Lucas said and then moved to the teacher’s desk. He pulled opened first one drawer, prowled
inside and then slammed it shut, moving to the next one.
“Hey,
get outta there. What’d ya think your
doin’?” questioned Joe, watching Lucas with suspicion. “You better leave his things alone!”
“Aw…I
ain’t gonna bother nothin. ‘Sides, I
just wanna help ya out some, ya know, get even with the old man for what he
done to ya this mornin’. Boy, I bet that
hurt, him hittin’ ya with that ruler and all,” Lucas said, pulling a
beautifully bound book from the bottom drawer.
“Hey
lookit this,” smiled Lucas, holding the book up for Joe to see. “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare,” he read.
“Put that back! Now!”
Joe shouted, forgetting about the teacher just outside the partly opened
window.
When
Lucas refused to do as Joe had suggested, Joe made a
grab for the book. Lucas burst out
laughing, holding the book high over his head where Joe could not reach it.
“Take
it easy Cartwright. I’ve
got the perfect way to get back at ole’ smartie-pants.”
Lucas
reached into his coat pocket and pulled out several juju beans. He opened the book at random and began
dropping the soft candies between the pages of the book.
Joe’s
eyes widened in horror, and he grabbed the other boy’s arm in an attempt to
stop the boy from destroying the beautiful book. Joe knew about books such as Lucas was
holding, for Adam had several just like it and they were valued and prized
possessions of his oldest brother. Joe
had been taught that all books, were to be treated
with care, for there was much to value and learn from the written words within
the pages.
“Stop!”
snapped Joe, “You’re
going to ruin it!”
Lucas
pushed Joe’s grappling hands away and snickered. “Who cares, Cartwright? It’s just an old book, and besides, old man
Edison won’t find out who done it.”
Lucas
snapped closed the book, squishing the sticky candy between the pages as he
shoved the book back into the drawer.
“See ya later,” he laughed as he slipped out through the back door.
Joe
stood motionless, scared to move and not knowing what to do. He thought about taking the book and perhaps
hiding it until he could see how much damage Lucas’ nasty trick had done, but
he was scared that he might get caught.
He thought to just leave the book as it was and hope against hope that
Mr. Edison would not take the book out and find the mess within the golden
embossed pages.
Joe
turned back to his corner, the
“Keep
moving, Mitch,” the teacher scolded.
Mitch
shrugged his shoulders at Joe and went on his way. Joe pressed his forehead against his corner
wall and fought back the tears that threatened to fill his hazel eyes. ‘Ain’t fair, I
didn’t do nuthin’,’ he mumbled under his breath.
“Did
you say something, Joseph?” inquired Mr. Edison, as he pulled his desk chair
out and sat down.
Joe
glanced over his shoulder in the teacher’s direction, astonished that the man
had heard his muted remark. “No…no sir,”
Joe said in a soft voice.
“Good,
now, press your nose against the wall and do not move from that spot until I
tell you too,” the teacher ordered.
It
was getting harder and harder for Joe to fight back the tears, but he took a
deep breath and did as instructed. The
day seemed to drone on and on as Joe stood silently with his nose pressed
against the wall. His back ached from
having to lean forward and the backs of his legs had begun to cramp. Joe fought back the tears, he felt himself
nearing the brink of breaking down and asking the teacher for leniency, but his
pride would shoot forth from deep within at the last minute and stop him.
It
was nearing the end of the day when he heard the sound that he had been
dreading all day. He glanced over his
shoulder at Mr. Edison who had his back to him and stared in horror as the
substitute teacher pulled the book of Shakespeare from the bottom drawer of his
desk. Joe cast a quick glance toward the
back of the room where Lucas Tatum was also watching the removal of the
book. The other boy caught Joe’s slight
movement and unseen by the teacher, mouthed a daring warning to Joe that he
best keep his mouth shut.
Mr.
Edison cleared his throat and scooted back his chair. “Class, if I may have your attention. I have in my hand a most delightful book that
I aim to share with each of you. It was
a gift from a very trusted and loyal friend of mine who has now passed
away. It is one of my most cherished
keepsakes.
From
his corner, Joe groaned, as his heart grew heavy with dread for Lucas. Though he didn’t really care for the boy, he
didn’t necessarily hate him either, and the thoughts of what Mr. Edison would
do to Lucas once he found out that the boy had destroyed his book, were
weighing heavy on Joe’s young heart.
Mr.
Edison, smiled, something that Joe thought possibly the man rarely did. Joe peeked from under his arm and saw the teacher
open the book. The man froze, his face
drained of all color and for just a split second, Joe thought the tall heavyset
man might faint. Joe heard the man’s
breath expel from his lungs and was totally caught off guard when the man’s
deep-set bronzed colored eyes turned to look at him.
“Joseph
Cartwright,” growled the man in a voice that though very low and deep, sent
spasms of fear racing through his veins.
“Come over here…now!”
The
voice was so calm and collected that he was sure that he was the only person in
the class, except for Lucas Tatum, that knew just how angry the teacher really
was. Joe glanced up once again into the
man’s eyes, judging his anger and rating it on a scale of one to ten, a sure
twenty. Joe gulped and slowly turned to
face the enraged man.
“Did
you want me?” Little Joe asked in a tiny, wee voice that started the classroom
of children giggling. Joe had his
pointer finger pressed into his chest, worried, for he had no idea that
The
teacher turned dark angry eyes at his class, bringing an immediate halt to the
laughter and then turned back to face Little Joe.
The
teacher snapped his finger and pointed at a spot on the floor directly in front
of him, but said not a word. Joe inched
closer little by little until he stood exactly where Mr. Edison had indicated.
“Yessir?”
stammered Joe, his voice quivering as he spoke.
“What
do you know about this?”
Joe’s
eyes were opened wide. The candy treats
had certainly ruined the highly regarded treasure. Joe moved his head ever so slightly and
glanced back at Lucas. Lucas had allowed
his body to slump down into his seat, making himself almost invisible behind
the bigger boy who sat directly in front of him.
Without
warning,
“I…I…I…”
“Stop
babbling, you simple minded little fool, and answer my question!” the teacher
requested in a sharp tone.
Joe
bristled at the name he was just called and from somewhere deep within his
inner self, Joe found the courage to speak up.
“Who you calling a fool? I ain’t no fool, you
old…you old…”
Joe
stopped suddenly for the man had turned and picked up his thick wooden
paddle. “I asked you one simple
question, and you cannot even give me an answer. I will give you five seconds to tell me who
and why my book was destroyed and after that, you will get a thrashing like you
have never had before. And…you had
better not lie to me!”
Joe
began to panic, his eyes sought Lucas’ and they begged the other boy to own up
to what he had done.
“One…two…three…four…”
Joe’s
eyes filled with tears and his chin quivered as he chewed on his bottom lip.
“Five…”
“I
don’t know…honest…Mr. Edison…I don’t know,” cried Joe, taking a step back from
the advancing man.
“A
lying tongue will send you straight to hell, young man. Hasn’t your father ever taught you that lying
is one of the seven things that the Lord doth hate? Or doesn’t your father care?” shouted Mr.
Edison.
“He
cares…” stammered Joe. “He…taught me
that it’s wrong to lie…you stop saying mean things about my Pa…ya hear me?”
shouted Joe as he pressed his back up against the wall.
Mr.
Edison reached out and grabbed Joe by the upper arm and yanked him
forward. Joe could see the man’s
nostrils flaring as he spoke and the red fiery sparks from the man’s eyes. Joe chanced a quick look at the top of the
man’s head, half expecting to see horns sprouting from under the man’s thining
hair. Surely this man was the devil,
come to wreak terror in his heart believed Joe.
“You
did this!” ranted the man, pulling Joe forward to face the front of the class.
“ME?”
screamed Joe, suddenly terribly frightened.
“I
didn’t do it…honest Mr. Edison,” pleaded Joe inbetween sobs. “I’d never destroy a book, my pa taught me
better’n that…honest, it wasn’t me,” stammered Joe.
Newell Edison yanked hard on Joe’s arm, pulling him up on
his tiptoes. He leaned his face down,
close to Joe’s. “Then who did it and
when? There hasn’t been another person
in the classroom while I have been out except you, at the
Joe
was shaking his head back and forth; the tears ran from his eyes and dripped
off his quivering chin. “No…no…it wasn’t
me…it was…it was…I don’t know…who it was,” he lied.
Newell
Edison dragged the trembling boy over to his desk and forced him to lean across
the front, his backside facing the frightened children who sat and watched, too
terrorized to say or do anything.
“Learn
well children. This is what becomes of
an unruly, sinful, willful and disrespectful son of Satan, whose father is more
engrossed in amassing a fortune than in teaching his wayward son the ways of
the Lord,” shouted Newell as he swung back his arm.
“Repent
sinner, for the wages of sin is death!”
The
paddled landed hard against the backside of the young boy. Joe’s body jerked forward in a natural reflex,
attempting to escape the next blow.
Again, the paddled connected with the fleshy part of Joe’s anatomy. Joe bit down hard on his lip to keep from
crying out loud and giving the raving man the pleasure of hearing him weep.
Three
more times Joe felt the thick wooden board across his bottom. The fiery sensation that he felt through his
clothes sent an outpouring of immense pain shooting upward into his upper body,
and downward through the backs of his legs.
Joe
heard his own voice as he cried aloud for the man to stop. One final blow was delivered to the
devastated youth. His legs buckled and
Joe would have fallen to his knees when
Mitch
turned tear filled eyes up at the substitute teacher. “You’re a monster,
you’re the devil, not Little Joe. You
just wait until Ben Cartwright finds out what ya done to his boy!”
Mitch
pulled Joe to his feet, but Joe, heartbroken as well as humiliated at having
been called a liar, and whipped to tears in front of the entire class, jerked
free of his friend’s grasp and fled the classroom. Mitch glared up at the teacher and ran off
after his best friend.
Once
out into the open, his vision blurred by the tears that filled his eyes, Joe
ran. He wasn’t aware of the direction in
which he ran, but none the less he ran.
Mitch stood on the tiny porch and shading his eyes from the sun’s bright
rays, searched ardently for his friend.
“JOE?”
he shouted as he caught a glimpse of Joe’s jacket as Joe dashed into the
woods. “Wait up!”
Joe
ran for what seemed like an eternity before his legs gave out on him and he
crashed to the ground. Joe lay face down
in the dirt, weeping, not fully able to believe that the teacher actually
believed that he had been responsible for putting the juju beans in the
treasured book.
Mitch
spied Joe just yards ahead, lying on the ground and he rushed on until he
dropped to his knees beside of his friend.
He could hear Joe crying and the sound tore at his heart. He knew that his friend had been disgraced
and humiliated in front of everyone, and then to break down and cry in front of
his friends had been the last straw for the proud youngest Cartwright.
“Joe?”
Mitch whispered. “Ya all right, buddy?”
Mitch
heard Joe sniffing his nose. “Go
away…just leave me alone,” Joe grumbled.
“Aw…come
on Little Joe…I’m ya best friend. I seen ya cry before, shoot, you’ve even seen
me cry,” Mitch said hopefully.
“It
ain’t that…it’s…it’s…what he said about my Pa…now go away…please,” sobbed Joe.
“Joe…”
“GO
AWAY…I DON’T WANT YA HERE!” screamed Joe raising his head just enough off the
ground to glance at his friend.
Mitch
stood to his feet and began slowly backing off from where Joe laid. He continued until he was better than ten
feet away and out of Joe’s range of sight.
He sat down on a log and waited.
Joe
refused to move or get up, he remained on the ground for better than fifteen
minutes before raising his head once more and looking around him. He could not see Mitch behind him and
thinking he was alone, pulled himself up to sit on his knees. He groaned loudly as the pain in his backside
intensified. Slowly he hauled himself up
to his feet and stretched before turning around.
“What
the?” he stammered as his eyes met Mitch’s.
Mitch smiled a crooked little smile and then laughed, standing to his
feet and moving to stand next to Joe.
“Ya
didn’t think I’d really leave ya out here all by yourself, did ya?” the blue
eyed blond smiled.
Joe
wiped the dampness from his face and giggled.
“No, I should have known you’d be close by. You’re worse than my brothers, ya know that?”
Joe grinned.
“Come
on, we’d better get back and get our horses, old man Edison should be gone by
now.” Mitch fell into step beside Joe
and together the two friends walked slowly back to the schoolhouse.
“Does
it hurt?” Mitch asked a little while later as he watched Joe limp along.
Joe
cut his eyes over at Mitch. “What do you
think? Hell yes, it hurts! My butt feels like someone set a branding
iron to it.”
Mitch
couldn’t help but giggle and when he did, Joe stopped and folded his arms
across his chest. “So, ya think it’s
funny, do you? Well, you just wait until
you get home and your pa finds out what you said to the teacher. You’re butt is gonna be hurtin’, same as
mine!” declared Joe and then giggled when he saw the color drain from his best
friend’s face.
“I
didn’t think about that,” stammered Mitch.
“Ya reckon Mr. Edison will go visit our fathers?”
“I’d
bet my life on it. I can just see him
now, yelling at my Pa about what a misguided son he has and how if I don’t
change my ways, I’m doomed to hell.” Joe
stopped and looked at Mitch. “Pa’s gonna
be really mad at me this time, Mitch.
I’ll probably never be able to sit down again, not after Pa gets
finished with me.”
Mitch
who had stopped along side Joe started walking again, “But ya didn’t do
anything…did ya? Now, don’t go getting’
mad at me, I’m just asking’,” said Mitch when he saw the sudden anger flash in
Joe’s eyes.
“Ya
didn’t really put those juju beans in his book,
everyone knows that the only person at school that likes those things is Lucas
Tatum. But what about
this morning? Who threw old man
“Lucas,
he thought it was funny. I was just
trying to get everything put back on Mr. Edison’s desk before he saw what
happened. I just got caught, that’s why
he blamed me, like always,” groaned Joe.
“Then
during the break, Lucas slipped in through the back door and said he had the
perfect plan to get even with the teacher for what he did to me. He started going through the desk and then when
he found the book, he started stuffing the jujus between the pages. I was so scared, Mitch. I didn’t know what to do, I thought about
taking the book and hiding it until I could see if I could clean it up, but I
knew that if I did happen to get caught with it, it really would look like I
was the guilty one.”
Joe
snickered softly, not really finding the situation funny in the least. “Didn’t do me much good, I still got blamed
and that darned old teacher wouldn’t even believe me. It ain’t fair Mitch, when I get home, I’m
still gonna be in trouble, and I didn’t do nothin’!”
The
boys had reached the small stable where the horses where housed during the
school hours. Joe glanced up toward the
schoolhouse and was glad to see that Mr. Edison had left for the day. He sighed, he knew
it was just a matter of time before the man confronted his father about what
happened.
The
boys hurried to saddle their horses and lead them from the barn. Joe gave one last look at the school and then
stopped in his tracks. It appeared that
someone had left the door standing opened.
Hesitating, Joe debated about going to shut the door or to just let it
be. He knew the right thing would be to
secure the building, but a resentment toward the
teacher in question and about whether he really cared that someone might come
in and steal things from the school, fogged his thinking.
“Look,”
said Joe, pointing to the opened door.
“Mr. Know-it-all forgot to shut and lock the door.”
“Yeah,
I see. What’cha goin’
to do about it?” Mitch wanted to know, as he stood ready to mount his
horse. “Ya ain’t gonna do him a favor,
are ya, not after what all he done to ya today?” Mitch stated flatly.
Joe
pushed back his hat and scratched his head.
“I shouldn’t…but I’d hate for anything else to get ruined. As much as I dislike Miss Jones, it wouldn’t
be fair to her, to find all her stuff messed up or stolen when she comes
back. Stay here Mitch,” ordered Joe
handing his friend the reins to his horse.
He
limped his way back to the front of the building and reached for the knob to
pull the door closed. The door was just
about closed completely when Joe’s ears picked up on a rustling sound from
inside. Glancing back at Mitch, Joe put
his finger to his lips, giving his friend a silent signal to be quiet. He then wiggled his pointer finger at Mitch,
motioning for him to join him. Mitch
dropped the reins and hurried to Joe’s side.
“What’s
wrong?” whispered the boy, trying to look around Joe to get a peek at what was
happening.
“Someone’s
inside,” whispered Joe. “Come on, but be
quiet,” he ordered and then eased the door opened another inch or two.
The
racket inside grew in volume as the two boys pushed opened the door. Joe moved his head around the edge of the
door to get a better look. He stopped
suddenly, causing Mitch to plow into him and sending him stumbling into the
room.
Two
frightened boys whirled around, startled by the blundering pair that had
discovered them.
“Hey,
Cartwright, what the hell are you doing back here? I thought you went running home to your
daddy!” laughed Lucas Tatum, when he saw that the intruder was none other than
Joe Cartwright.
“What
are YOU doing in here? Looking for
something else to destroy and blame on me?” retorted Joe, angrily.
“I
don’t care who gets the blame for this.
Timmy and I plan of wreckin’ the place.
I hate school anyway, so if we do a good ‘nough job, the school board
will have to shut it down. That’s one
way of getting’ rid of the nasty ole teacher.
What’ll ya think, Cartwright?
Wanna join us?” laughed Lucas as he began turning over desks.
“No,
and you better stop Lucas before it’s too late,” Joe demanded as he glanced at
Mitch.
“What
are you goin’ to do, Joe?” Mitch said in a whining voice. “You can’t stop them, look at them, they’re
nuts!”
Joe
was watching, and what he perceived, was making him sick to his stomach. Lucas and Timmy were turning over every desk
in the room and had started slinging chairs about in the air. Some were breaking apart and one had already
been tossed through the window, shattering the glass. Joe and Mitch watched in horror as the other
two boys yanked and pulled on the chalkboard until it had fallen from its
hinges that held it in place on the long wall.
When the team of destructive boys began stomping on the board and
breaking it to pieces, Joe had seen enough.
“STOP
IT, RIGHT NOW!” he screamed.
His
voice had cracked and sounded shrill, but it had the desired effect.
“Who’s
goin’ make us?” taunted Lucas, stepping across large pieces of the chalkboard
and coming to stand in front of Little Joe.
“You ain’t gonna do it, cause you’re a crybaby,” laughed Lucas and was
soon joined by Timmy who stood in front of Mitch.
The
four boys had never liked one another. Lucas
and Timmy were a year or so older than Mitch and Joe and had always dubbed it
their duty to make school life as miserable as possible for the two younger and
somewhat smaller boys. They had tangled
many times over the years, usually it was Joe and Mitch
who came away looking the worse for wear and had never really taken the others
in a fight.
“I
wouldn’t be so sure of that Tatum. I
might cry, when beat like an animal, but I’ll never be afraid of you, never,”
he said in a voice barren of fear.
Lucas
studied the face of the younger boy and for the first time ever, saw something
in the hazel eyes that he had never seen there before, and he took a step
backward.
“Clean
up this mess,” Joe ordered, sensing that Lucas had seen the deep embedded
resentment that had built over the course of the long day.
“Make
us,” taunted Timmy and then laughed.
“Come on Luke, let’s get the teacher’s desk.”
When
Timmy turned and stepped away, Lucas did the same but was stopped by Joe, who
had grabbed his shoulder. “Oh no you don’t,” he said and threw the first punch.
That
was all it took, chaos broke out in the classroom. Bodies were slung about the broken debris but
each time that one boy landed on the floor, he sprung to his feet. Lucas and Joe were locked together, swapping
blows. Blood had begun to seep down the
faces of both boys but still the two fought.
They had inched their way closer to the door; Joe tripped and fell on
his back. Lucas jumped through the air,
hoping to land on Joe who lay sprawled among the rubbish, but Joe rolled out of
the way and Lucas landed with a thud on his face.
Joe
heard the boy scream in pain and paused, just long enough to give Lucas time to
turn over. Blood spurted from the boy’s
nose, his wailing brought Timmy and Mitch to their senses and both stumbled
their way over to where Joe stood over Lucas who continued with his loud
shrieking.
“Lookit what ya done, now! Ya broke my
nose!” sobbed Lucas, holding his hand up to his face and glaring at the boys
who stood over him.
“Me? I didn’t break ya nose, ya tried to jump me
and landed on your face!” snapped Joe.
“Liar,
ya hit me…just wait ‘til I tell my Pa!” Lucas shot back.
“Just
wait until I tell all of your Pas!” shouted Roy and Clem from the doorway.
All
four boy’s heads snapped around and stared in frightened surprise at the
sheriff and his deputy.
“Clem, let’s take’em all over ta the jail.”
Roy
nodded for Mitch and Joe to move on out and he followed behind his best
friend’s son, shaking his head sadly and wondering what in the world had gotten
into Ben’s youngest son that he should mingle with hooligans like the Tatum boy
and his side-kick, Timmy.
It
was hours later that the fathers of the four boys had been sent for. Each man grumbled and complained about having
to report to the sheriff and post bail for their sons as if their child had
been a common criminal. All but one and that one sat stone silent in a chair,
waiting for his own son to be released to him.
Mr.
Tatum and Timmy’s father were most vocal, just like their loud-mouthed
sons. Lucas and Timmy had started right
in, once they were hauled off to jail about how everything had been Joe and
Mitch’s fault and how it was them that had happened upon the other two tearing
apart the classroom and why Joe had deemed it his right. The ranting and raving had continued even
after all four fathers, and Mr. Edison had entered the jailhouse. Roy and Clem were hard put to bring an end to
the ruckus.
Meanwhile,
Joe and Mitch sat solemnly and quiet, each boy eyeing their fathers from
downcast eyes, and lashes laden with the dampness of tears.
Ben
heard Joe sniff his nose and watched how his son squirmed about in his
chair. On more than one occasion, he
watched a troubled and frightened young boy wrestle with an unknown pain that
seemed to have settled in the lower part of his son’s anatomy. Yet Ben had held his tongue, he would save
what he had to say, for the privacy of his own home.
Deep
within his heart, he knew that Joe would never take a part in the shenanigans
that he was being blamed for. Yet the
boy had been caught red handed, by the sheriff and his deputy, but Ben still
refused to make a judgment call until he had heard his son’s side of the story.
And
then there was Newell Edison, Miss Jones’ replacement teacher. Ben watched how the man continually cast his eyes
at Joe and how the boy seemed to cringe each time that he felt the man’s eyes
on his face. Ben listened as the teacher
described the events of the day and he watched Joe’s face and the troubled eyes
that filled with tears that dripped slowly down his face.
Joe
too was listening, he seemed shocked by the way that the teacher told his side
of what happened and was even more stunned when the teacher had failed to tell
the sheriff and his father about the wicked things that had been said to him. Joe wanted to run to his father and blurt out
everything, even the way that Mr. Edison had beaten him with the paddle, but he
had seen his father watching him and Joe was unsure of the expressions that he
had seen come across his father’s face.
Therefore he held back, and waited, with dread.
“I
think I’ve heard just about enough,”
“
“He’s
what?” the teacher stuttered.
“That’s
right, Ben Cartwright is head of the school
board. Is there something wrong with
that?”
“Pa,
it was Cartwright’s fault, lookit what he done, he broke my nose!” grumbled
Lucas, glaring down at the smaller boy.
“Aw…shut
up, hell, ya probably deserved it. Now
get ya butt on that horse and get home afore I break ya dang fool neck!”
growled Mr. Tatum as he gave his son a solid swat to his behind.
Joe
glanced up at his father and noted Ben was watching him. The boy gulped and lowered his head as he
untied the reins from around the hitching post.
Joe pulled his aching body up and using care to protect his blistered
bottom he lowered himself into the saddle.
When Ben was mounted, he allowed his horse to fall into step next to his
father’s.
It
was a quiet ride back to the ranch. Joe kept
going over the events of the day in his head and trying to think just how he
would explain himself to his father. If
need be, he reasoned, he would ask, beg if he had too, for his father to wait
until his backside was better before giving him the thrashing that he knew was
due.
It
was after dark by the time that Joe and Ben finally arrived home. Adam and Hoss were sitting on the side porch
and hurried to greet their father and brother.
One look at the long face their father wore and the red rimmed eyes of
their youngest brother told both, Adam and Hoss that something bad had
happened.
“We’ll
take your horses for you,” offered Adam when Ben had dismounted.
“Thanks
son, and please, you and Hoss find something to keep you busy for a spell. Joe and I have some things to talk over,
don’t we son?” Ben stated, watching how Joe’s chin had suddenly began to
quiver.
“Yessir,”
Joe said meekly, glancing sideways at his brothers.
Ben
placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder, taking the boy by surprise and causing him
to jump. Ben’s heart lurched at the way
this son’s body stiffened at his touch.
“Let’s
go inside, Joseph.” Ben gently nudged
the boy forward and slowly Joe made his way to the house. He paused and waited as his father opened the
door and led the way inside. Ben stepped
aside, allowing Joe to enter and then closed the door.
Joe
jumped again; it had sounded overly loud in the empty house and made him feel
as if he had just been locked away for the remainder of his life. Joe swallowed the lump that had suddenly
produced itself within the confines of his throat and turned to his
father. The sudden fear of telling his
father and his frayed emotions caused him to shiver and his eyes pooled with
tears, even before meeting his father’s steady gaze. He struggled to form words, to be the first
to speak, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out.
Ben
cupped the quivering chin in his hand………………..
“And
that’s the whole story, Pa…like I said, it wasn’t my fault and it was an
accident. I never meant for the school
to get demolished like it did…honest,” cried Joe, who by now was wrapped in his
father’s loving arms, as he and Ben sat together on the settee.
“Joseph,”
whispered Ben as he placed a kiss on top of the unruly curls. “I’m so sorry son, that you had such a
horrible day.”
“It
isn’t your fault
“I’m
not sure son, I suppose we’ll have to have a meeting and see what we come up
with,” Ben explained.
“What
about Lucas and Timmy? Will they have’ta
go to jail?” Joe turned his head up,
just enough so that he could see his father’s face.
“I
hope not Joe. They’re just boys, unruly
boys mind you, but boys just the same.
I’d hate to think of them having to spend time in jail, but that’s not
saying they shouldn’t be punished. They
should, but then that’s up to the school board, as to whether or not they file
charges,” Ben said.
The
front door opened then and Hoss and Adam came in. “Sorry to bother you
Adam
stepped aside and allowed the visitors to enter the room. Ben had stood to his feet, Joe stood next to
him and when he saw the small group of individuals, he gasped loudly. Ben’s
attention immediately turned from the door to his son and saw how quickly Joe
had lost all color in his face.
Ben
slipped his arm protectively about the boy’s shoulders and cringed when he felt
the tremors that raced though his son’s body.
“It’s okay Joe, I’m right here,” he whispered softly so that only Joe
could hear.
Joe
looked up and when he saw his father smile at him, he relaxed.
“Roy,
Mr. Edison, Tatum, what brings you gentlemen out, this time of night?”
questioned Ben, moving to make room for the men to sit down.
When
they all had been seated, Ben moved to his red leather chair and sat down. Joe watched with frightened eyes and when Ben
motioned for him to join him, Joe stepped over the mass of feet and sat down on
the arm of his father’s chair. Instantly, Joe felt the pressure of his father’s
fingers as they gently squeezed his leg where the comforting hand rested.
“Mr.
Cartwright, perhaps I should begin,” stated
“I
must admit, I owe the boy an apology.
I’m sure he has by now, told you all that has transpired today in my
classroom?” he hinted.
Ben
glanced up at Joe and smiled. “Yes, he
has told me everything…including what was said.”
Mr.
Edison hung his head. “I am so very,
very ashamed of myself.” He glanced up
at the men in the room. “I have never, in the twenty years of teaching, never, ever treated
a student of mine in the manner that I have treated your son. I am most sorry, Mr. Cartwright, Joseph, most
sorry indeed.”
Ben
stood to his feet, leaving Joe to lower his body into the chair as he watched
Mr. Edison fidgeting with the button on his coat. Joe could feel all his anger slowly leave
him. He stifled a laugh; he shocked
himself by admitting that he actually felt sorry for the poor man, as his father
stood over the nervous teacher.
“I
would think that you should be sorry.
From what my son has told me, I have every right under the law to have
you arrested for assault and battery. Or
did you forget that Joseph is just a minor?” Ben stated in a voice that spoke
none of the inner turmoil he had been feeling just minutes before, when his
broken hearted son had wept and related to him how he had been abused by the
very man who now sat in his living room making excuses for his own behavior.
“Ben,”
said Mr. Tatum, who had been sitting quietly, listening to the
proceedings. “Mr. Edison was right in
thinking what he did. Everything that he
said was correct; an unruly, disobedient young man did ruined
his treasured book. But it wasn’t your
son who did it; it was mine, Lucas. Mr.
Edison’s only mistake was punishing the wrong boy. He was misinformed, Ben, can’t you understand
that he…”
“I
can understand the mistake in identity, what I cannot understand is his method
of punishment. My son will carry the
mark of this man’s paddle for a very long time.
And for that I am not happy. No
man has the right to abuse a child in such a manner. And that was what it was, abuse, plain and
simple.”
Ben
turned to Newell Edison. “As head of the
school board, I’m going to ask the board to vote for your dismissal. I’m sorry
“Now
get out of my house, before I change my mind and have you arrested for beating
my son.”
Newell
dropped his head and turned away.
Ben
nodded his head and followed the sheriff and Mr. Tatum to the door. Mr. Tatum turned to Ben. “Ben, I’m very sorry for what my son
did. And I’m very ashamed of him. He caused a lot of people a lot of misery
today. What can I say? I don’t rightly know cause
I guess I’m still in shock.”
Ben
placed his hand on the other man’s shoulder.
“Tatum, everyone makes mistakes.
We don’t always like what our sons do, but we can always hope that they
learn from their mistakes and try never to make the same ones twice.”
Tatum
laughed lightly. “Luke told me what
really happened and then he wanted to go tell
Ben
nodded his head in agreement. “It sure
is, and you have to remember, he’s still just a boy. Give him time, lots of love, but most of all,
understanding and compassion.” Ben
glanced over his shoulder at Joe who had fallen to sleep in his chair. “Works every time, Tatum,
every time.”
“Thanks
Ben,” smiled Tatum, following Ben’s eyes.
“Best get that boy in bed, he’s had one hell of a day…and look, he’s
still smiling.”
Ben,
Adam and Hoss all turned to look at Joe’s face.
The boy was sound asleep and snoring softly, but it was true…a smidgen
of a smile tugged at the sleeping boy’s mouth.
Ben
leaned down and gathered his son into his arms and carried him upstairs. Adam led the way and quickly turned back the
pile of blankets and waited until his father had placed Joe into the bed before
pulling the covers up to Joe’s chin. He
stepped back, watching as Ben sat on the side of the bed, tenderly stroking the
side of the cherubic little face with his callused yet gentle hands.
Adam
nodded to Hoss and together they left their father alone with Joe. When they had gone, Ben leaned down and
placed a kiss on his son’s brow.
“Good
night Precious.” Ben smiled. “I know you think you’re too old for nick
names, but I can’t help myself. It’s times like this that I am reminded of just how much I
love you,” whispered Ben as his hand moved to gather Joe’s smaller one into his
own.
Ben
noted the scrapes that dotted his son’s knuckles from where Joe had been
fighting. Ben detested fighting,
especially when the fight was over something foolish. But this time, smiled Ben as he kissed the
back of the bruised fingers, his son had been fighting for something that he
knew was right, something that Joe had believed in, and amid the confusion, Joe
had somehow come out the victor and had, unknowingly, proved his point.
Having
been stuck between a rock and a hard place, meaning that Joe could either choose to speak up or remain silent and pay the
consequences, Joe had unwittingly gotten his point across to the other person. Hadn’t Lucas Tatum come forth and admitted
the truth about what he had done and allowed Joe to carry the blame? Ben smiled and placed Joe’s hand under the
blanket. Both boys had learned something
today…it’s wrong to let another person shoulder the responsibility for
something you have done, and it’s wrong not to speak up and tell the truth
about who committed the wrong-doing. It was a costly lesson for both boys, for
neither would be sitting comfortably for several days.
Lucas
had agreed to help with repairing the chairs and desks, along with Timmy who
had learned that it’s not always wise to be a follower, but better to pick and
choose more carefully when asked to tag along after someone.
Mr.
Edison had learned a lesson today as well, a very costly lesson. The price of a treasured item can never be
measured in comparison with the cost of a child’s life. A treasured item is just that, an item that
can be bought for a price, but a child’s life is priceless, and once shattered,
can never really be what it had once been when still innocent.
Ben
leaned down and gave Joe one last goodnight kiss. The long lashes fluttered and seconds later,
Ben found himself staring down into the sleep-laden eyes of his son.
“Go
back to sleep sweetheart,” whispered Ben.
“What
are you doing, Pa?” muttered Joe.
Ben
smiled and brushed back a stray curl.
“Just watching you sleep, that’s all, and counting my lucky stars.”
“Lucky
stars? How many ya got?” Joe smiled
slightly and then closed his eyes again as he drifted off to sleep.
“Right
now, I’d estimate…about three.”
THE END