A Spoof for Stephen
It was the bright light pouring through the bedroom window that first alerted
Stephen to the fact that something was different. The sheer insistence of
the sun was simply not consistent with the dull dreichness of a Scottish winter.
He got up and pulled open the curtains and was amazed to see that Riverside
Drive had disappeared, to be replaced by tall pines, sandy soil and, in the
distance, a large, log-built house. Intrigued, he got dressed and ran outside.
In the distance, Stephen could see two young women on horseback. They looked
strangely familiar, so he jogged towards them, hoping they would be able to
help. Up close, he could see that they were even lovelier than he had even
dared to dream.
“Aren’t you …?” he gasped, slightly out of breath after his run, and
they smiled indulgently at him.
“I’m the blonde,” said one, “And this is the redhead.”
“We’re the Giggly Sisters,” the other girl added.
So far, so confusing. Stephen decided it was probably best not to enquire
any further. It had not escaped his notice that both girls carried whips and,
for some reason, this made him feel slightly nervous. He wondered if two
girls constituted a posse, but before he could think upon this too deeply,
a sudden sound of horse’s hooves aroused him from his reverie.
A young man came galloping out of the trees, riding on a pinto horse. He
was slim, with a muscular torso and wonderfully curly hair and it was immediately
obvious that he was an expert rider.
“Hi there!” the young man called out, his green eyes twinkling merrily and
lighting up his incredibly handsome face. The girls sighed in unison and had
some difficulty staying on their horses.
“Welcome to the Ponderosa! I’m Joe Cartwright!”
To say that Stephen was taken aback would have been somewhat of an understatement.
He was utterly gobsmacked. “What?” Stephen stammered. “This is a wind-up,
right?” He looked suspiciously at the redhead, who looked the most familiar.
He seemed to remember that she had once had fair hair, like her sister, but
that memory was almost lost in the mists of time.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” said the redhead. “You know me after all, and
I’ve never let anything happen to you.” There was a pause, in which the word
‘yet’ appeared in everyone’s mind. “Just have a good time.”
“Let’s get you a horse,” Joe suggested, to which the lad replied,
“I haven’t ridden much.” He noticed, with great astonishment, that he spoke
perfect English. This was a first. He wondered if the elocution lessons he’d
been thinking of taking had happened without his knowledge.
“Don’t worry,” Joe replied, airily, “We’ll look after you, and if we don’t,
continuity will. They don’t go in for people falling off their horses unless
they’re villains. Indians do a lot of falling off, so don’t put on any buckskins,
war paint or feathers, and you’ll be fine.”
“All right,” Stephen said, warily, and looked round for his house. It had
vanished. He felt a little concerned about this, but he was soon distracted
by the arrival of his horse. He had never seen an episode with one of the
hands in it before, and it came as rather a shock. He had the impression that
the Cartwrights did all the work themselves! However, he was not too sad
to see the back of the horse, for it seemed rather frisky.
“Shouldn’t the bunkhouse be over there?”
Joe smiled, revealing his white, even teeth. ”Well, sometimes it is and
sometimes it isn’t. But don’t worry about it. You’ll get used to that sort
of thing happening around here.
”Curiouser and curiouser,” thought Stephen, following Joe into the house.
A silver-haired man sat reading a paper by the fireside and his face lit
up when Joe entered the room.
“Joseph! Good to see you back, son. Who’s your friend?”
“Hi Pa. This is Stephen, a friend of the girls. He’s going to stay for a
few days, if that’s alright.”
Ben Cartwright folded the paper and shook Stephen’s hand warmly. “Welcome
to the Ponderosa. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”
Looking around the room, Stephen was almost bursting with excitement. There
was the famous horse statue, the gun rack and even the whatnot holding the
red and white patterned china. He felt very comfortable here. Joe bounded
upstairs, calling,
“I’m just going to get washed up before lunch!” This was followed by a muffled
cry of frustration. “I don’t believe it! My bedroom’s moved again!”
“Try along the hallway, Joe,” advised Ben and lead Stephen towards the guest
bedroom. The girls, who had been watching all this from the sofa, silence
groaned quietly.
“Not the downstairs guest bedroom! That’s never a good sign!”
“Why not?” Stephen asked, worriedly.
“All sorts of things happen to people who stay in the downstairs bedroom,”
they explained. “They are often villains, or crazy. Look at Tirza.”
“Hmm, I see what you mean,” Ben agreed. “It was so difficult to agree to
Joe marrying her. Thank goodness she decided to go off with her people!”
“And then there was Gunnar,” the redhead said. “Hoss’ uncle. He was a bit
suspect, too.”
“I never really liked him,” mused Ben. “But he was the Inger’s brother.
Oh, Inger, My Love,” he sighed, pensively.
Deciding the patriarch of the Ponderosa needed distracting, the blonde said,
“There wasn’t a nice Joe/Pa moment in that one. I felt quite cheated.”
“Me, too,” said Ben. “I do like a nice Joe/Pa moment. We’re so good at them.”
The twinkle in his eye assured them that he was gently taking the mickey.
“By the way,” he continued, “Are you feeling alright?” He patted the blonde
on the knee abstractedly and thought how fine she did feel … He gulped hard
and forced his attention back to the girls and Stephen, who was looking rather
blankly at him. Ben smiled kindly at him. “I forgot, you’re still new to all
this, aren’t you?”
Stephen nodded dumbly.
“Well, this is page three of the story and Joe’s still unhurt!” He turned
to Stephen and explained “The Giggly Sisters here have a penchant for maiming
Joe …”
“We do it jolly well!” interposed the blonde, but just at the moment, there
was a loud shot, followed by the sound of Joe moaning piteously.
“I should have known they couldn’t go more than 2 ½ pages with injuring
poor Joseph,” Ben said resignedly. “Hoss! Go for Doc Martin, will you? Tell
him Joe’s been shot!”
“Again!” A weak voice floated downstairs and the girls rushed the aid of
their beloved curly-haired boy.
Meanwhile, Hoss appeared out of nowhere, and nodded amiably to Stephen.
Stephen gulped. He was as tall as Hoss, there was no doubt about that, but
Hoss was at least twice as broad. “Howdy,” Hoss said, politely. “I’ll just
go and get the doc. That’s my job here, see?”
His curiosity winning out, Stephen went upstairs. He was a little surprised
to see that the stairs did actually lead to bedrooms, because he’d always
had the impression that it was a dead end up there. Certainly, the layout
didn’t seem to match the downstairs, but no one else seemed to notice, so
he decided not to say anything.
Ben and the sisters were attending to Joe. Ben stood leaning over, and the
sisters kneeled beside him. In fact, the blonde had Joe’s head in her lap.
“Does this mean you’re going to suffer from the Cartwright Curse?” Stephen
asked, interestedly.
“Oh no, not us,” the redhead said. “No, we never wear blue dresses, and
we haven’t made the mistake of getting engaged to him, either. Don’t worry,
we’re in no danger.”
“Where’s that doctor?” Joe gasped. Ben stroked his head tenderly, and the
girls gave a little sigh.
“Who did it, Joe?” Ben asked.
“A man, Pa,” Joe replied, bravely. “He climbed out of the window. He was
dressed all in black.”
“It wasn’t Adam, was it?” Stephen asked, all agog at the thought.
“No, it wasn’t Adam,” Joe responded. “I know he shot me accidentally on
purpose once, but it wasn’t him this time.”
“Are you sure?” asked the redhead. “Because we haven’t seen him since Stephen
got here.”
“Haven’t seen who?” asked a deep voice, and there was Adam, coming into
the bedroom from the hall.
“You, as it happens,” Ben said. “Poor Joe has been shot again. Help me get
him onto the bed.”
“I’ve got a bad back,” Adam protested. “Wait a minute.” He went to the door
and bellowed, “Betty!” very loudly.
Moments later, a dark-haired girl, wearing an outfit identical to Adam’s
appeared. Stephen gaped at her in astonishment. She went over to Ben and helped
him lift Joe onto the bed. She wasn’t very careful about it, either. “Who
are you?” Stephen asked, bamboozled.
“Betty Endicott,” she replied. “I’m Adam’s stand in.”
There was a burst of hastily muffled laughter at this, and Adam looked offended.
He glared at his family, who all tried to look innocent. Only the Giggly Sisters
didn’t attempt to hide their hilarity.
“I wish you two would go back to where you came from,” he said, venomously.
“Now, Adam,” Ben chided. “Just because you’re jealous of your brother, there’s
no need to act like a total boor. Besides, your rug’s on squint! How can you
expect any self-respecting girl to fancy you if you can’t get your rug straight?”
In a fit of pique, Adam tore the said toupee from his head and threw it
on the floor. Then, just to compound his childish behaviour, he stamped on
it. “Its not fair!” he bellowed. “I want beautiful girls, too!”
“Grow up,” the redhead advised him.
Fortunately, at that point, Joe groaned, and moved his legs in that poignant
way that he had. It instantly told everyone that he was feeling dreadful,
but was bravely trying to hide his agony. They clustered round his bed.
Just then, in the yard, they heard the sound of the buggy, and moments later
Doc Martin came in. He examined Joe briefly, and smiled. “As strong as a young
bull,” he said, reassuringly. “I’ll just bandage him up. You should get Roy
Coffee out here to investigate.”
Of course, what was puzzling Stephen was the not the fact that all the furniture
in Joe’s room seemed to have moved around of its own volition, but that Joe’s
bed was so short that his feet were hanging off the end of it. The blonde
had noticed this too, and was even now pulling off Joe’s boots and stroking
his feet tenderly.
“Come on!” The redhead pulled at Stephen’s arm. “We’ll go and see Roy.”
“Who’s Roy?” Stephen asked. So many strange things had been happening that
he felt a little confused.
The blonde gave a radiant, if somewhat distracted smile, as she was now
busy taking Joe’s socks off with infinite tenderness. “Oh, he’s the Sheriff
of Virginia City. In fact …”, she stopped for a moment and gave her sister
a meaningful look. The redhead grinned delightedly and the two chorused,
“He’s the Oldest Sheriff in Town!”
As they rode into town, Stephen took the opportunity to straighten up a
few things.
“When did Adam shoot Joe accidentally-on-purpose? I don’t remember that
happening?”
“He thought he was a wolf,” the blonde explained laconically.
This did not really clear things up, so Stephen persevered. “But Joe doesn’t
look anything like a wolf!”
“Exactly!” the redhead crowed triumphantly. “Why don’t you have a little
chat with Adam later on? I’m sure he’d enjoy it and he could tell you all
about what really happened.”
The blonde caught the mischievous look in her sister’s eyes. “Why not ask
him about his toupee too?”
“Adam wears a toupee too?” Stephen was astounded, but then he hadn’t noticed
Hoss’s rather obvious rug until he noticed it moving one day, when Hoss scratched
his head.
“Ben, too. They kept an entire family of wigmakers in employment between
them.”
Roy Coffee was one of the oldest men Stephen had ever seen. He moved very
slowly and had a disconcerting habit of chewing his moustache.
“It’s an old trick, “the redhead advised. “Whenever he forgets his lines,
he chews on his moustache until he remembers them or he gets prompted.”
That made perfect sense to Stephen. It was certainly more effective than
Ben’s habit of just standing there, staring wildly, with a certain amount
of restrained hysteria.
“He doesn’t look as if he’d be able to solve the quick crossword, far less
any crimes,” Stephen whispered.
The sisters smiled at his perspicacity. “How true! That’s why the Cartwrights
always have to do all the work themselves: solve the crime and arrest the
criminals. There’s really no need for Roy at all, but it reassures the viewers
to have a lawman, even if he does creak dreadfully.”
Stephen looked doubtful at this, but he remembered his manners and shook
Roy’s hand politely, and listened to him ramble on about some of the cases
he thought he’d solved.
Later, back at the ranch, Stephen noticed that Joe had miraculously recovered
from his earlier gunshot wound, and was up and around again as though nothing
had happened. “Why wasn’t there any blood?” he asked, suspiciously.
“Oh,” Joe replied, with an airy wave of his hand. “The viewers don’t like
too much blood, so we never bleed a lot.” He shot the redhead a sharp glance,
which she intercepted without any sign of embarrassment. “Apart from in certain
fanfics, which are entirely too realistic for my comfort.”
“You do suffer so well,” the redhead said, admiringly, and Joe grinned back
at her.
“She does like to maim you,” Stephen said.
“I’d noticed,” Joe said, dryly. He smiled at the blonde. “They both do.
But life simply wouldn’t be the same without them here.” He led Stephen outside,
and the girls followed.
“Now, look, your time here is almost at an end. You can’t expect to remain
her much longer. You’ve done pretty well; you’ve met the family, seen a maim,
and met Roy Coffee. Those are the main constituents of an episode. Now, just
remember what you’ve learned.”
“Everyone wears a rug, except Joe,” the redhead said, ruffling his wonderful
curls. “And Hoss doesn’t care who knows it.”
“And Joe’s bedroom moves constantly, and the bed is too short for him. You
got to witness a Joe/Pa moment, and they are vital to the series.” The blonde
was ticking things off on her fingers. “You know that continuity doesn’t work
very well, at best, and frequently not at all.”
“So,” concluded Joe, smiling, “you’ll know what to look out for as you watch
all those wonderful episodes of Bonanza. And hey, you must watch the end of
the one where Adam shoots me accidentally-on-purpose! It’s a must!”
The ranch was beginning to look hazy to Stephen. The girls, their radiant
beauty undimmed, waved to him. “See you around!” the called, and Joe waved.
The grey dreich winter morning popped into being, and Stephen realised that
he was once more back in his own bed in his own house in Scotland. On the
wall were his Bonanza pictures, and he smiled at the picture on the calendar.
Okay, he hadn’t really met Little Joe, but it sure felt like it.
Getting out of bed, he discovered that his muscles were sore, as though
he had been riding recently, although it was years since he last sat on a
horse. Glancing out of the window, he saw his neighbour and her friend (the
one she kept insisting was her twin sister, separated at birth 2 years apart!)
chatting as they prepared to climb into the car. They were both wearing very
familiar-shaped cowboy hats.
As one, as though they could feel the weight of his gaze on them, they turned
and grinned at him. For a moment, Stephen saw the Nevada sunshine, and he
shivered. Had it been a dream? Or had it happened?
The End
Giggly Sisters Productions
January 2003
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