"THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF NUMBERS"
By K.K. Shaulis


“Quiet!!!” Ben Cartwright roared from the entry way of the ranch house and slammed the front door angrily. It had been a particularly tough wet cold rainy day rounding up strays. He had forgotten his lunch, slipped in the mud countless times and had dealt with obstinate cattle for at least seven hours without a break. His head was beginning to pound. And the constant bickering between his three grown-up sons and 27 year old step-niece Josephine who was visiting the family wasn’t helping. He had listened to their arguing all through dinner and for well over half an hour after that and, despite the fact that it was still pouring, had even gone outside to get a breath of fresh air and some peace and quiet. And here he was back after another half-hour and still they were at it. He couldn’t take any more. He decided that he had to take matters into his own hands so to speak using a tried and true method he hadn’t used in years.

Josey, Adam, Hoss and Joe all stopped in mid-argue jumping as the slamming door startled them. Mouths open, they looked warily over at the head of the family who was scowling furiously at them, his hands on his hips.

“I’ll give you all to the count of ten to get up to your rooms or else!!!” Ben looked at each of them in turn, his dark brown eyes blazing. “ONE...!” his eyes fell on his little red headed niece. “…TWO...!” he took a step closer to her.

It worked.

“Good night, Uncle Ben,” she quickly kissed his cheek, spun on her heel and ran up the stairs, grabbing her book and shawl as she went.

The three Cartwright boys looked at each other and laughed.

Ben did not - - - laugh, that is. “…THREE...!” he announced glaring at his baby son in a way that made him feel like he was eight again instead of eighteen.

The broad smile instantly vanished from Joe’s handsome face. Oh-oh.

“…FOUR...!” Ben shifted his gaze to his 24 year old middle offspring.

Hoss gulped, blinked his blue eyes and looked at Joe who returned the look.

“…FIVE...!” Ben’s right hand flew to his silver belt buckle. “…SIX...!”

Hoss and Joe finally realized that they could be in big trouble if they didn’t do as they were told when both of their father’s hands began to unfasten his belt. “Good night, Pa!” they said in unison, turned tail and took off for the staircase.

Three down, one to go.

Assuming incorrectly that their father could not have possibly been referring to him, 30 year old Adam moved so he could stand side by side with Ben grinning and watching his younger brothers trip over each other on the steps. He even went so far as to clap his father on the shoulder convivially, believing that they both were sharing a good laugh at the expense of his brothers and cousin. Boy, was he wrong!

Does he think I’m joking? Ben was amazed that Adam was still standing there grinning. “…SEVEN…!” he proceeded with his count, all the while frowning at his eldest.

“Come on, Pa, you’re kidding,” Adam suddenly looked worried, exasperated and flustered all at the same time. “I’m really too old…”

“…EIGHT…!” Ben obviously wasn’t kidding. He took the buckle in his right hand.

“But, Pa…,” Adam protested, not taking his eyes off his father’s right hand.

“You know the rule as well as everybody else, boy!” Ben snarled like a grizzly as he took one end of his belt and slowly began to pull it out of his pants’ loops.

Boy? Adam’s eyes grew round as saucers as his father continued and he desperately tried to remember ‘the rule.’

“…NINE…!” It was almost…

Adam suddenly remembered much to his dismay but thought it best if he continued to act nonchalant.

“Okay, Pa, you win,” Adam chuckled, put his hands in his front pants’ pockets and started leisurely toward the staircase.

“…TEN!!!” Ben bellowed pulling his belt completely off and taking a step toward Adam’s slowly moving backside.

“Good night, Pa!” his oldest jumped although there was no contact between the belt and himself and beat his own personal best time in getting out of his parent’s sight.

Ben chuckled. Even though it took a little more effort on his part than it used to, he was quite pleased with himself that he still could instill the fear of God in all of his grown-up sons and niece. He rethreaded his belt in his pants and sighed looking at the empty room with a certain amount of satisfaction. And the best part of it was that he could enjoy the entire downstairs of his house in peace and quiet. He rearranged the pillows on the couch to his liking and stretched himself out to relish the warmth of the roaring fire in glorious silence. Too bad it didn’t work on cattle, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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Many thanks to David Dortort for his creation of Bonanza in general and the Cartwrights. The author does not claim ownership of any of the aforementioned characters, just the story. This story is not intended to infringe on any known copyrights. Josephine Marie Cartwright © December, 2004, is a copyrighted character belonging to the author and so does the story. ALL INTERNATIONAL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

 

 

 

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