The
Sixth Candle*
By: Rona Y.
“Joseph!”
Ben cried, as a puff of grit-laden dust eddied out of the top of the coal
chute. “Joe!” He reached back into the chute, desperately trying to reach his
son’s hands, to pull him free before he got caught in that vault where they
could hear the ceiling crashing in.
In
the chute, Joe could feel the pressure trying to suck him back down and he
scrabbled to gain a hand or foot hold that would secure his position. He was
exhausted, filthy and sore, the broken and cracked ribs throbbing unmercifully
as he reached towards the slightly lighter oblong of the open hatchway above
him.
Moments
later, he slipped and slid right back down to the bottom of the chute, jarring
his ribs as he landed in a crumpled heap. The air was thick was dust and rubble
crashed down all around. Joe took one single glance at the destruction and knew
that if he didn’t get out of there soon, he might not get out at all. He gasped
as a piece of debris struck him on the shoulder, but he wasn’t hurt; just
shocked.
Another
large piece of masonry landed behind him and Joe felt fragments of the rock
striking his back, driving shards through his torn and filthy shirt. Glancing
up, Joe could see that the ceiling, what was left of it, was about to come
tumbling down. Mesmerised, he saw a piece break free and hurtle towards him. At
the last possible second, Joe threw up his arm to protect his face and
deflected the shard enough that it just grazed his face as it bounced off his
arm and vanished.
Gathering
his scattering wits – for the air was thick and gave him little or no oxygen –
Joe started scrambling up the chute again, frantically reaching out for the
help he knew waited at the top. His pain was momentarily forgotten as he fought
for his own life.
Just
as Joe thought there was no chance of him getting out alive, he felt a hand
grasp his and pull. His ribs protested mightily, but as the last of the
courthouse interior crumbled into the basement, nobody heard his cry of pain.
The hands kept pulling and even as the dust cloud overtook him, setting him to
coughing wildly, Joe was hauled out into the cool night air.
“Joe!”
Ben was kneeling by Joe’s side, putting his hands on Joe’s shoulders to support
him while Joe coughed. “Are you all right, son?”
Nodding,
Joe dragged in great draughts of air. “Fine,” he whispered and coughed. “Are
you all right, Pa?”
“Fine,”
Ben assured him, although he was suddenly feeling very, very weary.
“Let’s
git out a here,” Hoss suggested, and helped Ben to his feet while Candy went to
help Joe.
Leaning
thankfully on Hoss’ strong arm, Ben started to walk towards the street and
discovered that his right ankle refused to hold his weight. If Hoss hadn’t been
there, he would have fallen. “Pa!” Hoss exclaimed. “Ya hurt?”
“Just
twisted my ankle, I reckon,” Ben replied. “It’s all right, Hoss. Let’s just get
home.” He looked up into his son’s face. “I don’t know about you, but I could
use a bath!”
They
laughed.
**********************************
They
didn’t reach home that night. The doctor corralled them before they could get
anywhere near horses and declared that he was going to check them all over and
they could spend the night in town before he would even consider them going
home. In truth, all the people who had been trapped in the basement were more than
happy to oblige. Callie, the clerk, was more than happy to see her mother
waiting anxiously for her and to go home with her. She had had a nasty shock
over the behaviour of her fiancé, Jonathon Price, who was going to spend the
night in jail for perjury. Bristol Toby, the accused man, looked like he would
be set free, but the judge had to decide on that, but knowing that the truth
had been learned, Toby was happy enough to go with the sheriff for the last
time. The injured deputy was already under the doctor’s care.
“I’m
all right,” Joe insisted. “I just want a bath and some sleep.” He knew he would
never hear the end of it if his father discovered he had been participating in
the rescue with broken ribs.
“You
have a bath while I look at your father,” the doctor agreed. “And I’ll be over
to see you later.”
The
warm bath water was the best thing Joe could ever remember. He scrubbed the
dirt off and luxuriated in being clean for the first time in hours. He felt his
ribs again as he climbed out of the bath, but the warm water had helped ease
his sore muscles and he fell straight into bed. Joe was just falling asleep
when Hoss came in, supporting Ben and with the doctor in tow.
While
the bath water was replenished for Ben, the doctor went into the bedroom with
Joe and bandaged his ribs. “I reckon one o’ those cracks is now a break, Joe,”
the doctor warned. “Ya gotta be careful and take things easy, ya hear?”
“I
hear,” Joe replied. He was grateful enough to accept a pill for the pain and
climbed back into bed, sighing as the soft mattress lapped around his body. For
a moment, his damp curls felt cold on the back of his head and neck, but Joe’s
exhaustion was too deep for that sensation to worry him for more than a minute.
His eyes closed and he was asleep.
********************************
“Joe?
Come on, little brother, wake up. Joe!” The persistent voice pierced the warm
cocoon of sleep that Joe was in and he reluctantly surfaced, blinking in the
bright morning sun that was streaming in his window.
“Wassa
matter?” he mumbled and yawned widely. His eyes started to dip closed again.
“Joe!”
Hoss shook his brother’s shoulder gently. “Time ta git up, Joe. Pa’s already
getting’ dressed.” He eyed Joe critically, seeing the tired smudges still below
his eyes and the now-scabbed graze and bruise on his cheek. “Ya need a hand?”
he asked, concerned.
“No,
I’m fine,” Joe replied and yawned. He started to raise one hand to rub his eyes
and froze, a gasp of pain escaping his lips as his body protested the movement.
“Joe?”
Hoss was frowning at him.
“It’s
all right,” Joe replied and completed the movement more slowly.
“Ya
ain’t all right,” Hoss replied. “What did the doc say last night?”
“No
more than he said earlier.” Moving carefully, Joe managed to sit up with only a
hiss of discomfort. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he looked around for his
clothes and discovered them mended, washed and ironed dry, lying on a chair by
his bed. “Who did that?” he asked, indicating the clean clothes. He had no
recollection of seeing his clothes after shucking them for his bath.
“Reckon
it were Candy,” Hoss replied. “He done that fer all o’ us.
Good thing, too I reckon.” He wrinkled his nose expressively. “I wouldn’ a
wanted ta put them back on, filthy like they was.”
“Nor
me,” agreed Joe. “Pass them over please?” He caught the bundle awkwardly and
carefully lifted his shirt to slide on. “How’s Pa?” he asked and added,
“Thanks,” as Hoss helped him ease his shirt around his back and slide the other
arm in.
“He’s
ain’t gonna be ridin’ home n’more’n ya are,” Hoss answered. “I sent Candy out
ta git the buckboard early this morning.”
“I’m
not riding in the buckboard,” Joe declared. “I’m riding Cochise.”
“Now,
Joe…” Hoss began, but Joe was not backing down.
“No,
Hoss!” Joe’s eyes flashed green fire. “Pa mustn’t know that I’m hurt!”
There
was instant answering fire from Hoss’ blue eyes and the brothers glared at each
other, each one determined not to back down over this. “No
way, little brother!” Hoss snapped. “Ya’ve got broken ribs, dammit, Joe!
That ain’t nuthin’ ta mess with!”
“And
Pa’s off his feet for a couple of weeks with a sprained ankle, Hoss. He doesn’t
need to be worrying about me. Besides, I’m fine. They don’t hurt that much.”
Joe stood to pull up his pants and caught his breath involuntarily as he did
so.
“Sure
they don’t!” Hoss drawled sarcastically. He leant against the door post and
crossed his arms. “Joe, see sense!”
“Please,
Hoss.” Joe crossed the room in two long strides and looked up pleadingly into his
older brother’s face. “Pa doesn’t need to be worrying about me right now. He
needs to rest and get over what happened yesterday.”
It
was difficult to resist Joe’s pleading eyes and Hoss knew that as well as
anyone. “He ain’t the only one as needs ta rest,” Hoss pointed out and Joe
flushed slightly.
“All
right, I’ll take it easy,” he promised. “But I’m riding home and you’re not
going to say a word to
“Only till we git home.” Hoss glowered at
Joe, knowing that once again his brother’s charm and puppy dog eyes had got the
better of his good nature. “But mind,” Hoss pointed right at Joe. “I’m the one
what gits landed with everythin’ if’n ya do yerself a mischief! So you be
careful or else.”
“I
will,” Joe promised.
************************************
“What
do you think you’re doing?” hissed a voice and Joe aborted the movement he was
about to make and turned carefully to look at Candy.
“I’m
about to mount my horse, what does it look like?” he retorted.
“You
ain’t ridin’ home!” Candy objected.
“Keep
your voice down!” Joe hissed. “Yes, I am. End of discussion.”
“No its not!” Candy grabbed Joe’s arm,
looking at his friend with deep concern. Candy had been there the previous day
when part of the wall of the courthouse had collapsed on top of Joe. Although
Joe had protested at once that he was all right, Candy had not been convinced,
and it was only their discovery that everyone in the basement was still alive
that had diverted the attention from Joe. However, Candy had made sure that Joe
had seen the doctor, even if his friend had been short tempered about it. “You
were hurt yesterday and don’t try to tell me different!”
“I’m
fine,” Joe responded. In fact, he was in a great deal of discomfort and was
dreading the journey home.
“You
had a wall fall on you yesterday, then had a fight and heaved a lot of rubble
about, plus helped carry that injured deputy. I can see you’re hurting!” Candy
placed his hands on his hips and met Joe’s eyes belligerently.
Stopping
himself sighing at the last possible moment, Joe drooped slightly for a moment
before straightening up again. “All right, I’m a bit sore,” he temporised.
Candy’s eyes opened wide at this and he looked as though he was about to make
some sarcastic remark. Joe forestalled him. “But Pa didn’t sleep well last
night, Hoss says and I don’t want him worrying about me. Please, Candy, don’t
say anything until we’re home. I promise I’ll tell Pa myself.”
Staring
at Joe, Candy saw the fatigue that Joe couldn’t hide and the pain that lurked
in the depths of those emerald eyes. Candy couldn’t remember the last time he
had seen Joe look so down and he remembered the anguish on Joe’s face when they
had found the body the previous day. Joe had thought for several horrible
moments that it was Ben and Candy had completely understood as Joe stood there,
frozen, and allowed the others to uncover it. The shamed sense of relief that
Joe had felt on learning that it wasn’t Ben had haunted him all afternoon,
Candy knew.
“All
right,” he agreed. He glanced around and saw that Hoss and Ben had not yet
arrived outside. “Need a hand getting on?”
A
crooked smile crossed Joe’s face and made him look more exhausted than ever. “I
can mange, thanks. “ He carefully lifted his foot into the stirrup and slowly
swung on board. Candy stayed by his side until he was settled and Joe gave him
an acknowledging smile. He had almost had to ask for help to mount.
******************************
The
previous night, Ben Cartwright had slept soundly for the first couple of hours,
then his sleep had been plagued by nightmares; nightmares where he and the
others trapped with him had been buried alive, trapped in the rubble, hearing
their rescuers outside, but slipping away before they could be saved and
nightmares that Joe had not managed to extricate himself from the basement, but
had been trapped there. It had been those dreams that had scared Ben the most.
He had been more than relieved when morning came.
Hopping
about on a sprained ankle was not fun. It had been some time since Ben had
suffered this kind of injury and although he talked about it being ‘just a
sprain’, when push came to shove, a sprain was a
darned painful thing!
“Why
does this hotel have to have some many confounded stairs?” he whispered
grumpily to Hoss as he leaned heavily on the banister and his middle son.
“I
dunno,” Hoss returned. “Whyn’t ya complain ta the manager?” They exchanged a
smile.
As
they emerged into the warm sun, Ben was rather surprised to find Joe already
mounted and waiting. He thought his youngest son still looked rather pale, but
the smile Joe gave his father soothed the older man’s worries. He climbed
awkwardly into the buckboard and they set off for home.
“Did
Joe sleep alright?” Ben asked Hoss as they set off. “He’s really quiet.”
“I
think so,” Hoss replied. “But he was plumb tuckered out last night, Pa an’ he
weren’t too keen ta waken this mornin’, that’s fer sure.”
“How
unusual,” Ben commented, dryly. They grinned at each other again.
The
journey back to the ranch was accomplished at a leisurely pace. Joe grew
progressively paler, but Ben’s attention was diverted by the discomfort he felt
from his ankle, which throbbed miserably in time to the rattling of the
buckboard. Candy rode by Joe, watching his friend closely, ready to make a grab
for him, should Joe look like he was about to topple off his horse. But they
arrived back at the ranch without Joe betraying himself and he was able to
slide carefully down from Cochise while Hoss assisted Ben out of the buckboard.
“I’ll
see to your horse,” Candy told him. “You go and sit down somewhere.” He eyed
Joe carefully, seeing the lines of pain around his eyes. “You look terrible!”
“Thank
you for that,” Joe retorted, but an amused smile quirked his mouth. “You’re no
oil painting yourself!”
“Never
said I was,” Candy grinned. “I ain’t the vain one around here!”
“No,
that would be Hoss,” Joe dead-panned and Candy burst out laughing.
Pleased
at his response, Joe went over to where Ben was catching his breath, holding
one foot up. “How you doing, Pa?” Joe asked,
concerned.
“I’m
all right,” Ben replied. He put his hand on Joe’s shoulder and Joe realised
that Ben was going to use him as a crutch. He knew there was no way he could do
that but he didn’t want to worry Ben by admitting how sore he was. It was
taking all his time to keep standing upright.
“Joe,
ya go an’ open the door fer us,” Hoss ordered. “An’ git a stool fer Pa ta put
his foot on.” He shot Joe a look that reminded his brother that his time of
deception was almost up.
“All
right,” Joe agreed and walked steadily over to the house as Hoss helped Ben.
They
got Ben settled, but he looked tired. The previous day had taken a lot out of him.
Hop Sing brought them coffee and Joe suddenly realised that he would have to
try and get out of his jacket without betraying his hurts. Ben did not need to
learn of Joe’s injury right that moment – he was too tired.
Luckily
for Joe, Hoss also thought that Ben needed to rest for a bit before he heard of
Joe’s mis-adventures and he managed to make a joke of helping Joe out of his
jacket. Joe gave him a grateful look and sat carefully on the sofa.
“Are
you still stiff from yesterday, son?” Ben asked.
The
moment had come for Joe to admit the truth, but he still hesitated. And before
he could say anything, Hop Sing brought in lunch and they adjourned to the
table. Ben appeared to have forgotten the question as he limped over to the
table and they all ate hungrily. Joe remained essentially silent.
As
they finished eating, Candy said, “Well, I’m gonna get back to work. There are
things to do.”
“Yeah,
me, too,” Hoss agreed.
“None
of you need to stay with me,” Ben told them. “Hop Sing will give me a hand if I
need it.”
Hoss
and Candy exchanged a look and Ben didn’t miss that one. “What?” he asked.
“Don’t you think I’m able to stay on my own? I won’t get up to mischief,” he
teased.
“It
ain’t that, Pa,” Hoss denied. He fidgeted, looking at Joe.
Following
his son’s gaze, Ben caught a look of discomfort on Joe’s face. His parental
radar went off at once. He wasn’t sure why nobody had said anything to him, but
he acted at once. “Joe can keep me company then,” he sighed. “I can see he’s as
stiff as an old horse today.” He patted Joe’s hand where it rested on the
table. The muscles in his arm were as tense as could be. “You’re out of
condition, son,” he teased.
“Must
be,” Joe smiled back, but the smile was strained.
“C’mon,
Pa, I’ll help ya back ta yer seat,” Hoss offered and as he helped Ben, he gave
Joe a meaningful stare.
************************
Lack
of sleep caught up with Ben shortly after lunch and he fell asleep. Joe tried
to read a book, but he was very sore and couldn’t find a comfortable position
at all. Hop Sing came into the room and looked at Joe. “Boy sore,” he declared
softly. “Need rest.”
“I’m
resting,” Joe agreed. “I’m fine, Hop Sing.”
“Fine
– always fine! Huh!” he sniffed and bustled back to the kitchen. Joe smiled.
About
an hour later, Ben woke. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he mumbled, washing
his hands over his face.
“You
probably needed it, or you wouldn’t have,” Joe pointed out, turning one of his
father’s favourite sayings against him.
“That’s
an impressive piece of wisdom, son,” Ben remarked, unperturbed. He moved his
sore ankle off the stool to the floor. “Joe, could you give me a hand up?”
“Sure.”
Joe rose carefully and went over, extending his right hand to his father.
The
instant he took Ben’s weight, Joe knew that it was a mistake. A stab of pain
shot through his ribs and took his breath away. Ben, with his head down, didn’t
see the pain flash over Joe’s face. But he heard the gasp and quickly raised
his head.
The
little amount of colour that Joe had regained while resting had fled from his
face. His eyes, particularly green at that moment, were wide with anguish. Ben
forgot his own troubles and let go of the arm of the chair and grabbed Joe’s
arm. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in a stable position and he fell back into the chair,
all but pulling Joe down on top of him.
A
cry of pain broke from Joe’s lips as he crumpled onto his father’s lap and from
there to the floor. Ben scrambled to catch Joe before he could hurt himself
further by falling, but he wasn’t in time. Joe thudded to the floor, unable to
catch himself, and barely missed striking his head off
the stonework of the fireplace.
“Joe!”
Ben slid to the edge of the seat, leaning over his stricken son. “What’s
wrong?”
Lying
on the floor, Joe couldn’t seem to find the words to answer. His breath was
coming in short, painful hitches and his ribcage
seemed to be on fire. His left hand instinctively cradled his ribs, but even
his own, feather-light touch caused him to groan in pain.
Panicked
now, Ben turned his head and bellowed, “Hop Sing!” He immediately turned back
to Joe. “Easy, Joe,” he soothed. “Take it easy. Just breathe.”
Those
words made Joe want to laugh. He wanted to tell Ben he couldn’t breathe, but he
couldn’t spare the breath to tell him that. The pain was all encompassing and
he wondered, dispassionately, if he had punctured a lung. His eyes sought his
father’s face, the terror he was feeling communicating itself easily to Ben.
“What
for you shout now?” Hop Sing demanded. But any irritation he had felt melted
away the moment he saw Joe on the floor. “I fetch Mistah Hoss!” he declared and
scurried out of the door at high speed.
It
wasn’t often that Ben regretted that they didn’t live closer to town, but this
was one of those occasions. As soon as Joe clutched his ribs, Ben knew what was
wrong and like Joe, he worried that a lung had been punctured. That could be a
death sentence, he knew. If only there was something practical he could do!
Since there wasn’t, Ben did his level best to keep both his and Joe’s panic
under a semblance of control.
It
didn’t take long for Hop Sing to find Hoss, fortunately. The big man hurried
into the house and ran over to Ben’s side. “I’ve sent a man fer the doc,” he
told Ben. “Candy’s on the way. When he gits here, we’ll git Joe up.” He shoved
the big wooden coffee table aside so he had easier access to his younger
brother. “Take it easy, Joe, we’ll help ya.” The suffering in Joe’s eyes caused
Hoss great pain, but the trust warmed his heart.
“What’s
wrong with Joe’s ribs?” Ben asked, his voice harsh
with worry.
“Yesterday,
when he was workin’ in the courthouse, part o’ the wall fell on him,” Hoss
admitted. “Joe told everyone that he was all right, but later, he saw the doc,
an’ the doc said he had broken an’ cracked ribs.”
“Why
didn’t you say anything, Joe?” Ben asked, the anguish
audible in his voice.
Seeing
that Joe still wasn’t capable of speech, Hoss answered for him. “We didn’ want
ta worry ya, Pa,” he admitted, his voice low.
“While
I appreciate your concern,” Ben replied harshly, “next time, just worry me,
please.” He bent over Joe again, stroking his son’s hair. Although his anger
was real, his concern was greater.
A
few minutes later, Candy arrived and together, he and Hoss gently picked Joe
off the floor. By then, Joe’s breathing had eased slightly, although he was
still in a great deal of pain. “Straight up ta bed,” Hoss panted and Candy just
nodded. Joe wanted to protest, but every movement was pure agony and so he said
nothing.
Somewhere
along the way, Joe must have passed out, for when he opened his eyes, he was lying on his bed, with Ben hovering over him, his dark eyes
full of concern. “How do you feel, son?” he asked, as he saw Joe’s eyes open.
“Sore,”
Joe admitted. He raised his hand carefully to catch Ben’s sleeve. “Sorry,
“I
know,” Ben replied. He squeezed Joe’s hand. “I understand why you didn’t say anything,
Joe, but you should’ve told me. For your sake, not mine.”
“When
you were trapped in that basement, Pa, I thought you… you weren’t going to get
out alive,” Joe admitted. Ben winced. “When we found that body, I couldn’t… couldn’t even look.” Joe blinked furiously. “Candy
had to see who it was. And when I realised that it wasn’t you, I was so
relieved.” Joe’s hand tightened. “Not that the other person
was dead,
“I
understand, son,” Ben soothed. He did understand, for he had been in a very
similar situation himself once. His sorrow for the other man’s son had warred
with the relief that it wasn’t his son who had died.
“When
that wall came down on me,” Joe went on, “I was sure I was going to die. I
wasn’t sure I minded, Pa, if you were dead. And then, Candy and the others
pulled me out and we heard you banging on the flue and I was so glad I was
still alive, I didn’t feel the pain.”
“Candy
says that you have one broken rib and two others cracked.” Ben’s voice was
husky with emotion.
Sighing
carefully, Joe admitted, “Last night, the doc told me he was sure one of the
cracks had broken.” He looked through his eyelashes at his father.
“Oh, Joe!” Ben’s exasperation was a
mixture of anger and affection. With Joe’s face so pale, affection won out.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Forgive
me?” Joe pleaded and Ben drew his son carefully into his arms.
“Always,
Joe,” he breathed. “Always.”
**********************************
The
arrival of the doctor confirmed that Joe’s lungs were all right. Joe’s ribs
were re-bandaged and he was told to rest. Ben was given the same instructions.
Looking
down at Joe, Hoss made a face. “I knew it!” he mourned.
“Knew
what?” Ben asked, since Joe was drifting on the soft fringes of sleep, thanks
to the painkiller he had been given.
“I
knew that I’d be left doin’ Joe’s chores,” he replied, still despondently.
“Allus happens when Joe gits hurt.”
Blinking
sleepily, Joe smiled at Hoss. “Get Candy to do them,” he whispered.
For
a moment, Hoss froze, his blue eyes wide while he
mulled that notion over. Then a smile began to creep over his face. “I’ll
forgive ya, little brother – this time.” Hoss reached down and ruffled Joe’s
hair affectionately. “See ya in the mornin’.” He hurried towards the door and a
smile crept over Joe’s face as he heard Hoss yell, “Candy!”
“Do
you think that was nice?” Ben asked Joe, trying hard to sound disapproving.
“Hoss
is pleased,” Joe replied, deliberately misunderstanding Ben. He chuckled
quietly – laughing hurt.
That
soft sound destroyed Ben’s fragile control. “I meant to Candy,” he chided.
Sleep-shadowed
eyes met Ben’s own. “Hoss is bigger,” he pointed out.
The
End