This is a Bonanza Christmas story with some comedy added.
“Hey, Joe,
if you would pick up on your end maybe I could get this thing into the house.”
“I am
holding my end. Hoss, why don’t you just get goin’ so that I can move my end.”
“Why don’t
both of you get moving so that I can go in the house.”
“Hey, Adam,
can’t you see we’re busy,” said Joe, who was holding just the top tip of a
Ponderosa pine tree that he and Hoss were attempting to take into the house.
You can go around through the kitchen door.”
“I already
tried that, and Hop Sing came at me with a meat cleave. Seems like someone
already tracked up the kitchen with, as he called it ‘horse dodo’. Now may I
please enter the house? It’s cold out here.”
“Yes, it is
cold out here. And I said you could have a small Christmas tree. This thing is
way too big.” Ben Cartwright had come up behind his oldest son, Adam. (He
didn’t want to admit to them that he had gone behind the backs of all those
producers, directors, writers, and etcetera and was letting his sons and
friends have Christmas this year. Some years the directors, writers and such
allowed the Cartwrights to have Christmas and some years they didn’t.)
Hoss gave a
big pull on the trunk of the tree that he was holding in the door way to the
ranch house while Joe gave a tiny little shove on the top of the tree from
where he stood ten feet out from the door and the pine tree folded its branches
just enough to scrape its way into the house. Hoss and Joe lifted it over the
table and couch and stood it beside the fireplace on the side nearest to the
dining room.
“How ‘bout
right here,” said Hoss.
“That looks
good,” said Joe standing back to admire the tree while Hoss held it up.
“No, no, no,”
said Adam. “It will catch fire there. The tree always goes over here by the
staircase. There’s more room here.” He picked up the small table that was sitting
where he indicated to make way for Hoss and Joe to move the tree over by the
staircase.
“And stand
it in a bucket of water so it don’t dry out so fast,” added Ben.
“Well, how
are we gonna make it stand here?” asked Hoss.
“You know
you have to wrap a rope around it and tie it to the staircase,” fussed Adam.
“That’s the way we always do it.”
Hop Sing,
the Cartwrights cook, housekeeper and friend had been watching as the Christmas
tree was brought in and stood up. He started sweeping the floor. “You make big
mess. Now house all dirty again. Now got to sweep floor again. All covered with
pine needles. I never understand this having to bring tree into house every
year.”
A wooden
box of fragile, hand-blown, glass Christmas decorations had been brought in
earlier and now Joe, Hoss, and Adam took them carefully out of the straw that
kept the decorations safe in the box and hung them on the tree.
Hoss took a
short paper chain out of the box.
Joe snorted
in disgust. “That old thing. We need a new one.”
“This one
is just fine,” said Hoss as he gently added it to the tree.
“You made
that when you were five years old,” scoffed Joe.
“What about
this?” asked Adam as he held up a small, white, china plate with a child’s
handprint in the center and Merry Christmas misspelled around it.
“That’s
mine,” yelped Joe grabbing it away from Adam and hanging it on the tree by a
red ribbon attached to the back.
Ben sat in
his chair smiling at the child-like antics of his three grown sons. He hoped it
would be a good Christmas without any of the problems there had been on other
Christmas’s. He thought that the only thing missing was a woman or two to add
to the enthusiasm of the room. He sighed at the thought that not one of his
three boys had found a wife yet and he wondered if they ever would. (Or would
be allowed to by the writers.)
After
supper Hop Sing brought another small box into the room and took out a few
brightly colored paper birds, and paper lanterns to add to the tree. Ben had
found the old, wooden, hand-carved nativity and nutcracker that had belonged to
Adam’s mother and set them under the tree. Hoss hung five large, new, knit
stockings from the staircase railing once he had been convinced it was to
dangerous to hang them from a fireplace that was usually in use at this time of
the year. Adam tied several large, red ribbon bows on the ends of several
branches. Joe stood on the landing of the staircase and leaned way out over the
top of the tree to add a silver star, and a gold angel to the top of the tree.
Everyone agreed it was the best looking Christmas tree they had ever had.
A few days
before Christmas there had been more decorations added to the tree and many
gifts were under the tree. Evergreen wreaths with big red bows hung on the
door, the staircase and on Ben’s desk. Mistletoe hung near the doorways just in
case an attractive woman should wonder in so that the men in the house would
have an excuse to kiss her. And there were plenty of attractive women at the
Christmas party that the Cartwrights had. Ben had hopes that maybe, just maybe,
with all the holiday spirit that one of his sons would ask one of the
attractive women at the party to become part of the Cartwright family.
Hop Sing oversaw
the roasting of half a beef in a pit that the cowhands had dug in the yard,
while all of the guests had arrived with plates, and bowls full of potato
salad, jars of pickles, green beans casseroles, pinto beans with jalapeño
pepper seasoning, and homemade breads. There were a dozen or so of different
kinds of cookies, cakes, and pies. A Mexican family brought enchiladas, tacos,
burritos, and sapodillas. An American Indian family brought venison, wild
rabbit stew, roast turkey and the greasy, Indian fry bread that is so popular
with the newcomers to America
There was
fun and games for all. Sack races, horse races, (of course Little Joe won)
poker games, and hide and seek were popular. Joe and Adam especially like the
hide and seek games they played with several of the young women that came to
the party in their very colorful, party dresses. Of course the men all were
wearing their dreary, boring suits topped off by big western hats. And each and
every man had on a pair of the heavy, pointed, cowboy boots that the women
dreaded having their feet stomped with when the dancing began. Those cowboys
had to get drunk and really show the women a good time when it came to square
dancing, but only Adam seemed to be able to waltz decently so all the women
wanted to argue over who’s turn it was to dance with Adam when a waltz was
played.
The party
went on for hours and hours and finally broke up at the very late hour of about
eight o-clock in the evening. The cowhands retired to the bunk house, to snore
the night away as they had to get up early the next morning to do all those
cowboy jobs like punching cows and building fences. The Cartwrights went to
their house to gather around the big fireplace and discuss the party.
“Well, did
any of you boys ask any of those cute young ladies to be your wife?”
“Wife!”
echoed all three of the boys. (They wondered if Pa had forgot about the
unwritten rules of all those producers, writers, directors, and such.)
“Why would
I ask any of them to get married?” asked Adam, from where he sat on the couch.
“When I get married I want someone that is smart. That has been to school.
Someone that can do something besides be a ranchers wife, cooking and cleaning,
splitting wood, chasing cows, breaking broncs and having kids.”
“Oh,”
commented Ben.
Adam
continued, “I want a wife that is sophisticated, plays the piano, reads poetry,
and enjoys going to the opera and ballet.”
“Now, I
can’t say much for them kind a things, Adam.” Hoss stood in front of the
fireplace, “Me, I’d rather have that there strong, rancher’s wife. She seems
more to my way of thinkin’ to make a good wife.” He picked up the fireplace
poker and stirred the ashes in the fire then added a couple of pieces of
firewood from the woodbox.
“Oh,” said
Ben again.
Joe giggled
from his seat on the big, coffee table in front of the fireplace. “Now I don’t
want either of them kinds of women for a wife. I want one that’s cute, with a
sassy type of personality. One that wants to have fun and maybe we’ll raise us
a few cute, little spotted ponies as well as one or two little kids.” He too,
stared into the fire as if he could see just the right girl to be his wife.
“Oh,” said
Ben for the third time. Under his breath so that his sons couldn’t hear he
muttered something that sounded like, “But the powers that be won’t let any of
you have a wife. Or if they do she will get sick and die.” (Was he talking
about all those writers, directors, producers and such?)
After a
moment he stood and stretched. “I think we are all getting too melancholy for our
own good. First thing you know we’ll be cryin’ in our milk. So why don’t we
have a drink of whiskey and a couple of those left over cookies before we go to
bed. Christmas should be a happy time.”
The next
day the Cartwrights got up early so they could join there cowhands in some
good, old-fashioned cowboy work. Ben wondered into the barn with a coffee cup
still in his hand. He wasn’t sure if he was really up to climbing onto a horse
and riding. Why, oh, why did the powers that be want him to keep riding horses?
And which one of those obnoxious buckskins would it be today. Why was in
necessary for him to always ride a jugheaded buckskin? Why couldn’t he have a
nice, gentle, well-trained sorrel like the one Adam had? Why couldn’t Adam get
the buckskin with that rough, jarring trot that tried to shake his teeth out?
He leaned against a post, sipped on his coffee, and waited for the wrangler to
figure out he was there and get his horse saddled for him.
Adam had
followed his father into the barn and was trying to get warmer by turning the collar
of his jacket up and pulling on a pair of leather gloves. He noticed Ben had a
cup of coffee. He should have thought of getting one before he came out. But if
he drank another cup of the brew he would just have to get on and off of his
horse more times so he could pee. Drinking coffee and then riding a horse at
any gait wasn’t the smartest thing to do. And which of those idiot sorrel nags
did he get today. The powers that be always put him on a sorrel, usually with
white stockings. They didn’t seem to realize that the audience really could
tell the difference between all those different horses that he and his family
had to ride. He might have to ride only sorrels but the watchers could tell
that difference in them even if it was something as minor as the white stocking
was on a right foreleg instead of a left hind leg. (Not that the directors,
writers, or producers could tell the difference. They really weren’t as smart
as they thought they were.)
Hoss bumped into Adam when he
walked into the barn because he was sleep walking again and eating a rolled up
flapjack filled full of honey that was dripping out and down his shirt.
“Sssssarry Aaadommm,” he said with his mouth full. He sat down on a hay bale to
finish consuming the flapjack and to let a hound-dog that had followed him to
lick off the honey on his shirt. Hoss let the hound finish then looked up to
see that Little Joe was watching him and the hound.
“That’s gross,” said Joe making a
face at his brother.
Ben sighed, “Can’t we have just one
day without the three of you boys doing something to make each other mad so
that a fight gets started?
“I’m not starting any fight today,”
said Adam. “I’m still too tired after being up so late after having to dance
with all those ladies at your party last night. I didn’t get to bed until
ten-o-clock.”
Two wranglers came into the
barnyard leading four horses. A buckskin, a sorrel, a black, and a black and
white pinto. Ben, Joe, Adam, and Hoss stepped out of the barn looking at the
four horses with disgust.
“Not again,” whined Joe. “I don’t
like that one. He always moves the wrong way when I go to jump on him without
using the stirrup. When he does that I fall on the ground. Why can’t I have a
good horse for a change? And why do they all have to be named Cochise?” (How
dumb are those producers, directors and writers anyway. Just once, just once
I’d like to have a big, black horse. Maybe one of those Friesian that I been
hearing about. They sure are pretty.)
Each wrangler handed the proper set
of reins to the proper Cartwright making sure they got the correct color of
horse. One wrangler spoke to the four men, “These nags are all ready for you
guys. They’ll make you look good as long as you don’t fall of like last time.”
(It was Joe that had fallen off when he had given the wrong command to his
horse.)
Hoss took the reins of Chub and dug
into his pocket for a sugar cube. The horse ate it smacking its lips just like
Hoss did after he ate a sugar cube.
With a creaking of his joints Ben
climbed into Buck’s saddle. Joe jumped onto Cochise without falling on the
ground. Adam got Beauty to stop circling him long enough to mount. Hoss
succeeded in distracting Chub with another sugar cube so he could get on. All
four rode out of the yard and off across the pasture to find where the cow herd
was for the day.
There were a lot of action shots that day, but after a day full of
riding here and there so they could chase cows, rope a calf or two and shoot a
couple of outlaws the dumb man with the clacking boards yelled a final cut and
the Cartwrights were allowed to get off their horses and hobble back to the
ranch house. As they did so the storm that had been brewing all day decided to
cut loose with a tremendous clap of thunder and dump several bucketfuls of cold
rain water on the four men. (The directors never paid attention when their
assistants told them the weather would get to bad for filming.) Soaked to the
skin they ran into the house where they stood around the fireplace dripping
water on the floor while Hop Sing complained to them in Chinese about the mess
they were making.
“It’s not supposed to be raining,”
fumed Hoss as he took off his boots so he could dry his socks. Another noisy
round of thunder shook the house. “It’s Christmas Eve and it’s supposed to
snow. How can Santa Claus get here if it’s pouring down rain?”
“Hoss,” shouted Adam at his
younger, but bigger brother, “how many times have I told you that Santa Claus
doesn’t exist.” He was trying to be heard over the sound of the storm as well
as being disgusted at such immature ideas as his brothers seemed to have.
“Yes, he does, yes, he does, yes,
he does,” chanted Little Joe. “I saw him once. I swear I saw Santa Claus when I
was three years old, but no one will ever believe me.” The rumble of thunder
snarled all around them.
“Stop it,” bellowed Ben at his
sons. “I have a headache, and you’re acting like children. Grow up.”
“Supper is ready,” screeched Hop
Sing. “Come eat or I throw it out.”
“Oh, goody, stew,” commented Hoss,
as he ran to the table, sat down and took a big helping.
While the storm raged they ate a
meal of hot stew and had a round of brandy. By then Cartwrights were more than
ready for a good nights sleep. Tomorrow they would be up early to open their
Christmas presents. (Not only was it Christmas it was their day off.) That is
if Santa Claus found his way to their home and thought they had been good
enough all year so they could have a present.
As they
started to climb the stairs to their bedrooms Hop Sing came running in from the
kitchen. “It snowing now. Great big snowflakes come down and make big piles of
snow. Santa Claus can come now.” He giggled to himself at the thought of a magical
person that brought presents to those that were good.
With yelps
of joy Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe went off to bed, although they swore they
wouldn’t be able to go to sleep because they were going to try to see Santa
when he did come. Ben told them to shut up and go to bed so he could get some
sleep.
Lying in
their individual beds in their individual bedrooms all the Cartwrights listened
with their ears wide open hoping to hear the clatter of tiny reindeer hooves on
the roof. But instead they began to hear the whistling and whining of wind as
it came in through all the tiny little cracks that were all over their logcabin
home. In minutes the wind got worse turning Christmas Night into a blizzard
that was piling snowdrifts higher and higher around the ranch house.
Adam got up and looked out his window after
wiping a layer of frost off the glass. He couldn’t see much except the
snowflakes flying here and there before the terrible wind. Ben looked out his
window and wondered if the roof to the house would stay on in as bad a storm as
it looked like they would have. Joe tiptoed into Hoss’ room but Hoss hadn’t
woke up. The roar of the wind was so loud it was even hard to hear his brother
snore. He shivered in his nightshirt and went back to his room to crawl under
the covers where he could hide his head and hope that Santa would make it
regardless of the storm.
After
laying in their beds for several hours Ben and Adam were finally lulled to
sleep by the screaming and screeching of the wind and pinging of frozen
snowflakes on the windows. Hoss snored on while Joe trembled and quaked under
his blankets until he reminded himself he wasn’t a little boy anymore and
drifted off to sleep. For a brief second he was sure he heard the sound of sleigh
bells and tiny hooves stomping on the roof and someone calling ‘Ho-ho-ho, and a
Merry Christmas to All’. He tried to keep awake so that he could get up and go
see if Santa Claus actually was leaving presents but he couldn’t keep his eyes
open or his thoughts clear and off to slumber-land he went.
Hop Sing snoozed on all night as he
wasn’t bothered by the storm or the thought of a strange fat man in a red suit
accompanied by reindeer coming to visit.
It was early, very early, about
eight o-clock, when the residents of the Ponderosa woke up to a
Christmas-card-like landscape that would make photographers and directors
shudder and quiver with delight at the sight. There were huge drifts of snow
against the north sides of all the buildings. The new snow sparkled as if
covered with millions of infinitesimal diamonds. Long ice cycles hung from the
eves glittering in the early morning light. Bluejays squawked, sparrows
chirped, and a big red rooster crowed a welcome to the new day. Squirrels
chattered and flitted through the snow covered Ponderosa pine trees that
surrounded the ranch house. In the pasture the cows came out of the protection
of the stands of trees, shook off their snow coats and began to dig through the
snow looking for grass to eat. Several deer and elk appeared on the edges of
the pasture also looking for food. A group of horses decided it was time to run
and play so they went bucking and squealing as they raced across the field and
back again. They scattered the snow as if it was water making it sparkle even
more.
In a few moments the cowhands
slowly came out of the bunkhouse to see the new day and watch the animals at
play. A young collie dog chased one of the barn cats around the corner of the
woodpile. As the cook worked in the cookshack and Hop Sing in the kitchen smoke
drifted out of the chimneys and up into the blue sky that had only a few white
fluffy clouds that was all that was left of the terrible storm from the night
before. Moments later the smell of coffee, bacon, and fresh bread floated out
to tantalize the cowboys. Before they went in for breakfast a snowball fight
broke out. The cowboys grabbed up handfuls of the white stuff and made big
balls to throw at each other. They would take time to have a little fun, even if
on Christmas day the stock still had to be fed and watered.
At the sound of boots thudding down
the stairs Hop Sing set plates full of hotcakes, and scrambled eggs on the
table. By the time Ben pulled his chair out at the head of the table Hop Sing
was pouring a steaming cup of coffee for his boss.
The three Cartwright brothers
trooped down the stairs, Adam following his father to the table while Hoss and
Joe took time to peak at the Christmas tree. There were the same presents that had
been there yesterday but now there was the addition of a new pair of boots in
Joe’s size, a super sized coat that would fit only Hoss, a fancy dress shirt
that looked like something Adam would wear, a couple of copper bottom cook pots
for Hop Sing, and a new Stetson hat that Ben might like.
Large smiles lit the faces of all
the men as they looked but didn’t touch the gifts. It was as if they were
afraid if they did the gifts would disappear.
There was the sound of banging on
the front door. When Joe opened it he was hit in the face by another of the
snowballs that had been aimed at the door. Quickly he grabbed a jacket and ran
out to join in the fun with Hoss right behind him. Even Adam was lured into the
foray.
Ben and Hop Sing watched the antics
and then Ben had a thought. He whispered to Hop Sing, “Where are those dang
producers, writers, and cameramen when something really nice happens around
here.”
The End
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