Adam
Cartwright leaned up against a tree, took off his hat and began fanning
himself. It was too hot for a picnic, even if it was the 4th of
July.
“It’s
so dang blasted hot out here,” his younger brother commented, scrubbing a hand over
his sweaty face. He pulled a kerchief out of his pocket and began wiping his
neck then halted, a scowl forming on his usually placid features. “Look at
him.” he said with disgust as he waved the kerchief angrily. “I just don’t
understand it. How can he look so cool?”
Joe
Cartwright was standing several yards away, a crowd of young ladies gathered
around him. He was talking and laughing and charming them all, which wasn’t
particularly unusual. What was unusual, however, was that he appeared to be the
only person at the forth of July picnic who was unaffected by the sweltering
heat.
“Now,
ladies … .” His older brothers heard
him say. “No fighting. There’s plenty of me to go around.”
“Yeah,
I reckon there is – ‘specially if we tear him into lotsa itty bitty pieces,”
good-natured Hoss said with a growl.
Adam
was too hot to put forth the effort of responding; he simply rolled his eyes
and continued fanning himself. The boy would probably get himself torn into
itty bitty pieces by some gal’s father before he reached the age of sixteen,
anyway.
“I
could sure use some lemonade,” Joe announced cheerfully, winking at a few of
the girls on his left. Hoss considered obliging the kid by dumping a glass or
two over his curly head.
“I’ll
get you a glass!” one of the young ladies called out enthusiastically.
“No!
It’s my turn!” another one demanded, and pushed the first one to the side.
“NO!
You went last time! It’s my turn to get him a glass!” another girl shouted,
grabbing the second girl by the hair and pushing past her. She paused, hands on
her hips to glare at the young lady. “You got him a glass last time!”
Adam
put his hat on, pulled it down low and turned away, slightly embarrassed, but
mostly fearing that somebody might detect a trace of pride or admiration in his
enigmatic smile.
Which
really ticked off Hoss, for he felt no such pride in his wayward baby brother.
In fact, he was downright disgusted to see Joseph taking advantage of the young
ladies. He wondered where his pa was, ‘cause he reckoned the boy was in need of
a good thrashin’.
“Now,
now…Miss Wendy, there’s no need to fight!” Joe called out to the now rumpled
young lady whose fists were clenched at her sides. “Miss Laura is right, you
got the last glass…” Joe smiled his most dashing smile. “And a mighty tasty
glass it was.”
The
older Cartwrights watched in amazement as Miss Wendy’s anger simply evaporated
and was instantly replaced with a glazed look of longing. In fact, the entire
group ladies sighed dreamily, each one swooning a little closer to the youngest
Cartwright brother.
Adam
chuckled and Hoss tried not to puke up all the fried chicken he’d eaten at the
picnic. He was getting more sickened by
the minute, and that was making him mad, not to mention it was making him even
hotter. “Dadburnit!” he cussed,
scowling at the half pint scoundrel. “That’s it. I ain’t gonna watch this no
more.”
“Aw,
come on Hoss,” Adam tried to placate. “You know he can’t help it.”
“Well,
I sure can! What that boy needs is a sound thrashin’!” With that, the middle
brother pushed his way right through the cluster of fawning females. “Joseph! I
can’t stand to watch this any longer!” he said angrily then hoisted the
unsuspecting boy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and stalked away.
Adam
stood under the tree for a few moments longer, unable to decide whether it was
worth the effort to follow the two younger boys. It wasn’t that he was worried
about Joe; it was more that he was curious to see what Hoss planned to do with
him.
He
suddenly felt an odd sensation, like he was being watched. A glance in the
direction of the group of young ladies confirmed his suspicion -- yes, he was indeed being ogled. As one,
the group took a step in his direction. He tipped his hat, smiled and said,
“Ladies,” then hurried after his brothers. He could say one thing for the
group, whom only a moment ago had been devoted to attending the every need of
his baby brother: they were apparently a fickle bunch.
“Hey
Adam!” Joe called out as Adam approached the pond. Then he dove beneath the
surface and came up beside Hoss who was floating on his back. They were both
fully clothed.
“I
thought you were gonna thrash him?” Adam asked with amusement.
“Nah,
he just needed a little coolin’ off,” Hoss replied, grinning like a fool. “Why
don’t ya come on in!”
“Yeah,
Adam!” Joe shouted, as he tried to splash water at his oldest brother. “Come
on! The water’s real nice!”
Adam
didn’t need any more encouragement. He hastily pulled off his boots, tossed
them alongside his brothers’ boots then dove into the cool pond.
The
water was nice and cool and refreshing. The three brothers swam and splashed
and fooled around in the pond for hours, until their skin was shriveled like a
prune. Adam knew he should probably suggest they get out and dry off, so they
could find their pa before dark, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.
Instead, he signaled Hoss who grinned and the two of them dunked their little
brother for the hundredth or so time.
They
were still splashing around when the sun finally set, and the first Roman
Candle lit across the sky.