by
Katlynn
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended by the
author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
Before I say anything else about this story, I must confess that I've shamelessly stolen and used the punch line from a joke you might have heard that wanders the world-wide web and may have shown up in your email in-box on more than one occasion. I've received this particular joke three or four times, the most recent while I was writing "The Wish". As the joke is about two young boys, I couldn't help reading it this time with my version of a younger Nick and Heath in mind. It seemed tailor-made for the way I envisioned them a bold, brash, and confident eleven-year-old and a seven-year-old who was a combination of a wise little man and a naοve little boy. It just cried out to be expanded and written from their point of view. Although this isn't intended as a continuation of "The Wish", reference to the "rules" will make more sense if you've read that first. I think of this story as taking place about a month after "The Wish" ended. Think of it as written with tongue firmly in cheek.
Heath Barkley jumped as the door to his bedroom opened with a bang and his
eleven-year-old brother, Nick, walked in.
"Hi, can I come in?" he was almost at his brother's side when he
remembered to ask.
"Rule number 7," Heath mumbled, as if to himself. "Big brothers don't have to ask first
they can just walk right in."
Nick heard and ignored the comment as he asked, "Are ya' goin' out to
watch the sunrise? Thought I might go with ya' this mornin'."
"But rule number 19
"
"Says little brothers don't wake up their big brothers to ASK if they
wanna go see the sunrise. But ya'
didn't ASK," Nick explained. "I
DECIDED."
"Rule number 36," the little blond nodded. "Big brothers can decide to do somethin' even if they said
'no' when ya' first asked 'em to."
"That's right
and today I decided.
Got somethin' important to talk to ya' about and now's as good a time as
any."
"Rule number 41," the seven-year-old quoted, matter-of-factly. "Everythin' a big brother wants to talk
to ya' about is important."
"Ya' sound like ya' been memorizing these," Nick observed as they
left the younger boy's bedroom and headed down the stairway to the kitchen.
"That was rule number 3," Heath reminded him. "Write these rules down and 'member
'em."
"Yer rememberin' 'em good, midget," the dark-haired brother said,
patting the blond on the back.
"Mama always said I was good at 'memberin' things."
"Yer Mama was right about that," Nick agreed as both boys accepted
glasses of orange juice from Silas.
It was a morning ritual. The first time
Silas had given Heath a glass of orange juice, the little boy's exclamation of,
'boy howdy, I ain't never tasted nothin' so good!' had left the Barkley servant
with a smile so wide he was afraid his face was in danger of cracking. Now he always had a glass of orange juice
waiting for the youngster before he went outside to watch the sunrise and this
morning he'd scrambled to get a second glass poured when he heard two voices
coming down the stairs.
He watched the boys through the window after they went outside and it warmed
his heart to see the way Nick put his arm around his little brother's shoulders
as they walked. His thoughts might not
have been so charitable if he could have heard their conversation as they sat
down on two tree stumps to watch the approaching dawn.
"I've decided it's about time," the eleven-year was telling his brother,
"for me and you to try out swearin' in fronta Mother and Father."
"That's one of Mr. Flynn's favorite things to do," Heath said, fondly
recalling the time the livery owner had told him, 'boy
I swear I don't know a
body who works harder than you do'. "But
I ain't never done no swearin'. Don't
know how."
"Don't 'spect that ya' do," Nick told him. "But it ain't hard at all.
I can teach ya'. Rule number 61
says big brothers GOTTA teach little brothers about swearin'."
"Rule number 61 is the one about little brothers havin' to give up the
last piece of chocolate cake if their big brother wants it," the younger
boy corrected the older. "That's
the one ya' told me 'bout last night when we sneaked down to the kitchen when
we was s'pose to be in bed."
"Ya' sure?"
"I can get my book if ya' want."
"Ya' really ARE writin' 'em down?"
"Rule number 3," Heath reminded him again, nodding. "Had to ask Jarrod for a book to write
'em in."
"Did ya' tell him what ya' was gonna write in it?"
The little blond vigorously shook his head.
"Rule number 6
these rules ain't no one's business but
ours."
"Well
okay
guess I'll trust yer numbers then. We must be on rule number 62. THAT'S the one that says big brothers gotta
teach little brothers about swearin'."
"Okay," the boy agreed with a shrug.
"If that's the rule."
"Like I said, it ain't hard at all.
While we're havin' breakfast, I'll just say 'damn' and then you can say
'hell'."
"Mama said I ain't s'pose to talk about
about
that place. She said it's a real bad place and decent
folk don't talk about it."
"This is different. Ya' wouldn't
be talkin' about the place. Ya'd just
be sayin' the word," Nick explained.
"Like when Silas gave us that orange juice, I mighta said, 'that's
damn fine orange juice'. And then you
mighta said 'sure as hell is'."
"That's all there is to it?"
"That's all."
"That ain't so hard!" Heath sounded surprised.
"Told ya' so," Nick stated as both boys turned their attention to the
sunrise.
Even at the tender ages of seven and eleven, the brothers had a genuine
appreciation for the beauty unfolding before them and both fell silent as they
watched the emerging colors of dawn. As
that pink color that matched the roses in the garden streaked across the
horizon, Heath closed his eyes and saw his Mama smiling. His Pa had been right when he told him that
those visions of his Mama wouldn't always make him cry. Today, as he turned to go back to the house,
his big brother's arm again slung over his shoulders, he was smiling.
"Damn, that was pretty," Nick breathed out as they walked.
With an equally heartfelt sigh, Heath agreed, "Sure as hell was."
It was an hour later when the family gathered in the dining room for breakfast. Heads were bowed as Tom Barkley said the
blessing but two of those sitting at the table barely listened to the words he
spoke. They were thinking about the
words they were planning to say, one wondering how those words would be
received by the elder Barkleys and the other wondering if he'd even recognize
the opportunity when it presented itself.
As the prayer ended, Victoria Barkley asked of the son on her right,
"Nick, what would you like for breakfast?"
No time like the present, Nick figured.
So he said boldly, "I'll just have some of that damn oatmeal."
The orange juice that their father has started to swallow choked him as his
chair was pushed back with a crash and he stood up sputtering. But it was Victoria who said, "NICHOLAS
JONATHON BARKLEY!"
To the little boy watching from the other side of the table, it looked like
flames were shooting from her eyes and smoke was coming from her ears as she
stood up and took hold of her son's arm.
Heath had never seen her face such a bright shade of red and was afraid
it might explode if it got any brighter.
"I WILL NOT HAVE YOU SAYING SUCH THINGS!" she stated emphatically as
her husband continued coughing at the other end of the table. "I WANT YOU TO LEAVE THIS TABLE
IMMEDIATELY AND GO UP TO YOUR ROOM AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE JUST SAID! AND
YOU ARE NOT TO COME OUT OF YOUR ROOM UNTIL YOUR FATHER OR I GIVE YOU
PERMISSION!"
Nick was only too happy to escape his mother's wrath as he hurried from the
room and up the stairs. He could still
hear his father coughing from the juice he'd choked on and he didn't doubt that
when the man could talk he'd have something to say about his son's choice of
words. Well, he rationalized, at least
he'd done it first so now Heath would know better. He'd have to remember to tell him that rule number 63 said that a
big brother did the dangerous stuff first to keep little brothers from getting
in trouble
if there was trouble to be found.
Heath tried to stop shaking as he listened to his brother running up the stairs
but it seemed a lost cause. That had
been about the most frightening thing he'd ever seen. His Pa was choking and Mrs. Barkley was now patting him on the
back but both their faces were that same bright red that scared him so much. He could feel his insides shivering and he
tucked his hands under the sides of his legs to try to keep them from trembling. It seemed like forever before his Pa was
breathing easy and Mrs. Barkley returned to her chair. Their faces didn't look so red but he still
couldn't stop shaking as he thought of the way both adults had sprung from
their chairs and how Nick had been banished from the room for what he'd said.
Victoria looked over at Heath and saw the fear in his wide blue eyes. Well, she told herself, he was bound to hear
her get angry sooner or later. She
tried to put him at ease with a smile as she asked, "What would you like
for breakfast, sweetheart?"
"I don't know," Heath said, his voice quivering as he tried not to
cry, "but if it's gonna make ya' that mad, I sure as hell don't want any
of that damn oatmeal."
Orange juice sprayed from his Pa's mouth and, if possible, her voice was even
louder as Mrs. Barkley exclaimed, "HEATH MORGAN BARKLEY!"
The seven-year-old was out of his chair and up the stairs so fast that he was
certain he got to his room before she even finished saying his name. The door slammed shut behind him and he
threw himself onto his bed, crawling up against the headboard and drawing his
legs up to hug them close to his chest as he sat there shaking. Something had gone terribly wrong
but he
wasn't sure exactly what that was. He
hoped there was a rule that said big brothers had to explain such mysteries of
life to their little brothers because whatever had gone wrong, he didn't NEVER
want to make THAT mistake again.
And he sure as hell wanted to know what it was about that damn oatmeal that
made his Pa and Mrs. Barkley so mad.
THE END