The Christmas Lesson
Christmas
Childhood Trilogy -- Story Three
by Lindabrit
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.
It was not unusual for seven year old Nick Barkley to arrive home from school sporting
a black eye, several other cuts and bruises and with his clothes muddied and
torn from a schoolyard fight. Indeed it occurred frequently enough for him to
be scolded regularly by his long-suffering mother and occasionally earned him a
spanking from his exasperated father. It considerably surprised both parents
one summer afternoon when the big front door of the Barkley mansion was opened
by a bedraggled survivor of just such a schoolyard scrap. Only it was not
Nicholas this time, but eleven year old Jarrod.
He was quite a sight, his lip was split and his nose had bled copiously all
down the front of his white shirt. The shirt was torn at the sleeve and his
bruises were many. Victoria hurried to her son at once.
"Jarrod! What on earth happened to you?"
"Nothing," said Jarrod sullenly, jerking his head away from her
caressing hands.
"I beg your pardon?" Tom Barkley's cold stern tone brought Jarrod's
head up fast.
"I'm sorry Sir," said the boy at once, "I mean...it's nothing
much."
Tom took Jarrod's dogged chin in his hand and inspected the boy's hurts.
"Well it doesn't look like nothing to me Son, it looks like you've had
quite a fight, suppose you tell me what it's all about."
Jarrod's mouth was set in a stubborn line and he stayed silent.
Tom was surprised, Jarrod was an intelligent and cool-headed child, he was no
coward but he usually let his clever tongue sort out his problems. It wasn't
like him to resort to his fists and it seemed to Tom that it was necessary to
find out what lay behind the fight.
He fixed his austere gaze on Jarrod, "I'm waiting Son," he said
firmly.
Jarrod's expressive eyes met his sire's without flinching, "I...I don't
have anything else to say Sir."
Tom was in a dilemma, Jarrod was a good boy, he worked hard at school and was
obviously destined for great things academically. He was obedient and
respectful at home too, his actions now were very much out of character. On the
other hand, Tom could scarcely let the boy's open defiance pass without
comment. Tom glanced at Victoria, she shook her head slightly. She obviously
knew as little as Tom about what was troubling Jarrod, but her hazel eyes
pleaded for leniency.
Tom released Jarrod's chin, "I think you'd better go take a bath and
change your clothes, we'll talk later."
Jarrod made himself scarce and Victoria and Tom sat down to discuss their
eldest son.
Victoria voiced the thought that was troubling both parents, "it's really
not like Jarrod to get into fights, there must be more to this."
Tom's vivid blue eyes teased her, "well you kind of stopped me finding out
what," he said mildly.
"Tom you can't simply drag the truth out of the boy, he'll wind up hating
you if you treat him that way," protested Victoria. "Jarrod is an
honourable boy, he may have what he feels is a good reason for not telling you
what happened."
Tom shook his head, "I hear what you're saying Darling, but that good
reason just might be that Jarrod has done something he knows will get me
mad."
Hidden on the landing at the top of the stairs and listening intently, Jarrod
heard his father's words and uttered a curse under his breath. Had she heard
what he said, his mother would have washed his mouth out with soap. Trust his
father to get straight to the heart of the matter, damn it why was that man
always right?
The boy went slowly to the bathroom, deep in thought and washed the worst of
the mud off himself, then went to his room and changed into fresh clothes. He
was just fastening his shirt buttons when there was a knock at the door and his
mother came in.
Victoria smiled at him, "well that's an improvement, you look more like my
Jarrod now."
Jarrod was watching her warily, but he returned the smile, "who did I look
like before?"
"Nick of course!"
Jarrod had to laugh, but became serious again almost at once.
Victoria's voice was warmly sympathetic, "Jarrod, listen to me Darling,
every boy gets into an occasional fight at school and if that's all this is,
your father and I won't say another word about it, really we won't."
His mother paused and Jarrod's intelligent eyes remained fixed on her face. She
reached for him and drew him towards her, stroking his face and saying softly,
"but I know you Jarrod and I don't think this was any schoolyard scrap, I
think there's a lot more to it than that, am I right?"
Jarrod's expressive eyes gave her the answer to her question, but he was
steadfastly silent.
Victoria led her son to his bed and they sat together side by side, his hand in
hers.
"Jarrod, your father thinks that you may be reluctant to tell him what's
happened because you've done something he would disapprove of, is he
right?"
The eleven year old's dark head dipped low and she barely heard his murmured
"yes Ma'am."
Victoria smiled lovingly, Jarrod was such a good boy, "how about telling
me what happened Jarrod? If I can help your father to understand what it's all
about, perhaps he won't be as angry as you imagine he will."
The eleven year old's vivid eyes met Victoria's honestly. "I'm afraid he
will be angry Mama, I've disobeyed him you see."
His mother squeezed his hand encouragingly, "tell me all about it
Honey."
At length, mother and son came downstairs together hand in hand and joined Tom
in the big living room. Seven year old Nick had come indoors after currying his
beloved pony and was happily wrestling with his father on the rug before the
bright fire. As Victoria and Jarrod entered the room, Tom fended little Nick
off and stood up, he could tell by the apprehensive expression on Jarrod's face
that his initial instinct had been correct. The boy was in trouble and was
summoning up the courage to confess to his formidable father.
Tom smiled at his unhappy son, it was nearly Christmas after all, if he couldn't
let his son down easy now when could he do it?
"Come on Jarrod, I'm not such an ogre as all that am I? What is this all
about Son?"
Jarrod glanced hesitantly at his mother and she nodded encouragingly. Little
Nick's hazel eyes gleamed with excitement and he too piped up, "you should
tell him, he might be able to help."
Jarrod glared at the seven year old, "shut up Nick!"
Tom frowned at his second son and the boy subsided at once, brushing his unruly
dark hair out of his eyes and casting himself down on the rug before the bright
fire. Victoria seated herself on the settee and held out a welcoming hand,
after a moment's hesitation, Jarrod went and sat beside his mother.
Tom spoke in a voice that was brisk but warmly encouraging. "Out with it
Jarrod, I'm not going to bite but I'm determined to know why you've been beaten
up."
The eleven year old's head came up and he met his father's eye. "I was
defending someone," he answered quietly.
"Who?"
"A friend."
"You're trying my patience young man! Which friend?"
Jarrod sighed, here goes, he thought. "David Vale," he said
defiantly, "I was defending David Vale."
Tom's eyes flickered in Victoria's direction, she flashed him a warning glance
and obedient to her message, her husband kept his hot temper in check. He spoke
with ominous quietness, "I believe I made it clear that I would have no
further contact between my family and the Vale family."
Jarrod didn't flinch, "yes Sir, you did make it clear."
Tom's tone was hard, "then why did you get involved with David?"
To the surprise of both his parents, Jarrod stood up and walked right up to his
father, craning his head to look up directly into those austere eyes,
"because it was the right thing to do," he said simply.
Over Jarrod's head the eyes of both parents met, Victoria's brim- full of
laughter at the disconcerted expression on her husband's face. Tom quelled a
bubble of amusement that threatened to escape him, at the same time he was
aware of a flash of pride in his eldest son, the boy was no coward that was for
sure. He smiled at Jarrod, saying mildly, "all right Son, put your hackles
down and tell me all about it."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Jarrod sat beside his mother again and told Tom
what had been going on at school.
"There are a few boys that delight in bullying the weaker ones in my
class, especially if they're clever and David is clever, he comes top in
everything, well we both do I guess."
Tom frowned, "so you've been a target too have you?"
Jarrod shook his head, "they tried it with me, but...not any more!"
Tom smiled, "you fought them alone?"
"Well of course he didn't," said an indignant little voice, "I
helped him!"
Tom nodded his head gravely in Nick's direction, "I beg your pardon
Son," he said with admirable gravity.
Jarrod managed to smile, "he did too," he acknowledged.
Tom said gently, "I understand you taking a stand against bullies Jarrod,
but have you had any other contact with young David?"
"Yes," said Jarrod with commendable honesty.
Nick decided to help out, "he's been sharing his lunch with him,"
blurted the seven year old.
"Shut up Nick!"
Victoria's hazel eyes were clouded with distress, "Jarrod please tell me,
are things that hard for the Vales, Beatrice Vale told me her brother and
sister-in-law were going to help them out?"
Jarrod shook his head, "they aren't getting any help from anywhere, Mrs
Vale's brother wanted her to stop visiting Mr Vale in prison and she won't, so
they washed their hands of her."
"How very Christian of them," murmured Tom dryly.
Jarrod's brilliant gaze was fixed on his sire's face and Tom said firmly,
"don't look at me like that Son, I may have turned my back on Bernard Vale
but he was a man I trusted and he lied to me. He also cheated and robbed many
people and allowed them to think that I was his partner in doing so! I had
every right to sever all ties with him."
The unwavering gaze of his eldest son burned into Tom's face. "His family
didn't do anything wrong Father, David is my friend and I couldn't stand by and
let him be bullied, I...I know how bad it was making him feel."
Little Nick decided to help again, "he knows because he's been bullied
too..."
Jarrod rounded on him fiercely, "if you don't shut up I'm going to shut
you up!"
"I ain't afraid of you," declared Nick stoutly. He looked into his
father's face, "he's been bullied a lot but he wouldn't tell you in case
you thought he was a weakling...and...he's not a weakling Papa, he's been real
brave."
"Nick!" Jarrod's voice was a warning growl.
Tom ruffled Nick's dark hair, "thank you for telling me Nick, I
understand." He looked at his tense eleven year old, his vivid eyes
softening as he did so, "your mother and I will visit Mrs Vale tomorrow
morning and I give you my word that I'll see they want for nothing in the future
Jarrod."
Jarrod's face had been grave and anxious, now he smiled waveringly, "Thank
you Father."
The following afternoon, Christmas Eve, Tom and Victoria drove to the Vale
house, a large detached property on the outskirts of Stockton, reached via it's
own beaten drive from the road. As Tom pulled the buggy up outside the imposing
front entrance, a man came into view, he was nailing a stout piece of timber
over the door. Upon enquiry, the Barkleys learned that Beatrice Vale and her
son and two daughters had been evicted from their home by foreclosing creditors
several weeks before.
The new home of the disgraced Vale family proved to be a wooden cabin on the
poor side of Stockton and when a reluctant Beatrice admitted her former friends
to her humble new surroundings, it was plain how far her fortunes had fallen.
The air was cold, for there was no fuel to make a fire and there was a table
and two straight chairs in the room. An old stove stood to one side and in a
curtained alcove there was one large bed, where it was clear the whole family
slept together.
Beatrice was too pulled down by poverty and exhaustion to dissemble and she
offered no spurious explanations or excuses, just let her friends see for
themselves what straits her family was now reduced to. Gently pressing her
friend into one of the two chairs, Victoria took Beatrice's icy hand in hers
and made a discovery, Beatrice was holding her wedding ring in the palm of her
hand.
Victoria's clear hazel eyes looked a question and Beatrice said with quiet
bitterness, "I'm on my way to the pawn shop, to get enough money to set a
meal before my children tomorrow, the ring is all I have left now."
Flushing to the roots of his hair, Tom Barkley said, "please forgive me
Beatrice, I let my anger against Bernard blind me to the fix you found yourself
in, I'm truly sorry."
The tired woman reared her head up proudly, "It's a fix of my own making,
all I had to do to earn my brother's charity was to repudiate my husband. I
wouldn't do it for him and I'm not about to do it for you either Tom."
He shook his head, "I won't ask you to, but I will ask you to let me help
you and...it won't be charity Beatrice."
Victoria slipped her friend's wedding ring back on her finger, "no indeed,
there can be no charity between friends, just true friendship."
Tom was very quiet on the drive back to the Barkley mansion and Victoria knew
he was wrestling with his feelings. He had been cut to the quick by the
treacherous and unscrupulous conduct of Bernard Vale, a man who had been a
trusted friend and business partner. When his deceptions in business had been
discovered, Vale had briefly tried to use Tom Barkley's good name to save his
own neck and it was this that Tom had found so very hard to pardon.
In anger, Tom had decreed that none of the Barkleys would hence- forward have
anything to do with the Vales and reluctantly, Victoria had complied with her
husband's wishes. Neither of them had imagined that Beatrice's own family would
cast her and her children off and Victoria knew that Tom must feel as guilty as
she herself felt, for having allowed the Vale family to suffer for the past few
months. Since, in fact, Bernard Vale had been sent to San Quentin prison to
start his five year jail sentence.
Victoria had left Tom with Beatrice, talking through her difficulties, while
she had gone shopping and she had marketed with a will. It was some comfort at
least, to know that the Vale cabin was now warm, adequately lit and it's
larders were bursting with food and provisions. More furniture was to be
delivered that same afternoon and an account had been set up at several local
emporia to enable Beatrice and the family to clothe themselves and buy a few
Christmas gifts to brighten the following day. The Vales were to come and dine
on the day after Christmas too and Tom had promised Beatrice that he would
discuss with her then, what permanent arrangements he would make for her
family. She had looked at him with hope dawning in her anguished eyes and he
had squeezed her hand, promising to find a more suitable home for the Vale
family before the New Year.
After dinner that evening, Tom sat alone with Jarrod for a few minutes and
talked with his son. He spoke frankly to the boy, "Jarrod, when you told
me you had disobeyed me and stayed friends with David Vale, I was angry with
you and I felt like teaching you a lesson. Instead it's you who have taught me
one. A man should never abandon a friend Son, no matter what they may have
done. I was wrong to take out my anger against Bernard Vale on his family, from
now on, I can promise you that they won't want for a thing."
Jarrod was in his arms before he had finished speaking, stammering out a
disjointed jumble of thanks and mingled apologies. Tom held his boy close and
calmed him then told him he wanted to talk to him about the bullying at school.
Jarrod scowled and his expressive eyes flashed, "Nicky has a big
mouth!"
Tom laughed, "well I won't disagree with you there Son, but I'm glad he
told me though. Jarrod I admire you for standing up for yourself but if you
need my help, don't be too stubborn to ask for it will you?"
Jarrod smiled at him, saying with a hint of pride, "thanks Father, but
David and I gave a good account of ourselves, we aren't expecting any more
trouble."
"I'm glad to hear that Son. I've talked it over with your mother and in
two years time, if you want to, I'm willing to send you to St Michael's school
in Monk's Ferry, if you'd like to go."
Jarrod considered the matter, "I've heard of it, it's a really good
school, I could learn a lot there and...and I'd like to go...but...I'd have to
live there wouldn't I?"
"Monday to Friday you would," conceded Tom, "but you can spend
all your weekends and holidays at home of course."
Jarrod's long lashes veiled his gleaming eyes for a moment, "I'd miss the
family and...and David," he said as casually as he could manage.
Tom had to hide a grin, the cunning little devil! "Never let it be said
that I couldn't take a hint Jarrod, I'm willing to pay for David to attend St
Michael's too."
The glowing gratitude in his son's face was reward enough for the generosity of
this statement.
Jarrod snuggled close again, "Papa?"
"Yes Jarrod?"
"I'm glad I don't go to boarding school for another two years yet."
Tom hugged his eldest boy, "me too Son, who would I play chess with?"
"Merry Christmas Papa."
"Merry Christmas Jarrod."