by Livvie
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.
At night, when I am alone, defying the presence of sleep
that I know I need, I reflect on things. The things I think about in the wee
hours of the morning are not pleasantries. They are thoughts of deep sorrow,
intense pain, heavy guilt, and unthinkable remorse.
I suppose you are wondering what someone like me could have possibly been
through to build up so much angst over. Well, let me let you in on a secret,
things are not always as they appear. To my clients I tend to come across
poised, sophisticated, and intelligent. To my occasional love interests I'm
sincere, genuine, and a perfect gentleman. To my family I'm a confidant, and a
deeply devoted brother and son. I love them all: Mother, Nick, Heath, Audra,
and naturally the feeling is far beyond mutual. But no one really knows the
real me. There are some who think they do, some that think they can read me
like a book. But those same people are wrong. No one knows the pain I drag
myself through every minute of every day. No one knows, not Mother, not even my
closest brother, Nick.
I suppose you'll want some type of explanation now, won't you?
I guess it all started with my father, Tom Barkley. Growing up, he was the
greatest man I ever knew. I remember when I was a little boy, how my heart
swelled with pride at the mere thought of my father. I was his son, and nothing
could have made me happier. Then the day I turned eighteen, I made a terrible
mistake, one I will regret until the end of my days.
I'm a lawyer, and I'll admit that I am a darn good one. But the cost of my
success was too great. I denied my father the right to see his eldest son take
over his life's work, everything he had built up over the course of many years.
I denied him that right, the one thing he wanted the most, just because I
wanted to become a lawyer.
Things were never really the same after that. Of course I got what I wanted, I
became a lawyer. I even graduated at the top of my class. But you know
something? I would have traded it all back, every bit of my success in exchange
for one thing...to have been at my father's side the moment that he passed on.
Eleven years have gone by since the day he was shot, and that is still all I
want.
I know that right now you are probably thinking that I have more to tell, that
this couldn't possibly be the end of my misery. If you think that, you are
indeed correct.
My brothers, my wonderfully, strong, supportive brothers. I've lost them as
well. They aren't as aware of this loss as I am. This is mainly because I am
less forgiving than they are. It's not that I am less forgiving of them, I
could never hold a grudge against them. It's that I am less forgiving of
myself...I always have been. To them I am their rock, but the honest truth is
that this rock has crumbled into dust on more than one occasion.
I don't know how many times I've doubted them, lied to them, or even let them
down. But even those small misdemeanors are somehow trivial when you compare it
to the time that I almost shot them down in cold blood. I know that many times
Nick and Heath both have told me to forget it. Frankly, I do not understand
their logic. How does one forget that his brothers almost died at his hands?
Even if amnesia is the excuse...well...it's not an excuse. No man can forget.
How could a man live with himself if he forgot?
He can't.
But wait, there is still more to tell.
My wife, my Beth. My beautiful, kind, darling Beth. For a while, I thought that
with her, my life could begin again. Somehow I thought that her love could save
me from my sorrow. It was an unfair burden to place upon her, but I thought she
could rise to the challenge. Indeed, she could have, if her life had not been
cut so short. It was my fault.
I knew better than to trust Cass Hyatt when he told me he bore no ill will
toward me. I knew better than not to tell Beth about him. I knew better than to
think I could protect her. I knew better than to take her out that fateful
afternoon. All that time, I knew better.
I knew better, and yet I did nothing.
I suppose that to truly understand the extensiveness of my loss you would have
to be me, walk a mile in my shoes, as they say. But alas, you are not me, and I
pray to God you never will be.
My losses are like vapors, little wisps of what used to be. No matter how hard
you want to get it back, you cannot. They have already disappeared.
I think about these things late at night. I think about my constant pain.
Believe me when I tell you it hurts. It hurts like hell.