The Monstrosity, Part Twenty-One

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)

Rating: R

LINK TO PART ONE

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I didn’t go straight to bed after I got my family settled. I walked into Drew’s room instead—quietly, in case he was sleeping.

He was. I could see him by the shuttered lantern I’d carried into his room. He was sleeping on his side, more-or-less on top of his covers, facing the wall. He appeared so peaceful and innocent that I couldn’t help but smile at the picture he made.

I should have just left, but I leaned up against his doorframe instead, watching him. He stirred in his sleep as if he felt my gaze. Then he rolled over to face me.

“Adam?” he asked in a groggy voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Com’ere,” he muttered.

I set the lantern down and walked over to his bed. I took a seat on the edge of it, allowing my hand to rest nonchalantly on his shoulder.

“Family settled in?” he asked.

“They’re fine,” I assured him. “Thank you for inviting them here.” I paused and cocked my head at him. “You didn’t have to leave us—I wouldn’t have minded you staying.”

He managed a shrug. “I asked them here—don’t expect me to grace them with my presence too. I’m not one for playing the grand host.”

I smiled a little at that. “I know. But—well, I think you’ll like them well enough once you get to know them, Drew.”

He propped himself up on his elbow and stared in my direction. “Why do you care if I like them or not?”

I shrugged. “I’ve sort of adopted you as another brother, remember? It’d be nice if you got along with my Pa and Hoss and Joe.”

He shook his head at me. “There’s no chance of that. I despise them.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why?” I demanded. “You scarcely know them.”

“I know,” he owned. “It’s not them—it’s just the fact that they have a better claim on you than I do. This is sheer, petty jealousy on my part, Adam.”

I rolled my eyes again. “Well, you’re honest; I’ll give you that. But there’s no cause for you to be jealous. If you give them a chance, Drew, they’ll welcome you into the family.”

He snorted. “No thank you. I have my brother and I have you—I don’t want any more family than that.”

“Drew,” I said softly, reaching out to tousle his hair, “for my sake, will you keep us company tomorrow?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Sweet Jesus—is it that damned important to you?”

“Yes.”

He swore under his breath. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll play the dutiful host tomorrow—but you owe me.”

I grinned down at him. “What do I owe you?”

“That’s an interesting question,” he mused. He furrowed his brow as he thought the matter over. “A play,” he decided. “There’s one in town now, isn’t there? I want you to accompany me to it. Your box or mine—I don’t care which.”

“Still determined to force me out in public?”

He nodded. “It’s good for you. Don’t worry—if some girl tries to press her attentions on you again I’ll swat her away with my cane.”

I laughed at that and tousled his hair again. “All right,” I said. “You have a deal.”

I meant to take my leave of him then, but he caught my hand in his own. “Did you tell your family about Kane?” he asked.

I hesitated at that, but at length I managed to answer. “Yes,” I said. “I blurted it out. It probably doesn’t matter; I think they had already guessed. And they don’t seem ashamed of me or ready to disinherit me.”

“Pity. If they did, I’d have you all to myself.”

I laughed again—but then my face grew serious. “My Pa looked like he aged ten years once he knew for certain what Kane did to me. He was…he was stricken.”

“If you learn to live with this, Adam, he will too. And so will your brothers.”

“I know,” I said. “But tell me how to do that, Drew.”

“Be more charitable toward yourself,” he advised. “You’re not less of man just because Kane raped you. And stop letting Kane dominate your thoughts—in the end, Adam, he was just some poor mad devil who wanted to die in the desert.”

“You expect me to have compassion for him?”

He shook his head. “Not compassion—just perspective. You’re making him out to be more than he was, Adam. He wasn’t a demon from hell. He was just a crazy, suicidal brute.”

He paused and groped for my arm. When he found it, his grip was almost painful.

“Kane can’t do anything to you now, Adam,” he continued. “He’s dead. He doesn’t have any power over you—except what you give him.”

He released me then and sank back down onto his mattress. “Now get out,” he told me. “Unless you mean to spend the night with me.”

I managed a slight grin at that as I stood up. “Good night, Drew.”

He didn’t answer me. He just rolled back over so that he was facing the wall again.

I walked across the hall to my room, letting his words run through my mind. He was right about my family. If I could bury Kane—if I could keep him in my past, where he belonged—then Pa wouldn’t feel as though he failed me. He wouldn’t have that stricken look. And Hoss and Joe wouldn’t be crucifying themselves for not finding me sooner.

I tugged off my cravat, undid the buttons of my waistcoat and then sat down on my bed. But I wasn’t tired. And I didn’t particularly care to be alone.

Before Kane, I would have just put up with this sense of alienation that seemed to be strangling me. And I would have ignored it. But I was getting quite selfish in the aftermath of that damned desert—I knew I wanted to be with someone who understood something of what I’d gone through. So I sighed and walked back across the hall, back into Drew’s room. I crossed over to him without ceremony and sat down on the edge of his bed again.

He heard me. “Is that you?” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” I admitted, shifting my position so that I could lean back against the headboard. “You don’t mind if I sit here for a while, do you?”

He yawned. “No, I don’t mind,” he managed, shaking his head.

And that was an end to the matter. He didn’t even turn around to face me….and soon I heard his breaths grow deep and even. He had fallen back asleep. I smiled at that. He understood me well enough to realize that I just wanted another human presence—I didn’t require conversation.

I cringe when I look back at that moment. Now I can see just what shameful advantage I was taking of Drew. He was so much in love with me that he wanted my company on any terms I offered—and I was so desperate for someone who understood me that I didn’t mind toying with him.

And that’s what I was doing—toying with him. I wasn’t able to be his lover, but I wasn’t willing to keep the boundaries of a normal friendship either. All I can say in my defense is that I never led him on: he knew what a sorry state I was in. I suppose that’s why he put up with such treatment.

Or perhaps he just didn’t realize that he deserved better.

Four years have passed since that night. I’m sitting up in the room that serves as our library as I write this. Drew is sitting opposite me, curled up in one of the chairs, sound asleep.

But we’re not alone. Reuben Cobbs is here too—he’s still awake, sorting through some paperwork before he turns in for the night.

Reuben Cobbs: I should have mentioned him earlier, I suppose—but back when I was staying at the Monstrosity with Drew, I had no notion that Reuben would force his way into our lives.

I said earlier that Drew and I had reached such an understanding that I didn’t believe anything could come between our friendship. I was wrong. Reuben blasted his way between us...when he riddled Drew’s brother with bullets.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me take a step back.

There’s not much to tell of the next day. Drew was all politeness to my father and brothers. It was a cool politeness, however—one that did not encourage any sort of friendship. I couldn’t fault him for his behavior as a host, but he certainly didn’t help my family warm up to him. Their pointed looks told me that they were still baffled by my affection for him.

I’ll just add that their bafflement has not decreased over these past four years. Drew loves very few people; I can count them on one hand. He has little use for the rest of the world. The best I can hope for is that his resentment and jealousy of my Pa and brothers will eventually fade into indifference. But that hasn’t happened yet.

I couldn’t even explain his coolness to them. I couldn’t tell them that he was motivated by jealousy. In some ways, my family is distressingly bourgeois. If I told them that Drew was carrying a torch for me, they’d have been scandalized.

I didn’t discuss Kane with my Pa or Hoss or Joe the next day—or anytime over the next few months. (I did discuss him with them again, and at much greater length, but that came later.) But that night when I was sitting on Drew’s bed, watching Drew sleep, I reached a decision.

Kane was not haunting me alone. He was affecting my family. I’d felt my Pa’s eyes on me ever since my time in the desert. There were times, I think, when he feared for my sanity. And I had overheard snatches of whispered conversations between my Pa and my brothers—wondering what to do as I steadfastly refused to see anyone apart from themselves and a few hands.

Until now, I had largely ignored what was happening to my family—and what my obsession with Kane’s memory was doing to them. It had to stop.

At least Drew had gotten me back into town and out into public. But that was only half the battle. Drew said I had to learn to put Kane into perspective—to stop giving his memory so much power over me.

He was right. And after that night, I started to do just that.

Don't mistake me. I wasn't able to bury Kane overnight—but at least my life fell into a comfortable routine. I began behaving more like myself. I started handling most of the Ponderosa’s business again and to that end I spent plenty of time in town. And so I lived at the Monstrosity at least one week out of every four.

That suited Drew and me quite well. We managed to get our hands on some samples of Braille’s work and, using it, I was able to teach him to read. In fact, once he got over his embarrassment—he was still ashamed of his illiteracy—Drew soaked up his lessons. Our only problem became finding more works in Braille’s system.

When I was on the Ponderosa, I generally worked with either Hoss and Joe or with a few select hands. One of those hands was a boy I had hired myself—Reuben Cobbs.

I liked Reuben. He was about Joe’s age and, like Joe, he was a charmer as far as the ladies went. In fact, I ended up breaking up a fight between Joe and Reuben over some girl or other. But Reuben was also a hard working kid who was anxious to prove himself to me. He was new to ranch work, but he learned quick. And he was willing and eager, even when it came to grueling duties. So, overall, I was happy to have him on my team.

However, Reuben never told me that he had a sister. A sister who, it turned out, was involved with Jack Clayton. That’s how the trouble started—the trouble that ended in Jack’s death and a fierce enmity between myself and Drew.