Eric "Hoss" Cartwright

By Tennessee

Hoss, son, today you will be eighteen years old. And as I sit down to write about your life, it makes me have tears in my eyes. Son, you know about Adam and his ma. So I'm going to start with the day I met your ma.

When I walked into her store and she smiled at me, I smiled back and she gave Adam something for his cold. She helped me get a part-time job. We became friends.

Inger had long blonde hair. It went nearly to her feet. She put it up in a bun on the top of her head. She had blue-green eyes, and her laugh was so soft and sweet. We became good friends and spent a lot of time together. As we spend more and more time together, Adam loved her and I realized I was starting to fall in love with her. But I was still dealing with my loss of Adam's mother, and I did not want to fall in love again.

Then one day Inger was by the lake crying. I stopped to see if I could help. She was crying so hard. I put my arms around her and asked, "What's wrong?"

She said, "Ben, my brother is going to sell our store and is going to make me marry a man I do not love."

I was so mad I yelled, "He can't do that, Inger. I love you!"

She looked at me in surprise. "What?"

I said, "Inger, I'm in love with you and Adam loves you too."

She wiped her eyes and said she loved me too. I kissed her and asked her to marry me. She said yes.

A week later we got married and joined a wagon train and went on west. We were all so happy to be heading west again. One day the wagon train traveled all day and made camp a few hours before dark. Your ma cooked by a campfire. She liked being with the wagon train, but she didn't like having to cook on a campfire. And one night we got in a big fight, and she yelled at me, "Ben, we need a real home! I'm so tired of riding in a wagon and cooking by a campfire."

I tried to be calm and said, "Inger, honey, we have to keep going to get to the far west."

"Why?" she yelled back.

"Because . . . "

She ran away before I could answer. She came back in time to fix supper, but we did not talk that day. She spoke to Adam but not to me. That night she cried herself to sleep.

The next day she stayed in the wagon with Adam all day. When we stopped that night, Inger went for a long walk, and I saw her washing her face in a small lake. I went down there and asked if she was okay.

She said, "I'm fine. I need to cook supper."

"Inger, sweetheart, we need to talk."

She sat down on a rock and said, "You're right."

"Inger, I'm tired to riding, too, but we have to. We can't turn back now."

"I know, Ben. I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me."

"It's ok, sweetheart. I'm sorry too." I kissed her. She was so pale, and when I thought about it that night I realized she was with child.

Hoss, your ma was so tall and big and strong, but she did not feel well when she was with child. Finally, after four months she started to eat better, and she was much happier. There was no doctor on the wagon train and that worried me. But soon Inger was strong and healthy. She gained so much weight I used to tell her she would have twins. She made a face and said, "One baby at a time."

She was nine months along, and we could not wait to see you. Don't ask me how your ma knew, but she said she would have a son and his name would be Eric. I loved that name.

She was a week overdue when one night she said, "Ben, wake up. It's time."

I ran and got the ladies to help her. They all came running, and when they reached the wagon they gave me Adam and told me to wait outside.

Adam cried, but I told him Inger would be fine. It took your ma a long time to have you. I hear her say she needed to push and the ladies told her to push and then I heard your first cries and I called, "Are my wife and baby all right?"

"They're fine!" someone shouted back.

"I want to see the baby," Adam said. "Ma said I could. Can I?"

I smiled and said, "Yes, you can."

The ladies told us we could come in the wagon then. Adam and I went in the wagon and saw you in your ma's arms. She uncovered you so we could see you, and she smiled and said, "He is so beautiful and healthy."

"And big!" I laughed.

"You're telling me!"

I kissed her. She looked at Adam and said, "This is your brother. His name is Eric."

Adam gave you a kiss and said, "I love you." Then he said, "He has no hair, Pa."

I laughed. "He'll have hair later once it grows."

Inger asked, "Ben, are you going to hold our son?"

I took you and kissed you and said, "I love you, son." And then I gave you back to your ma and you fell asleep in her arms. I put Adam to bed and went to bed myself.

You were a good baby. You never cried much, and you slept a lot. At two months, you began to move your arms and legs a lot. At three months, you could sit up with help. Your head would still bob, but Adam would sit close to you and hold your head. At four months, you could sit up and had good control of your head. Your mother would sing "Rock-a-bye Baby" to you but change the words to "Rock-a-bye Eric."

You grew like a week, and your ma started feeding you solid food because her milk did not fill you up. She made you some mashed potatoes. After your first bite, you made a face and we all laughed at the funny face you'd made.

One day Adam was eating oatmeal and he gave you a bite. You spit it out on Adam's shirt and he cried, "Look what the baby did!" I laughed and got him a clean shirt and your ma cleaned you up.

You were so big, Adam could not pick you up anymore. He just sat and played next to you. Your ma loved to spend time with you, and you always smiled at her, but she said it was just gas because a baby couldn't smile at that age. We were all so happy.

Then one day Adam was asleep in the wagon and your ma and I were talking outside when someone yelled, "Indians!" I told your ma to get in the wagon with you and Adam.

"But I want to stay with you!"

"No, Inger. Go inside now."

The Indians got closer and as she got up to go in the wagon, she was hit with an arrow not far from her heart. A man from the wagon train ran the Indians off and ran to Inger. "Oh, Inger, my love. Inger, don't leave us."

She was weak. She said, "Ben, please take good care of our sons."

You started crying and she asked to see you one last time. I got you and she leaned over and kissed you. Adam was in the wagon. I said, "Come here, son," and he did. Inger smiled and tried to talk. It was hard for her but she went on, "Adam, ma has to go away. I have to go to heaven."

"Why?" Adam asked.

"It's just my time, son." She had tears in her eyes and so did I.

"Adam, your pa needs you to help with your brother, ok?"

With tears, Adam said, "Ok, ma."

"That's my big boy." She said, "I love all of you," and she was gone.

I had you in one arm and Adam in the other. We were all crying when the leader of the wagon train walked up and said, "We will take care of her. You stay with your sons, Ben." I took you two into the wagon. You two boys cried and cried and so did I later at the gravesite. Some of the ladies from the wagon train wanted to take care of you two, but I told them no.

Adam said, "Sing," and you clapped your hands, and I sang "Rock-a-bye." You fell asleep, but Adam cried through the night. I made a cross with your ma's name on it, and when Adam fell asleep I went to your ma's grave and put up her cross. "Inger," I told her, "I will take care of our sons, but my heart is broken and I will miss you. I will always love you." With tears streaming down my cheeks, I said, "Goodbye, my sweet Inger." I went back to the wagon.

When the wagon train left, I cried. I left some of my heart there on the trail. Adam was sad and you and he cried a lot. You continued to grow and liked to put your feet in your mouth and suck on your toes. Adam would say, "No no, Eric." You looked so much like your ma. At six months, you could roll from your stomach onto your back, and I could not keep you on a blanket; you would roll right off. At seven months, you loved to sit alone and bang toys together.

We all missed your ma, but we were getting on with our lives without her. We turned back east and stopped in a little town and stayed there so I could properly care for you and Adam. You started to crawl and soon you could walk with me holding your hands. One day Adam tried to help you walk but he didn't have the strength to hold you nad you fell and bumped your head. You had a little cut, but I cleaned it and told you everything would be ok.

At nine months you could crawl while holding a toy. At ten months, you could climb, and you climbed onto the table and Adam came running to me. "Eric is on the table!" I ran as fast as I could. I had put a bowl of flour on the table, and when I got there you had the bowl on your head and flour was everywhere. You had light brown hair but it looked white from all the flour. All I could see was your big blue eyes; everything else was white. I gave you a bath and washed your hair. And you smiled and so did I. You could stand alone by this time, and one day Adam gave you a spoon and you used it to put your food in your mouth. Adam jumped for joy. "Eric can feed himself."

"He is getting bid, " I said. And about that time you started to wave and you waved all the time. You were such a happy baby and looked more and more like your ma.

You could walk without help at one year old, and you were into everything. I could not take my eyes off you for one minute. On day you saw the coffee can and you took the lid off it. You put it in your mouth, and when I saw you and saw the coffee on your face, I knew what had happened. I picked you up and washed you and told you no. You cried because you thought I was mad at you. "Oh son, don't worry," I said. "Pa loves you. Pa isn't mad at you." I put you down for a nap and sat down and thought about your ma.

I made you a birthday cake. It was burned on the bottom and it looked more like a pancake, but you loved it. You put your hands in it and got cake all over your face and hair. Adam laughed and laughed.

At thirteen months you could say "Hi" and "Bye." You loved to play Peek-a-boo. I started teaching you to drink from a cup. One day you dropped your cup on Adam's head. Adam said, "No no." And you echoed, "No no." I laughed.

You started pointing to your eyes and nose and ears, and one day you poked yourself in the eye with your finger. Adam comforted you, saying, "It's ok, brother."

At fourteen months you loved to hide from me, and one day I looked and looked for you and finally found you under the bed. I sat on the bed and you said, "Boo!" But I was so mad at you for worrying me that I sternly told you never to hide from me again.

At fifteen months you could say "Papa," and one day you said "Ma."

I looked at you and Adam said, "Ma died, brother."

I told you, "Your ma is in heaven."

"With my ma, right Pa?" Adam said.

"That's right, son."

Time went by fast and before I knew it you were two years old. You were so big and tall for your age and you loved to be outside during the day. One time you and Adam were outside and I heard you say, "Cat!" I didn't know what you were talking about and when I looked I saw that you were pointing to a skunk. I knew if I tried to run to you, it would spray, but Adam did not know that and he ran toward you. The skunk lifted its tail and sprayed both of you. Adam got your hand and pulled you into the house. You two stunk so badly the odor burned my eyes. I knew I needed some tomato juice to get the smell off you boys, so I told Adam to watch you while I ran to the store. I got four cans of tomatoes, brought them home, put you two in the bathtub, and poured the tomato juice on you. It took a long time to get the smell off and then I bathed you with soap and water. I had to dig a hole and bury your clothes.

At three years old you loved all kinds of animals. Once you picked up a green frog and it jumped down your pants. You jumped up and down so much the frog fell out your pants leg. You loved to follow Adam around. He would say, "Stop following me, Eric," and you would come running to me.

"Adam doesn't like me, Pa."

"I've told you before, son. Give Adam some space." I gave you a hug.

At four years old you loved to draw pictures, and you often asked me about your ma.

I would say, "Your ma was named Inger, and she was very pretty. Her smile would light up a room. She had blue-green eyes that were so bright and kind. Your ma was very tall, and she loved animals and loved to sing."

"She sang my song, Pa?"

"Yes, son. And others. She loved you with all her heart, son."

"I love her, Pa. I'm going to draw a picture of her."

You did, and when you were finished, you showed me the picture and it touched my heart. I still have that picture.

When you were four years old, we moved to New Orleans. I met and married Marie. She loved you like her own.

Before I knew it you were five years old and almost taller than Adam. You learned to write your name in school. Little Joe was born, and you loved to hold him.

When you were six years old, you and Adam got into a fight. You two came home all muddy and I asked what had happened.

"We had a fight," Adam said.

"With whom?"

"With each other," you said.

I sat you two down and said, "Brothers do not hit brothers at any time, is that clear?"

You both said yes.

When you were seven you and Adam learned to ride a horse, and you loved to have horse races. At eight you loved to play with your brothers. At nine the boys at your school called you names because you were so much bigger than the other kids. It hurt your feelings and you stopped going to school but acted like you had. Adam covered up for you until one day I came to pick you boys up from school and the teacher told me you hadn't been to school in a week. I looked at Adam. He tried to explain, but I told him we'd discuss it later. On the way home, Adam told me about the boys calling you names.

I said, "Son, you should not cover up for your brother. You will be in trouble if you lie to me. If something like this happens again, I want you to tell me. Adam, you will come straight home from school for a week. You will have to stay in your room and will not be allowed to play, is that clear?"

"Yes, Pa," Adam said.

You came home soon after. You tried to run out of the house when you saw how angry I was but I caught you and told you we needed to talk.

"You know, Pa?"

"Know what, son?"

"That I have not went to school."

"I do, son."

"Why didn't you tell me about the other boys calling you names?"

"Pa, you would not understand what it's like to be so big and tall. I'm bigger than any of the other kids, and they call me a giant."

"Son, your mother was big."

"I know, Pa, but what can I do about them calling me names?"

"Well, when I was young we used to say 'whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.' And you act like you don't care. It won't be fun for them anymore and they'll stop."

"Ok, Pa."

"I'm going to be checking to make sure you are at school. For the next week you will come home right after school. No playing. You will go to your room when you get home."

"Yes, Pa."

"Adam is in trouble, too, for not telling me that you weren't in school."

The next day I took you and Adam to school The boys called you a giant again, and you told them what I'd told you to and laughed, and they didn't call you names again. And as you got older, those same boys became your friends.

At ten years old you made good grades and loved to ride your horse and play with your brothers.

When you were eleven Adam told you to jump off the barn roof because you could fly like a bird. It's a good thing I saw you up there on the roof and yelled before you could jump. I climbed onto the roof and helped you down and gave Adam a good talking to.

At age twelve you were wearing the same size of clothes as I was. This one time Little Joe picked up a snake and held it close to you. You liked most animals but you didn't like snakes and you said "Pa!" and I took the snake from Little Joe.

At thirteen you loved to make things. You made birdhouses. Our whole house was filled with birdhouses.

At fourteen I could see so much of your ma in you. You looked so much like her.

At fifteen you liked to read about animals and the frontier. We traveled to Eagle Station that year.

At sixteen you won the school spelling bee. I was so proud. Marie was your teacher.

When Marie died you comforted me, son. You made sure everyone in the family was all right. Thank you for that.

When you turned seventeen, I could tell you had feelings for Tess Green. You looked at her just like I had looked at Inger. And it was when you were seventeen that we gave you the nickname Hoss.

I have watched you grow from a newborn to a toddler to a little boy to a young man. And today you are eighteen, son, and I'm so proud of the man you've become. When I see how you love the Ponderosa, it makes me so proud to be your pa. If your ma could see the man you've become, she would be proud of you too. She will always be in your heart son. And in mine. She gave me a wonderful son. I love you, Eric. Pa.

************

On Hoss' eighteenth birthday Hop Sing made ham and green beans and rolls. Tess made Hoss a birthday cake and gave him a new shirt. Adam and Little Joe, with their pa's help, had purchased a new fishing rod. Hop Sing made cookies for Hoss and gave him a book about doctoring animals. Ben gave Hoss the book he had written.

Hoss read every page. He walked to his pa's room that night and knocked on the door. Ben said, "Come in."

"Pa," Hoss said, "I love my gift. Thank you."

"You're welcome, son."

"It helps me feel closer to my ma."

"Your ma loved you so much."

"I know Pa, and now I have something special to remember her by. I'll think of her every time I read your gift. Goodnight, Pa."

"Goodnight, son."

Hoss went to bed with a smile as he thought of his ma.

The End