Winter Sport!

By Vicki C.

The first cold snap of the winter always seems to take me by surprise. No sooner had the harvest been gathered and our small herd been taken to market than the weather decided it was time to remind us that there was still work to be done. Yesterday’s light flurry of snow had made us all remember how much we still had to do to be ready for anything up to four or five months of snow. Usually Saturday was a day for morning and evening chores and a little relaxation for the boys during the rest of the day, but today we had all worked well into the afternoon increasing our supply of firewood. I’d finally called it a day when my two older sons started to argue over who’s turn it was to swing the ax and my youngest began wandering off instead of helping with the stacking. They had all worked hard and without complaint, well nothing more than a few grumbles that I wasn’t supposed to hear.

I had immediately gone in search of coffee. Now I wandered out on to the porch, coffee cup in hand to watch the sun setting over the mountains. To my surprise I could hear the sound of a saw. Surely none of the boys had gone back to the dreaded task, which they had abandoned so readily less than fifteen minutes before? Adam was the carpenter. That figured, he was the most conscientious of the three, but he was working by the barn, not on the woodpile. I couldn’t work out what he was doing. It appeared that he was about to build something, but what? The pieces of wood he had cut were too short and thick to repair the outhouse, the job we had talked about yesterday.

Little Joe stood watching his older brother and like me was curious. Finally, it was obvious his curiosity could no longer be contained.

"Whatcha’ doin’, Adam?" I heard him ask. I moved a bit closer so that I too could hear the answer.

Without missing one pull of the saw Adam answered, "Sawing wood."

Joe pulled a face and I waited for the inevitable follow up question. I don’t know why Adam does that, it’s aggravating and never solves the problem of his young questioner. Anyone could see he was sawing wood but why?

"What’s it for." Joe tried again.

I didn’t expect him to learn much. Adam could be as tight as a clam when he didn’t want little brothers to know something.

I watched in amusement as Adam sighed and straightened up, stretching and putting a hand to the small of his back as the muscles protested. "Wait and see."

Joe’s groan was long and heartfelt, but he stoically remained watching.

Later at supper he enlisted Hoss and me in his quest for information.

"Hoss what you reckon Adam’s makin’?" he asked when we were all seated with our food in front of us.

Hoss started to speak, but heard me clear my throat and thought better. Chewing his food rapidly he swallowed before replying. "Yeah, Adam whatcha makin’?"

Adam carefully and slowly chewed his meat and made them both wait for a full minute before making any sign that he had heard. "I told you, you’d have to wait and see." He selected a potato and continued eating.

I was Joe’s next target. "Pa, don’tcha think Adam ought to tell us what he’s doing?"

I sipped from my water glass, then smiled at my youngest son’s earnest expression. "I don’t think he’s going to tell us, son. You know Adam, if he wants to keep it a secret he will."

Joe settled back in his chair disgruntled and grumbling under his breath. Adam and Hoss continued eating and I just smiled.

As the days progressed Adam continued to work on his mysterious project. His little brother became his shadow, peppering him with questions at every opportunity. Slowly the item took shape. The planks of wood were smoothed and then joined together with struts making a ‘table top’, rounded at one end and with a curious yoke shape which was fastened with a nut and bolt and moved in an arc when you touched it, at the other. The ‘table legs’, of which there were six, were short blocks of wood, way too short to make even a low table. It was at this point that I made a fair guess at the end product. My guess was confirmed when one afternoon he fired up the forge and began bending two strips of iron into long thin blades with curved ends. These were slotted into the ‘table legs’ and Little Joe finally guessed what his brother had been working towards.

"It’s a toboggan!"

I heard my youngest son’s yell from the house. We all did. Adam standing next to him must have been deafened. Hop Sing and I walked outside to check and almost bumped into Hoss who had run around from the woodpile.

I inspected the almost finished toboggan and admired the work. When Adam sets his mind to something like this he is a perfectionist. It can irritate the rest of us who aren’t so particular but he gets excellent results. "It’s beautiful, son."

Adam looked up and smiled. "A coat of paint and it will be."

"When can we use it?" Joe piped up, excitedly.

Adam straightened up fully and eyed his little brother, "First we need enough snow," he said as if lecturing to a particularly slow pupil. "And…" he held up a hand to stop Joe’s next question before it was fully formed. "…who is this we?"

Adam’s subtle remarks and signals are often missed by his brothers, so it was no surprise to me that Joe took the question at face value.

"Me, Hoss and you."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Who built this?" he asked.

Joe shrugged. "You did."

"Did you or Hoss help?"

"You never asked," Hoss ventured. "You never even told us what you was doin’.’"

"Yeah," Joe fired again, "I’da helped if you’d asked." He glanced at me. "Not the forge, ‘cos I ain’t allowed, but I coulda helped." Another more serious look in my direction. "Pa, tell him he’s gotta share. You always say we should share," Joe appealed.

I glanced at my eldest son and his eyes twinkled and gave him away. I signalled that I was prepared to play the game. We were close enough that verbal communication was seldom necessary for something like this.

"Well, son…" I tried to keep my expression serious. "Sharing is a nice thing to do …"

Joe brightened fully expecting me to command his older brother to share.

"…but as Adam says he built it in his spare time and with scrap materials, so I guess it’s his to do with as he wishes."

The disappointment on Little Joe’s face was almost more than I could bear. I hoped Adam would take pity on him and soon.

Adam seemed to be considering the question again. "Of course if you helped me finish my chores so that I had time to use it then that might be different," he said slowly.

I’ve never seen my younger sons volunteer for extra chores so fast in my life. Adam received assurances that they’d help him anytime. I raised an eyebrow in my older son’s direction. This was going to be something to be seen.

"Of course we need to have enough snow first." I put a damper on the excitement.

"Oh, Pa, we know that." Hoss groaned.

"Just see that when the snow does fall the chores are done first," I warned as I left them to plan their tobogganing.

In the days that followed a new problem presented itself. No, not the lack of snow, though that was a problem, it was more the lack of work caused by boys watching for snow. Adam was always first up and he took to looking outside before he did anything. Hoss would stop and gaze longingly at the heavens every half an hour through the day and Joseph went around with his eyes permanently fixed on the clouds or lack of them. Each day without snow led to an evening of three boys bemoaning the fact until Hop Sing and I were heartily sick of the word. I pointed out on more than one occasion that they too would be sick of snow by the end of the winter.

I’m not sure if I was relieved or concerned the day the snow actually arrived. We were pretty much ready for winter, provided that we continued to keep our supply of logs and kindling replenished and dry. I insisted that every day after the regular chores were done, we each spent time at the woodpile. To make things work more easily I assigned Adam and Hoss to work together and I took on the task of doing my share with Little Joe as my partner. I split the logs; he stacked them. It had been working well until today..

"Joseph," I said for the fourth time in half an hour, "You are not going anywhere until this wood is stacked so you might as well stop gazing toward the barn." My temper was becoming shorter with each stroke of the ax, the pile around me was growing and Joe was working at less than half speed.

"But Pa, they might go without me," Joe pleaded.

"I’m sure they won’t do that, Joseph." I took another swing with the ax and split a large log before looking toward the barn "They both have chores to finish too."

A few minutes later my two elder sons emerged from the barn with the toboggan. All hope of Joseph working could now be abandoned unless I took a firm stand.

"Pa, we’re heading out to the hill by the pond to try out the toboggan," Adam stated. No request, just a statement.

I felt my temper rise at his apparent assumption that he could do as he pleased. "Are your chores all finished?" I asked, suspecting that if they were, then they were done in less than perfect fashion.

"Pretty much," he replied.

I stretched my back muscles and leaned on the ax. "Pretty much!" I nodded. "Well, when they are totally finished and to my satisfaction then you might have time for a run or two."

Even at a distance I knew Adam had rolled his eyes to the heavens. Hoss just sighed and turned back toward the barn.

I gave my eldest son a meaningful look before addressing my youngest. "Joseph, even if your brothers finish you are not going anywhere until this wood is stacked so you’d better put your mind to it."

We all returned to our tasks and for the next half an hour or so all was peaceful. When Adam and Hoss next emerged from the barn, my eldest waved in my direction as if to invite me to check up on them. I rested on the ax once more and surveyed him with a less than benevolent eye.

"I’m sure I don’t need to inspect the barn. You know what will happen if I’m not satisfied, so I’m sure things are in order. You might give your little brother a hand though before you go. I wouldn’t want you leaving him behind, even if he hasn’t worked quite as hard as he might. I’m sure in future he will get his chores done on time, won’t you Joseph?"

Seeing the opportunity of some help and the prospect of a toboggan ride, Joseph nodded.

"Yes, Pa. I sure will."

I simply raised and eyebrow and headed for the barn leaving a jubilant Little Joe and two disgruntled elder brothers to sort out their own differences. I knew Joe wouldn’t get off scot-free and the words I heard as I disappeared into the barn confirmed it.

"Dang it, Little Joe, why cain’t you get your work done afore Pa makes us help?" Hoss complained.

"Because he’s lazy," Adam commented as he gathered an armful of logs.

I didn’t hear Joe’s reply but I would be willing to bet it would earn him a collar full of snow at some point on the toboggan trip.

Over the next few days chores were rushed so often that I had to speak to the boys quite severely. Suppertime had become one long discussion on the snow state, the angle of the slope, and who controlled the toboggan the best. Hop Sing and I retreated into our own thoughts for the most part.

"There’s gotta be a way to beat Adam’s time," Hoss was saying.

They had taken to timing each other in what they called race trials. I idly wondered if these were trials what the race was going to be like?

Joe bounced in his seat. "He waits longer before he swerves around the pine. I reckon that’s how he’s faster. When he does that he gets more … whaddya call it, Adam?" he appealed to his older brother.

"Momentum," Adam supplied.

Joe leaned across the table, his stew forgotten in his excitement. "Yeah, that’s it. Tomorrow I’m gonna wait until the last minute."

If I had been paying attention this is where I would have intervened, but on such small things do larger consequences rest.

The next afternoon, I was inside the house with Hop Sing when they left for the last set of trials before the big race on Saturday. Hoss had patiently explained to me that the race wasn’t really a race. I know now why my sons roll their eyes and pray when they have been caught at some piece of mischief and Hoss starts explaining to me why it wasn’t so bad after all. His literal way of speaking and then correcting himself can confuse an intelligent man and leave a lesser one wondering why he’d asked. As they left I heard them betting on the outcome, but then it wouldn’t have been a bet, bet, would it?

Hop Sing and I settled down to make a list of our stores and to check that we had everything to sustain us should the next snowstorm close the road to town. We were enjoying our second cup of coffee and talking quietly when a yell split the air and Hoss raced into the yard calling for me.

"Pa…, Pa," there was hardly a breath between his words.

I raced to the porch with Hop Sing at my heels. Hoss was still coming full tilt toward the door and skidded to halt a few inches from my nose. He was out of breath but managed to convey that Joe was hurt.

"Adam said not to move him." Hoss yelled to me as all three of us ran toward the base of the hill.

Adam bending over the small figure of his little brother, the toboggan lay beside them.

As we approached I could see that Joe was a little groggy but conscious.

Adam looked up at us. "He fell off, Pa." He stated the obvious but left out the details. Later I would learn why.

"Let Hop Sing take a look." I wanted to check for myself but Hop Sing was the better physician. I waited for his verdict.

"Small bump on head," Hop Sing pronounced. "You be fine tomorrow." He nodded at Hoss." Carry back to bed. I check."

Hoss did as asked despite Joe’s protests that he could walk and in fact could have another run on the sled. This I vetoed firmly with a stern glance at my eldest son.

Once Joe was securely tucked up in bed with Hop Sing as a guard. I tackled the other two about the accident.

"Now, what was he doing? And make it short," I said, as I saw Hoss firing up for a long explanation.

"It was his turn on the sled. He was going pretty fast and he hit the tree." Adam spoke quickly, seeing my patience was thin.

"Why was the tree in his path?" I asked, the conversation of the previous evening only a distant memory.

"Well, ya see Pa… iffn you aim for the tree then…." Hoss began.

"Aim for the tree," I exploded. "What on earth possessed him to do that?"

"I was just gonna tell ya, Pa," Hoss said with a hurt expression.

I fixed him with a glare. "Please do."

Hoss shrugged and didn’t notice his older brother’s signals, but I did. Something here was not going to please me..

"Pa it was like this…" Adam shot in.

"Let your brother tell it," I said quietly. I wasn’t about to let Adam’s clever tongue dig them out of this one. Hoss was always the straightest with a story. Did I say that? What I mean is Hoss tells what really happened while Adam tends to leave out things he thinks will add to their troubles and on occasion he’ll even bend the truth.

Adam bit his lip and waited for the inevitable.

"Go on Hoss," I encouraged.

"See iffn you aim for the tree, then swerve at the last minute the roots sorta shoot you off down the hill faster," Hoss supplied.

I nodded. "And just who worked this out?"

I saw Adam close his eyes and Hoss really didn’t need to answer.

"Oh, Adam did, …see he swerves ‘bout maybe three or four feet from the pine and he’s been getting real good times. Joe just left it a bit late."

I drew in a breath to give myself time to control my temper. I was only partly successful. "Of all the… Did it never occur to that brain of yours that your little brother would try to out do you? Did it even cross your mind that aiming at a tree with a toboggan, with doubtful steering ability, might just result in hitting what you were aiming for?"

Always one to defend himself against perceived injustice or criticism of his workmanship, my son latched on to my second remark.

"The steering works fine. It was Joe’s lack of judgement that made him hit the tree," he protested.

If I wait long enough my sons will always give me the opening I need. "And it was your lack of judgement and responsibility that led to him trying such a stupid stunt!" I roared back.

Adam wisely stayed silent this time.

"Go finish the chores you left and make sure you do Joseph’s too. The toboggan stays in the barn until you have all learned a lesson. There will be extra chores for all of you until I think you’ve understood the meaning of being responsible."

The two gave each other pained looks then seeing my anger rising again, they headed out into the yard. I went back into the bunkroom to repeat my message in a slightly softer tone to my youngest son.

The next few days were filled with sulky silences at meals and longing looks at the toboggan and the snowfield, which glistened white in the sunshine, seemingly mocking them. I watched the performance with interest and slowly they got the message that sulking would only add to the length of their deprivation. I decided to allow them to resume their winter sports in the week before Christmas but not before we had all the logs we would need.

I worked out that the toboggan would be an easier way of fetching a Christmas tree and so I laid my plans. I would ride over to the Greene ranch to thank Margaret for her invitation to her Christmas party and on the way back I’d take a look at a small stand of fir that I figured would yield a good tree. By the time I got home the chores would be done and I could surprise the boys by suggesting we fetch the tree and then enjoyed an afternoon free from chores. I smiled to myself as I anticipated their joy at being able to toboggan again.

On Friday I saddled up and headed out to visit the Greene Ranch to offer our help with the preparations for the party. The boys were hard at work on chores and I left them with instructions to see that they were all done before dark. I’d let them assume I was also going into town and wouldn’t be home much before that. They’d be pleasantly surprised when I got home and gave them an afternoon on the toboggan run.

I spent an enjoyable hour or so with Margaret before excusing myself. I rode into the yard and was surprised to see it deserted. I stabled my horse and noted that the barn was also empty and the chores had been rushed. My curiosity was aroused first and then a growing suspicion that I knew what was going on crept over me. I went into the house, no sign of the boys and Hop Sing said he hadn’t seen them since about half an hour after I had left and that was now over three hours ago. Back to the barn and my suspicions became certainty. The toboggan was gone.

I was probably more angry than I would have been in normal circumstances because of the treat I had planned, which would now be spoiled. My temper growing with every step I took into the deepening snow, I made my way to the hill above the pond. Before I could see anything, I could hear laughter. Well, I’d see that was stopped very soon. I approached from the side of the hill and made my way to the top where I waited just out of sight in the trees. I watched for a few moments, almost boiling with anger. The boys were tobogganing down the hill two at a time with the third brother throwing snowballs at the moving sled. I watched one run and then the subsequent climb to the top. They made a second, Hoss and Joe on the toboggan and Adam alongside. Hauling the toboggan back up the hill was left to Hoss on this occasion until they were half way up, then Adam took a hand. Joe simply pranced along behind making and throwing snowballs. As they worked to get the heavy sled up the hill their heads were down and they didn’t see me until I stepped out in front of them at the summit. I blocked their path and two heads came up in surprise and a third son stopped and lowered his left hand until the snowball he had been forming fell to the ground. Three sets of eyes widened and three jaws dropped.

"Pa!" Hoss stated the obvious.

Adam cleared his throat nervously and Joseph, frankly, hid behind his older brothers.

"You’re back early," Adam choked out. "We were going back to do the chores, Pa."

I raised an eyebrow and then looked at the darkening sky. "When?"

"Uh! Oh, right away, sir." Adam’s feet shifted nervously making the powdered snow fly.

I stayed quiet for a few moments, allowing them to consider the situation. All three became increasingly uncomfortable with the silence. Finally, I broke the tension. "What did I tell you before I left?" I directed my comment at my eldest son.

"To finish our chores before dark, sir." Adam replied.

I almost smiled at his use of ‘sir’ it wasn’t often he was in a situation where he felt he needed to get on my good side.

"It ain’t dark yet, Pa." Hoss offered.

I glanced at Joseph who had stayed in the background, no doubt hoping that any anger would only be directed toward his older brothers. I also sensed Adam’s wish that Hoss would keep quiet. While Adam would try to mitigate the offence any help from his brother invariably led to me finding out more than my eldest had intended I should know.

I switched my attention to Hoss who stepped back when our eyes met.

"I can see that, young man. What else did I say?"

This time Hoss had no answer. He looked helplessly at Adam while Joe also turned his face up to look at his brother. I waited for an answer, my expression making it clear that no more would be said until I got one and one I was prepared to accept.

Adam shuffled his feet. "You forbade us to use the toboggan," he muttered.

"Oh, so you do remember?" All three sons looked worried. "There is no excuse for you being here, none."

Three pairs of eyes suddenly found boots very interesting.

"Look at me, when I’m talking to you," I reminded them and they jerked their heads up like puppets on a string. "I thought you were all old enough to know better than to deliberately disobey me. I am disappointed in you."

Joseph’s face was pale and worried. Hoss couldn’t look at me and Adam’s expression was one of concern and embarrassment.

"You will go back now and do your chores and I expect to see the woodpile grow by at least another layer. There will be no supper until it has. Is that understood?"

Three heads nodded and three contrite voices said "Yes, sir."

"May we go now, sir?" Adam asked politely, his hand reaching down for the toboggan rope.

"Yes, you may go but that stays with me." I pointed at the sled.

I remained at the top of the hill while the three trudged back to the yard to do chores. It was cold up here but the fresh air was invigorating. I intended to check out the pond to see if we could cut any ice, once I was sure they had gone directly back to the yard. I bent down to retrieve the rope to tow the toboggan behind my horse. Once the rope was in my hand an idea came to me. I tied my horse to a nearby branch and inspected the toboggan. The idea became an irresistible urge. I looked all around, my movements furtive but excited. "Why not?" said a twelve year old boy inside me. "There’s no one here to see."

"Because you just got through telling your sons that work comes first," my adult conscience answered.

Seconds later the scenery was flying past and the wind was freezing my nose. It was exhilarating.

The End