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."

THE END