The Late Night Visitor

by Mars

 

 

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 late a night and everyone in the Barkley house was already in bed. Well, not everyone. Victoria was sitting alone by the fireplace in the living room. There was no light in the large room, but the one provided by the fire. A casual look at her wouldn't reveal much, as for now she was slightly bent forward, staring at something in her hands.

 

Unless one stood right by her side, her mumbling would stay unheard. So let's get closer, shall we?

 

"Told you..... no... warned you...." are a few words one can recognize. It sounds like she's munching something.... "... ruin us soon... put a stop to it.... sleepless nights....." What is she mumbling about???

 

Oops. Now Victoria leans back against the couch, holding a small object in her hand. Looks like a cigar... She smiles at her late husband Thomas, always so un-smiling on that wall over the mantle. Wait... she's not really smiling: it rather looks like a smirk. Now Victoria brings the small object to her mouth and aims at her painted-husband.

 

ZOOOOP — TOC

 

A small wad of papier-mache just hit Thomas on the forehead and starts to slowly slide down over the painting. "Ah... if only you were here for real, I could yell at you..."

 

Seemingly pleased at her aiming, Victoria tears another small piece of paper and puts it in her mouth. "... doctor bills..." She munches, "...medicine... clothes..."

 

ZOOOOP — TOC

 

Got Thomas in the eye. "Bull's eye!" Victoria laughs, ready to repeat the process.

 

But a scratching sound from outside the French doors stops her in her quality-time. Armed with the straw and the wad of paper in her mouth, she stands and approaches the doors. Picking outside, she cannot see anything in the darkness. Not in a mood to fool around, she opens the doors.

 

"Who's there?" she asks.

 

She's not afraid a bit. Soon to be ruined by the medical bills thanks to her sons, she's sure nothing can be worst than the incoming disgrace she's facing.

 

She waits a few seconds, but she can't see anyone and no one answers. Growing impatient quite fast, she announced, "Look, tell me who you are and what you want. But be warned: I'm armed." She has to grin at the warning, holding the straw like it was a knife.

 

Hearing that scratching sound again, she steps outside. "That's it!" she yells. "You show yourself right now!" she orders. After a second, she has an afterthought, "But if you are sick or wounded.... GO AWAY!"

 

After a minute or so, the scratching sound echoes around and a dark silhouette slowly approaches the house...

 

**********

 

"Oh you," grumbled Victoria, "If you step on my flowers, you'll regret it."

 

The dark silhouette approached a bit more then stopped a few feet away. Victoria couldn't see the face of the person, which only increased her bad mood.

 

"Will you tell me your name?" she seethed. Still, no answer from the stranger. "Look," she sighed, shifting into her lecture-mode. "We already got the mad neighbor and the jealous one. One dead poet, a few dead forgotten enemies or friends...We had a lot of convicts on the loose to deal with, not mentioning sheltering one.. thanks to Jarrod.... We got our Mexican general on the run. Oh, think of it...we also had a civil war mad general.. thanks to Nick... Got an ex-prisoner's camp warden, thanks to Heath... There was this fake preacher sticking around, thanks to Audra... Oh, that girl will be the death of me!"

 

Victoria stops to breath, then continue. "And as if it wasn't enough, we got droughts, floods, antrax and mildew." She shook her head, "I'm sure I forgot a few of them... Did I mention the robberies, arsons, blackmails and more ransoms than I care to remember?"

 

The scratching sound echoed in the night, as if the stranger wanted to make her get to the point. She cleared her throat, "So, if you fit any of these people or come to announce any of these calamities, turn around and walk away. I had my share, thank you."

 

Victoria stood, straw in hand and hands on her hips. "So?" she pressed on.

 

After a long moment, a low masculine voice answered her. "I........"

 

"So you aren't mute, good. Now state your business," she groaned, impatient.

 

"I........."

 

"Sure, fine. I got that part already. You think I'm a tart or something?"

 

"I.... I came for you," explained the cavernous voice.

 

Victoria laughed. "Well, Mister, you came too late. I already got kidnapped a few times, trapped in many places, got in jail and even the loony house. So what else do you offer?" she retorted with sarcasm.

 

"Your time is up, Victoria Barkley. You must come with me."

 

"Listen to me, mister. YOUR time is up. Why don't you try the Mortons?" On that, without further words, Victoria slammed the French doors in the stranger's unseen face.

 

Using some expletives she heard Nick use some times, Victoria returned to her previous quality-time activity: thomas-shooting. She sat on the couch, and prepared her ammunitions. For a moment, she focused on hitting the painting, until...

 

"Your time is up, Victoria Barkley. You must come with me."

 

Victoria jumped on her feet and turned around, looking at...................... DEATH!

 

"Your time is up, Victoria Barkley. You must come with me."

 

"All right! Stop it already!" Se rolled her eyes. Stepping forward, facing Death, Victoria met the skeleton figure. "He sent you, right?" she whispered.

 

Of course, a skeleton face can hardly raise an eyebrow, but something succeeded at showing perplexity in Death's attitude.

 

"He," she pointed behind her back at the Thomas-target over the mantle.

 

Death shook its head, no. "You must come..." Death repeated.

 

"What's the hurry? You waited for over 50 years, can't wait twenty more minutes?" spat Victoria.

 

Again, Death shook its head, no. Without a word, Death turned on its heel (heel???)... huh... anyway, turned around, ready to leave. "Follow me." came the cavernous voice.

 

Death hadn't walked one step that Victoria stood in front, blocking its way. "Where have you learned you manners, mister?" she seethed, staring at the scythe in Death's hands. "Look!" she ordered, pointing at the floor. "Who's going to fix these scratches you just made with that stupid archaic farmer tool of yours?"

 

Death lowered its head, probably looking at the damaged wooden floor (who knows for sure, if an eyeless face can see?).

 

"So? What do you have to say, old man?" she demanded with that tone that would even make Prince Oxford answer her.

 

"I....... This is not mine to fix. I am Death. I came for you, Victoria Barkley. You must..."

 

"Oh, no! This won't work with me. Not in [i]my[/i] house!" She grabbed the scythe from Death's hands, brandishing it before the skeleton figure. "You'll have to pay for the damage. Jarrod will make sure that you won't get away with it!"

 

Death stood there, and would probably had blinked if it had eyes.

 

"Ciego's getting old. You could help him take care of the garden. That stupid tool might be useful there. And if not, I'm sure Nick will find you something to do." Victoria grinned, "After all, this is a working ranch!"

 

Death stepped forward, "Enough. Come with me." Death would probably had frowned... ah ok, you got it...

 

Victoria relaxed, not a bit afraid. "Look. There's a lot of people around. Why don't you go find yourself someone else? I'm rather busy, you know."

 

Death stopped its forward motion. "I already took everyone that needed to come. Now it is your turn, Victoria Barkley."

 

Victoria sighed. "The Barkley luck had to stop somewhere, huh," she grumbled to herself. And out loud, "You know... Despite the fact that you came in my house uninvited, which is a certain mark of lack of manners, and that you ruined my floor with that thing of yours, I do not hate you. I even offered you a job on our ranch. Now, I must say that if I refuse to follow you, it's simply because I wouldn't do that to you."

 

Death tilted its head, fully aware that any facial expression would be missed (ahah, got you there!).

 

Victoria turned on her heels (works for her), and headed for the large staircase, scythe in hands. "Follow me," she grinned, not waiting to see if Death would indeed follow her.

 

She climbed up the stairs, feeling that the skeleton figure was following her. She headed straight for Audra's bedroom. Slowly opening the door, she pointed at her daughter sound asleep in bed.

 

"Without me, she'll not only poison the whole family with her cooking, but probably all the ranch hands as well. And that, mister, is not counting the town's people attending the Fair and tasting her pickles. Right now, she has anthrax and a broken heart."

 

Victoria stared at the eyeless face, smirking. 1-0 she thought. She closed the door then proceeded towards Jarrod's bedroom. Again she opened the door, nodding at her eldest son sound asleep.

 

"Without me, Jarrod wouldn't have anyone to confide in. He'll get depressed. Do I need to remind you that a depressed attorney is a sure death-sentence for the defendant?" She smirked at the mention of death. "But I'm sure you know that."

 

She closed the door to Jarrod's bedroom and, scythe still in hand, walked towards Nick's bedroom. Again she slowly opened the door. Nick was asleep (really) in bed.

 

"Before you argue about Nick's ability to save lives, I'll remind you of all the times he saved Heath and... sadly enough, how many times he will in the future. Right now, he's having rabies and a broken back." She paused, "No need to say that, without me, he'll die."

 

Proud of her little tour of the bedrooms and making her point, she finished with Heath's bedroom. Peaking inside the silent room, she watched Death as it stared at the prone body of the blond Barkley on the bed.

 

"I'm sure you came a few times for him, huh?"

 

Death slowly nodded and... sighed.

 

"Half the time, Nick saved his life. Otherwise, I did. Right now, he's suffering a few broken ribs, some slashing, a head injury and a burnt leg. Of course, without me, he'll die."

 

Heath trashed in his bed. Fighting the fever, he opened his eyes and stared at Victoria holding the scythe. "Mother... no... I promise... I'll.... I'll be... careful... please... no... kill me..."

 

Victoria sighed. "Get back to sleep... er, unconsciousness, Heath. I'm a bit busy right now."

 

On that, Victoria closed the door, refraining to laugh. "Let's get downstairs."

 

Death followed obediently, probably wondering about what it just saw (!) and heard (!) (try that without eyes and ears!).

 

Victoria sat back down on the couch, putting the scythe down on the floor. She stayed silent.

 

After a long moment, Death sighed. "Explain."

 

"Sure. I forgot you have no brain in that skull," snickered Victoria.

 

Death groaned. She ignored it.

 

"You see, if I follow you... And let me tell you, I sure wish I could! I'm pretty sick of caring over all of them!" She paused, in order to make her speech more dramatic. "But if I do, you will hate me for it."

 

"Explain now or come with me." Death grabbed its scythe, careful to not scratch the floor.

 

"Let' say I go with you. Audra, Jarrod, Nick, Heath, all the ranch hands and a lot of town's people will perish. Without my patronage, I guess a few Modocs and orphans will as well. Now...." She paused, "That would make a lot of work for you, no?"

 

Death didn't move. But then, after a moment, slowly nodded. She had a point.

 

"And... Not that I want to be rude to you... But you sure look like someone needing some rest. I'd also suggest a good meal and some sun."

 

Death didn't reply. Victoria stood, smiling at the skeleton figure. "Why, you could stay here for a few... Have some rest. Audra will be delighted to fix you some good meals. Then you could add some muscles on ... by working with Nick and Heath. And if you don't like it, you could just hang around with Jarrod and choose your [i]clients[/i] from his cases... You two would make such a great team...."

 

In a blink of an eye, Death was running out of the Barkley house, careful to hold its scythe away from the floor.

 

Victoria sat back down and took the straw she had left on the coffee table. Sticking her tongue at her painted-Thomas-target, she laughed. "Don't you try that again, you hear me?"

 

ZOOOOP — TOC

 

 

The End!!!!!!