Who Spake by the Prophets
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It was an exciting morning at the Ponderosa, for the third edition of Bonanza
Gold had just been delivered by Doctor Paul Martin. The dedicated medic had
given long years of devoted service to various members of the Cartwright family
(most notably Joe, who could charitably be described as prone to indulging in
unfortunate accidents). However, there was one small, but vital problem: no
money was ever seen to change hands for all his devoted ministrations.
Understandably, Paul was rather miffed about this, for his medical skills had
often seen Joe arise, like Lazarus, to prowl the Ponderosa unfettered.
Nevertheless, despite his medical miracles, poor Paul was now knocking at the
very doors of penury.
“Though I heal with the skills of Hippocrates and have not money, it availeth me
naught!” Paul whimpered pathetically, as the bailiffs seized his supplies of
laudanum and even his examining couch. In desperate need of some ready cash, he
had to resort to an early morning paper round. Sceptical readers are advised to
watch A Passion for Justice, where the Territorial Enterprise is indeed
delivered in time for breakfast.
Naturally, as the Patriarch of the Ponderosa, Ben sat at the head of the table,
surveying the proceedings like a modern-day Jehovah and surveying the magazine
with great interest.
“Fascinating!” he pronounced, lingering on the full page picture of himself for
just a gnat’s crotchet. “A most interesting read. I never realised how much hard
work our laundry caused Hop Sing!”
His sons exchanged somewhat sceptical looks. “I thought it was established,
right from the start, in A Rose for Lotta, that the laundry was subcontracted to
Number Three Cousin?” the blonde remarked innocently.
Adam nodded eagerly: as far as he could see, Hop Sing spent hours sculling up
and down the Truckee River singing the Eton Boating Song, before returning home
to whip up the evening meal. It was strange that so few people had ever picked
up on the fact that the faithful retainer spoke with a perfect English accent…
“Do you think Andy has access to the Bible?” the redhead asked, inadvertently
unleashing a torrent of comments across the breakfast table. As no peaceful,
uninterrupted breakfast scenes had ever been committed to celluloid, this was
pretty much par for the course.
“Don’t be so blasphemous!” Ben spluttered. Hoss grabbed the toast rack and
hauled it out of range, while Joe shielded the Gentleman’s Relish with his hand.
The blonde regarded her sister gravely. “I don’t think so,” she said with
gravitas. “In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if it even exists.”
Ben went deathly pale and clutched his heart. She’d seemed like such a sweet
girl and she wore a cross too! Impervious to his distress, the blonde dipped a
toast soldier into a soft boiled egg and handed it to her pet bear, Paw, who
slurped it up adoringly.
“After all, in A Rose for Lotta, it’s clearly established that Ben had three
different wives. And Joe refers to his mother as Felice.”
“He’s got very clear diction!” the redhead interjected.
“Yet, 23 episodes later, in The Stranger, she’s become Marie!”
“I don’t see what Andy has to do with that,” Ben said.
The redhead favoured him with an indulgent smile. “You see, Andy wrote this
letter to Bonanza Gold, explaining that Joe’s mother was called Felice
originally. But when Felicia Farr was cast, they decided it was too much of a
co-incidence and rechristened her Marie,”
“What?!?!” Ben’s lung power was legendary. It was only a pity that alternative
power sources were not taken seriously, for Ben could easily power at least 10
wind generators all by himself. Then he remembered that, although Marie, My Love
was not screened until season 4, Andy worked for Bonanza Enterprises and surely
must know… Although, it was a trifle disconcerting to think he had called his
wife the wrong name for over 20 years…
“Did you ever ask the Creator?” Naturally, it was the redhead who asked this.
Her sister was busy trying to persuade Paw to finish his cod liver oil. Not
surprisingly, the little bear was indulging in a major strop, hoping to avoid
having to take it.
Ben glanced involuntarily at the ceiling and the redhead shook her vibrant
tresses. “No, no,” she chided. “Not that one! The person who created all this.”
She gestured grandly round the room, somehow managing to encompass all the
outdoors, too. Adam wondered how she did that.
“You can’t disturb the Creator to ask him trivial things like that,” Ben
protested. “He’s far too busy…creating,” he finished lamely.
“The Creator was very inspired,” Adam said. “I had a lovely line in The Savage
about the Garden of Eden.” He sighed reminiscently. “’Now I know why my parents
gave me my name’,” he quoted. “’It was because I belong here in the Garden of
Eden with you, Ruth.’” He wasn’t sure if that sounded right or not, so hastily
added, “Or something like that.”
Total silence greeted this. The redhead glanced around as though waiting for
something. “Where’s the ballet music that went along with that awful hammy
line?” she asked. “Didn’t you ever want to break into a passionate pas de deux
with Ruth?”
“I had an injured leg,” Adam answered, with dignity. He had thought he’d done
well to say the line with a straight face, for everyone round about looked as
though they were fighting not to laugh.
“You were very God-fearing in the opening season, weren’t you?” the blonde asked
Ben. “But we didn’t see you in church very often, did we?” She smiled at him as
he tried to think of a suitable answer. “You handed down proclamations from on
high.”
“There is one thing that worries me,” said the redhead. She glanced at Joe. “Why
is Marie not lying in consecrated ground? She was a Catholic, wasn’t she? And
why aren’t you raising Joe in his mother’s faith?”
“Well, you see...” Ben began, but stopped again. He had no idea why Marie wasn’t
lying in consecrated ground. He hoped she wouldn’t come back to haunt him. And
it hadn’t occurred to him that he should be raising Joe in his mother’s faith.
How he wished these girls wouldn’t keep noticing these things, and how he wished
he had someone to ask.
“Now do you see why the bible would be so helpful?” asked the redhead. “We
always had to make up bibles in college for every thing we did. It was good
exercise.” She was, however, quite thankful that some of the ideas she’d had for
TV shows were decently lost in the mists of time.
"It might even be able to pinpoint where the bunkhouse actually is!" Hoss
agreed. He was fed up with trying to locate a ranch hand or two, only to
discover that the bunkhouse had done one of its disappearing tricks. They had
all shuddered with fear and trepidation when Adam had been knocked unconscious
in Showdown. The risks of any possible concussion were far outweighed by the
danger of being trapped in the bunkhouse when it perambulated around the
Ponderosa.
"There's quite a lot of religious symbolism associated with the show, isn't
there?" the blonde observed. "Fans talk about accepted facts as 'canon' and
there's even the Bonanza Credo, written by the Creator himself."
"Even our names are from the Bible!" Adam said, quite forgetting that "Hoss"
failed to appear anywhere in the Good Book. "As the first son, it's entirely
appropriate that I was christened Adam!"
Joe gave a loving glance towards his father. "And everybody knows that Joseph
was his father's favourite son, the son of his old age."
"And his brothers gave poor Joseph a really hard time!" the redhead added. "They
even sold him!"
Hoss regarded the youngest Cartwright critically. "I don't think we could find
anyone to sell you to, Shortshanks! You're just too plum puny!"
"I don't have a favourite son!" Ben protested.
Adam decided to pour a little oil on troubled waters "In the beginning, David
Dortort created Bonanza and the Ponderosa!" he intoned solemnly. "And he said,
Let there be Cartwrights: and there were Cartwrights."
Silence fell for a moment. "The theme continued, didn't it?" ventured the
blonde. "Even some of the episode titles were biblical quotes: just think of My
Brother's Keeper or Feet of Clay."
“It didn’ continue with me,” Hoss said, grumpily. “How come I’s the only one who
don’ get a biblical name?” This sad fact had rankled with Hoss for a long time.
“Even Erik ain’t a biblical name,” he complained.
“Perhaps its some sort of Scandinavian legend,” said the redhead soothingly. “Or
perhaps it’s a corruption of Esau?” She thought of the bible passage which told
them Esau was a hairy man, and Hoss certainly was hairy!
“Well, as you said, we are a God-fearing family,” Ben explained. “We show the
world the best a family can be. Our morals set examples to everyone who watched
the show. Family love and universal brotherhood. What more could a show want?”
Adam chimed in, "We give people hope. They see that love and perseverance can
overcome the greatest of obstacles. Why, we've even had a couple of minor
miracles: The Horsebreaker walked again and Joe recovered his eyesight in The
Stillness Within."
"I had to find the still, small voice of calm within me first," Joe said
quietly.
"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained
angels unawares," the blonde quoted, from the Book of Hebrews. "A good maxim, I
think."
Joe's face brightened. "Angels! I've always been really interested in angels! Do
you think I'll be an angel one day?"
"An angel!" Adam snorted. "You'd try the patience of a saint! It'd be an awfully
long highway to heaven for you, my boy."
The Giggly Sisters had the strangest feeling that Joe would make a perfectly
divine Angel…
The End
Giggly Sisters Productions
July 2003