Life Isn’t Always Fair

by jfclover

Nothing fuels a man’s mind faster than screams in the dead of night.  No one wakes from a sound sleep quicker than hearing the worst words he can imagine.

“Fire!  Fire!”

No one sleeps harder than I do, but when Adam’s screams fill the upstairs rooms, I’m out of bed and grabbing the work clothes I’d thrown on the floor the night before.  Adam bangs on every bedroom door, and after pulling on both boots, I run out into the hallway and nearly collide with my brother, Hoss.  Pa shows up next, and the four of us fly down the stairs and out the front door.

Flames nip at the barn doors, and the front window is illuminated with a buttery glow that tells anyone with a brain that rescuing the stock is a lost cause.  But when I charge forward, Pa screams, “No, Joseph.  Don’t you dare!”

Because I’m determined to get my horse away from the flames, I will save the others if I can, but Cooch comes first.  He’s a part of me.  I’m nothing without the paint.  Pa knows that, and he knows I can’t let the animal burn to death for something that might’ve been my fault.

*~*~*

I meet my friends at the Bucket of Blood.  It’s Saturday night, and my old maid aunts are too tired to go with me, so I ride in alone and return home after dark.  Everyone’s in bed, and I’m the last man inside the barn.  Had I left a lamp burning?  Did I drink too much to know any better?

I turn back toward my father.  “I’m sorry, Pa.” 

Though I shield my face with my right arm, the smoke is overwhelming, but I rush through the initial wall of flames and head for Cooch.  Pa’s angry voice echoes through the yard until the roar of the fire drowns him out.  Smoke fills my lungs as I rush inside Cooch’s stall,  loosen the rope from the iron ring, and try to coax him backward. 

“Let’s go!”

I pull, but the animal is wide-eyed and frantic.  He’s a smart horse, though, and for a moment, I think he trusts me enough to see him through, but when he rears and nearly knocks me off my feet, the other mounts sing out like a bunch of wartime renegades, but I can only save one at a time.  I pull with all my might.

“Come on, damn it!”

With everything I have, I yank the rope, but Cochise is adamant.  He isn’t crossing the barn with a towering wall of flames between us and the double doors.  When I see a crop hanging on a nearby post, I grab the leather grip and swing-mount onto my horse.   I’ve never whipped him before, but I’m desperate, and it does the trick. Cooch runs through the flames and out the open doors to safety.

Though the smoke is nearly as thick outside as in, I lead the animal to the trough where Pa and my brothers are hauling bucket after bucket of water and tossing it with all their might.

When I’m sure my mount is safe, I run back inside for the others.  This time, Hoss follows.  He knows I can’t save all three by myself, and I’m grateful for my brother’s help.  The smoke is thicker now than before, and I can’t see a foot in front of my face, but Hoss doesn’t need to see.  Instinct takes over, and he has Buck and Chubby running through the barn doors before I can get Sport to back out of his stall. 

“Hurry up, Joseph.  The barn’s about to go.”

“I’m coming.  I’m coming.”

But my voice is silent, and what’s worse, my legs won’t obey my commands.  My body betrays me in so many ways that I can’t begin to count.  My head swims, and my chest burns with a tightness I’ve never felt before.  My breathing becomes strained, and before I can call out or signal for Hoss, I drop to my knees and clench a handful of fragmented straw that Sport trampled during his bout of hysteria.

Even though I try to walk my fingerstips up the half-wall where Adam stores his saddle and blanket, my hand tingles as though it’s just woken up from a year-long sleep.  And then a numbness sets in, and nothing works like it should.

My prickly right arm falls to the barn floor.  My attempt at trying to escape the smoke and flames becomes such a fruitless effort that I give up the thought of leaving.  I can’t walk, and I don’t even try to crawl.  I end up curling into a tight ball on the remaining bits of straw.

*~*~*

Adam thinks it’s a miracle that I’ve lived this long.  He says I take too many risks, that I’m a reckless human being, and that I must have a special angel watching over me.  Maybe he’s right, but not this time.  My body won’t cooperate.  I can’t make the words in my head move through me and command my arms and legs to react.  Perhaps my brother’s prediction of an early death will come true.  My luck isn’t going to hold out this time. 

But when all seems lost, and the wooden beams begin to crack and fall, strong arms slide under my shoulders and legs and lift me from the straw floor.  Before I have time to feel grateful about my uncanny luck, I’m cradled tight against my brother’s broad chest.  It isn’t the first time he’s saved my life, and maybe it won’t be the last. 

Whether Hoss does it for me or whether he only wants to prove Adam wrong, I’m grateful to have the big man for a brother.  Our father will be grateful too, but Hoss will never get the credit he deserves.  He’s my hero in every sense of the word, but I’ll be the one who’s fussed over until I’m up and around again.  Life isn’t always fair.

The End 

2 – 2026