TO Be Or Not To Be
Joe Cartwright heard the shouting and swearing before he ever saw the garishly painted wagon. Riding toward the top of a hill on the short-cut to north pasture, Joe could hear the voices. One was shouting instructions while another seemed to be swearing in frustration at trying to follow the orders. Joe pulled his pinto to a halt at the top of the hill and looked down to see what all the commotion was about.
A box wagon – the kind used by traveling shows – was sitting in the middle of the road to Virginia City. The wagon was painted bright red, with yellow curlicues sprinkled across the crimson. Bright blue letters proclaimed the wagon to belong to “Harris and Company”. The wheels of the wagon were painted bright yellow also. Three of the wheels were in place, but the fourth wheel was missing from the wagon, causing it to tilt severely to one side. Three men stood near the wagon, pointing at the wagon as well as each other. Joe figured the missing wheel was reason for all the commotion.
Chucking his horse forward, Joe started down the hill. He could see the men gesturing and could hear their increasing loud voices. Two of the men seemed to be arguing over how to get the wheel back on the wagon, while the third stood a little ways off, holding the offending wheel. The three men were one of the oddest groups Joe could ever remember seeing. One looked to be about 40, wearing loud tan and brown checked pants and a small bowler hat which was pushed back on his head. A pair of bright red suspenders looped over the man’s white shirt, holding up the pants that were almost as garish as the wagon. The second man was tall, well over six feet, but as thin as the proverbial bean pole. Joe doubted if the man weighed over a hundred pounds. The man holding the wheel was as short as the other man was tall. His head barely cleared the top of the wheel. As Joe rode toward the wagon, he wondered about the strange group.
“Hello,” shouted Joe as he neared the wagon. “Can you fellows use some help?”
The man in the checked pants turned in surprise. He had been so busy shouting orders that he hadn’t noticed Joe’s approach. Now, as he saw the well-built cowboy perched on the pinto, his face broke into a smile. “Ah, a knight, come to rescue us from our peril,” said the man theatrically. “Indeed you can be of help, young man. As you can see, we are temporarily stranded by the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”
Amused by the man’s words, Joe smiled. “I’m not sure about slings and arrows,” Joe replied as he dismounted, “but it looks like you lost a wheel.”
“Yes, we have,” acknowledged the man, agreeing with Joe’s practical assessment of the situation. “Unfortunately, we have found that no combination of the two of us are strong enough to lift the wagon while the third slips the wheel back on. Perhaps you would be good enough to lend us some of your muscles to rectify the situation.”
Smiling at the man’s flowery prose, Joe walked closer to the wagon. He wasn’t surprised that the men were having difficulty. The one in the checked pants looked to have more flab than muscle on his body, and the tall man seemed to have barely enough flesh to cover his bones. The small man was evenly proportioned for his size but his build would have been considered average on even a normal sized individual.
Kneeling by the wagon, Joe inspected the axle. “Doesn’t look like there are any cracks or breaks in the axle,” he commented as he looked under the wagon. “The wheel must have come loose.”
“Yes, yes, it did,” agreed the man in the checked pants. He looked pointedly toward the tall man. “It was supposed to have been tightened before we left Cedar Flats, but somebody forgot to take care of it.” The tall man looked toward the sky, suddenly finding a fascination with the clouds over his head.
“If we can lift the axle and get the wheel back on, you should be in good shape,” Joe advised, standing and brushing the dirt off the knees of his pants. “I don’t suppose you have a wheel jack?”
“Ah, no,” answered the man in the checked pants regretfully.
“Didn’t think so,” Joe replied with a nod. He pulled on the axle a bit, testing the weight of the wagon. He could tell the wagon was heavy, very heavy. “I don’t know if we can lift the wagon even with the three of us,” he said doubtfully. “We might have to unload it.”
“Could we give it a try?” suggested the man in the checked paints. “Unloading the wagon and then loading it back up again will take us all day. I want to try to get to Virginia City by dark.”
“Sure, we can try,” Joe agreed with a shrug. He turned to the small man holding the wheel. “We may not be able to hold up the axle for very long, so as soon as we get it off the ground, you slip the wheel on.” The small man nodded.
“All right,” said Joe turning back to the other two men. “Let’s give it a try.” The three men grabbed the axle, Joe on the left side and the other two on the right. Joe took a firm grip on the middle of the axle as the other two wrapped their hands around the shaft on either side of his. Joe took a deep breath and tightened his grip. “Now, lift!” he ordered.
Three backs strained with efforts as three sets of arms pulled the axle from the ground. The wagon groaned as the axle rose slowly from the dust. Joe turned his head to shout at the small man, but saw the man was already moving the wheel toward the wagon. The axle wasn’t quite high enough off the ground for the man to slip on the wheel. Joe took another deep breath and pulled harder on the wooden shaft in his hands. The axle rose another few inches. Joe could see the wheel coming closer, but the hole in the center was still an inch or two higher the axle. Joe closed his eyes and pulled once more, his face grimacing with the effort. He heard, rather than saw, the wheel snap into place.
Blowing out a puff of air, Joe dropped his hands from the axle, letting his arms dangle for a minute at his side. He bent over a bit and took several deep breaths, bringing his breathing back to normal after the exertion of lifting the wagon. Then he straightened and looked across the wheel.
The tall man was breathing heavily also, his face red and sweaty. The man in the checked pants, however, looked as fresh as when Joe rode up. Joe suspected that he hadn’t done much lifting.
“Looks like you’re all set,” announced Joe with a nod toward the wheel. “Just put the wheel nut on and make sure it’s tight. You should get to Virginia City without any more problems.”
“Thank you, thank you, young man,” said the man in the checked pants. His eyes suddenly darted about nervously. “I, ah, I don’t have anything with which to pay your for your services….”
Joe waved off the payment. “No payment needed. I’m just glad I could help.”
The man seemed relieved. “We appreciate your help, Mr…Mr…
“Cartwright,” supplied Joe. “Joe Cartwright.”
The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Cartwright? Any relation to Ben Cartwright of the Ponderosa?”
“My father,” acknowledged Joe with a brief nod.
A thoughtful look crossed the man’s face. “We must do something to repay you,” he said forcefully. “A kind gesture shouldn’t go unrewarded.”
“Not necessary,” repeated Joe.
“You must come to our show when we get set up in Virginia City,” urged the man. “Perhaps our small entertainment will amuse you.”
Glancing at the letters on the wagon, Joe asked, “Harris and Company? Are you Harris?”
“Yes, indeed,” replied the man with a bit of a bow. “Bert Harris, at your service.”
“What kind of show do you do?” Joe asked curiously.
“We try to entertain the whole family,” answered Harris. He pointed to the small man. “Bob here does a puppet show which the children and even some adults enjoy.” Cocking his head toward the tall man, Harris continued, “Frank does the comedy – funny dances and silly walks. I do the singing and the patter.”
“The patter?” asked Joe with a bit of a frown. “What’s that?”
“I tell the folks about Harris’ Fine Tonic,” Harris explained. “Guaranteed to cure what ails you. Gives your energy if you’re tied and helps you sleep if you need it. Calms the nerves and brightens the outlook. And all for just fifty cents a bottle.”
Oh,” said Joe, his face clearing as understanding dawned. “A medicine show. Well, thanks anyhow, but I don’t think….”
“You haven’t met the star of our show,” interrupted Harris. He turned and walked around end of the wagon. “Beth! Beth,” called Harris around the back of the wagon. “Come here, girl. We’ve got the wagon fixed.”
Taking a step toward the end of the wagon, Joe looked in the direction at which Harris was shouting. He saw a girl sitting under a tree a short distance away, reading and apparently totally uninterested in the activities on the road.
“Beth!” Harris shouted again. “We’re ready to go!”
This time the girl looked up. She closed the book, marking her place with a finger and slowly got to her feet. Joe watched her rise gracefully, and he wondered what kind of a person would show such a lack of concern for her fellow travelers and their plight. But as the girl walked slowly toward the wagon, Joe’s criticism faded from his mind.
The girl was tall, with thick black hair that hung loosely to her shoulders. She was wearing a long-sleeved white blouse with the collar turned up. The blouse hugged her ample breasts, and was tucked into the waistband of a dark blue skirt which framed her slim waist and hips. The girl moved with grace and ease, almost gliding rather than walking toward the wagon.
As she drew closer, Joe could see her face -- a perfect oval with a small nose and thick lips. But it was her eyes that fascinated Joe. Joe had never seen such blue eyes. They were bluer than the water in Lake Tahoe and looked just as deep. Framed by dark lashes, her eyes drew Joe’s gaze like a magnet.
As the girl walked up to the wagon, she gave Joe a look that was full of both curiosity and caution.
“Beth, my dear,” said Harris. “This is Joe Cartwright. He was kind of enough to help us repair the wagon.”
The girl looked boldly at Joe, making a frank assessment of the young cowboy who stood in front of her. Apparently pleased with what she saw, the girl smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Cartwright,” Beth said in a gracious voice.
“Please, call me, Joe,” Joe replied, his eyes never leaving the girls face. Beth bowed her head a bit in acknowledgment.
“Beth is a pretty name,” added Joe. He immediately kicked himself mentally for such an inane comment. Joe was proud of his ability to charm the ladies, but with this girl, he suddenly found himself babbling like an idiot.
“I like it,” noted Beth with an amused smile.
“What do you do in the show?” asked Joe, desperately trying to get his suddenly mushy brain to come up with an intelligent question.
“I dance a bit,” answered Beth vaguely.
“Beth is a fine dancer,” Bert explained. “The star of our show. Dances like an angel, moving with the grace of a deer. She does the dance of Salome, draped in veils and guaranteed to grab your undivided attention.”
“She already has my undivided attention,” Joe admitted, giving Beth his most winning smile.
“Bert exaggerates,” said Beth, smiling back at Joe. “I’m not really that good of a dancer.”
“I guess I’ll just have to come and see for myself,” Joe countered, his smile widening.
“Joe’s father is Ben Cartwright,” said Bert in a sly voice. “Owner of the Ponderosa, the biggest ranch in Nevada.”
“How nice for Joe,” replied Beth, her eyes twinkling as her smile seemed to brighten.
“I suggested we pay him for his help by inviting him to our show,” continued Bert.
“Yes, that would be nice,” Beth agreed with a nod. “I hope you will come. I think I might dance exceptionally well if I knew you were in the audience.”
“When do you open?” asked Joe in an eager voice, his eyes still riveted on Beth’s blue eyes.
“Tomorrow night,” Bert told the young cowboy. “We’ve rented a building on the edge of town. An old freight terminal, I believe. Our show starts at seven.”
“I’ll be there,” promised Joe. He stared at the attractive girl, seemingly unable to pull himself away from her presence. “Could I take you to dinner after the show?” Joe asked Beth in a hopeful voice.
A strange look crossed Beth’s face and she suddenly lowered her eyes. “I don’t know,” she answered in a voice that sounded almost frightened. “I’m not sure that’s a wise idea.”
“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly safe with young Mr. Cartwright,” urged Bert.
“Absolutely,” agreed Joe in a solemn voice. “You can ask anyone in Virginia City. I’m known as a perfect gentleman.”
Looking up at the handsome young man, Beth’s smile returned. “I’m sure I could get an opinion from a number of young ladies in Virginia City,” she teased.
“Well, maybe a few,” Joe admitted with a wry grin. “How about it? Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Perhaps,” said Beth in a reluctant voice. “Come by the wagon after the show. I’ll let you know.”
“Tomorrow night after the show,” acknowledged Joe with a nod. He stared at the girl for a moment longer. “Well, um, I better be getting back to work,” he added.
“Thank you again for your help, young man, “ said Harris, sticking out his hand. Joe took the offered hand and shook it briefly. He turned to take one last look at Beth. Joe put his hand to his hat brim and tugged on it. The girl smiled and cocked her head a bit in reply.
After walking over to his horse, Joe vaulted into the saddle. “See you tomorrow night,” he called as he turned his horse. His words were said to the group, but his eyes were on Beth as he spoke. Joe kicked his horse lightly and started riding toward the north pasture. He didn’t realize he was whistling as he rode.
**********
His stomach was grumbling for food as Joe descended the stairs toward the breakfast table the next morning. He had missed dinner last night, coming home when the sky was practically black. Joe knew it was his own fault that he was late. He had checked the water holes in the north pasture as he was suppose to, but he had done it with a distracted air. Twice he found himself staring into the water with no idea how long he had been sitting on his horse by the small pond. His mind was filled with the image of silky black hair and blue eyes, not the muddy water in front of him.
When he finally reached home, his father and brothers had already finished their evening meal. Joe walked into the house to see Ben Cartwright in his chair by the fire and Adam and Hoss playing chess. His half-hearted apology had been greeted by a brief lecture from his father about being on time. Hop Sing also had scolded him in a spate of Chinese as the cook put a plate of warmed up stew in front of Joe. Joe had barely heard the stern words from both men, and had barely tasted the few bites of stew he had eaten. His thoughts were still on a blue-eyed beauty named Beth.
Making an excuse of being tired, Joe had left his almost untouched dinner and headed straight to bed. Joe had eagerly sought the privacy of his room and his bed so he could go over for what seemed the hundredth time his meeting with Beth. He was sure he slept with a smile on his face as his dreams were filled with her image.
But while images of black hair and blue eyes pleasured Joe’s soul, those images did little for his stomach. Now, as the sun began to rise, thoughts of Beth were nudged to the back of his mind. Joe’s thoughts were on food and easing the hungry growling of his stomach.
“Morning,” said Joe with a nod as he slipped into his chair.
Adam and Hoss nodded their greeting to him. Both were sipping coffee as they waited for Hop Sing to bring breakfast.
“Good morning,” replied Ben briefly as he also began to sip his coffee.
Hop Sing emerged from the kitchen with a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon. He stopped next to Joe’s chair and shoved the platter in front of Joe.
“You eat,” demanded the cook. “You no eat dinner. Not good for you to not eat.”
“Don’t worry, Hop Sing,” said Joe in a soothing voice as he began to scrap some of the eggs onto his plate. “I’m hungry enough to out-eat Hoss this morning.”
“That’ll be the day,” commented Adam wryly.
Standing silent by the table, Hop Sing watched Joe fill his plate with eggs and bacon. He snorted with satisfaction as Joe forked a large piece of the eggs into his mouth.
“Hop Sing, you going to stand there all day holding those eggs or are you going to feed the rest of us?” complained Hoss.
Hop Sing set the platter on the table. “Mr. Hoss like Hop Sing’s cooking,” he said. “Mr. Hoss always eat.” Hop Sing looked pointedly at Joe. “Mr. Hoss never miss dinner.”
“Um, Hop Sing, I won’t be here for dinner tonight,” Joe told the cook almost tentatively.
Immediately, Hop Sing’s nose went into the air. “Little Joe not like Hop Sing’s cooking,” he declared in an insulted voice. “Hop Sing not wanted. I leave.”
“Now calm down, Hop Sing,” said Ben in a reasonable voice. “I’m sure Joe loves your cooking.” Ben looked at his youngest son. “Don’t you?”
“Oh, I love your cooking Hop Sing,” agreed Joe, trying to hide a smile. “I think it’s the best cooking on the Comstock. I wouldn’t miss dinner if it wasn’t something real important, I promise you.”
Looking mollified, Hop Sing nodded. “You eat big breakfast,” he ordered Joe. “Eat good so you not get thin and sick.” With that remark, Hop Sing turned and walked into the kitchen, mumbling in Chinese as left the dinning room.
“Pa, I bet you never figured you were hiring a mother hen as well as a cook when you took on Hop Sing,” said Joe with a chuckled.
Ben didn’t answer. He was watching as Hoss emptied half the platter of eggs onto his plate. “Hoss, would you mind leaving something for the rest of us to eat?” he asked in an aggravated tone of voice.
“What?” replied Hoss. “Oh, yeah, sorry, Pa.” He quickly handed the platter to Ben.
After filling his plate, Ben handed the platter down the table toward Adam. “Now, what’s this about missing dinner tonight?” asked Ben as he began to eat.
“I want to go into Virginia City,” replied Joe as he continued to eat. “I’ll have dinner there.” Joe glanced at his father. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Of course, it’s all right with me,” Ben agreed in an indulgent voice. “If you’ve finished checking the north pasture,” he added in a sterner tone.
“Yep, all done,” Joe answered. “The only water hole that’s low is the small one near Granite Point. We probably should dig that one deeper,”
“What’s so important about going into Virginia City?” asked Adam curiously. “On a Wednesday night, I wouldn’t imagine much is happening.”
“Oh, I just want to see something,” Joe explained vaguely.
“See what, little brother?” asked Hoss.
Joe sighed. He had hoped that he wouldn’t have to explain to his brothers about the medicine show, but he knew they would question and probe until they found out why he was going to town. “There’s a traveling show opening tonight. I thought I’d go in and see it.”
“A show,” said Adam with a frown. “I didn’t see anything about a show opening at the Opera House.”
“Well, it’s not exactly at the Opera House,” Joe admitted.
“What kind of show isn’t presented at the Opera House?” pressed Adam.
“Um, well, it’s kind of a medicine show,” said Joe in a low a voice.
“A medicine show?” exclaimed Hoss. “Why do you want to see a medicine show, Joe?”
Looking down at his plate, Joe didn’t answer. He simply forked another bit of egg into his mouth.
“Oh,” said Adam as realization came to him. “There’s a girl in the show. A pretty one, I’ll bet.” He looked at Joe with a puzzled expression. “But how’d you find out about it? You haven’t been in town for a week?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Joe tried to look unconcerned. “Their wagon broke down on the Virginia City road. I happened across them on the way to the north pasture. I helped them fix the wagon and they invited me to the show.”
“And met a pretty little gal in the process,” added Hoss with a grin. “Joe, how did you manage to find a pretty girl in the middle of nowhere?”
“Just a talent, I guess, “ replied Joe with a grin.
“I’d watch yourself around those people,” Adam warned his brother. “Those medicine shows are filled with con men and hucksters. You better make sure this girl doesn’t pick you pocket before you leave town.”
“She’s not like that!” said Joe defensively.
“Oh?” Adam replied. “And just how do you know that?”
“She’s a nice girl,” Joe stated. But even to his ears, his reply sounded a bit lame. “She dances in the show, that’s all.”
“Dances in the show,” repeated Adam. “And what else?”
“Adam, you’re accusing this girl of something when you don’t even know her,” said Joe heatedly.
“And you’re trusting this girl when you don’t even know her,” replied Adam. “A pretty face and a sweet smile doesn’t mean she’s not a con artist.”
“All right, all right,” interrupted Ben, hoping to forestall an argument. He turned toward his oldest son. “Adam, you know better than to label someone you haven’t even met.” Adam looked down at his plate, chastised by his father’s words. Ben turned back to Joe. “As for you, Joe, I would suggest you get to know this girl before you start her side against your brother.”
“That’s just what I plan to do,” agreed Joe with an impish smile.
“How late do you think you’ll be tonight?” Ben tried to make the question sound as casual as possible.
“I don’t know,” admitted Joe. “I’m going to see the show and I hope Beth will let me take her to supper.”
“Beth?” asked Ben with a cocked eyebrow.
“That’s the girl,” said Joe. His eyes took on a faraway look as Joe remembered the meeting with Beth yesterday. “She’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” added Joe softly.
“Try not to make it too late,” advised Ben, trying to hide a smile at what he considered to be Joe’s latest infatuation. “We have a full day of work tomorrow.” Ben looked around the table and saw the plates in front of his sons were empty. “In fact, we have a full day of work today, also. I suggest we all get busy.”
***************
It didn’t take Joe long to find the building on the edge of town where Harris was staging his show. The milling crowd and the squeals of delighted children led him right to the old warehouse. Joe had stabled his horse, betting that he would be in town for quite awhile. Now he walked up the street of Virginia City toward the building where Harris and Company were performing.
As he walked, Joe did a mental check on his appearance. Clean white shirt, polished boots, new tan pants, and brushed green jacket were all ticked off in his mind. He had endured the gentle kidding from Hoss on his “duded up” look before he left the house, as well as the reminder from his father not to stay out too late. Adam hadn’t said a word. His oldest brother had just looked at Joe and shook his head. Joe had felt irritated with all of them. He hated it when his family treated him as if he were 12 instead of 22. But his irritation had been quickly forgotten as he rode to town. A pretty girl with black hair and blue eyes were all that was on Joe’s mind right now.
As he approached the building, Joe could see a small stand surrounded by children. Puppets were performing on the top of the stand, obviously manipulated by the diminutive Bob from behind. Several adults stood on the edge of the circle of children, laughing indulgently as the puppets amused the younger members of the audience. Harris was standing a few feet from the puppets, near a table covered with bottles. As Joe walked up, Harris was just beginning his spiel. Joe heard him begin to extol the wonders of the “medicine” within the bottles.
Standing a few feet away, Joe watched and listened for a minute. Harris was a smooth talker, and he could see several of the adults looking interested. Occasionally, Bob would interrupt Harris, making a comment or a joke in a high squeaky voice that seemed to come from one of the puppets. Both the children and their parents laughed at the jibes. Joe could tell it was a well rehearsed act, designed to keep the audience from getting restless.
Skirting the crowd, Joe walked toward the door of the building. Harris spotted him as he walked by. The pitchman acknowledged Joe with a short nod and a smile, but continued his smooth talk. Joe smiled briefly at Harris and continued toward the building.
A large poster with the drawing of a dancing girl was tacked to the wall near the door of the building. The girl was dressed in an exotic outfit – full red pants, a gold top and a bare midriff in between. A veil covered the girl’s face, showing only a pair of eyes. Her body was twisted in a seductive pose, with hands twined over her head. “The Dance of Salome” was written in bold letters across the top of the poster. The poster was old, worn and crinkled from much used. Nevertheless, Joe stopped and stared at the picture.
He couldn’t see any resemblance to Beth in the girl on the poster. It was either a drawing of someone else or just a representation of a girl dancing. But Joe’s eyes got a gleam in them as he looked at the poster. The dancing girl looked seductive and welcoming. A warm feeling ran through Joe as he pictured Beth in the same pose.
Someone brushed Joe’s arm as they passed him, waking him from his daydream. Joe hurried toward the door of the building.
The tall man, Frank, was standing near the door selling tickets to the show. Frank’s face lighted up with a smile as he saw Joe approaching.
“Well, well, hello there, Mr. Joe,” said Frank in genuine pleasure. His voice had a trace of a cockney accent. “Glad you could make it to our show. I’ll be sure to tell Beth you are here.”
“Hello, Frank,” Joe greeted the man in return. Joe stared to dig into his jacket for some coins. “How much?”
Frank held up his hand. “Normally, it’s two bits, but for you, no charge. Bert said you were to get in free anytime you came.”
“Thanks,” replied Joe, with a nod.
“Go right on in,” continued Frank, sweeping his arm toward the door. “Take a seat in the third row center. That’s where you can see best.”
“Thanks again,” said Joe, and he walked into the building.
A small stage had been assembled at the front of the building. Benches were scattered around the stage, six or seven rows deep. About twenty men were seated on the benches in various places. Joe saw only a few women. The poster on the building made it clear what to expect in the show, so very few women had bought tickets. The few that did had their hands firmly around their escorts’ arms.
Joe nodded hello to a few people he recognized as he made his way to the front of the benches. He took Frank’s advice and found a seat on the middle bench in the third row.
As he waited for the show to begin, Joe looked around. The stage was nothing more than a platform, raised a few feet off the ground. A curtain was draped to the side, tied to a rope that hung from the ceiling, and slanting down to a far wall. Joe assumed that the curtain was used to create a “backstage area”. The cloth looked frayed and worn. At one time, it must have been a deep red, but now the color was faded to a dull rust. Small patches were clearly visible throughout the cloth.
Lamps scattered around the platform lit the stage. The lamps were widely spaced, and two or three didn’t seem to be working. The platform was covered with a mottling of light and dark areas from the uneven lighting.
The audience hummed with low talk and a few loud laughs. Joe wondered how long he would to wait for the show to start. He had a feeling that the people around him would get restless very soon. Joe was already getting anxious for the show to start, but his reason wasn’t boredom.
Harris had the timing of a veteran performer. Just as the crowd seemed to have reached the limits of their patience, Harris bounded onto the stage from behind the curtain, greeting the audience with a loud, “Welcome friends!” Every head in the audience immediately turned toward the stage.
Beginning the show, Harris sang a song filled with bawdy lyrics that brought laughter from the crowd. Even Joe felt himself smiling. Harris moved around the platform as he sang, his voice loud and slightly off key. He finished with a flourish, and bowed to the applause.
As Harris exited, Frank came on stage. He had a banjo in his hands, and immediately began playing. He stopped to tell a few jokes, only some of which drew laughter. He played the banjo a bit more, then began to dance. His long legs bent and moved into seemingly impossible steps, causing the crowd to whistle and clap in appreciation. Frank kicked his legs high into the air as he began strumming the banjo again. The crowd cheered as he moved around the stage. He finished with a series of quick, high kicks. Frank strummed the banjo quickly as he bowed to the applause.
Next Harris returned to the stage, this time holding a bottle in his hand. He once again began to talk about his wonderful medicine, and reminding the audience they could purchase a bottle on their way out of the building. Harris was brief; he knew he could only hold the crowd’s attention for a few minutes. He walked to the edge of the stage and handed the bottle to someone behind the curtain. Then showman moved to the middle of the platform.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the star of our show,” announced Harris. “The lovely Fatima will dance the dance of Salome. This dance is thousands of years old, and is known by only a few artists in the world. It is said to have so inflamed the passions of King Herod that he promised Salome anything she wanted in the world. You are indeed among the privileged few who will see this dance performed once more. I give you the lovely Fatima!” Harris spread his arms toward the curtain and slowly backed off the stage.
A low, wailing sound came from the side of the stage. Joe, as well as the rest of the audience, hadn’t noticed Frank slipping from behind the curtain and standing to the side of the platform. Now Frank began to play a long, black clarinet. The music was exotic, almost eerie.
Frank had played for only a few seconds when a figure emerged from the curtain, stepping lightly toward the middle of the stage. She was dressed in the red harem pants depicted on the poster. The pants hugged her waist and hips tightly, then flared out around her legs. The bottom of the pants were tied around her ankles. Gold slippers covered the girl’s feet.
As in the poster, the girl’s midriff was bare. But instead of a gold top, the dancer wore a red vest-like covering. The red top had a silky look, and hugged the girl’s breasts tightly. The vest was cut low, meeting in a v just above the breasts. Sleeves of gauzy white material covered the dancer’s arms, billowing as she moved.
The girl’s black hair was braided and coiled around her head. Gold ornaments were stuck in the braids, surrounding the dancer’s head and giving the impression that she was wearing a crown. Thin stands of gold chain hung across her forehead, the ends of the chain evidently attached to the braids. A veil covered the dancer’s face. Only her eyes were visible.
At first, Joe couldn’t believe the girl on stage was the same girl he met on the road. The girl he remembered seemed sweet and pleasant. The dancer seemed exotic and seductive. But then he saw her eyes, her deep blue eyes, peeking over the veil and there was no doubt in Joe’s mind that the dancer was Beth.
As the clarinet wailed, the girl began to move in the middle of the stage. Her arms waved slowly, and her hips began to sway. The movements were in perfect time to the music.
The beat of the music changed, and the wailing turned into a slow melody. The dancer moved across the stage, and began to dance.
Joe watched in fascination as Beth moved across the stage. Her dance was a combination of ballet steps and slow waltz movements. Occasionally, she would stop and move her hips seductively before moving on to the next series of steps. Joe held his breath as he watched her move with grace and ease.
The music began to pick up a faster beat, and Beth moved in quicker steps. Her feet seemed to cross and uncross. Her left foot came up to her right knee as her body turned and her hands bent at the wrists, pointing to something to her side. She kicked out her leg and twirled. As she landed, her left leg bent slightly while her right leg was stretched out behind her. Beth’s arms raised slowly until they were above her head, and she twisted her hands slowly around.
The audience watched in silence as Beth dropped her arms and brought her legs together. She turned slowly to face the audience, dropping her head a bit and coming to the front of the stage in swaying movements. She brought her hands together as if in prayer and bowed, then took several steps back.
Beth stood on the point of her toe in the center of the stage, and began to spin. The movement caused her pants and sleeves to billow out even more. Three quick turns finished the move. She then swayed her hips seductively again as she reached out her arms, as if pleading for something. The music got louder as her pleas seemed to become almost desperate. With a sudden movement, she pulled her arms to her back, an action which thrust her breasts forward. She held the pose for only an instant. Beth twisted her right leg over her left, and with a spinning movement, collapsed to the stage in a heap. Her hands dropped to her side and her chin fell to her chest. Beth stayed in her huddled pose as the music came to an end.
The men in the crowd began to shout and whistle in appreciation as they realized the dance was over. Several jumped to their feet as they clapped and whistled. Joe found himself clapping so hard that his hands and arms hurt.
Uncoiling herself from the middle of the stage, Beth walked slowly forward. She brought her hands together in the prayer pose as she bowed to acknowledge the applause. Her eyes seemed to be searching the crowd as she bowed. Beth’s eyes stopped moving as she saw the handsome face she sought. She bowed again, this time in Joe’s direction. The veil hid the girl’s face so Joe wasn’t sure if she was smiling at him. But the crinkles around her eyes led him to believe she was.
Beth backed slowly from the front of the stage to the center, then turned to glide behind the curtain. The whistles, shouts and applause continued until she had disappeared.
Immediately Harris bounded back onto the stage. The audience greeted him with a chorus of good natured boo’s. Harris smiled, expecting the audience’s unhappiness that he and not the dancer was now center stage. He began to sing again, and this time, his song was a lively tune that praised the benefits of his “medicine”.
Joe watched Harris perform but his attention wasn’t on the stage. He was counting the minutes to himself, trying to figure how long it might take Beth to change out of her costume. About five minutes had passed when Joe decided he couldn’t wait any longer. Harris was still singing as Joe slipped out the row of benches and headed for the door of the building.
Once outside the door, Joe hesitated. He realized he wasn’t sure where Beth might be. He didn’t know if there was a room behind the curtain or if she left the building to return to the wagon. And he didn’t know where the wagon was.
“She’s in the wagon, ‘round the side of the building,” a voice a Joe’s elbow said.
Turning, Joe saw Bob setting up some bottles on a table near the door. Bob cocked his head, indicating the direction that Joe should go. Joe nodded briefly and headed around the building.
The gaudy red wagon was parked toward the back of the building, the traces facing away from the structure. Joe figured the building must have some type of back door so Beth could slip out of it and go directly to the wagon.
As he neared the wagon, Jow saw he wasn’t the only man interested in the garish vehicle. Someone was knocking on the door of the wagon and calling for “Miss Fatima”. Walking closer, Joe recognized the man as Jack Slater, one of the new hands from the Flying M ranch. Slater was about Joe’s age, and from what Joe had heard, the hand was building himself quite a reputation as a “ladies man.”
“Miss Fatima! Miss Fatima!” cried Slater as he pounded harder on the wagon door. “Please open up. I sure would like to meet you.”
“Go away,” came a muffled response from within the wagon.
“But Miss Fatima, you haven’t even seen me,” said Slater with a confidence air. “I’m sure you would like me if you saw me.”
“Go away!” the muffled voice repeated.
Strolling up to the wagon, Joe stopped a few feet behind Slater. “Jack, why don’t you go what the lady asks and leave,” he suggested.
Slater turned in surprise. “Cartwright! I should have figured you’d be here. Well, you’re too late. I got here first. I’m taking the lady out.”
“Seems like the lady doesn’t want to go out with you,” stated Joe in a even voice.
“A gal who dances like that?” Slater declared almost incredulously. “Shoot, she’ll go out with the first fellow who comes calling, and that’s me.”
Joe clenched his fists in anger. “I think you’d better leave, Jack,” said Joe in a menacing tone. “The lady already has plans for the evening, and they don’t include you.”
Surprise followed by anger crossed Slater’s face. “Oh, so that’s how it is,” he sneered. “She’s going to get a piece of the rich boy first. Well, fine. When she’s finished with you, she’ll come looking for a real man. I’ll be around when that time comes.”
Grabbing Slater of the front his shirt, Joe pulled the man away from the wagon. “I asked you to leave,” said Joe in an angry voice.
“Joe, let him go!”
Both Slater and Joe turned toward the voice. Beth was standing in the door of the wagon. She was wearing a simple print dress with a scoop neckline and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. There was no evidence of “Fatima” who had danced so seductively only minutes before.
“Joe, please, I don’t want any trouble,” pleaded Beth. “Let him go.”
Releasing his hold on Slater’s shirt, Joe gave the man a shove. “Get out of here, Slater,” growled Joe.
Slater looked to Beth and then to Joe. “I see how things are,” he said in a sullen voice. The cowboy pulled his hat down lower on his forehead. “I’m leaving. But this ain’t over. This ain’t over by no means.” Slater whirled and stalked away from the way.
Joe watched Slater walk away. He took a deep breath, to both cool his anger as well as clear his head. He didn’t want to repeat his performance on the road when he had managed to say such stupid things. Joe turned and flashed a smile at Beth. “Hello, Beth,” he said gently. “How about that dinner.”
“Oh, Joe, I’m so sorry,” replied Beth in dismay as she swung herself down from the wagon. “I’ve caused trouble for you. Now that man is angry with you.”
“Slater? Don’t worry about him,” answered Joe with a careless shrug. “He’s all talk.” Joe moved closer to Beth. “He’s not a man of action, like I am.”
At first, Beth looked almost frightened by Joe’s words. But then she saw the twinkle in his eye and she burst into laughter.
“So, how about it?” asked Joe, when Beth’s laughter subsided. “Dinner?”
“I don’t know, Joe,” replied Beth hesitantly. She looked around, almost as if she expected to see someone.
“Are you expecting someone else?” asked Joe, the disappointment evident in his voice.
“Oh, no,” Beth assured him quickly. “It’s just that, well, I’m not sure if…I’m just not sure.”
“I’m perfectly harmless,” Joe told the girl solemnly. Then a smile crossed his face. “Look, I’m hungry and I’m sure you’re hungry. We both have to eat. Seems silly for us both to eat alone.”
A wry smile crossed Beth’s lips. “I could use a bite,” she admitted. She cocked her head and looked at Joe, her smile widening. “You do look rather harmless. I suppose I could survive having dinner with you.”
“Not exactly the ringing endorsement I had hoped for,” replied Joe with a grin. He held out his arm. “Miss Fatima.”
Beth took his arm. “I really dislike that name,” she said with a shake of her head. “Bert thought it up. He thinks it sounds romantic or something. I think it sounds kind of silly.”
“What is your name?” asked Joe as he walked with Beth toward the front of the building.
“Beth.”
“Yes, but Beth what?” pressed Joe.
“Beth will do for now,” she replied in airy tone.
Sighing, Joe led Beth through the crowd of people who were exiting the building. The show was over, and people were spilling out onto the street. A few stopped to buy a bottle of Harris' elixir, but not many. No one paid any attention to the girl clinging to Joe’s arm.
“No one recognizes you,” commented Joe as they passed through the crowd.
“That’s just the way I like it,” replied Beth. “That’s why I wear the veil and that outlandish costume. No one would ever know it’s me up on that stage.”
“I knew it was you,” said Joe softly.
Beth looked at Joe in surprise.
“Ah, how about dinner at the hotel?” suggested Joe quickly. “The food is pretty good.”
“The hotel is a bit…public,” said Beth in a hesitant voice. “Couldn’t we go someplace where’s there no so many people around?”
“Sure,” replied Joe in surprise. He thought for a minute. “Polly Morgan has a little café over on A street. It’s small and this time of night, I doubt if there will be more than one or two people in there. Polly’s meals are simple but they taste great.”
“Perfect,” said Beth enthusiastically. She tightened her hand on Joe’s arm and moved a bit closer to him.
The two walked in a comfortable silence toward Polly’s café a block or two away. Beth looked around, as if she was seeing Virginia City for the first time. Joe couldn’t take his eye’s off Beth.
All too soon – at least in Joe’s mind – the couple came to a building with a small sign proclaiming simply “Polly’s Café”. A bell tinkled as Joe pushed the door open for Beth.
The restaurant was small, no more than a half a dozen tables covered with checked tablecloths. All six of the tables were empty.
“Joe Cartwright!” exclaimed a large woman wearing an apron as she came into the dining room from a rear door. The woman was in her forties, and her face was glowing with pleasure. “How nice to see you!”
“Hello, Polly,” replied Joe with a smile. He looked around the empty café. “You still open?”
“I am for you and your lady friend,” Polly declared. Her smile was both indulgent and maternal. “I’m always open for you.” She turned to Beth. “Hello, dear. Please sit down and make yourself at home.”
Beth and Joe seated themselves at a table in the middle of the café as Polly brought over napkins and silverware. As she set the table, Polly smiled. She could see the look of fascination on Joe’s face as he stared at the girl across the table from him. “That girl’s got him hooked already,” she said to herself. She wondered who the girl was. Polly thought she knew just about everyone in Virginia City, but the girl with Joe was a stranger.
“Now, I have some nice ham and green beans I can bring you, “ announced Polly in a brisk voice. “And I’ve just made some biscuits. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” agreed Joe in a distracted voice. He was still looking into Beth’s eyes. He would have agreed to cut glass and sand if Polly had suggested it. Joe had no idea what he was going to be served for dinner.
“That sounds lovely,” replied Beth in a gracious voice. “I hope we’re not putting you out.”
“Not at all, dear,” Polly answered. “You two just make yourselves comfortable while I dish up your dinner. I’ll put on a pot of fresh coffee for you, too.”
“You have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” said Joe as Polly left the room.
Beth blushed a bit. “Thank you,” she replied. She grinned impishly. “You have nice eyes, too.”
With a twinkle in his eyes, Joe continued. “Your hair is so thick and pretty when it’s down like that.”
Beth quickly fell into a teasing mood. “Now that you have your hat off, I can see you have lovely hair also.”
“Your face lights up when you smile,” said Joe grinning.
“You have a wonderful smile,” replied Beth with a grin.
“And you dance so wonderfully,” added Joe, his grin widening.
“You…” Beth suddenly stopped in confusion. “You ride your horse nicely,” she finished lamely.
Both Beth and Joe burst into laughter at the comment and their silly little game. Polly came back into the room carrying two plates, and looked at the two young people who were giggling at the table. “What’s so funny?” she asked as she set the plates in front of them.
“Polly, I can’t begin to explain,” said Joe, still laughing.
Polly shook her head as she headed back to the kitchen. She returned in only a minute with a plate of biscuits, a pot of coffee and two cups. She set everything on the table, then took a step back. “I’ve got some dishes to wash, so if you need anything else, just yell.”
Beth nodded and began to eat. Joe simply looked at the girl across the table and grinned. Polly shook her head and left the table.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” asked Beth as she began to cut the ham slice on her plate into small pieces.
“What?” answered Joe in a startled voice. “Oh, yeah, I’m going to eat.” He also started cutting his ham. “Where did you ever learn to dance like that?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” said Beth, mysteriously. “Tell me about your ranch. Bert says your family has the biggest ranch in Nevada.”
For the next hour, Joe talked about the Ponderosa, his family, his life on the ranch, and even his pinto Cochise. Beth asked questions and seemed interested in his answers. But every time, Joe asked Beth a question, she neatly sidestepped it, and brought the conversation back to Joe.
Joe didn’t even realize he had eaten when Polly came back through the door to collect the plates. “Can I get you two some pie,” suggested Polly as she picked up the dishes.
“Not for me,” said Beth with a smile. “But the dinner was excellent. Thank you.”
Studying the girl, Polly asked, “Are you new in town, dear? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
“I’m just passing through,” replied Beth vaguely.
“Will you be here long?” asked Polly, her curiosity piqued.
“We’ll be leaving on Monday,” Beth answered.
“Oh, you’re here with your family?” suggested Polly.
Beth gave a small sigh. “No, I’m with the traveling show that’s performing here this week.”
“Oh, I see,” said Polly. Suddenly the image of the poster she had seen flashed into Polly’s mind. “Oh,” she repeated with a frown. “You’re that…dancer.”
“Yes,” admitted Beth in a small voice.
“And she dances wonderfully,” added Joe with a smile.
“Hmm, yes,” said Polly in a tight voice. “I’ll just clear these away.” Polly quickly left the room.
“I’m afraid she doesn’t approve of my dancing,” said Beth in a sad voice.
“She hasn’t seen you dance,” countered Joe. “I have. And I certainly approve.”
Polly bustled back into the room and put a slip of paper on the table. “That’ll be four dollars,” she stated in a tight voice.
Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar piece. “Here, Polly,” he said, putting the coin on the table. “Keep the change.”
Both Beth and Joe pushed back their chairs and stood to leave. As Beth walked toward the door, Polly grabbed Joe’s arm. “Joe, do you what kind of girl she is?” hissed Polly in a low voice.
Joe patted Polly’s hand. “I do, Polly,” he said in a soft voice. “She’s a very nice girl.” Joe gently removed Polly’s hand and walked to the door where Beth was waiting. As the couple walked out the door, Polly shook her head and frowned.
“Polly doesn’t approve of me,” said Beth as she stood outside of the door of the café.
Taking Beth’s hand in his, Joe smiled. “Polly doesn’t know you. I do. And I definitely approve of you.” Joe bent his head forward to kiss Beth, but she took a step back, avoiding the kiss.
“It’s getting late,” she said softly.
“All right,” Joe acknowledged with a sigh. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”
“I’m not staying at the hotel,” said Beth. “I found a rooming house just down from the hotel.”
“Mrs. O’Brien’s?” said Joe in surprise.
“Yes, that’s the one,” replied Beth.
“That’s not the best place to stay in Virginia City,” Joe advised in a cautious voice.
“Bert finds the living quarters for us, and he can’t afford to get fancy hotel rooms for us. Besides, it’s clean and it’s private. That’s all that matters to me,” Beth answered with a shrug.
“For someone who dances in public, you sure like your privacy,” said Joe with a puzzled expression.
“What I do on stage has nothing to do with my life off stage,” explained Beth. “I don’t like being around a lot of people.”
“I don’t get it,” admitted Joe. “You don’t seem to mind all the people at the show.”
“The people at the show can’t see my face, and they think they are looking at the lovely Fatima,” Beth explained. She shivered a bit. “It’s getting cool.”
Joe took the hint and started down the street, his hand still holding Beth’s. As they walked down the almost deserted street, Beth seemed to be watching and looking for something. Joe noticed her distracted air, but didn’t comment.
The couple stopped in front a large house with a sign in the window announcing “Rooms to Let”. Beth nodded toward the door. “This is where I’m staying.
“I’ll see you to your room,” suggested Joe.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Beth quickly. She smiled. “Thank you for dinner. It was lovely.”
“Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?” asked Joe.
“I don’t think Polly will want to stay open for me tomorrow,” Beth replied with a wry grin.
“There’s other places to eat in Virginia City,” said Joe. His face grew serious. “Please. Let me take you to dinner again tomorrow.”
Beth hesitated, then smiled. “All right.”
Joe bent forward for a kiss. This time, Beth didn’t pull back but she turned her head slightly so that Joe’s lips met her cheek. Joe looked at her with a questioning gaze.
Beth looked back at Joe, her face sad and her eyes bright with tears. “You’re sweet, Joe,” was all she said. She reached up and stroked his cheek gently. Then Beth turned and walked quickly into the house.
For several minutes, Joe just stared at the closed door. He was confused by Beth. She seemed to like him, and enjoy his company. But at the same time, she seemed afraid to let him get too close to her. He realized he didn’t even know her last name.
Taking a deep breath, Joe headed toward the stables. He promised himself that he would find out more about Beth tomorrow. As he thought about seeing Beth again tomorrow, Joe smiled.
**************
“How was the show?” asked Ben as his youngest son slid into his chair at the table for breakfast the next morning.
“It was good, Pa,” Joe answered, reaching for the coffee pot. “A lot better than most of the other medicine shows I’ve seen. A lot of singing and dancing, and they even had some puppets for the kids.”
“And your young lady?” Ben deliberately made the question ambiguous.
“Beth and I had a dinner at Polly’s after the show,” replied Joe slowly, not quite sure how to answer his father’s question. He poured himself a cup of coffee. “We had a good time.”
“What does Beth do in the show?” pressed Ben
“She dances,” said Joe. He sipped his coffee and didn’t elaborate.
“Charlie and a couple of the boys from the bunkhouse saw the show last night,” commented Adam. “They told me that there was a girl who did quite a dance in the show. According to them, it was a pretty risqué performance.”
Joe looked at Adam in surprise. “Charlie was at the show?” He didn’t remember seeing the veteran ranch hand at the old warehouse, but then Joe couldn’t have named anyone who had been in the audience with him. He had had eyes only for Beth last night. “Beth did a real nice dance,” Joe added, feigning indifference.
“Nice isn’t exactly the right word for what I heard she did on stage,” said Adam, arching an eyebrow.
“How can you say that, Adam?” demanded Joe heatedly. “You weren’t even there.”
“No, I wasn’t. But I heard Charlie describe it,” replied Adam.
“Charlie would think a dancer was shocking if she showed her ankles,” said Joe with a disgust. “You can’t judge anything by what he says.”
“What are you getting all hot and bothered about, little brother?” asked Hoss in a puzzled tone. “You saw her dance and you had dinner with her. A couple of days, she’ll be gone. I don’t see what difference it makes what Charlie said.”
Looking down at his plate, Joe didn’t reply. He couldn’t explain why it was important to him what people thought of Beth. He only knew that it was. “I’m taking Beth to dinner again tonight,” said Joe in a low voice.
Ben looked at Joe in surprise. He had thought that Joe would spend an evening with the girl and that would be the end of it. But now he had the uneasy feeling that there was something more brewing between his youngest son and the girl from the medicine show. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of this budding romance. “You’re having dinner with her again tonight?” he asked, trying not to sound critical.
Joe looked up at Ben. “Yes, I am,” he answered in a voice that almost dared his father to object. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?”
Sipping his coffee, Ben chose his words carefully. “No, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. It’s just that we have a lot of work to do getting that north pasture ready for the herd. I need a full day’s work out of you.”
“You’ll get it,” declared Joe, his voice rising in anger. “I do my share around here, you know.”
“Don’t use that voice with me, young man,” said Ben sharply. He felt his temper starting to rise and took a deep breath to calm himself. “I just meant that I don’t want you spreading yourself too thin,” he continued in a more reasonable voice. “Working all day and going to Virginia City in the evening -- that’s burning the candle at both ends. Something is going to suffer. I just don’t want it to be the Ponderosa.”
Pursing his lips, Joe looked down at this plate again. Right now, a raven haired girl with blue eyes was much more important to him than the north pasture. But Joe knew better than to say that to his father.
Joe took a bite of toast and chewed it slowly. “Don’t worry, Pa,” he said in what he hoped was a normal voice. “I’ll get my work done.” He looked up again at Ben, and this time his expression was almost pleading. “But I promised Beth I’d take her to dinner tonight. I have to go to town. I can’t just not show up.”
Looking at the earnest expression on Joe’s face, Ben felt himself relenting. “If you told her you would be there, I suppose you have to go. But,” Ben’s voice grew stern. “I think it would be wise if you didn’t make any plans for tomorrow night.”
Sipping his coffee, Joe didn’t answer. He had every intention of seeing Beth tomorrow night. However, he didn’t think it was wise to tell his father that just yet.
Adam and Hoss glanced