Categories > TV > Bonanza > The End of All Things

The End of All Things

by Brink182 2 reviews

Its 1934, and the reign of the Cartwrights is coming to an end.

Category: Bonanza - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Published: 2006-06-05 - Updated: 2006-06-06 - 737 words

The End of All Things

By: Yvonne Stevens (Brink182)

David Dortort owns /Bonanza, /not me. If you wanna sue me for using anything from /Bonanza, /without permission, all you're gonna get is a handful of pennies. Seriously.


Chapter One: The Ponderosa

Twenty six year old Claire Martin stepped out of the car, and looked at the scene before her. /That house is definitely too big for one old man, /she thought, staring at the great log house in front of her. She picked up her two suitcases and walked onto the verandah. She knocked on the door. It opened. Claire heard the car leave.


She walked inside the house. She saw the ninety two year old man in a chair in the large room, playing checkers against himself.

"Mr. Cartwright?" she asked.

The old man didn't appear to hear her. Claire approached the chair where he was seated.

"Mr. Cartwright?"

The old man looked up, startled.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I wasn't paying attention, I'm afraid."

"It's alright," said Claire.

To be honest, Claire had been expecting him to be on his deathbed, not versing himself in a game of checkers.

"Its funny," he said, with a slight smile, " no matter how old I am, whenever I hear 'Mr. Cartwright', I think they're talking to my pa."


"What's your name?" he asked Claire, shifting his gaze to her.

She was surprised by how green his eyes were.

"Claire Martin," she said.

"Keeping the family business going, I see," he said.

"More or less."

"Right. You can call me Joe, Miss Martin."

"Its Claire."


Joe finished his game. He won, he gleefully informed Claire, not mentioning the fact that he lost at the same time. Then, he grabbed his cane and hobbled over to the stairs.

"Come, Claire. I'll show you to your room, " he said.


They ascended the stairs together. Joe led Claire down the hall to a room.

"Here it is," he said, "it used to be Adam's and then Jaime's. Now its yours."

"Thank you," she said.

"Its no trouble."


Joe had gone back downstairs while Claire began to unpack her suitcases. She put her clothes in the dresser, a few photo, notebooks and pens on the dresser, and her suitcases under the bed. When she finished, she went back downstairs.


She didn't see Joe in the great room. She looked in the other room, and kitchen. He wasn't inside, so she went outside. There he was; in a chair on the verandah.


"Hi, Joe," she said.

"Hey, Claire," he said.

A pitcher of lemonade and a plate of cookies were sitting on the small table next to Joe. Claire took a seat on the other side of the table.

"Do you want some lemonade or a cookie?" asked Joe.

"Where'd you get them?" Claire asked.

"A lady in town stopped by not long before you came today. They do that a lot," he said.



They sat on the verandah, eating cookies, drinking lemonade and talking. Joe had many stories of his youth. He lived in this house his whole life. All ninety two years of it.

"A lot changes in ninety two years, but some things never change, Claire."


Joe shivered and then grabbed his cane and made his way inside. It was getting cold. Claire followed, carrying the lemonade pitcher and plate of cookies.


Joe was halfway up the stairs when Claire came inside. He was going to get a sweater from his room. Claire started a fire in the fireplace.


When Joe came back downstairs, Claire made supper.

"This is good, Claire," said Joe.

"Thank you," said Claire.

"You're welcome."


After supper, Claire washed the dishes. Then, she went back into the great room.

"Think you can beat an old man at checkers?" Joe asked.

"I can try," replied Claire, with a smile.


Joe won three games. Claire won one. She was convinced Joe cheated on at least one of the games, but she wasn't quite sure how.

"Good game, Claire," he said, "its been awhile since I had someone to play with."

"You played well, Joe," said Claire, feeling sorry for him.

"Thank you," he said with a yawn, "I think its about time I went to bed."

"Alright," said Claire, "goodnight, Joe."

"Goodnight, Claire."


Claire was still seated on the settee, as she watched the elderly man hobble on up the stairs to his room at the top.


Sign up to rate and review this story