Subj:   Lynne Schmidt Normal Lynne Schmidt 7 202
2000-03-07T17:34:00Z 2000-03-08T17:52:00Z 6 2282 9813 245 57 15974 9.2720 
	       Title: In The Laughter of a Small Boy Author: Lys Rated G
No Pairings         In The Laughter of a Small Boy   Six-year-old Ben
Fraser sometimes didn't know where he belonged since his mother's death.
He knew his father grasped onto him at times like a lifeline that had been
thrown to him from a sailing ship. His own little world was for the most
part silent and gray and he felt no lifeline thrown his way. His
grandmother tried to soothe him as best she could. Since the day she spent
holding him while she worked around her kitchen with him pressed and
clinging to her shoulder he had begun to respond to her.    Dr. Jacobs,
the only doctor for 200 miles, had visited the Fraser cabin quite a bit in
the last month. The improvement he saw was slow, but it was there he
assured Robert Fraser's parents. Time was still what was needed for the
grieving Frasers. Martha Fraser's eyes narrowed in thought for some time
after the young man left. "He doesn't quite know what to do, so he says
wait," she thought to herself. She decided to let matters take a slightly
different turn. She was worried, fearing that if left too long in their
grieving both her boys would be lost to her.   After discussing her idea
with her husband, she began to push Ben away, leaving him to the comfort
he could get from his father. Her husband was skeptical of Martha's idea,
but decided anything at this point was worth a try. They were both worried
for the sanity of their son and grandson. It was well into the second day
after Martha began pushing Ben away a bit that she noticed Robert
beginning to pay attention to the small boy when he tried to hang on his
grandmother's arm only to be pushed gently away so she could continue
making dinner. About the third time Martha pushed the crying child away
with a totally breaking heart, Robert rose from his chair and approached
his young son. He picked the child up and went out on the front porch with
him held under his arm like a sack.    Martha stood with her hands tightly
pressed to his lips wanting desperately to listen to what was going on out
on the porch. She took a few quiet steps in that direction and halted as
she heard Robert's voice singing to the boy. A relieved sigh escaped her
as she turned and returned to work.   But no one was ready for the change
in Robert that seemed to take place overnight. One morning he woke up,
dressed and shaved (which he hadn't done since Caroline's death) and was
out in the kitchen before anyone else. He started up the cook stove and
put water on to boil. He broke out some bacon from his mother's larder and
began to prepare breakfast for his family.    The smell of coffee woke
Martha around the time she would normally be rising to get her kitchen
filled with breakfast smells. Rising quietly she pulled on her robe and
went out into the kitchen. Robert had set the table for them all and was
peeling a banana and placing small slices of banana on a bowl of oatmeal.
Martha went quickly to her son and saw that he was designing a smiley face
of banana pieces on top of the oatmeal.    "Robert Fraser," she said with
a smile. "You're going to spoil that boy. Time enough for coddling."
Belying the sound of the words she put her arms around her son and hugged
him to her. "I'm glad your back."    "It's hard, mother."   "I know son."
  "I'm going back to work soon." he stated plainly.   "I know that too." 
  "Ben's going to need you, you know."   "He needs you more."   "I can't."
he said in a simple whisper.   "You need him just as he needs you," she
said with a bite to her words.   "Too much, I fear."    "He needs you, not
us." His mother turned from him and looked towards the rising morning sun.
   "That's as maybe, Mother. But I need to be back at work. I need it." he
turned and walked down the hall to the room Ben slept.   Walking quietly
into the room, Robert stopped and stood for a moment looking down at the
sleeping child. "Caroline, he's so beautiful." He whispered with a look to
the room's ceiling. Leaning over he scooped the boy up into his arms and
kissed his hair quickly.    "Wake up young man." He said with soft smile. 
  Ben opened his eyes to find his father's face next to his. He laid his
sleepy head back on his father's shoulder as he was carried out to the
cabin kitchen. His father set him down at the table in front of the bowl
of oatmeal and turned away to talk to his mother as he poured out his
coffee.    The smiley face looked up at Ben and he couldn't smile. He
watched his father walking around the kitchen and slowly paced up his
spoon. If his dad was going to try then so would he.      Spring was in
the air several days later as the Fraser family set on the family cabin
porch. Ben sat on the steps, his chin balanced on his hands as he watched
his grandfather's dogs playing by the shed not far from the cabin. In
other times, Ben would have been down there playing too, but not now.
Martha was sewing as she rocked in her whicker chair. Robert and his
father were playing a game of chess.    "I leave soon, Dad."    "I know
son. It's going to be hard on young Ben."   "I know. I'm counting on you
and Mother."   "Counting on us to cover your walking away you mean."   "A
Mountie is what I am, I need that."   "Course you do."   "Nuff said then."
    A car's engine could be heard coming down the forest road. The adult's
on the porch stilled their movements, the boy didn't notice. In a very
short time Buck Frobisher's car pulled up in front of the cabin. He got of
the car and smiled at the family before him. "Things are looking better,"
he thought.    Martha rose from her rocker and waited for Buck at the top
of the porch steps. She gave him a quick hug. "Did you bring it?" she
asked.	  "Yes, I found what you wanted. It's in a box on the front seat."
The tall man leaned to whisper in her ear. "Boy doesn't know?"   "No, he
don't and neither does his father."   "Ahhh." Buck smiled. "Who gives Ben
the box?"   "You do, please." Martha stated simply as she quietly handed
him an envelope. "Thanks for bringing it for me."   "Sure." Buck pocketed
the envelope without checking its contents. "Don't you want to give it to
him? Or perhaps..." he nodded the Fraser men playing chess.   "No. I want
it to come from you. I have my reasons." She looked at him with a
determined glint in her eye. If that's what she wanted, he would do it.
Few people turned down Martha Fraser; she was hard as granite when she
wanted her own way.   Buck went back to his car and brought a fair sized
box back to the porch. He set it down next to Ben and sat on the other
side of it. Soft scratching sounds rocked the box. Ben let his eyes slide
to the box but didn't move his body or head. He turned his eyes away only
to look again when the sounds coming from the box became louder.   Buck
watched the boy's tongue lick his lip as he tried to remain impassive to
the box. Maybe Martha is right he thought. "Hi Ben." Ben was by no means a
frail boy, but right now he looked fragile and Buck sucked in his breath
as he noted the haunted look in the boy's eyes as the child finally looked
up at him.   "Hi."   One single word Buck thought in sadness remembering
the chattering boy that used to be Ben. "Hmm your dad and I have to return
to duty soon. I can't take care of what's in this box. I thought maybe
you'd be the right person. Could you do that for me?"   Ben looked at the
box and then at Buck, with a puzzled look on his face. "What about Julie? 
  Ok, three words more Buck thought. "Julie's a might young for this job."
  "Oh." The boy's blue eyes settled on the box, as it seemed to rock back
and forth on the porch.    "Yea, I already talked to your Grandma, and she
says it's ok with her if you do this for me."   "Ok"   Buck glanced up at
Martha and shrugged his shoulders. He sure didn't know how to get the boy
to open the box. Matters were taken out of his hand when the box began
furiously shaking and inching dangerously close to the edge of the top
step actually hitting Ben in the elbow.    The boy had no choice but to
look at the box now. He scowled at the boxes intrusion into his personal
space. He looked inquiringly up at Buck who gave him a smile and a nod.
The box wasn't sealed but was closed in onto itself by interlocking the
lid sides. Ben reached carefully over and pulled by sliding his fingers
into an opening. Something wet touched his fingers as he pulled. He felt
sharp pricks on his fingers as the lid opened.	  Inside the box was a
10-week-old puppy. Its parentage was certainly easily discerned as one of
the husky breeds. The puppy was black and silver with one blue and one
brown eye. One ear flopped over his face, the other erect. Ben looked
inside then looked away to put his head on his chin again. The puppy
cocked its little head and jumped against the side of the box. It was
plainly irritated to be ignored. Sharp little yaps were soon ringing over
the porch.    "Ben. Aren't you even going to look at the puppy?" Martha
knelt down by the box. "Yes, I can see how this puppy would be too much
Julie. This puppy would drive her kitten crazy." She smiled as walked
away. "Come in for coffee and pie." Martha said as she entered the cabin
door.   Turning back to the puppy Ben sighed. "I'll take care of him sir."
  "Well, see that you do." Buck smiled a bit. "He needs walking, brushing,
food, water. I'd like to see him leash trained when I come back. I'm not
sure if he'll make the team but if you give him a good start he has a
chance." Buck watched closely but Ben didn't stir.    Buck rose and
followed the adults into the cabin where Martha was busy getting out
coffee cups.  The four adults sat down awkwardly at the table, each one
trying not to pay attention to what may or may not be happening outside. 
    The puppy finally knocked over the box and tumbled down the first step
to land by Ben's feet. The box continued rolling off the porch. Ben rose
and leaned over to retrieve the box, his face low to the ground. The puppy
took this as a challenge and bounced off the porch steps to attack the boy
by licking his face. Ben pushed the puppy away as he reached for the box
one more time. The puppy gave a fierce yap and jumped at Ben grabbing a
piece of Ben's hair with it's teeth as it stood on it's hind feet before
bouncing away from Ben. The puppy was roundly built in shape but well able
to bounce away from the 6 year old. It sat with a puppy grin, tongue
lolling out of the side of its mouth.    Ben stood up with the box in his
hand his eyes watching the puppy. He took the box and set it back up on
the porch. Planting himself back on the top step, Ben watched the puppy
stare at him. Ben was used to older dogs. Both his father and grandfather
kept sled teams. He cocked his head and tried to imagine the puppy as an
adult dog. The young puppy began waddling around the area in front of the
Fraser's cabin; it's little black nose to the ground. Giving a puppy yawn
the little thing plopped in the grass and began rolling around content to
be free of its traveling box.    Picking up the box from the steps Ben
went down the steps and approached the puppy. When Ben was two steps away
from the puppy, it growled and flipped to his podgy feet. As he walked
Ben's shoelaces flopped on his shoes, a clear invitation to the puppy to
attack his feet. With a ferocious growl the puppy landed on Ben's feet
tripping the boy and bringing him down to the ground. The puppy
tenaciously grabbed onto the laces of Ben's left shoe and pulled with all
its might, actually shaking Ben's foot. The boy was astonished at the
strength in the little puppy and watched fascinated as it pulled and
tugged and dragged on his shoe. Slowly Ben began to let a small smile
curve it's way on his face.   Buck had risen from the table to look out
the door, the suspense more than he could take. He watched Ben letting the
puppy haul away at his shoe. When the boy began to smile, he turned away
from the door and approached Martha. "He's smiling."   Martha burst into
tears and put her hands over her eyes. The men in the room watched her,
nervously wondering if they should do something for her. It wasn't many
minutes before she daubed at her eyes with her napkin and smiled brightly
at her husband. She nodded her head to Buck, but said not a word to them
as she lifted her cup and took a sip of hot coffee.   Later that night,
after Ben had gone to sleep, his father entered the boy's bedroom with the
box, which held a sleeping puppy in it. Gently he set the box down and
laid an old rag inside next to the puppy and set up clock on the floor
next to the box. He watched his son sleep for a moment then tiptoed
quietly out.