At first glance, one might be tempted to label Benton Fraser's upbringing by his grandparents as cruel. Never a toy on his birthday! A toybox full of seditious writings! That's definitely unusually austere for a child of today's world. However, I would suggest that his upbringing was unique and loving, rather than maliciously cruel. I believe his grandparents raised him in keeping with their own individual culture, if you will.

We're not given many specific details about his life with his grandparents, except that they kept an extensive library of books which Benton did, over the years, make a concerted effort to make his way through. It's implied that his grandmother was a firm, practical disciplinarian (she "tanned his hide" for boiling his good shoe for food when he was lost, afraid, and hungry), and that she instilled in him his code of values (as well as excellent boxing skills!). She also visited him from the grave while he was recovering in the hospital in "Letting Go" to bring him some jammies and to make sure that he didn't malinger. This suggests that she did, indeed, show him love but was stern with him when she felt it was for his own good. We also know that she was a strong, self-sacrificing woman, as evidenced by the story about how she saved the children of the village during a fire.

Although adult Benton occasionally admits to loneliness as a child and hints that he would have preferred a more typical childhood, he also appears to appreciate the unique education and experience he received growing up the way he did. He exhibits pride in his grandparents, not resentment or hate as would be expected if he had been treated cruelly. In short, his upbringing made him the loving, selfless, courteous, well-read, disciplined man he is today! (Yes, and lonely....I'm still working on that one!)

Disclaimer: Alliance teased us with these characters and a passing mention of this event in young Ben's life. These are only my imaginings, and any resemblance to actual fictional characters or events is purely coincidentally intentional.

Drama/Humor; Rated G; Minor Spoilers for "One Good Man" and "The Promise"

I AM THE WALRUS

by Mary

There it was first thing next morning, staring me in the face from the bedside table where Grandma had laid it after putting me to bed. My birthday present. And was it the toy bulldozer I had asked for? No. In fact, it wasn't a toy of any kind. It was a book. A boring, grown-up book. No pictures, no story. Just words. Words that, for the most part, meant nothing to a six- year old. What were Grandma and Grandpa thinking? I wondered, as I laid in bed glaring resentfully at the tome which, by all rights, should have been a shiny new toy bulldozer.

It had to be obvious from the moment I held it in my hands that a book of any kind had not been at the top of my birthday wish list. And this particular book, even if I had ever heard of it, wouldn't have made the list in any way, shape, or form. I couldn't bring myself to say 'thank you' despite the fact that I knew very well it was not only expected, but demanded.

"May I be 'scused?" I asked with a scowl as I laid the book on the kitchen table. I was heartbroken and didn't want to start crying right there at the table.

"Don't you want some birthday cake, Honey?" Grandma asked.

"Uh-uh," I shook my head.

"You're not sick, are you?" Grandma reached over and felt my forehead and my cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Uh-uh. I'm tired." Now that should have been a dead giveaway that all was not well in the world of Benton Fraser. A little boy never admits to being tired.

"Oh, well, then you run along to bed. Grandpa and I will be right in to say goodnight."

I left the still half-wrapped birthday present on the table and ran out of the room. As I did so, I heard Grandpa say, "Don't take it to heart, Grandma. The boy's missing his Mum and Dad is all. Only natural he would, especially on his birthday."

Mum would have given me the bulldozer. I was sure of that. Only Mum wasn't here. I'd been shipped off to Grandma and Grandpa's a few weeks earlier when she and Dad took off on one of Dad's criminal hunts. Usually Mum stayed home with me while Dad was away being a Mountie, but every once in a while Dad convinced her to tag along. I guess he missed her. I, on the other hand, was just a little kid, so spending time with me certainly couldn't compare to his exciting life as a Mountie. I saw him maybe two or three months out of the year, but there were no guarantees. Not even for birthdays.

It was a warm, sunny day, by Inuvik standards, so right after breakfast I was on my way out the door.

"Hold on a minute, Benton," my grandmother called from the kitchen. "Where are you headed, Honey?"

"To the beach, Grandma," I called back, halfway out the door. The beach was less than a mile away, just down the hill.

"Fossil hunting again?"

"Uh huh."

"Where's Thomas Paine?" she asked, appearing from the kitchen.

"Who?"

"The book we gave you. Thomas Paine's 'The American Crisis.' Where is it?"

"In my room." I couldn't imagine what Thomas Paine had to do with the price of cheese.

"Go get it. Take it with you."

"To the beach?"

"There isn't a finer place to read a good book than at the seashore."

"But I'm gonna look for fossils," I reasoned. "Grandpa says I might even find human ones if I look hard enough!"

"Don't you dare come back here with human remains!" Grandma fairly screamed at me. "Do you hear me, Benton?"

"Okay, Grandma. I won't. I promise." Grandma wasn't squeamish, mind you. But there had recently been speculation that evidence of a lost civilization might be found around our village. Grandma was adamant that I let the proper authorities handle any such discoveries. I tried to dash out of the house, but she seized the back of my shirt and hauled me back in.

"Just to be on the safe side, go fetch that book. You've done enough fossil hunting lately. It won't kill you to spend the morning doing a little honest reading."

That's what she thought! There wasn't a thing in the world that I could imagine hating more at that instant than the thought of reading that detestable book!

"But, Grandma..."

"If you want to go to the beach, you will take the book with you. Now, that's final, Benton. I don't want to hear any arguments."

So what could I do? I had to take Thomas Paine with me. But there was no way she could make me read it.

By late morning, the sun was burning quite bright, and the beach was dotted with sunbathing walruses. Fossils were proving scarce, so I sat down on a rock, opened my backpack, and pulled out Thomas Paine. I realized the book had better look like it'd been to the beach or the jig would be up when Grandma inspected it, as she was sure to do.

I opened Thomas Paine and looked at the first line. I recognized maybe half the words. Some of the others I sounded out. But I was at a loss to make sense of the sentence as a whole. I glanced at the rest of the first paragraph, and it was clear that it was just more of the same. I began to wonder if Grandma and Grandpa had mistaken Thomas Paine for some other book - one with kid words and a story about little, furry animals that live in the forest. Yes, that could be the only explanation. I surely couldn't be expected to understand any of this blithering.

As I carefully dusted Thomas Paine with a sprinkling of beach dirt and gleefully smudged my dirty fingerprints over the pages, I suddenly became aware that I was not alone. A very hungry-looking walrus had propped itself up on my rock and seemed to be begging for its lunch. What do walruses like to eat? I wondered with not inconsiderable concern for my safety, and then my eyes fell upon the only thing I had to offer, besides myself. Without a second thought, I tossed Thomas Paine to the ground and was relieved as I watched the walrus devour my birthday present. Indeed, I was quite gratified by its tragic fate.

Those look like Grandma's shoes, I thought to myself when I suddenly noticed a pair of feet standing beside the busy walrus. Oh dear! Those are Grandma's shoes!

"Benton, what's going on here?"

"Nothing, Grandma," I answered as I jumped off my rock and stood between Grandma and the walrus.

"You're late for lunch. Did you lose track of the time again?"

"Um, I guess so," I mumbled, using my feet to try to bury the scraps of Thomas Paine that were strewn about.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Come away from that walrus. That's a wild animal, not a pet."

I couldn't move or she'd see what...

"Are you hiding something, Benton?" she interrupted my thoughts.

"No....No, no..."

Grandma stood there silently, with her arms crossed in front of her chest, boring into me with her penetrating stare which left me defenseless.

"....yes," I finally admitted. I slowly stepped to one side of the walrus and bowed my head.

"What on Earth?" Grandma knelt down beside me and carefully picked up one of the scraps of Thomas Paine and read it. She then turned to me, still kneeling, and held out the piece of paper. "Is this your Thomas Paine, Benton?"

Somehow, I hadn't actually thought of it in that way before. But I didn't think it would be wise to smart-mouth my grandmother at that particular moment. "Yes, Grandma."

"Would you like to tell me how the walrus got ahold of it?"

Not really, were the words that rang through my head, but I answered truthfully, "I gave it to him."

"Why did you do that?"

Now, 'why?' is a question little boys love to ask but hate to answer. My mind raced as I tried to think of an answer that would be honest without being too honest. Just as Grandma seemed about to lose her patience with me, I blurted out "'Cause I was finished with it."

"I see," she said very simply, giving me another penetrating stare. "I think you'd better come with me, Benton," she ordered, and she grabbed my hand and dragged me up the hill toward home.

I never understood why, but grown-ups always walked extra fast when they were mad at you. I had to run the whole way to keep up with Grandma, and I was panting by the time we reached the house. She, on the other hand,...well, I don't think she breathed all the way home.

"Where's the fire?" Grandpa asked as we passed him working at the chicken coop.

Grandma stopped dead in her tracks, then marched me back to Grandpa.

"Our grandson has just fed his birthday present, the one you went all the way to Edmonton to find especially for him, to a walrus."

"A walrus, eh?" he said to me, confused. "Now, why should you do a thing like that, Son?"

I shrugged my shoulders and refused to look at him.

"He says he was finished with it," Grandma explained for me.

"Finished with it? Oh, dear, no! You can't ever finish with a book, Son. You'll learn that some day."

"He's going to learn it real quick, if I have anything to say about it!" Grandma threatened as she resumed her sprint into the house, pulling me after her.

"Remember he's just a boy, Grandma! Not one of your students. Don't be too harsh with him," Grandpa yelled after her. But I feared Grandpa's words never reached her.

I'd never been in any real trouble with Grandma. In fact, I couldn't remember her ever having raised her voice to me. So, I didn't really know what to expect when she took me into the study and closed the door behind us. However, the fact that I hadn't ever been allowed into the study before seemed to signal that this was a momentous occasion. Grandma pulled a chair up close to the desk and firmly guided me into it.

"Do you understand why I've brought you in here, Benton?" Grandma asked calmly, as she leaned against the desk.

I was still out of breath and somewhat in awe of her, so I just hung my head, praying that she wasn't as angry as she seemed to be.

"You're old enough to know the difference between right and wrong, aren't you?"

I nodded, avoiding her eye. I decided to take this opportunity to survey this hallowed, secret room.

"And which was your behavior this morning, then, right or wrong?"

I shrugged my shoulders, still avoiding eye contact.

"Don't lie to me, Benton. I think you know very well which it was."

I made no response, and continued to show more interest in the surroundings than in her.

"Benton, look at me and pay attention to what I'm saying to you!"

Needless to say, I immediately obeyed.

"I am very angry with you, Benton Fraser!"

Oh dear! Two names! Just like Mum when she was gonna...

"Are you gonna..." I started to ask, but hesitated to finish.

"Am I going to what?"

"Nothing." It was at the tip of my tongue to ask if she was gonna spank me, but just in case she didn't know about spankings, I figured this was no time to educate her.

"What you did was very wrong. You know that, don't you?"

I nodded. Well, how could I deny it? It was obvious I knew it was wrong. I had tried to hide the evidence, after all.

"Then why did you do it?"

I couldn't hold back any longer, so I let her have it. "I asked for a toy bulldozer for my birthday, Grandma, not for Thomas Paine."

"Do you expect to get everything in life that you ask for?"

"Just the bulldozer. I didn't want anything else." She apparently had no idea how disappointed and hurt I was to receive such a stupid birthday present.

"And you think that gives you license to destroy a perfectly good book that had been entrusted to your care?"

The obvious answer finally came to me. "He was hungry." How could Grandma possibly argue with logic like this.

"Who was hungry?" she snapped with irritation.

"The walrus."

"The walrus was hungry for Thomas Paine's 'The American Crisis?'"

"I guess so. He ate it." He was certainly hungrier for it than I was!

Grandma sighed and shot me a very disapproving glare. Perhaps my answers were becoming a bit too bold but, as I saw it, I was only giving her her just desserts.

"That book was a gift from your grandfather and me. Aside from the fact that such willful destruction of a book is sinful, I would have thought you'd show more regard for our feelings. Obviously you have no understanding of the concept of gift-giving."

"I woulda had a lot more fun with a bulldozer..." But my feelings didn't seem to enter into this.

"I'm talking about gift giving, Benton, not gift receiving. Have you ever given anyone a gift?"

"I don't have any money."

"You don't need money. A gift doesn't come from the store shelves, it comes from the heart. A handful of freshly-picked wildflowers or a simple kiss on the cheek would be priceless gifts if given with love. Gifts are about giving, Ben, not about receiving."

I didn't totally understand this, but it sounded like she was saying she bought the book for herself, not for me.

"I'm sorry, Grandma. Did you want Thomas Paine back?" If only I had known it was that easy!

"No, that's not what I meant," she said, sounding a little impatient with me.

I honestly wasn't trying to be obtuse. I looked at her with a sincere quizzical expression, hoping not to provoke any more anger in her.

"Let me put it this way. We didn't give you a book for your birthday..."

"You didn't?" Now I was really confused!

"Don't interrupt...No, we didn't. We gave you a part of ourselves. Your grandfather and I have a special love for books. We were hoping to be able to pass on to you the joy we find in reading. We wanted to give you something that would have a much longer-lasting impact on your life than would a frivolous toy."

Grandma paused, as if she wanted me to say something. But I didn't know what to say. I wanted the frivolous toy.

"'What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value.'"

Well, I couldn't argue with that. Not even if I wanted to.

"Do you realize how much you hurt me and Grandpa by destroying our gift to you? You've essentially told us that you're not interested in accepting what we have to offer."

"I didn't mean to tell you that, Grandma. I thought Thomas Paine was a mistake."

"A mistake?"

"I thought you got the wrong book by mistake. It was boring. I didn't know most of the words in it."

"If you don't know the words, how can you say it's boring? Don't judge a book by its cover, Ben, or you'll miss out on a lot."

"The cover was even more boring than the words," I whined rather insolently, as I looked at the floor. Nothing she said was gonna convince me that a toy bulldozer wouldn't have been a far better present.

Grandma was silent until I finally looked up to see her glaring at me very severely. I decided it probably wasn't a good idea to make her any madder at me than she already was.

"Just joking, Grandma," I lied. She didn't believe me for a second, of course.

"This is not a time for jokes! What would your Mum and Dad say if they knew you had destroyed a perfectly good book just because you thought it was boring?"

"I think Mum woulda got me the bulldozer," I mumbled stubbornly.

"That wasn't my question, young man! And, I'm warning you, if I hear one more word from you about a toy bulldozer, you are going to be sorry!"

That was a familiar threat! And, in my experience, not one that it was prudent to disregard.

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I don't know what you want me to say," I answered earnestly.

"Did your Mum and Dad raise you to show such disrespect for your possessions?"

"I don't think so," I whispered.

"No, I don't think so, either. Your behavior was inexcusable, and I'm afraid you're going to have to be punished."

"I won't do it again, Grandma. I promise." A tear ran down my face and Grandma crouched before me and wiped it away.

"I'm glad to hear that, but it doesn't erase what you did, does it?" she said quite gently, with her hand on my shoulder.

I shook my head and tried to hold back the tears that were flooding my eyes.

"You have to learn that when you misbehave, there will be consequences," she said as she lifted me from the chair and sat down. She took my hands in hers and turned me to face her. "Now, while I can't overlook your misbehavior, I am inclined to be lenient with you since this is the first time I've had to seriously reprimand you."

Well, I had no clue what 'reprimand' and 'lenient' meant, but from the way she then turned me over her knee, I had a feeling they meant this was gonna hurt. Grandma pulled down my trousers and gave me five or six good smacks across my bottom with her open hand, and I thanked God she apparently didn't know about the wooden spoon method. This didn't really hurt all that much and seemed a small price to pay for exacting revenge for the so-called birthday present.

"Let this be fair warning to you, Benton," she said after standing me back up before her. "If I ever again discover that you have willfully destroyed your own, or anyone else's property, I'll tan your hide properly, with the same wooden spoon I used to use on your daddy. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Grandma," I replied, wiping tears from my face. So, not only did she know about spankings, she was apparently an old pro. The threat of that ancient wooden spoon imbued Grandma's warning with eerie persuasive impact. But little boys will forget such warnings in the heat of the moment, as I did several months later when I was lost, alone, and hungry and the only available food source seemed to be my oxfords. Well, my left oxford. I learned then, the hard way, that Grandma did not make idle threats.

"You may go eat your lunch, and then I want you to go to the library and pick out a book to take to your room. After you've read for an hour, come to me and we'll discuss it. Copy down any words you don't know, and we'll work on those."

I gave her my best 'do I have to?' look, but to no avail.

"Would you rather I picked out a book for you?"

I shook my head and pouted.

"Go and eat your lunch. It's on the table. But first you'd better go apologize to Grandpa for your thoughtlessness."

"'Kay, Grandma." I stopped at the doorway and turned back toward her. I just couldn't resist one more little dig, even at the risk of more correction at Grandma's hand. "You know, Grandma, a bulldozer woulda been a lot harder for a walrus to eat than a book was."

We just stared at each other for what seemed like forever, as my little heart raced with anxious anticipation. Grandma had said I would be sorry if I mentioned the bulldozer again, and so I was. I had surely asked for it now. She once again gave me that penetrating glare, and I countered with the most contrite expression I could muster.

"Would you like to go to your room without any lunch?" she finally asked.

"No."

"Then go do as I told you without another word of complaint."

I nodded in compliance. Grandma could be merciful, after all. Before I left the room, I walked over to her and planted a sincere kiss on her cheek. As I turned to leave, I thought I spied the edges of her mouth turning up, as if she would smile.

As much as I loved Grandma and Grandpa, I hoped from now on birthdays could be spent with Mum and maybe even Dad. But we don't always get what we wish for, do we?

THE END

maryspen@aol.com