The Cellar (6 page)

The shirt hung on Ike and the pants were
not about to stay up on their own, he fashioned a crude gallus out of a piece
of old rope he found and managed to hitch the pants up to a point where he
could move and not lose them.  Johnny was having a good deal of fun at Ike’s
expense as he tried to clothe himself.  When he thought he was covered well
enough, he peeked around the side of the smokehouse and still saw no one.  His
heart was beating so fast and hard that he could hear it in his ears as he
gazed around and tried to decide on a plan of further action. 

“When in doubt, head north!”  Johnny
said.  With no better idea to counter with Ike did just that.  He had
positioned himself with the smokehouse between himself and the sound of the
axe, which to his delight was still coming rhythmically.  He darted to the east
side of the house, which was the farthest from the chopping and still the axe
blows came steadily.  He ducked under a window as he eased along the side of
the house and peered around the corner, only to find himself staring into the
twin eyes of a double barreled shotgun.  Mrs. Pendleton had no discernible
expression as she walked Ike backwards over the last few yards he had gained in
his quest for freedom.

“If you shoot me, Your son Todd may suffer
for it!”  Ike blurted out.

 He was suddenly angry and desperate to
get the upper hand on the woman.  They both came to a stop at the back corner
of the house and she lowered the gun slightly.

“If I shoot you in the foot, he might just
avoid combat or even get to come home early.”  She said pointing the gun at
Ike’s left foot.  His own pulse pounded in his ears as she cocked the right
hammer. 

“Please don’t, I’ll go back down in the
cellar!”  Ike said, disgusted at the desperation in his own voice, but
convinced that the woman would maim him for life.

“Ikey, she’s bluffin’, she won’t shoot
you, she think’s she’ll be hurtin’ her boy!”

“How can you be so sure Johnny?”  Ike
responded in his mind.  Before Johnny could respond the woman spoke again.

“If you manage to get away from here and
get captured by the Confederates, they are likely to kill you for a spy or
imprison you in a place where you could die of disease.  If you get back to
your own army, you would likely go right back to combat and you could get
killed there.  A few pieces of buckshot in your foot might not be so bad Mr.
Lowery.”  She said sighting down the barrel at his foot.  Ike closed his eyes
and prayed.

“Ikey, she’s bluffin’ I’m tellin’ you, do
you see any percussion caps on that ol’ shotgun?”

Just as Ike was opening his eyes to see if
Johnny was right a pair of huge hands with a grip like a vise encircled his
upper arms.  “You don’ look so good in my clothes dere sodjur.”  Marcus
rumbled.

“Thank you Marcus, I didn’t relish having
to clean the buckshot out of his foot.”  Mrs. Pendleton said, easing the hammer
down on her shotgun. 

As Johnny had said there were no caps on
the nipples of the shotgun, but it was too late for Ike to get away from
Marcus.  Ike was about to growl out that he had seen through the ruse, but
Johnny urged him not to speak of it.  “You shoulda’ took my word for it, but I
don’t think you should let her know that you know it, just in case it happens
again.”

As Marcus was walking Ike back toward the
cellar Micheline Pendleton let out a shriek that made Ike and his captor both
jump.  “Your right foot!  You are bleeding from your right foot!”  She wailed. 
Ike had forgotten having stepped on the glass, but he was bleeding enough to
leave a trail.

“I stepped on a
piece of glass I’m afraid.”  Ike said instinctively trying to express
contrition.

Mrs.  Pendleton stooped and examined the foot while Marcus
easily lifted Ike off of the ground. When she was convinced that the damage was
slight she stood up, faced Ike and slapped him with surprising force.  “Don’t
ever do that again!  Todd may well also have wounded himself. If he gets an
infection and loses a foot….or worse, I will see to it that you suffer.  Do you
understand?”

Ike was angry now and glared at his
assailant, which earned him another slap.  Marcus moved Ike away from Mrs.
Pendleton before she could slap him again.  It was a bitter relief to be
returned to the cellar. 

“Good going there Ikey, you turned the
other cheek for sure.”  Johnny chuckled, “She slapped you so hard, I even
kinda’ felt it.”

Marcus was gentle but insistent as he
shepherded his charge down the stairs.  He handed Ike the night shirt that had
been abandoned by the smokehouse and retrieved his own clothing.  Ike was given
soap, water, a linen cloth, and some ointment to put on his wounded foot.  No
supper was delivered that evening and it was several days before Mrs. Pendleton
returned to his quarters.

A weight of some sort was added to the
door.  Ike tested the new obstacle by displacing the bar with his butter knife
again but the weight was far too much for him to budge.   After a few attempts
at heaving the door open with his shoulder Ike gave it up.  He went back to
reading until he realized that he had left the bar out of position.  Terror of
his latest attempt at escape being discovered made him shiver and he did so
until he was able to slide the bar back down with the knife.           

Squinting through the knothole and the
crack in the door gave him little view of the outside world and its goings on. 
He would try to catch glimpses when the door was held open, but Marcus filled
the opening nearly completely as he entered or exited and he didn’t feel it was
proper to try to peer around Mrs. Pendleton on the rare occasions that she
visited him in the daytime.

One evening as Ike was reading from the
light of his candle lamp there were loud voices in the house above.  Heavy
footsteps and a scuffle overhead disturbed his reading of Alexandre Dumas.  He
had been engrossed in the man’s novels and was feeling a kinship with “The Man
in the Iron Mask.” 

“What’s going on Johnny?”  He said,
unconcerned about how connected he had become with his invisible companion.

“Momma Pendleton has company, and I don’t
think they was invited.  Sit still now and let’s see what happens.  You might
just want to put that light out.”

Ike put down the book and blew out his
candle without questioning Johnny.  Men were shouting and tromping around in
the kitchen above his head and he heard Micheline Pendleton voice retorting in
anger.

“Old gal sounds like a wildcat when she’s
mad don’t she Ikey.  I guess you know that though.”  Johnny said, again in his
stage whisper.

“I wonder where Marcus is.”

“Don’t know, I cain’t see through that
floor any better than you can, but somehow I think Marcus is out of the picture
for a while.  If he was up and around he’d be right in the middle of that and
those fellers would be a gettin’ clobbered.”

The scuffling footsteps exited the kitchen
and Ike heard the noise approaching the door to his abode.  Instinctively he
grabbed his crutch and crouched in the corner under the steps where he wouldn’t
likely be seen when the door opened.

“Let’s just see what you got down there in
that cellar where your darky is always goin’” came a voice from outside.  “Hold
still there you bitch!” was followed by a loud slap and a moan from the woman.

Ike heard a savage grunt heard as the
weight was slid off the door.  The bar was roughly slid from its brackets and
clattered on the ground.  Lantern light brightened the interior of what had
been Ike’s comfortable world only minutes earlier, but left its occupant in
shadow in his corner under the steps.  A small figure in a filthy Union uniform
came down the steps with the lamp.  The man stared at the bed and the table and
chairs and called back up the steps to someone else.  “George¸ I don’t see any
silver or gold but you need to see this.  I think I know what she’s been doin’
down here with her Nigger.”   The man took a swig from a bottle he carried with
him.  Ike recognized the smell of Jasper Pendleton’s brandy.

Ike kept his back to the wall and just out
of the light.  He could see most of what was going on by peering between the
steps. The man with the lantern appeared to be a deserter.  The intruder was
fixated on the unmade bed and his fantasy of its purpose and didn’t look
around.  Ike grasped the shaft of his crutch like a club when the man backed up
beside the stairway to make room for his partner, who was carrying Mrs.
Pendleton down the steps.   The man had backed up uncomfortably close and Ike
was in no position to get a good swing. 

“Hold on Ikey, hold on a bit.” Johnny
cautioned.  His voice still came as a stage whisper and had the breathless
quality of someone watching a cockfight. 

Another shabby man in the remains of a
blue uniform came down the steps dragging the woman by her waist with one arm. 
He had her arms pinioned behind her with his other hand.  She looked around
wildly, glimpsing Ike but not looking in his direction.  She dropped her head
to her breast and sobbed loudly, keeping the men’s attention on her.

“Looks like she has her valuable’s hid
away somewhere else, but maybe if we’re real nice to her she might just fall in
love with one of us and show us where they might be, reckon Teddy?”

George threw Mrs. Pendleton down on the
bed and stood over her breathing heavily.  “I might not be as well fixed as
that big buck of yours old gal, but I reckon I’ll have me as good a time as he
ever had.  Maybe even better.  Let’s get them fine clothes off you and see some
of your other treasures.”

“You’ll pay for this when you are
caught!”  The woman rasped.

“We got so much to pay for if either side
catches us that what we do to you really don’t matter much at all.”  George
chuckled  “We don’t plan on gettin’ caught anyway, we’re gonna’ get away from
here when we’re done with you and head west and ride out this war.”

The woman screamed as George tore at her
blouse.  Ike was still cramped up in the corner unsure of the best way to
proceed.  Teddy was standing so close to him that he could barely move without
touching him and giving himself away. 

“Now if you could get that crutch over Teddy’s
head and up agin’ his windpipe you could choke the life out of him with him
between you and George.”  Johnny’s voice came in a hoarse whisper. “With any
luck he might drop that lantern and put the light out so George won’t know
what’s happeninin’.  Just be patient Ikey, he’ll move forward to get a look at
her titties any minute now and you can get in a better position. Now don’t you
be peekin’ yerself.” Johnny giggled.

Just as Johnny predicted Teddy crept
towards the bed as his companion ripped the bodice off the sobbing woman.  “She
looks pretty good for her age don’t she George.  I’ll be glad to watch while
you go first and get her warmed up for me.”  Teddy took one more pull on the
brandy and re-corked it.  He set the bottle down on the table, wiped his mouth
with his sleeve, and concentrated his efforts on watching every detail of the
performance.

The woman tried to rise up and resist her
attacker as he was undoing his belt and dropping his filthy pants.  He
backhanded her and put his right hand to her throat.  “Keep it up old girl, I
kinda like a little feistiness.” he said as he ripped her skirt and
underclothing piece by piece from her body.

“You mighta’ avoided this if you’d told us
where you hid your goods but since you didn’t this is what you get.”  George
said, breathing hard with excitement. “Now think about this while we’re havin’
our fun old gal.  If you don’t tell us after that we’re just gonna burn this
place down with you in it.  Maybe a good pokin’ will help your memory.”

Ike had been frightened and unsure of how
to proceed up to that moment.  Part of him wanted to watch the woman’s
degradation and let her suffer.  George’s threat of fire sent Ike into a rage. 
The image of flames from his dream reappeared so strongly that he nearly forgot
himself and his situation and moaned from the heat.  When the vision passed Ike
knew Johnny’s idea would work and he prepared himself to see it through.

Teddy inched forward a little more and Ike
saw his chance.  The little man was breathing heavily and was intent on
watching their victim’s defilement.  “Come on George, show her how a Yankee
does it.” He said, holding the lamp in one hand and his own crotch with the
other.

Just as Ike moved out from under the
stairs and whipped the crutch around the smaller man’s neck a puff of what felt
like a cool breeze blew out the fire in the lantern in the instant before it
fell to the floor.  The shaft of the crutch choked off Teddy’s air and he
wasn’t able to make much more than a nasal whimper, his hands came up and
fluttered at the shaft of the crutch on either side of his neck but he didn’t
have the strength to overcome his attacker.  The little man was scrawny to
begin with and too drunk on Jasper Pendleton’s brandy to resist much.  The reek
from Teddy’s long unwashed body was nauseating and added to Ike’s resolve.   Ike’s
arm muscles were strong from weeks of nervous exercise and he easily crushed
the struggling man’s windpipe.  When Teddy’s body relaxed a quick jerk from Ike
snapped his neck vertebrae.  The fresh corpse jittered briefly and then went
limp with only the crutch supporting it. 

George had grunted in surprise when
darkness enveloped him.  “Teddy, what are you doin’….. where’s the light? 
Teddy…Teddy...Teddy!”  He whined his accomplice’s name more feebly with each
repetition.

Once Ike felt the resistance leave Teddy he
shifted to his right and dropped his lifeless body to the floor, where it would
no longer be between him and his next quarry.  Clouds had been obscuring the
moon but they parted momentarily and a shaft of moonlight came through the open
door and illuminated George as he started to rise from the bed where his victim
lay panting.