Micheline Pendleton’s son Todd had let his beard grow in competition with his fellow riders and his mother had decided that it was appropriate for Ike to let his beard grow as well. After a few days of itching he became comfortable with the beard and didn’t miss the feel of Jasper Pendleton’s razor on his skin. It crossed his mind that possibly Mrs. Pendleton didn’t like the idea of his having control of a sharp object even if Marcus was supervising. He also wondered what Emma would think of him growing a beard.
As a result of his daily routine of walking and calisthenics Ike’s strength improved, but it only added to his restlessness. He tested the door when things were quiet and found that it was secured with a wooden bar that slid into iron brackets at each end. He found it easy enough to raise the bar by sliding his butter knife between two boards and carefully lifting it at each end. Once he had the bar free of its attachments he carefully lifted the door. The bar slid off the side and clattered to the ground when the door was opened to a point where Ike could make it through. From his position the sound of the bar falling was thunderous. He looked over the edge of the door to see if his activity had been discovered. From somewhere to the far side of the house he could hear what sounded like someone chopping wood, he hoped it might be Marcus and that the noise of the axe had covered for the noise of the bar falling. Ike looked and listened, straining to hear any evidence that his attempt to escape had been noticed.
“Go on Ikey, I don’ think they heard you.” Johnny said in a breathless whisper.
“Why are you whispering?” Ike replied in his head in a similar manner.
“Force of habit, I guess. This is kinda’ excitin’ to me, you been pretty boring lately.”
“I wonder where Mrs. Pendleton is.” Ike thought.
“Maybe she’s on the other side of the house puttin’ posies on my grave.” Johnny replied, still whispering, but giggling.
There were clothes on a line behind the house, clothes that could only be those of a very large man. Ike walked over and unpinned a pair of pants and a shirt that would have covered he and Johnny both. He was about to go behind the smokehouse to change into Marcus clothing when he spied the door of the cellar yawning at him, advertising that something was amiss. He eased the door and its bar back into position and then headed back to the smokehouse. Just as he was about to reach the cover of the building his bare foot found a sliver of broken glass that penetrated his right foot just far enough to send a bolt of pain up his leg. He stifled a scream and hopped on the other foot to the shade of the outbuilding and pulled out the glass. The cut wasn’t too deep, and he had other things to concern himself with.
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 r
are 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.
“Who, who’s there?” he croaked just before Micheline Pendleton
’s knee contacted his crotch with as much force as she could muster. The man’s high pitched squeal ended abruptly as the heavy end of Ike’s crutch connected with his skull, shattering the back of it and shoving bits of bone and fragments of wood into George’s brain. He fell forward onto the woman and the front of his head thumped hers and knocked her senseless.
Ike stood in the ray of moonlight panting.
“Boy Ikey, you’re a regular panther when you get your blood up. I figured you was rusty at fightin’ after bein’ down here for so long. You killed both of them fellers.”
“You sure?”
“If there’s anythin’ I know for sure these days it’s who’s dead. I saw em come out a lookin’ all confused an’ sorry like. I couldn’t help myself an’ I hollered “Boo!” and they both skedaddled to I don’t know where, maybe I don’t want to know…… but they sure are dead. If they ever was a pair that needed killin’ I think they was. Good thing you don’t need that crutch anymore ‘cause you broke the head clean off of it.
“Johnny……I didn’t mean to kill them, I just wanted to keep them from hurting her any more….I just wanted to stop them from burning……”
“Well you stopped em for good Ike, but you didn’t have a lot of choice, they woulda killed her after they had their way with her a time or two and if they had seen you they wouldn’t have let you live either. I’m afraid they might have done away with old Marcus.”
A sudden realization washed over Ike, for the first time since he had been carried down to this cellar there was no door or no large black man between him and freedom. He looked up the steps through the open door and at the moon that seemed to be staring down at him, asking him to come out. He loped to the top of the stairs and reveled in being free of the cellar for the first time in months. He was free! Looking back down the stairs he saw Mrs. Pendleton form lying defenseless on his bed, with a dead man on top of her.
The Cellar Page 5
