Into The Deep
Page 4
“He is caring for the invalids,” Mr. Miller responded when asked of the doctor’s whereabouts. He helped himself to a large serving of ham.
“I hear another invalid died during the night,” said a man who introduced himself as Mr. Witherspoon.
All the giddiness Susanna felt that morning suddenly disappeared. “Another one died?” she said before clamping her lips shut, remembering her station.
“That makes three,” Mr. Miller went on, eating ravenously, as if the news only heightened his appetite. “The doctor isn’t certain what to think.”
“It appears to me this grand experiment of his is on the brink of failure,” said Mr. Witherspoon. “I, for one, feel the cottages inside the cave should be closed immediately.”
“Let’s not be so hasty,” another man ventured—a Mr. Grimes, with thinning hair and spectacles, who some said wanted to take over the hotel from Dr. Croghan so the doctor could concentrate on caring for the invalids. “No one knows how sick they were before they entered the cave. It may be that only a miracle from the Most High could have saved them.”
“I’m concerned about this news reaching the tourists,” Papa added. “We don’t want people fearful of going into the cave. It will decrease business. And we depend on visitors for their money.”
“But we are talking about people’s lives,” said Mr. Witherspoon. “They are worth more than money, are they not?”
Papa flushed. “Of course. I meant nothing to the contrary.”
Yes, you did, Papa, Susanna thought. That’s all you think about. I hear you and Luke talking. You’re always asking how to bring more tourists to the cave, how to convince them to spend their money on the tours and stay at the hotel. She looked down at her brown silk brocade dress. But if they did not make the money, how would she buy a new bonnet? A gossamer silk dress with rosettes across the neckline for a grand ball or any of the other fashions she had seen in the Godey’s Lady’s book? Yet she could not ignore the other side of this issue, which she had witnessed that one day—a day filled with grief that still sprung up in her heart, of the man named Jared who had lost his aunt, and then the chastisement he received as if it were his fault.
“I agree that we do have a business to run,” said Mr. Miller. “If we must close the underground cottages to preserve the cave and what it gives the visitors, then so be it. The tours can still proceed.”
“And what of the invalids in residence?” asked Mr. Grimes. “Where will they go?”
“They can go elsewhere. There are many places for them to recuperate in the South. But surely we cannot allow this to interfere with what we are doing here.”
“And what exactly are we doing?” Susanna piped up. “Besides seeing poor people suffer and die and others grieve while our pockets fill with money?”
Papa put down his fork, aghast. Mother stared and shook her head. “Susanna, hush up! Remember yourself.”
Susanna ignored her. “I hear what you gentlemen are saying. But is that all we are here to do? Make money?”
“You see?” Mr. Witherspoon said, pointing his fork at Susanna. “The young lady here knows that a gift of God shouldn’t turn us into stone. We must think of other ways to use it for the good of mankind and not simply for greed’s sake.”
No one answered for a time. The eggs and ham grew quite cold on the plates.
Luke finally stood to his feet. “I will tell you how it has been used for good. The cave helped our family out of a pit of poverty and put our feet on firm ground. And I, for one, don’t ever intend to go back to that kind of living again.”
Stillness fell over the table before everyone returned their attention to the food. Susanna looked down at her dress, remembering that time of poverty, the rags she had worn, the soup and cornbread that comprised her sustenance. But were her present luxuries worth the uneasiness she felt?
❧
“That was utterly delightful! Though I fear my shoes will never be the same.”
“Amazing,” another remarked, removing the dusty cave costume worn by the visitors to protect their fine garments from the dirt and mud that abounded in the cave. “How wonderful that we can go and see such wonders right beneath our feet. The Gothic Chapel. The Star Chamber. Washington’s Dome.”
Susanna was used to such exclamations from visitors who came out of the cave as they described the features they had seen. It seemed strange that she had not witnessed such wonders for herself. Her father had seen them. So had her brothers. But she hadn’t, nor had her mother. Though women did go on the tours, Mother felt it unseemly for Susanna to venture into such strange and dark places. And now, with the invalids living there the past few months, she had no desire to enter it. Yet the stories still proved intriguing. And hearing them for two years now, she felt as if she knew the cave anyway, despite having never seen the inside of it for herself.
“But I did not like seeing the sickly ones,” said the first woman, dabbing her face with a handkerchief. “The guide should have taken us on a different route rather than by the dreary cottages. Most dreadful to be in such a terrible state.”
Word soon came that yet another invalid had succumbed to the effects of the treatment. Rumors among the staff grew—wondering what Dr. Croghan would do with the sick, and what might become of the cave now that four invalids had died. At least from what Susanna could observe, the news of the deaths did not seem to stop the curious. They still arrived daily by stage and wagon, their faces expectant, willing to pay the necessary fee for either the short or long tours.
“I looked away,” said the friend. “How could I not? The dreadful sight made me so afraid.”
“Goodness, Margaret. There is nothing to fear. They are but poor, suffering souls. More dead than alive, I must say. I wonder if anything can be done for them?”
“I think they should leave. There are hardly any of them left. Moreover, the cave is so dark and filled with smoke. How one can live in such a place. . .I don’t understand.”
Susanna remained preoccupied by the ladies’ conversation, even as she tried to help a couple buy tickets for the tour. The ladies soon left to partake of the refreshments served after the tour was completed—hot tea and biscuits with plenty of jam. However, Susanna couldn’t help but think of the sickness and the people who seemed to get no better, despite the doctor’s best intentions to cure them. It seemed a curse loomed in the deep.
“I say, when does the next tour leave, young lady?”
Susanna shook her head and gazed into the eyes of a gentleman dressed in his fine frock coat and high collar. He leaned on an elaborately carved cane. “In about ten minutes, sir. If you would wait in the front parlor for the guides, they will escort you to the cavern entrance. And there are costumes, as well, to put on if you wish to protect your clothing.”
He gave a huff and left, mumbling about her inattentiveness and the sorry state of this hotel’s staff.
“Are you dreaming again, sister?”
Susanna glanced about to find Luke standing there, holding several lanterns, and ready to hand them to the guides for the tour. “Luke, did you hear the news? Another invalid died in the cave.”
He shrugged. “There is nothing that can be done, Susanna. It’s not our affair, after all. We are here to help the visitors.” He pulled a watch out of his vest pocket. “Please tell the visitors to gather in the hall so we might proceed. The guides are ready.” His eyes narrowed. “And don’t concern yourself with things you can’t change.”
Susanna sighed. How could he be so unfeeling? The one who had died belonged to someone dear, like the young man Jared who had lost his aunt. Could they not pause for just a moment and grieve? Or must they only do the tours without a thought given to the one who had left this world or for those who endured such loss? Mother and Papa would both reprimand her if they knew her thoughts, saying she dwelled too much on the whole affair. They would tell her that life and death were a part of this world. She must concentrate on her work and not let it affect h
er. If only she could. Maybe if she hadn’t gathered the flowers for that Jared fellow. Maybe if she hadn’t witnessed the pain in his eyes or heard the wail and chastisement of the older man who drove Jared out of his life. How does one forget that kind of pain?
Susanna returned to the drawing room to see if there were any others interested in the final tour of the day, when Luke came running back. “Where’s Papa?”
“I don’t know. What’s the matter?”
“There’s trouble afoot! Quick, we must find him.”
Susanna hastened for the living areas to find Mother mending a blouse. “Mother, Luke says there’s trouble. Do you know where Papa can be found?”
“No, I don’t. What kind of trouble?”
All at once, she heard shouts from outside. She ran for the window and peered out. Fear gripped her spirit. A party of riders on horseback had descended on the hotel. A brownish cloud arose from the many hooves plodding the dry ground.
“Oh no!” Mother whispered. “What shall we do?”
Susanna hastened for the door, even as Mother pleaded with her to stay. She came to the part of the hotel and the drawing room where the visitors sat huddled together, their eyes wide with fright. “What is happening?” they asked her at once.
“I don’t know. Please stay here inside the hotel until we find out.”
She slipped out of the room and through a side entrance to meet a burly man dismounting from his horse. He demanded that Mr. Miller send for Dr. Croghan. Papa was there as well as Luke, trying in vain to calm the irate man.
“He is in the underground cottages helping the invalids,” Mr. Miller told the man. “He should be back presently.”
“He’s not helping anyone!” another man shouted. “That cave is a place of death. Now you get him right now, or we’re going in there after him.”
Susanna stared at the man cradling the long barrel of a rifle. She managed to cover her mouth before a startled cry escaped. Upon the order from Mr. Miller, Luke raced down the steep hill toward the mouth of the cave to find Dr. Croghan. Many agonizing moments slipped by as the men stood before the hotel, their faces encased in hostile looks. Luke finally appeared with the doctor, who came running up the hill accompanied by several assistants.
“What seems to be the trouble?” asked Dr. Croghan.
“Plenty of trouble,” barked the man with the gun. “You killed my Mattie.”
“And my cousin, Charles,” said another, “in that cave you think helps the sick. They only die in there.”
“What are you going to do about it?” shouted a third man. A fourth nodded his head in agreement. The men began to pace about, their faces filled with wrath.
Dr. Croghan lifted his hands. “Please, gentlemen. Let us remain calm. As you know, when you entrusted your loved ones in my care, there was no promise that they would be made well. Many came here quite ill already and perhaps beyond help. But I did my best, and I am happy to say that some are indeed recovering.”
The man with the gun stepped forward. “So you’re telling me my Mattie didn’t have to come here, that she was going to die anyway in your cave? That there weren’t no hope?”
“Sir, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. We have done everything to care for them. But as I said, some did not adapt well to the cave’s environment. And it may be that your wife was one of the few.”
The man shook with rage, even as Susanna watched a younger man step up to try to calm him down. She sucked in her breath. The young man was Jared Edwards. She was certain of it. Their eyes met for the first time since that terrible day when he buried his aunt in the cemetery not far from the hotel. She saw him step back, his gaze never leaving her. Fear gnawed at her. Why was he looking at her that way?
The man then slipped around the crowd of people. She retreated into the dusk, wishing she had listened to Mother and stayed inside the hotel. He was coming toward her, walking at a brisk step, his face set in determination. Gasping, Susanna hastened for the nearest door and safety.
“Please wait!” he called to her.
Something in his voice made her stop—a pleading she could not ignore.
“I need to talk to you.”
She tried to settle her nervous tremors, praying she was not about to face some hostile man wishing revenge. “Please, if you have questions, talk to Dr. Croghan. It’s his cave, after all. I have nothing to do with it.”
“Yes, you do. You have everything to do with it. You may be the only one who can help me. You did once before when no one else cared. I know you care. I saw it with my own eyes.”
She looked at him, curious at the words he spoke. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The day my aunt died. The flowers you gave me. The way you stood there, watching, listening.” He stepped forward, planting his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “I never thanked you for it.”
Susanna stood still, unsure of what to say.
“I can tell you care,” he went on. “You’re not like the others in this place.”
“You’re wrong. We all care here, very much. The doctor, my family. . .”
“But I believe you care enough to do what needs to be done.”
She didn’t like the connotation behind his words. “What is it I’m supposed to do?”
He looked around. “Is there a place we can talk?”
Susanna showed him to a wooden bench, one of many that lined the pathways in the area. In the background, she could still hear the raised voices of the men challenging the doctor and see the glow of lanterns illuminating the twilight. “I fear those men might hurt the doctor and my papa,” she said quickly. “Your uncle looks ready to use that gun of his.”
“He’s very sad,” Jared agreed, kicking a foot into the dirt. “All of them are. But they don’t want to hurt anyone. They know the cave is dangerous and want something done about it. You’ve seen it for yourself, I’m sure.”
“I’ve never seen inside it.”
He looked up with wide eyes as if surprised by this news. “But you know that people have died in it. That it’s not safe.”
Susanna didn’t know how to respond. She never thought of the cave as dangerous, only dark and mysterious, but a miracle of God’s creation just the same. How can His creation be dangerous? “It isn’t a danger. Dr. Croghan only wishes to help people. Like he said, perhaps some came too sick to be helped by his methods. But that doesn’t make the cave dangerous.”
He stared, unblinking. “I had hoped you, out of all the people here, would see how this place brings nothing but death. That you would help me convince this doctor to close down Mammoth Cave before others suffer.”
She stared, shocked that he would even ask her such a thing. She stood to her feet in haste. “I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“The cave is God’s creation. His world beneath the ground. And I believe He wants us to see it, or He wouldn’t have made it.”
“But He never meant it to be used by others for evil, did He? Or to have people die in it? His creations are intended for good.”
The words struck her with such force, she took a step back. All the breath left her. She gasped. “This is not an evil place, and we are not evil people. I don’t know how you can say such things. Good night.”
She stumbled away, back to the safety of the hotel, with Jared’s words stinging her heart. She sat in a chair, trying to make sense out of all this, when Luke and her father returned, red faced and tremulous.
“Dr. Croghan managed the situation well,” Papa said, accepting the cup of tea a servant hastily brought to him. “I think the force we showed also helped, having armed men at our call. We will not be intimated.”
“They’ll be back, Papa,” Luke said. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Susanna looked down at her shaking hands, thinking of Jared and how he had called them all evil. It made her shudder. If only they had stopped to grieve for those who were lost. Maybe none of this would have happened.
/> Five
For days afterwards, Jared’s words haunted Susanna. She recalled his presence as he sat beside her on the bench—recollected his every detail, even down to the woodsy scent his clothes carried. Most of all, when she thought of Jared, she envisioned his determination to see things made right after the loss he had suffered. At night, she dreamed of the people in the cave with their peaked faces, dressed in white garments, their hands reaching out to her. Help us! You’re the only one who can help us! The doctor has us locked in this cave. It’s our prison. Set us free and close this place.
She awoke from one such dream, her chemise damp, her hair hanging in thin strands around her face. She rose from her bed and looked out the window into the moonlit night. She considered what the poor invalids must be suffering right now inside the damp, murky cave. She thought of going to the cave herself and seeing what was happening. Instead, she waited until her heart calmed and her breathing returned to normal, recalling the good things that had happened since coming to this place. They were helping people see the glory of Mammoth Cave. If only she could convince Jared that no one here had evil intentions, and the cave certainly wasn’t full of evil, either. It was the men Jared associated with who were evil, mad men ignited by their wrath, their swarthy faces filled with rage, the orange flame of the lanterns reflecting in their angry eyes. They were a danger to all she knew and to her family’s very existence.
But she also wanted to understand Jared’s point of view. His pain and grief. His mission of justice—or so he felt. His concerns rose above evil intentions. He wanted the cave closed only to save people from the agony he now endured. She couldn’t help but be intrigued by his plea, even if she disagreed with his intent.
At breakfast, her brothers and father exchanged loud chatter about the previous evening’s encounter. Susanna found her appetite gone, and instead, she focused on their every word.
“We need to get a constable here to protect us,” Luke insisted, slathering butter on his biscuit. “Someone from Brownsville, maybe. The doctor mentioned he knows men from Louisville. Anyone who can come keep the peace.” He swallowed down the bread in two gulps.