The Cellar Page 9

  “She finished with you and then she turned to Marcus just like what she was a doin’ was the most normal thing in the world. She quoted a Bible verse to him; she said ‘And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.’ And she started puttin’ stuff back in that bag.”

  “Then ol’ Marcus come back and says ‘Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.’” Johnny said in a deep serious tone as if he was mimicking the way Marcus had spoken. “That woman stopped what she was a doin’ like she had been slapped and then she just locked eyes with him. It was like they was makin’ a contest out of it. Them two just stood there and stared at each other for a while until she finally blinked and started back up the stairs. The big fella’ stayed a gazin’ down at you and a lookin’ sad. He dropped to his knees and closed his eyes and prayed. Now I ‘seen lotsa’ folks pray before but I never saw anybody look any more sincere about it than he did. He looked like one of them pictures of Jesus prayin’ in the garden, I half expected him to sweat blood. They’s a lot more to that big darky than most folks black or white. The way he rattled off that Bible verse I bet he can read ‘bout as good as you can.”

  Ike lay and listened to Johnny’s account. Any doubt about the reality of his personal ghost or guardian was forgotten for now, he was sure that things must have happened just as they had been described. “Johnny, do you think I’m safe?”

  “You are for now, Ikey. I don’t think Marcus will let her hurt you any more if he can stop her, but she’s crazy as a bedbug and sneaky to boot. We need to get you out of here as soon as you heal up some. I sure wish I coulda’ done somethin’ to stop her from cuttin’ on you like that Ike. I hollered and carried on all the while she was workin’ on you. She even stopped and looked around once, but I didn’t get through to her. I guess it’s just not somethin’ I’m allowed to do.” Johnny paused for a few moments. “S’pose it coulda’ been worse, Todd coulda’ got his balls shot off like I did.”

  “Thanks for the cheerful thought.” Ike responded. “I think I need to sleep now, Johnny.”

  Ike’s dreams were populated with specters of hideously wounded men. There were men with arms and legs missing, men with massive disfiguring head wounds, men who had been burned so badly that their own mothers wouldn’t recognize them and would be traumatized by the sight of them. He dreamed of walking up the path to his own home and seeing Emma. She turned her head to him and revealed a patch over her own right eye and then she screamed at the sight of him. Freddy was missing an eye as well and barked at Ike as if he were a stranger.

  Nathan Bedford Forrest galloped through the landscape of Ike’s subconscious. Ike had glimpsed Forrest briefly at “Fallen Timbers” and would long remember the man’s striking appearance. Riding at the tall Cavalier’s right hand was a one eyed young cavalryman. The rider had Ike’s face and bearing and wore a black patch over his right eye. The blue left eye winked at Ike mischievously. He was dressed not in the uniform of the Confederacy but wore a plumed hat, tall boots, and the archaic regalia of a French Musketeer from an illustration in one of Jasper Pendleton’s volumes. The rider looked at Ike and shouted cheerfully “Don’t worry Ike; I still have another eye left!”

  Forrest looked at Ike as well and chimed in “Yes, he still has an eye, and so do you…..for now!” before tilting his head back and laughing so loudly that it made Ike’s head throb. The riders screamed “the Rebel Yell” and plunged into a cringing group of Yankees. Ike’s own squad quaked as they were savaged by Forrest and his men. The laughing screeching Rebels slashed the blue coats with their sabers and trampled their victims under the hooves of their horses. Todd drew a massive wheel lock pistol and fired point blank at Sarge, whose head exploded in gore as the ball passed through his right eye.

  Ike drifted in and out of consciousness for several days as his body fought to survive the ravages of his respiratory infection and the shock from the blow to his head and the loss of his right eye. Fever and chills alternated as he fought off infections for which there were no remedies available. More than once he stood at the brink of death and on one occasion he saw the dead members of his squad standing before him with welcoming smiles, his brother Jim was with them, looking as fit and proud as had been on the day he first received his blue uniform. There was a shallow stream between himself and his friends and his only thought was to cross it and join them. Johnny stepped forward and smiled “Not yet, Ikey! You got a thing or two left to do on that side old buddy!” Ike moaned in his sleep when he saw someone else among the small crowd awaiting him, someone else who shouldn’t have been there.

  In near lucid moments Ike saw Marcus staring down at him. The broad brown face showed anguish as the big gentle hands tended to Ike’s needs.

  Micheline Pendleton’s face swam into his field of view on a few occasions. Her concern for his well being was obvious but she was kept at a distance. Ike sensed Marcus was keeping her from approaching too closely. She also appeared in dreams. One time she was carrying Ike’s eye in a jar of clear liquid. The eye seemed to stare at Ike as the woman chanted “If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out!”

  After nearly two weeks of fighting for his life Ike’s fever broke, his body had won out over the infection and he was beginning to heal. He was still weak from the ordeal but he was recovering. He was no longer coughing as much and he was awake more and able to think rather than merely dream.

  When he was able to sit up and look around he noticed to his horror that there was a shackle on his left foot attached to a chain whose other end was fixed to a ring that had been mortared into the stone wall of the cellar. The shackle was padded with soft cloth apparently to keep it from chafing his ankle. The two halves of the shackle were held together on one side with a rivet and the other with a sturdy padlock that connected the whole affair to the end of the chain. It was obvious that Marcus sympathies went only so far. Ike was not meant to leave.

  Ike stared at the old fashioned “smokehouse” style lock that kept him fettered. The keyhole stared back at him with a one eyed wink, as if it knew some secret knowledge that he had yet to discover.

  Johnny murmured reassurances to Ike from time to time in what Ike thought might be his more sane interludes. The fact that he felt more rational having conversations with a dead man was disturbing in itself, but Johnny’s voice was a comfort to him in his isolation. He couldn’t escape the thought that somehow his mind had been affected by his original head wound during the ambush and Johnny was a symptom of the damage.

  Ike had seen plenty of other soldiers who were mentally or emotionally impaired by either physical wounds or by the exposure to so much violence. Some merely sat and stared into space, seemingly unaware of their surroundings. Others developed tics and talked to themselves or spoke with invisible companions. The distinguishing difference between these men and their conversations and his communication with Johnny was that they talked out loud and ignored actual persons who were present. It was not unusual at all for soldiers to have night terrors and wake up screaming from having relived some battlefield horror beyond their conscious mind’s ability to process during waking hours.

  “Ikey, you must be gettin’ a wee bit better. You’re a layin’ there with your eye open and thinkin’ ‘bout whether or not I’m real or some sort of mental problem.” Johnny cackled.

  “I don’t know if you are a mental problem, Johnny, but I do believe that you had a mental problem when you were alive and you don’t seem to have improved much.”

  “Why Ikey, I’m just as sane as you are!” Johnny said laughing raucously. “I know you’re better now, since you’re so cranky.”

  “Johnny, do you remember me standing beside a creek and seeing a crowd on the other side?”

  “I was in that crowd Ikey. You were almost to the point of comin’ over to us, but yo
ur time ain’t at hand yet.”

  “Johnny, why did I see Emma with them?”

  Johnny took a few moments to respond. Ike had the impression that his companion was consulting with someone else. “She’s on the other side alright Ike. She’s waitin’ for you. I know you tried to forget that she died ‘cause it was too painful for you to remember. You’re gettin’ stronger now and you’re gonna have to deal with it sometime. Ikey, she says it wasn’t your fault even though you somehow got it in your head that it was. The lightnin’ hit the house and set it on fire. She tried to get out but she knocked over a lamp and the oil caught fire and it was over for her pretty quick. She said her last thoughts were about you.”

  “You talked to her?” Ike said, feeling a pang of something like jealousy.

  “She loves you Ike. She always loved you, even when you was a drinkin’ too much. She wants you to know that.”

  “Why can’t I talk to her, why am I stuck with you?”

  “Don’t know Ikey, that’s way above me. I don’t think most folks even get somebody like me, you just seemed to need somebody and I had some work to do yet and here I am. Hey, you coulda’ got ol’ Charlie Olson and you know what a stutterer he was, and besides he didn’t know you as well as I do.”

  “I need to get out of here more than ever Johnny, but now I’m chained.”

  “I think ol’ Marcus might a lot more sympathetic now, he either has the key or knows where it is.”

  “But he’s the one that put the chain on me I’m sure.”

  “And he might just be the one to unlock it too Ikey. Don’t give up hope, it’s one of them three important things the apostle talked about you know; faith, hope, and charity.”

  “You’re starting to sound more like an angel.”

  “Well, I always liked it when people put things simple. Them three things always made sense to me, I cain’t quote chapter an’ verse like you and Mama Pendleton, I just know that it was Paul a writin’ one of his letters, but I always tried to understand things on my level. Right now you need all three of those good things, I know that the last one may be pretty hard for you. It’s gonna’ be hard to be charitable towards that crazy woman, but I think you have to try to love your enemies. You got love on your side though, God loves you, Emma loves you, and I love you. I think that’s one reason I got so lucky, you was the best friend I ever had and somehow that gave me the job of lookin’ out for you to help redeem my sorry self.”

  “Thanks Johnny, you were always a good friend to me both in life and in death. You’re right about something else, I am not in a loving mood toward Mrs. Micheline Pendleton right now. I saved her life Johnny, and she repaid me by taking out my eye and chaining me to a wall! The best I can do is not to pray for her to drop dead or burst into flames. I suppose I should have faith and pray for her mind to heal, that would be asking for a miracle. I should have just left her in the cellar and ran when I had the chance.” He thought for a few moments and grew even angrier. “I should have set fire to this damned house with her in it and made my escape. The fire would have been a diversion to keep the Home Guard occupied.”

  “You couldn’t have done that Ikey, you just don’t have it in you to let someone die like that.”

  “I let Emma die!” Ike moaned out loud. “I should just have went into the flames with her, at least she wouldn’t have died alone!”

  “Johnny, I would have been better off if that confederate had done a better job of it and killed me that first day, I would be with Emma now instead of being chained up in this cellar with an eye missing and just waiting for a crazy woman to finish me off.”

  Ike slept again and dreamed of the time of Emma’s loss. The flames came again and Ike knew what they meant. He had been drinking at a tavern and staggered toward home just in time to see the house engulfed in flames. He had run toward the structure and was trying to get in when his neighbors caught him and pulled him back. The burns on his hands and arms were excruciating, but the suffering from the loss of his wife was more than his mind could deal with. Enlisting in the army was a way to escape the life that was so full of reminders of Emma.

  Mrs. Pendleton tried to converse with Ike on several occasions as he was recuperating, but Ike would only roll over on his side and face the wall. “You are angry with me Mr. Lowery and I suppose you have a right to be. The news I get from Todd reveals that he is recovering at about the same pace as you. I believe that I have gained God’s attention for now and you both will survive this war and return to your homes and those who love you.” When Ike remained silent she retreated up the steps. Before the door was closed she spoke loudly “...it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.”

  “Matthew 5:29!” was Ike’s only reply.

  “That was quick, Ikey!” Johnny said in awe.

  “It’s a verse that has been on my mind lately…. and on hers too. It starts out with “If they right eye offend thee, pluck it out….’”

  “That one always made me uncomfortable.” Johnny sniggered. “I always wondered if I oughta’ be cuttin’ off somethin’ that got me into trouble. That Johnny Reb took care of that for me.”

  Under Marcus care Ike recovered and grew stronger. He resumed his exercise and walking back and forth in the cellar. The chain had been carefully measured to allow him enough freedom to walk from one corner of the cellar to the other. He could make it up the steps far enough to gaze out of the knothole.

  One day as he was pacing, Marcus brought him a small gift from his mistress. “This from Missy, she made it herself, she made one for Todd and one for you.” Marcus said handing Ike the small package. It was a black silk eye patch. Ike sighed and looked at it for a long time, thinking of refusing it. “It’d mean a lot to her if you’d wear it. She wasn’t in her right mind when she done it and she sorry for it now. This the closest she can do to givin’ it back.”

  “She just wants to hide what she did to me. I saved her life and this is how she repaid me. Why should I help her cover up her guilt?” Ike spat out the last line with more anger than he had meant to convey.

  “Marcus, she hasn’t been in her right mind since I’ve been here. Sometimes she’s better than others but not much. You know if Todd dies she will kill me.”

  “I won’t let her do that. If I had know what she was gonna’ do, I would ‘a stopped her.” Marcus said and then paused. “If I’d known she was this bad off I might have just let you go before this all happened. Trouble is, if you had escaped the Rebel army would probably have caught you anyway, and you might have lead them back to Missy and caused her trouble. If you had made it to your own army they might have caused her trouble too when they found out what she did to you. That situation is even worse now. I don’t see any harm in you staying here. For now, I’m keeping you here for your sake and for hers, and maybe for my own.”

  “Hey, Ikey, Marcus is talkin’ different!” Johnny observed, noting how contractions and mannerisms had left the man’s speech like a snake shedding its skin.

  “I noticed it too, Johnny.” Ike thought. “He puts on the slave talk.”

  “Marcus. Why are you so devoted to her?”Ike asked.

  The big man paused and looked at Ike for a long moment and then sighed. “I suppose I owe you an explanation. She is my sister, the only family I have.”

  “Your Sister?” Ike and Johnny said simultaneously as Marcus paused as if to gather his thoughts and consider what he was about to say.

  “Her Father’s….our Father’s first wife died shortly after they were married. Our father, Julius Broussard, was somewhat of a loner, but he was lonely after his wife died. My Mother moved into the big house to look after things and the Master became infatuated with her, she was a very attractive woman, a good and intelligent woman. He treated her well and she fell in love with him. He sired me and treated me like the son I was. We kept to ourselves mostly, his plantation was off by itself and he wasn’t one for social gat
herings anyway. His family was furious that he was living with my Mother and me as if we were the family that we had truly become, but he paid them no mind. He was not one who felt he needed to be involved in society in order to be successful. He managed his affairs well and had carved out a prosperous operation which he believed allowed him the freedom to live as he pleased. We were happy until my Mother became ill when I was about five. She was expecting again, and they were praying for a little girl. My Father sat by her bed with me and cried his eyes out when she died. He had her buried right next to his first wife in the family cemetery in spite of his siblings’ protests.”

  Ike pictured a man mourning the loss of a wife and then another. The thought was poignant to him now that he was in the process of coming to grips with having lost Emma. As bad as it was having lost one wife, something in him wondered if losing a second would be any easier or would it be worse. He shook off the thought and re-focused his thoughts on Marcus’ narrative.

  “His sisters fixed him up with a white woman not long after. He was reluctant at first to meet her, said he wasn’t ready yet but my aunts, who could barely stand to be in my presence insisted. The woman was a beauty, even more beautiful than Missy, and my Father, our Father, fell hard for her, and she for him. They were married soon after they met and she moved in and took over. She was nice enough to me when no one else was around, but I was to be a servant when there was company, and she involved herself more in the community and craved company far more than my Father did. I may be foolish to believe it, but I think she did it to protect me as much as to keep up appearances. She had Missy when I was seven. I thought that baby was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I looked after her and played with her and pulled her around in a little wagon. I was so proud of my little sister that I felt like I would explode, but I couldn’t tell anyone.