The Cellar (14 page)

“Ike,  where are you?” 
Sarge answered.

“I’m down here in the cellar,
I’m coming out.”

“Lazarus, come forth!” 
Sarge chuckled as Ike ascended the steps into sunlight that warmed him to his
innermost reaches. 

Ike’s Sergeant and his
companions stood with their mouths open and stared at the specter that emerged
from the cellar.  The sight of Ike in the damp night shirt with his eye patch
and beard left the normally talkative officer speechless. 

“It’s a long strange tale
and I will tell it after I get some real clothes on, I know where there are
some that will fit me in the house.” Ike said to his flabbergasted audience.

Sarge stepped forward and
grinned at Ike “I wanted you to be able to shake my trembling old hand once
more before I pass on.” 

Ike took his Sergeant’s
hand and shook it with mock solemnity and then took his Father in a bear hug. 
The two men stood holding each other and shaking with emotion. 

“I had given you up for
dead until Emma’s folks sent me your letter.  I think they were mad at first
but they were glad to hear that you were alive and figured you had your reasons
for sending the letter the way you did.   I thought I understood what you were
up to with all that rot about unpleasantness and not changing your position. 
The boys and I used up some of our reenlistment furlough to sneak over here and
look for you.”

“Are we in Union or Rebel
territory?”

“Not quite sure right
now, but the Rebs are stretched pretty thin around here and we’re not far from
our own camps.  Why don’t you get some clothes on and let’s hear the story.  Is
it all right to go in the house?”  Sarge asked.

“The homeowner won’t
object, she’s down there in the cellar, dead.” 

“Dead!  Did you kill her?” 
Sarge asked.

“No, she had an accident
after she killed her brother, he’s down there too.”

“Merciful God!”  Sarge
exclaimed.

“Yes indeed.”  Ike
responded, listening to Johnny shouting his “Amen” and laughing with joy.

As Ike was upstairs in
Todd’s room changing in to his uniform, Johnny was singing a Negro Spiritual
with gusto.  Ike had to admit that Johnny was in fine voice.  “Your singing has
improved since the first time I heard it Johnny,  the first song I remember you
singing was something about a ‘young girl from McGrass’ and I believe you were
way off key.”  Ike said.

“Well, I always sing when
I’m happy, Ikey, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been and I know there’s more on
the way.  Hey Ikey, that part in the letter about your Pa, with the tremblin’
old hands, that was my idea you know.  Purty clever of me wasn’t it?  I’d like
to of seen the look on his face when he saw that one!”  Johnny said with glee. 

“I couldn’t figure out
why I wrote that Johnny, I couldn’t seem to remember that my own Pa was my
Sergeant, but my mind was still pretty muddled then.  Thank you….for that and
for so much more.  You saved me from Mrs. Pendleton, and maybe from myself.”

“That’s alright Ikey, I
owed you that and a whole lot more, an’ it’s what I got to stay here for
anyway.  I guess my work’s done ‘cause the Shepherd’s come back to get me now
that you’re free and I’ll be a goin’ with him purty quick.”

“He’s here?” Ike asked
with a start, looking around.

“He’s everywhere, Ikey,
we just cain’t always see him, but he’s callin me to come with him now.”

“So I won’t be hearing
you anymore?” Ike asked.

“Not ‘til you cross that
creek, Ikey.  You gonna’ miss me?”

“In some way I guess I
will.   You know I haven’t really managed to completely mourn your death since
you took up residence in my head.  Yes Johnny, I’m going to miss you.  But I’m
sure now that I will hear and see you again.”

“We’ll have lots to chew
on when that happens ol’ pard.”  Johnny said. “But for now, I gotta’ get goin’
and so do you.  Drink lotsa’ water before you start tellin’ yer’ story to
Sarge.  You’ll get dry fer sure.”

“I sure won’t be drinking
out of that chamber pot any more.  Goodbye Johnny.  Give my regards to the rest
of the fellows….and Mrs. Pendleton and Marcus…..and Emma.”

  “I’ll do that Ikey.” 
Johnny said. “Well, I better go see my Granny, now that I’m outta’ ‘perkytory’,
and you need to go see your Pa.”

Ike felt relief with a
trace of melancholy that he wouldn’t hear Johnny again in his earthly life.  He
smiled as he went downstairs to join his comrades. 

His Father was admiring a
painting of Mrs. Pendleton in the study as the younger men were rummaging
through the kitchen looking for food.   They had found stale biscuits and
muscadine jam and were having a fine time gorging themselves.

Sarge jumped as if he had
been stung by a bee.  He looked around him and saw Ike entering the room.  He
resumed his study of the painting as if nothing had happened.  “She was an
attractive lady wasn’t she, Ike?”  He said.

“Yes, she was at that.” 
Ike said, studying his father.  Something about the way he had jumped and then
returned his gaze to the painting seemed odd to Ike, but he was too happy just
to have him here and be free from his imprisonment to take much note of this
peculiar incident. 

“What was her name?”

“Micheline Pendleton.” 
Ike answered and began to recount the happenings of the last few months.

Sarge sat down on one of
the comfortable chairs in the study and listened to his Son’s story.  He tried
to concentrate on Ike’s narrative, but he was distracted by the feeling that
someone had pinched him on his backside just as Ike had entered the room.  More
disturbing than the pinch was the sound of laughter that had filled his head
afterwards.  The voice sounded familiar…….