SECRET IN THE CELLAR

by Ruby Jackson

  Clouds were rolling in when Sammie opened the door of the cellar Tuesday morning. Drops of rain began to fall. She had watched Cecil take a part off the tractor and leave in his pickup. She had explored away from the house during the day several times and knew there were no houses close by. If he was going to work on the part with someone else, Cecil would be gone for awhile.

  Putting wood into the space next to the oven, Sammie had the kitchen warm in no time. Looking in the cabinet she found flour, salt, and lard for a crust. She had brought peaches from the cellar. After cutting the lard into the salted flour, Sammie added a little water to make the dough hold together. She kneaded the dough until it was rubbery. Rolling it out, she made a crust. She added the peaches, some sugar, a little flour, and butter on top of the bottom crust. Taking granules into her fingers, she sprinkled sugar on top of the pie. Placing it into the oven, Sammie started cleaning up the mess she had made.

  The house began to fill with the aroma of peaches cooking. Looking into the oven, Sammie looked at the pie carefully. It would be done, according to the book, when the crust was brown. Closing the oven door again, she put the dish towel on the table. Stepping to the back door she looked out. The clouds had moved on and the sun was shining. Sammie sighed and smiled. She felt at home. Comfortable. Going into the living room she opened the door to Cecil’s room for the first time and looked in. The room was littered with clothes. Shaking her head, she entered and started picking up a few pieces of the clothing. Raising her head near a corner, she found herself looking at dresses hanging on a nail. Lydia’s dresses. Cecil had not given them away.

  Sammie frowned. She thought Linda would have convinced Cecil that it would have been better to get rid of the clothes. But they were still there.

  “Does he still love you so much, Lydia, that he can’t get rid of your clothes?”

  Sammie fingered the dresses for a moment then picked up the rest of the clothes lying around. Carrying Cecil’s clothes into Danny’s room, she picked up his dirty clothes and took them to the kitchen. Checking the pie, she rushed out the door and set the wash tub up in the back yard. Carrying water to the tub, she filled it then added soap.

  Going back in, Sammie pulled the pie from the oven and set it on top of the pie safe.

  “Can’t let the birthday pie burn,” she said, going back out. Slowly, she added clothes to the pot and scrubbed them on the washboard.

  “Blessed Lord, lead my path toward the promise land,” Sammie sang out as she hung the last shirt on the line.

  Smiling, she checked the first clothes she had put on the line. They were already dry. Taking them down, she folded them and took them back inside. She didn’t know where Cecil’s clothes should be put, so she laid them on the bed. Returning to the living room Sammie looked at the clock. Surprise hit her. She had to hurry. She wasn’t sure what time Cecil would be home but it was only three hours until Danny would be coming down the road on the bus.

  Hurrying out the door, Sammie felt the clothes. The overalls were still damp. Wringing her hands she went back into the house. She moved the wood around in the stove and then swept the floor. Time was passing too fast. What would she do if the pants weren’t dry by the time she had to hide again?

  Closing Cecil’s door, Sammie looked around. Suddenly she heard Cecil’s pickup. Panicking, Sammie looked out the window. Cecil was going toward the back. Quickly, Sammie opened the front door and screen. She hurried out and moved to the corner of the house. Looking around, she could see Cecil walking toward the barn. The part she had seen him take off the tractor earlier was in his hand.

  Sammie looked toward the clothesline. The overalls were still on the line. She couldn’t get them now that Cecil was home.

  Her heart beat faster. Glancing at the cellar, she was glad she had closed the door when she thought it was going to rain, but how was she going to get back in with him home?

  Moving to the other side of the house and down the side to the back, Sammie pushed into the large bush near the corner. Wedging herself under it, she waited. Danny would be home soon and after his chores and after Cecil put the part on the tractor, maybe they would go inside and she could safely return to her hideaway.

  Waiting was torture. In the distance she could hear the drone of the bus. It came closer, finally stopped for a moment, then moved on. Sammie waited. She heard the back door open then slam. A few minutes later the door opened and slammed again. Time seemed to be moving in hours instead of minutes. With a sigh, she settled back. She didn’t know how long she would have to stay in the bush.

  Danny’s yelling brought Sammie’s attention. She jumped and started moving branches. Danny didn’t get loud. Something had to be wrong.

  Peering around the back corner, she could see Danny running to his father. Jumping into his arms, he was ecstatic.

  “You told me you couldn’t bake a pie! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “Danny, calm down. What are you talking about?” Cecil said as he put his son on the ground.

  “There’s a pie on the safe! I saw it. It’s peach, just like I asked for!” Danny shouted in exuberance.

  Cecil scratched his head. He took Danny’s hand and the two walked toward the house. For long moments he looked toward the house, then at the clothesline.

  “I guess Linda came out today. She must be over being mad. It was nice of her to bake the pie and do the wash.”

  “Can we eat it first?” Danny asked, tugging at his father’s hand. “I haven’t had pie in a long time. I’d like to eat it now!”

  Cecil smiled. “I guess one piece won’t hurt either one of us. Come on, race you to the kitchen.”

  Sammie smiled and felt warm inside. She watched as the two, father and son, ran across the yard. Just as they neared the door, Cecil scooped Danny from the ground and carried him. A tear escaped Sammie. How she wished she could be inside and have the pie sliced for them.

  Instead, she quietly moved to the window and looked in. Cecil was looking around at the clean room. Walking through the house he carefully looked in every direction. Coming back into the kitchen, he smiled at Danny.

  “Your aunt Linda did a fine job cleaning up. Why, even all the dirty clothes are washed. She must have stayed all day. I wonder why she didn’t leave a note. Well, it doesn’t matter. At least she’s over being upset.”

  “I’m glad she’s not mad anymore. Look, Pa, I have the plates and forks ready. Can you cut the pie now?” Danny said with wide eyes.

  Sammie’s shoulders drooped. She couldn’t get the credit for making that boy happy. There was nothing she could do but to let them give someone else the credit. Slowly, she walked back to the cellar. She was tired. It had been a long day. She didn’t even feel like opening a can of food.

  Settling down, with lamp on, Sammie picked up the bible and began to read. She had read scripture over and over and could almost quote the whole book. The pages began to blur.

  This was going to be her new routine, she decided, as her eyes drooped in the dim light.

  Chapter 5

  The routine met with Sammie’s satisfaction. Once a week she did small amounts of laundry and cleaned parts of the house.

  Not too much, she scolded herself. Don’t raise suspicion. Do just enough cleaning and washing to get them by without raising questions.

  Colder temperatures crept into October as it marched on. Cold winds blew Sammie’s old, thin coat as she placed clean sheets and clothes on the line. Her fingers and toes were numb.

  As she poured the water beside the hog trough, her hands slipped. Water sloshed onto her. The cold burst into her body.

  Hurrying to the cellar, Sammie quickly changed in the chilled air. Wrapped in a blanket, she placed her wet dress and coat on the line beside Cecil’s shirt.

  Suddenly, the sun came out and the air warmed a little. Feeling confident the clothes would dry, Sammie went inside the house and warmed by the heater.

  Ole Blue lay by the fire and looked at her.

>   “You’ll have to be outside when I go to the cellar,” she said to him. Reaching down, she rubbed his head. “I bet you miss Lydia, don’t you?”

  Ole Blue jerked his head and moved toward her. Putting his nose in Sammie’s hand, he let out a whine.

  “You do miss her! I’m sorry Blue,” she said, a tear quivering at the corner of her eye. “I miss her, too. But life goes on and we have to adjust our lives. I can’t take her place, but I love you, too.”

  Sammie hated she didn’t bake anything but it would raise too many questions.

  “This is only Wednesday, Blue. If I bake today, Cecil might become suspicious. It was only last week I made bread. I don’t think he would believe Linda would come out that soon again.”

  Opening the door to the cellar, Sammie felt tired, but elated. She did just enough laundry to keep Danny looking nice for another week and Cecil one more shirt to work in.

  Sammie could hear scratching on the door. Pushing herself against the wall, she listened. A bark echoed into the room. Sighing, Sammie closed her eyes and prayed.

  Lord, you’ll have to help. Now that I’ve made friends with Ole Blue, he wants to be near me. You’ve got to keep him away from the cellar!

  The barking stopped and all became quiet. Sammie relaxed and opened a jar of vegetable soup. Grabbing a spoon, she ate it silently.

  She could barely keep her eyes open as she read passages from the bible. Finally, after her head nodded several times, she blew out the lamp and huddled under the quilts.

  The sound of the old truck awakened Sammie from a sound sleep. Hurrying up the steps, she could see daylight outside, but it wasn’t the same as when she had stretched out on the bed. Suddenly, Sammie realized it was morning. She had slept through the whole evening and night.

  Danny was putting a bag in the back of the truck. Calling to the dog, Cecil closed the tailgate behind him, and moved to his door.

  Bewildered, Sammie watched as the truck moved down the road.

  “Where are they going?” Sammie said aloud. Creasing her brow, she stood there long moments. Suddenly a wide-eyed Sammie looked out again. “This has to be their trip to town,” she said to herself. “They’ve gone to granny’s house and town. What was it Linda had said? They go to town and then stay a night or two at the farm to visit.”

  Throwing the door open, Sammie stepped out into the light. The air was brisk. She shuddered. Going back down the steps, she pulled on her old coat and ascended the steps again.

  Opening the door, she looked at the now familiar calendar. Above a large red x was the word town. A tear stung Sammie’s eye. An x was above Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

  She walked through the house. She would have it to herself for at least three days and two nights. Stepping into the bathroom, she looked at the tub with its claw feet.

  A real tub, Sammie thought. A place to take a bath.

  The sun shined through Danny’s bedroom window. The warmth invited Sammie in. She had only been to the room to put clean sheets on the bed and to place clothes on it afterwards.

  Bed, she thought. She would even get to sleep in a good bed for two nights. Smiling, she ran her hand down the bed.

  Turning, she left the room. Skipping, she headed back to the kitchen.

  “I can cook me a meal!” she said to the silent room. “A real meal with meat and fried potatoes and whatever else I want!”

  She headed for the door then stopped.

  “No,” she said aloud again, “I think I need a long, long bath first.”

  Placing a big pot on the stove, Sammie heated the water for her bath. The water was warm and soothing as Sammie slid her body into the tub. Sighing, she felt the warmth touch her soul. Never had a bath felt so good. She would have liked to stay there all day, but she knew the water would soon grow tepid and cool.

  After lying in the tub for half an hour, she slowly wrapped herself in a towel. What would she put on? Her two dresses had become worn and tattered.

  Nodding her head and tightening her lips, she moved to Cecil’s bedroom. Looking at the clothes hanging on the nails, she chose a brown tweed skirt and tan blouse. She pulled a sweater over the blouse.

  She saw a brush lying on the dresser and her hand automatically moved to it. Picking it up, she began brushing her hair. The reflection in the mirror brought Sammie to a standstill. She was surprised at her looks. The clothes made her look young and happy.

  Opening a drawer, she found lipstick and powder. She applied them and looked at her reflection again.

  Standing up, she turned halfway around.

  “If only Cecil could see me,” she said. Shocked by her own thoughts, she quickly left the bedroom.

  After a quick trip to the cellar, Sammie fried ham and potatoes. While they were cooking, she put a pan of cornbread in the oven.

  With a big sigh, she relished each bite of food. It was warm and delicious. She couldn’t remember when food tasted so good.

  Closing her eyes, she sat back. Her stomach was satisfied. Smiling, she opened her eyes and slowly reached for the dirty dishes. Washing and drying them, she put them away. Everything was back in its place when she left the room and walked into the living room and turned on the radio. Sitting down in the rocker, she closed her eyes again.

  Peace, she thought. Peace, wonderful peace.

  The room was dark when Sammie opened her eyes. She panicked. At first, she didn’t know where she was then the surroundings soaked in. Sighing, she got out of the chair and moved through the house.

  It would be cold outside. She hated the thought of going back to the cellar. She hated living there.

  “God, why can’t I have a home like this?” she asked aloud, looking at the ceiling. “Why can’t I have a place to live where there is warmth and people to talk to?”

  A tear escaped and slid down her cheek.

  Looking out the window, Sammie looked down the road. The sun was low in the sky. About four o’clock she surmised.

  Turning from the window, she saw a picture album on a shelf. Picking it up, she went back to the rocking chair. Opening the cover, Sammie looked at a warm smiling face next to Cecil.

  Fingering the photo, Sammie muttered under her breath. She used her fingers to wipe her eyes.

  Looking at the picture again, she studied it carefully. The woman’s hair was curled under and pinned at the sides. Sammie could tell the color of the hair was brown in the black and white photo. She imagined it to be the color of Danny’s.

  Pulling on a strand of her own hair, Sammie spoke aloud.

  “My hair is the same color.”

  Turning the pages, Sammie looked at photo after photo. Smiling, happy faces looked back at her. Some were of a wedding, some of family get-togethers, others were of Cecil, Lydia, and Danny.

  Farther into the book, there were photos where there were no smiles. Sammie studied these. There were pictures where Cecil was smiling, but not Lydia. Then the photos changed. It was Cecil and Lydia, both, who weren’t smiling. Sammie cocked her head, and stared at the pictures. Why weren’t they smiling?

  Yawning, she closed the books and moved back to the kitchen.

  Eight-thirty. Almost bedtime.

  Putting milk into a pot she placed it on the stove over the lit burner. Adding sugar and cocoa she stirred it several minutes.

  Sammie smiled. Contentment. That’s what she felt. Contentment.

  She was home. This was where she belonged.

  Suddenly, Sammie’s back straightened.

  What if Cecil talked to Linda about---?

  Sammie looked around at the clean kitchen. Her stomach ached.

  *********************************************************************

  “How much farther to Granny’s?” Danny asked.

  Tussling his hair, Cecil grinned. “You ask that every time we make this trip. By now you should know this road by heart.”

  “I know, but I like for you to tell me,” Danny chimed in. “Is it much farther until we eat?�
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  Shaking his head, Cecil answered his son who was busy watching the countryside pass.

  “We’ll stop up ahead and eat lunch by the big oak. We won’t get to Granny’s until about five o’clock. You know we always eat at the tree and it’s halfway.”

  “I always take a nap after we get back in the truck. I don’t know how long it takes.”

  “Well, I think you’re old enough to stay awake this time if you want to. You’ve become my little man.”

  “And you’re the big man,” Danny laughed.

  The tree was almost bare of green leaves as the truck pulled beside it. Brown leaves clung to the waving branches. Cecil helped Danny into his coat, then out of the truck. Handing him a basket, they walked hand in hand to the tree.

  “Danny, it might be too cold today for us to eat out here. The wind is blowing a lot.”

  “Aw, we need to stretch our legs. Ole Blue has been sitting in the back for a long time. He needs to run and let off some energy. Please, just for a while. I’m not cold,” Danny told his father as he set the basket on the ground.

  “Well, all right, but as soon as we finish we’ll need to head on.”

  “Sure thing,” Danny absently said, throwing a stick for the farm dog to fetch.

  Rays of the setting sun blazed gold and red against purple clouds on the western horizon. Black silhouettes of geese glided across the sky toward a small lake on the edge of a large field.

  Cecil looked at his quiet son.

  “You asleep?” he asked pulling a blanket closer to Danny.

  “No,” Danny answered quietly. “I was just remembering… the last time we made this trip. Can we…visit…you know.”

  “Yes.” Cecil choked out.

  The two sat silent the next half hour.

  Linda was waiting at the Bryan farm when the old truck pulled in.

  “Land sakes, it took you two long enough to get here. Let me look at you, Danny. My, you’ve grown two inches since the last time I saw you! How are you doing?”