Twins
Written by Tricia Bennett
Published by Tricia Bennett for Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Tricia Bennett
This story is entirely a product of my imagination. The characters are fictious, and not intended to be associated with anyone in real life.
No part of this novel may be used in any manner other than for your reading entertainment without the written permission of the author. Please enjoy!
Myles and Myron Culver woke in the dark. It was cold and lacking any light at all. They remembered exactly where they were and were terrified. They had been locked in the impenetrable cellar many times before, but were now cold, weak from hunger and desperate for water.
“How long have we been here?” Myles whimpered.
“I’m not sure,” Myron answered. “I know it’s been much longer than overnight this time.
“I’m scared, Myron. What if he never comes to let us out? We won’t last much longer without food or water.”
“Then it’s up to us to get ourselves out. Let’s see if we can find any kind of tool to dig our way out.”
“You know there are no tools in here and the entire room is solid brick, even the floor. There is no way out,” Myles insisted. “We’re going to die in here this time.
Spring 1971
Chapter 1
Martha Culver hung her wash on the outside clothesline as she watched her twin boys chase each other around their old farmhouse. She loved watching them play and had to laugh as they tackled each other. She felt so fortunate to have them both.
The boys had been born a month premature and Myles had been a sickly child. Myron was always strong. Within six months, Myles had caught up with his brother and no one had been able to tell them apart since then. They looked identical, but Myron had always been the leader and Myles went along with anything he wanted to do.
“I’ll catch you,” laughed Myles as he chased his twin round and round the old house.
“You’ll never catch me,” said Myron. “You’re too slow.”
The next corner he turned, Myles was waiting for him. He jumped out and tackled his brother and they both fell to the ground laughing. They were the best of friends.
The Culver twins led an ideal life until the family’s whole world was turned upside down by a series of unfortunate circumstances.
Spring in the Ozark Mountains was always beautiful. The trees were leafing out and the mountains carpeted in shades of green. The Culver twins loved watching the sunset each evening. It was just like a work of art, the colors changing as the sun dropped lower over the mountains. It was like a painter experimenting with each color on his pallet. The colors projected onto the clouds and into the water of a distant lake.
They stood in wonder as the sun dipped lower and lower. Finally, it was just a faint glow. They turned and ran into the house. If they got up early enough, they could watch the light show in reverse as the brilliant red ball started to rise in the East.
The twins were eight years old, sleight in stature, and dressed alike in bib overalls and red flannel shirts. Both wanted to be just like their father. Myron was a leader and Myles was his shadow.
The boys loved to play in the woods and never walked anywhere. They ran everywhere they went. The sound of happy laughter echoed through the trees as Myles and Myron chased each other around the house and through the wooded area just behind the house.
Myles was a quiet, shy child, unlike his brother who was always adventuresome and never still. He liked to read and watch the creatures in the woods, but Myron would rather throw rocks at them or chase them.
Myron was building a pretend fort or climbing to the top of the tallest tree with his homemade sword fastened tightly to a belt loop while Myles would really rather just sit on a stump and watch the animals, birds and butterflies. Miles was the one who always gave in and did what his brother wanted, but he never resented it. They were best friends and incredibly close. It sometimes felt as if they shared the same mind. They often started saying the same thing at the same time, or one would finish the other’s sentence. When the older boys at school teased Myles for being so shy, Myron could stop them with a look.
When fall arrived in the Ozarks, it was beautiful. The trees were dressed in their finest colors of orange, rust, red and yellow. The boys heard their Mother calling and it was time to scurry home. The large old two story house loomed ahead in the clearing and they picked up their pace.
Martha was a pleasant, smiling woman who always had a ready hug for her boys and they adored her. To them, she was the most beautiful woman in the world; and she was the most beautiful they ever saw. The Culvers led a very solitary life. There was no television and the few women the boys had seen were Martha’s friends from church, their schoolteacher and a few others they saw when they made a rare trip into town with their parents.
Martha had shoulder length, light brown hair and green eyes. She was slim, almost to the point of being anorexic. She was a great cook and housekeeper and adored her boys.
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The weather was starting to cool off as fall arrived and everything was new and wonderful to the twins. They just loved life and enjoyed each new day and the adventures it brought.
Adam Culver was the community repairman. He could fix anything and was always in demand by their neighbors. He took care of his young family and they were very content. Adam was never as affectionate as their mother was, but the boys adored him and spent every minute with him they could. On Saturdays, they would spend the morning helping their father cut and stack wood and then would have the afternoon free to play.
When the weather started to cool off, the boys would carry in an armload of firewood for the wood stove and the large fireplace in the kitchen as they came in for dinner. The family always ate their meals together at the kitchen table.
It was mid October and the weather was starting to get very cool. The twins hung up their coats, hats and gloves and then washed their hands before seating themselves at the family table. Martha had made a hardy meal of chili with a hot pan of cornbread fresh from the oven. They sat down for their family meal and caught up on the events of the day. Martha asked the boys what they had done that day and they both started talking at once.
“I built a Fort and we were attacked by Indians,” insisted Myron, “But we ran them all off.”
Myles chimed in and said, “And I built a boat and sailed clear to Africa and shot an elephant.”
Adam and Martha laughed. “You boys have quite an imagination,” Martha said. After the meal, the boys left the table to do their evening chores.
While Martha cleared the table and started cleaning the dishes, Adam sat down in his favorite chair by the stove and lit his pipe. It was Friday and there would be no school tomorrow. Adam would roust the boys from their warm bed soon after dawn. After a warm breakfast, they would spend the morning cutting, splitting and stacking firewood.
The twins always enjoyed working with their dad, but looked forward to getting off to play. At noon, they would return to the house for a warm bowl of soup. After lunch, Adam allowed the twins to go to the woods to play while he went to the neighbors where he was helping to shore up an old barn and winterize the house.
The wind was starting to howl outside and you could feel the cold draft in the old house. The house had been in the in the Culver family for over sixty years and belonged to Adam since his parents died ten years earlier. It sat on fifteen acres, five miles from the nearest small town.
Ozark was a town of about twenty-five hundred residents. It was the kind of small town where everyone knew their neighbors. Martha always took her boys to town on Sunday mornings to the small Baptist Church.
Ozark, Missouri and the view of the Ozark Mountains in the distance was breathtaking. The boys walked a half mile down the drive to catch the school bus but always turned it into an adventure. Wild Indians were always chasing them or they would run into a hungry black bear and have to run for their lives.
At one time, the house used to be very fancy, but was now much in need of repairs and upgrading. The Culvers felt very fortunate to have it just the way it was. It was a two-story house with two bedrooms and a bath upstairs. The ground floor was comprised of a large living room and a big country kitchen with an enormous fireplace covering one wall. There was a hook in the fireplace that held a large iron pot that Martha used to cook soup or beans. The fireplace and the wood stove kept the house warm and comfortable in the coldest weather and Martha had enough food stored in her cellar to get them through the hardest winter.
After the evening meal, the family always settled in the living room; the boys on the floor reading, Adam in his easy chair by the fireplace smoking his pipe, and Martha would be sitting on the couch working on her latest quilt or afghan.
Martha’s handwork filled the cozy home and made it homey and neat.
The kitchen was the twin’s favorite room. Their mother was always making cookies or homemade bread and the smell coming from her oven was like a magnet for the boys. Martha even let them help make cookies occasionally.
From the kitchen, a set of steep stairs led to a full basement with only one small, dirty window. The single bulb at the bottom of the stairs spread a faint glow over the gloomy darkness. Along the back wall sat a small wood stove with the pipe going up and out the wall. It was the twin’s job to keep an ample supply of firewood stacked by the stove.
In one corner was a bricked in root cellar with a sturdy, tight fitting, wooden door. The floor of the cellar was also brick. The cellar held bushels of potatoes, onions, squash and fruit stored for the coming winter. Martha’s garden was her pride and joy and the twins loved to help her. She also had several flower gardens and enjoyed picking fresh flowers for the house.
There were shelves along three walls that held Martha’s canning. A single light bulb with a long chain hung in the middle of the cellar. In the winter months, the twins would play in the basement while their mother did the washing, and hung the wet clothing on the two lines stretched across the basement.
It was a pleasant time in their lives and they did not expect things to ever change.
Chapter 2
Fall 1971
Sunday morning at dawn, Adam rolled out of bed, pulled on his overalls and flannel shirt and headed downstairs to stoke the fire. The October chill was making itself felt in the drafty house, but the wood stove and fireplace kept it toasty warm.
Adam was a tall, gaunt looking man in his early forties. He had dark brown hair that fell about an inch below the baseball cap he always wore. He was a handsome man but the stress lines were starting to show around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. It took all he had to provide for his family.
The house was warm and he was able to keep food on the table. He loved his wife and sons and would do what he could to keep them happy. When the house had started to warm, he went to the foot of the stairs and called up, “Get up sleepy heads. It’s a new day.”
Martha made her way down the stairs in her warm fluffy robe and slippers and quickly got the coffee started before putting bacon and eggs on to cook. Before starting the toast, she went to the bottom of the stairs and again called the boys. They came rushing down the stairs and started grabbing bacon before they sat down.
“Mind your manners, sit down right and you may eat,” admonished their mother with a smile.
“Sorry, Mom,” they said in unison.
Adam added, “If you’re going to act like little piggys, we’ll start feeding you in the barn.” The boys thought that was funny but sat down and showed their best table manners.
After breakfast, Martha put on her only nice dress, a navy blue cotton with white buttons, white crocheted collar and belt and tied a colorful scarf around her hair. “Hurry and get dressed,” she urged the boys.
Martha always looked forward to going to church on Sunday and visiting with what close neighbors she knew. It was her only time to socialize and she made the most of it. She had two good friends that she occasionally talked to on the phone but only got to see them on Sundays. After church they talked about their latest quilts, they were working on and exchanged recipes.
Occasionally, Adam would join them in church, but he usually he droped them off and spend his time in front of the small town's only hardware store, smoking his pipe and telling tall tales with his cronies.
Adam made his living doing odd jobs, what carpenter work he could pick up and selling an occasional rick of wood when he was able to get some cut ahead. He always checked the bulletin board in front of the hardware store where he would sometimes find someone wanting to buy firewood. There were postings for odd jobs or fire wood. Pickings were slim today. That was okay because he had plenty to do.
Sunday was the Culver's family day and they always spent the entire day together. After church, the family headed home in Adam's old 1957 Ford pickup. It was dark green, had a lot of rust on the right front fender and the back window had a crack from top to bottom. It was fourteen years old and every year had left its mark. The truck ran well and that was what mattered.
They arrived home shortly after noon and changed from their Sunday best.
“Boys, I want you to kill and pluck the fattest hen you can find and hurry. I want to get it in the oven so we can eat early.”
Martha lit the oven and started a batch of homemade rolls as she waited.
Adam put more wood on the stove, then relaxed in his favorite chair and enjoyed his pipe. Life was good; they didn't realize how good until things started to change.
Chapter 3
Two years later
Martha struggled to get out of bed. She had developed a hacking cough in the early fall and could not seem to shake it. It was now late November and promising to be an especially bad winter. She had canned everything she could from their summer garden and filled the root cellar in the basement with potatoes, onions, squash, apples and pears. Adam and the twins killed both a large doe and a wild hog. The meat was processed and in the cellar.
Adam and the boys stored enough firewood for the coldest winter but Martha just could not chase the chill from her bones. She was never ill and found it very inconvenient that she didn’t feel like doing everything she was used to. Instead of working all day, she found herself setting by the stove or taking naps more often.
“It’ time for you to go see the doctor,” Adam insisted.
“I’ll be fine. I must just have the flue and it will go away soon.”
“You are one stubborn woman. If you don’t feel better by Monday, I’m going to drag you there!”
The twins were now handsome ten year olds and had grown three inches. It was never too cold for the active boys and they gobbled down breakfast anxious to get outside in the fresh ten inches of snow that had fallen silently through the night.
As the boys struggled into their snow gear, they were loudly arguing. “I want to make snow angels,” Myles insisted.
“No,” said Myron. “We need to make a large snow fort before the Indians attack.” As usual, the boys compromised and agreed to do both. They each made snow angels, then started on their fort. They never really argued about anything very long.
Martha dropped onto the couch and Adam stood in the doorway watching her with a worried frown. She has always been a strong, active woman but lately she’s getting weaker and seems to be wasting away before my eyes. I see how hard she’s tried to hide it but is taking more breaks from her busy day than ever before. I’ve been trying to talk her into going to the doctor but she is still resisting. If it keeps up, I guess I’ll just have to pick her up and put her in the truck. Martha was a good woman but she sure had a stubborn streak.
Adam walked outside to the old barn and hurried to the straw pile in the back. Under a loose board towards the back of the pile, he had a bottle of Jim Beam hidden. He quickly downed a couple of gulps to stave off the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach and returned the bottle to its hiding place.
He had quit drinking when he and Martha married and knew how upset she would be if she smelled the whiskey. This was the first bottle he had bought in all the years they had been together. It also needed to be the last. He definitely did not want to upset her, and her prolonged illness worried him.
Adam drove to the nearest neighbor’s house where he was helping to shore up the front porch, which was in danger of falling. The heavy snow wasn't helping. Jim Thompson and his wife, Ellen were their closet neighbor and best friends. After working awhile, Ellen brought them both a cup of coffee and Jim and Adam sat down to visit for a while.
“How’s Martha doing?”
“Not too good,” Adam admitted. “She can’t seem to get over her cough and she’s always tired.”
“Don’t sound like Martha to me. Has she been to the doctor?”
“Refuses to go. Guess I’ll have to throw her over my shoulder and take her in if she don’t get better fast,” Adam stated.
Jim laughed. “Sounds just like Ellen. Just plum stubborn. I guess all women must be that way.”
When Adam returned home at dusk he could hear his wife coughing before he opened the door. The twins were helping their Mother get the evening meal on the table.
“Pa’s home, Momma.”
“Then you better hurry. He’ll be as hungry as a horse!”
Both boys thought that was funny and instead of hurrying, they had to see who could laugh the longest and loudest.
“You’re not laughing at me, are you?” Adam asked and he walked in and picked both boys up.
“No, Pa,” they said as they continued to giggle.
“Well, finish helping your mother while I go wash up. I’m starved.”
That started another round of laughter as the boys pictured their father as a horse, eating hay.”
When Adam walked back into the kitchen, he gave Martha a hug and asked if she was feeling better.
“Somewhat,” she answered as she sat down at the table and started passing the dishes around.
“You don’t look like you feel better. The boys can clean up the kitchen tonight. It’s time they started earning their keep.”
“No, I can do it,” she insisted.
“Don’t argue with me, woman. I said the boys will do it.” Both boys knew not to object.
“We’ll take care of it Momma. You need to rest.”
After dinner, Martha went straight up to bed and Myles and Myron cleaned the kitchen. When they were finished, they raced each other up the stairs to their room. It was time for the Grand Ole Opry and they had to fiddle with the old radio until they could get it to come in clear. They lay and listened to Hank Williams and Ernest Tubb and insisted they would be the best singers on the Opry someday.
“You can’t sing,” insisted Myron.
“Bettern’ you,” Myles said.
Adam sat in his chair and brooded. He had never seen Martha look so weak and she had deep dark circles under her eyes. His wife was the cement that held the family together and he feared that without her they would all cease to exist. He finally banked the fire and went up to bed. Adam lay there most of the night listening to Martha cough in her sleep.
Early Sunday morning Adam made his way down the stairs to stoke the fire and warm up the chilly house. He started the coffee and sat by the stove waiting for Martha to come down. Thirty minutes later, he climbed the stairs to check on her. She tried to get up but she looked so pale he insisted she stay in bed and rest. Adam brought up two steaming mugs of coffee, sat one on the bedside table for Martha and sat down in the only chair in the bedroom.
He was very concerned. Sunday was Martha's day to go to church and visit with her friends. He could not remember a time when she missed going to church. She drank a few sips of the hot brew and drifted back to sleep. He sat and watched her sleep for about an hour with a dark feeling of fear rising in his gut.
Adam went to the hallway, picked up his wife's favorite quilt off the rack and tucked his sleeping wife in good and warm. He looked in on the twins who were enjoying the rare opportunity to sleep in. They looked so much like their mother it made his heart ache.
Adam went out to the barn and made his way back to his hiding place. He felt the whiskey burn down his throat as the heat started to drive away the deep feeling of dread that seemed to be hovering around him like a black cloud. In his younger days, Adam had been a heavy drinker and got in his share of trouble. He had been the kind of mean drunk that picked fights with anyone who had the misfortune to walk too close to him.
Thirteen years earlier, Adam met Martha at a dance and had fallen hard. When she agreed to marry him, he quit drinking and never looked back.
Two years later Myles and Myron were born and he had never been happier. Adam loved his boys. The next ten years had seen it difficulties, but he had never been more content. Adam relished the role of husband and father. The boys, although being loud and rambunctious, were good kids and though he had trouble showing his affection at times, they had a good relationship.
Adam bought the bottle when Martha first started getting ill and only occasionally sneaked out for a quick swallow, when that nagging feeling that he might lose what was the most important thing in his world, his wife, started rising into his throat. It was the only way he knew to push it back down. No way would he be able to keep it together without her.
He went back in to wake the boys and together they fixed a quick meal and took a tray up for Martha. He could see she was trying so hard not to disappoint the boys as she ate a slice of bread and took a few spoons of the hot soup. After eating, she insisted she felt strong enough to go downstairs by the fire. After all, it was Sunday and family day! They always spent Sunday together.
Monday morning, Martha managed to get the boys off to school and Adam off to work and immediately lay back down on the couch by the fire, snuggled under the afghan and went back to sleep. After about three hours, she woke up feeling cold. She got up, stoked the fire, fixed herself a cup of steaming coffee and some toast and sat down in Adam's chair. She tried so hard but she knew she was getting weaker and it was getting harder to hide it from Adam.
Martha knew Adam loved and needed her, but she also knew his weaknesses. She realized he was making more and more trips to the barn and it scared her. He was so concerned for her but already she could see the quick temper show itself when the boys didn't move quickly enough to his commands.
Neither she nor Adam had any close family. It was just the four of them and she feared soon that it would only be three. Adam loved the boys but she really worried about what kind of life they would have if Adam started drinking more. He would fall into the deep depression she could see creeping into their lives. All she could do is pray to keep her strength up through the long winter and hope the sunshine would make her well again in the spring.
Martha was used to always being busy and it really hurt to see Adam and her boys doing their work and having to help her get hers done. Usually all her spare time was spent working on her newest quilt or crocheting something. Now when the work was through for the day, she just did not have enough energy left to do anything. Lately she just sat by the stove, talked to Adam and the boys for a few minutes and went up to bed. She had never slept so much.
Chapter 4
February 1974
The Holidays had come and gone and it was February. It had been an exceptionally bitter winter, but Martha's coughing had settled to an occasional irritation and she was beginning to get back some of her strength. She still couldn't put in a full day's work as she was accustomed to, but with the twin's help she was able to keep up. They were growing up so quickly and their eleventh birthday would be in March. Things were looking up and Adam was beginning to look less stressed. They were going to be okay. She just needed to get some sun.
It was Saturday morning and Myles was sprawled on the living room floor engrossed in a book. Even as cold as it was outside, Myron was tormenting his brother to put down the book and come out to play.
“Can’t we just stay in awhile and read?” Myles asked.
“Nah, that’s boring.”
Myles put down his book and said, “Okay, let’s go Myron.” Hand in hand, the boys headed for their favorite spot in the woods. There was still an inch or two of snow on the ground and Myles made a snowball and hurled it at his brother. It hit the back of his neck and the chase was on. Myron caught up and tackled Myles and they rolled in the snow, exploding in laughter.
The boys made their way to the beginnings of a tree house in a huge oak tree that Adam had helped them start on last summer. So far, it was only a platform with a tarp draped over the limbs above to make a small tent. The twins climbed up to their secret hideaway and dreamed of all the places they would see someday when they were grown. Of course, any plans made always included them both.
“Now, isn’t this more fun than reading?” Myron asked.
Myron looked at Myles and wondered what his brother would do without him there to watch over him and protect him. They were sure they would always be together as they sat there in their fort and dreamed of the future.
Myles proclaimed, “I’m going to be just like Dad when I grow up. I’m going to learn how to fix everything in the world.”
“Not me,” said Myron “I’m going to travel around the world and see everything there is to see. Then I’m going to move out west and be a cowboy and fight Indians.”
“You can’t do that,” insisted Myles.
“Why?”
“Because, you have to stay here with me. We have to stay together.”
“Then you’re going to have to go with me because I’m not spending the rest of my life here. There’s just too much to see.”
We best head for home Myles. Mama will be looking for us.” The boys climbed down and headed home.
It was getting late and the twins heard their father calling them for dinner. It had been a good day and Martha said she felt like getting up in the morning and going to church. They all agreed to go in the morning, even Adam.
The family went to church Sunday morning. All Martha’s friends were glad to see her feeling better. They all gathered around her, hugging her and welcoming her back. She had missed as many Sundays as she attended during the long winter.
“You’ll be as good as new, come spring. All you need is some sunshine on your face and your hands in the warm soil of your gardens,” Ellen insisted.
Martha sure hoped she was right. She was feeling stronger and she was anxious to start her garden. She would feel better just digging her hands into the warm soil.
The boys went to school Monday and since it was Valentine’s Day, they didn’t want to miss it. Myles got three Valentines and Myron received seven. He was always more popular with the girls. They both came home with valentines for their Mother.
They ran into the house yelling “Momma, momma, look at mine first.”
Martha told them “I have never seen any prettier valentines in my life,” and hung them both on the refrigerator.
Things settled into a routine as they anxiously awaited the first signs of spring. On Saturday, March 11, the boys awakened to a steady fall of snow. They were eager to go out and play. Adam looked at the Western sky and remarked that the sky looked dark and warned the twins not to go too far.
“Okay,” they promised as they took off for the woods.
An hour later, Martha asked, “Where are the boys?”
“They probably went to their fort to play.”
“Don’t you think you’d better go find them? It looks like this weather may really get bad.”
“You’re right. I’d better get them in. It looks like we could have a blizzard.” Adam dressed warmly and headed out the back door. Within a few minutes, the wind started to pick up and the snow was getting heavier. Adam stepped out on the back porch and called for the boys. He waited a few minutes and called again. The snow was getting heavier and he could barely see the tree line.
“Stay in the house while I go after them.” By the time he got to the tree line, visibility was close to zero. The raging wind was drowning out his voice.
“Myles, Myron,” he yelled at the top of his voice. Nothing could be heard over the howling wind, the snow was so heavy and blowing right in his face. He trudged closer to the tree line, as he continued calling for the boys.
Martha was watching out the window and could see nothing. She was beginning to panic. The snow was getting heavier and the wind stronger. She prayed that they would all get home safely. Martha bundled up, turned on the porch light, and grabbed Adam's large flashlight. She took the cowbell she used to call the boys when they could not or would not hear her and stepped outside.
The beam of the flashlight would not penetrate the swirling snow. Martha started ringing the bell and stopping to listen. All she could hear was the howling wind. She took a few steps, trying to figure out what to do...then a few more steps and she was completely lost.
Martha turned and walked several feet. I should be back on the porch by now. I must not have turned far enough. I really need to stay where I am until Adam finds me. She stood and rang the bell, knowing that she had to be close enough to the house that Adam would find her when he came back. If she walked anymore, she might be walking further from the house.
Myles finally noticed the rapid change in the weather and the twins were making their way home when they ran into Adam. They could hear the faint ringing of the bell in the distance and headed that way. The wind was at their back so it was easier walking towards the house.
Adam put his arms around the shoulders of the twins and urged them forward. “Your mother will be scared out of her mind if we don’t get back quickly.”
The children picked up the pace.
Martha was panicking. She turned 180 degrees and tried retracing her steps. The wind took her breath away. She started coughing and could not catch her breath and collapsed in a heap in the snow, but kept ringing the bell.
Adam and the boys made their way slowly toward the faint sound of the bell. Sometimes they had to stop and wait until they could pick up the sound over the howling wind.
After struggling toward the sound for another fifteen minutes, Adam stumbled over something in the snow. Leaning down, he found Martha unconscious in the snow. He scooped her up and stood there trying to get his bearings. Adam thought he could see a small flicker of light about eight to ten feet to his left. They hunched over and headed in that direction.
Within five minutes, they were inside and out of their outerwear.
“Get the fire going hot,” Adam told the boys as he settled his wife on the couch. He wrapped her in blankets and gently slapped her face trying to awaken her. Her eyes opened but she was so weak. The boys kept the fire going while Adam insisted, “I’m going for the Doctor.”
Martha looked at him and whispered, “Don’t you dare try to go anywhere in this blizzard. You wouldn’t get thirty feet. I just need to warm up and I’ll be fine.”
The snow was too deep and blowing so hard, Adam couldn’t see three feet in front of him. He was forced to give up. They put a pot of water on the wood stove for steam. Her fever was going dangerously high and he used rags soaked in alcohol to try to bring it down. It wasn't working and she was becoming delirious.
If they could just keep her breathing until daybreak, maybe the blizzard would abate so he could go after the Doctor. Adam sent the boys to bed and sat by Martha, holding her hand for the rest of the night. He kept the fire roaring and did everything he could think of to keep her comfortable, but she was still unconscious and her breathing was raspy and shallow.
Adam never put much stock in prayer, but that night he was on his knees praying for a break in the blizzard and for his wife's life. He promised God if he just let her live he would never take another drink and would be the best husband and father he could be.
At daybreak the next morning, it was still dark and the blizzard still raging. Martha was burning up and fighting for each breath. Adam stripped off the blankets and started wiping her down with a cool rag. His heart filled with rage as he realized how helpless he was. He knelt down and held her, trying to will her to keep breathing. He begged her not to leave him. He just couldn’t make it without her.
Ten minutes later, the boys awoke to the most anguished cry they had heard in their young lives. The boys leapt out of bed and rushed down the stairs. They were too late. Adam stood in the living room holding their mother's fragile body and moaning. A few minutes later they watched Adam gently lay their mother on the couch...raise his fists toward Heaven and curse God! God cursed him back. The twin's childhood ended that day.
Three days later, March 14th, 1974, on the twins 11th birthday Adam drove them to the small country church. Martha’s neighbors were all present for the brief service for their friend. Everyone told Adam how sorry they were and offered their help with anything the family needed.
Some of the closest neighbors brought food with them for the Culvers to take home. Martha’s best friend, Ellen said she would stop by the house, warm up the food and do what she could to help. She assured the boys, she would be there for them if they needed any help. She had always admired Martha and could not believe she was gone and worried that Adam and the boys would be totally lost without her.
After the service, they trudged through the snow to the small cemetery behind the church where Martha was laid to rest. The twins each laid a rose on their mother’s grave and Adam told them it was time to go. He ushered the boys to the truck and they drove home in silence. He dropped the boys at the house, went to the barn to retrieve his bottle and the boys never saw their father sober again.
The twins did the best they could to try to keep the family together. The root cellar and the pantry were full of the food Martha had canned. In the coming months, they were very thankful to have it. Adam was drinking all the time. He still did a few odd jobs but all the money went for his whiskey.
As the boys got older and their father got drunker, they went out and found what odd jobs they could do to buy food. Ellen had been Martha’s best friend and lived the closest. She would come by a couple of times a week to check on the boys and either bring them a home cooked meal, or invite them to her house for a hot meal They would have had a very hard time that first year without Ellen.
Adam was drinking more all the time. He very seldom ate. All he wanted was his bottle. Even the odd jobs he was getting were scarce. The people who had been his friends were getting tired of him showing up to work staggering drunk. They all did what they could for the boys but most of them had run Adam off by now.
The more Adam drank, the meaner he got. The boys had learned to stay out of his sight whenever possible. Anytime they got too close, Adam would take a swing at them. Myles and Myron always had bruises and black eyes. By this time, they had quit going to school. The principal and the boys’ teacher had come to the house and tried to talk Adam into making sure they went to school. After being cursed and thrown out of the house a couple of times, they gave up. Even Ellen was afraid to come to the house anymore. When the twins got too hungry, they would sneak out and go to her house for a meal.
Adam seemed to have forgotten they even existed unless they just accidentally ran in to him. Besides hitting them, he had started dragging them down to the basement and locking them in the root cellar. He usually remembered them within a few hours, went down and unlocked the door, but not always. They had spent the entire night several times in the dark, cold cellar. They would huddle together and pray he would remember to let them out. Even when he did finally come down and unlock their prison, they would sit in the dark, waiting until they were sure he was gone before they left the cellar. They were always afraid of an ambush.
The few times Adam came even close to being sober, he would think about Martha and cry. She would be so furious with me if she’s watching and sees how I’ve been treating the twins. I want to stop but can’t stand to be sober. A drink might push the thought out of his mind. He really did not want to hurt anyone, but just could not control himself.
Adam realized the boys were getting better at avoiding him. Some days he would set in his chair, drink and cry over Martha and promise her he would never hurt them again.
He wanted to hug his boys and tell them how much he loved them. He went looking for them with the best intentions many times. By the time he found them, he had forgotten why he was looking for them. Then they would get another beating or be locked in the root cellar, or sometimes both.
The fog was getting heavier in his mind and he did not remember what he was doing most of the time. He went in the kitchen and occasionally found some food. The boys must have found some way to feed themselves. Sometimes that made him very happy and other times he was furious with the boys for holding out on him.
Chapter 5
September 14, 1977
“Where are we?” Myles cried.
Myron put his arms around his brother and said, “We must be back in the cellar.”
There was no glimmer of light and they couldn’t remember how long they had been there. It was cold but dry. The stench of feces and urine was overwhelming. They had no idea how long they had been imprisoned. Their father had been hauling them down the stairs and locking them in for some time, but usually remembered to let them out in a few hours or by morning. It had been several days this time. Myron reached up to pull the chain to the light.
“It’s burned out,” said Myron, then held his brother while he wept.
“What are we going to do?” Myles sobbed.
“Don’t worry. He’ll come back or we will find some way to get out of here.”
In the three years since their Mother died, Adam had changed from a caring father to a drunken stranger and more recently, a monster. It was useless to try to break through the solid door and the floor and walls were brick. They had no tools. There was no way of telling if it was day or night as not a ray of light penetrated the sturdy root cellar.
They wouldn’t make it much longer without water. The boys sat there imagining all sorts of creatures hiding in the dark corners. They were sure something was going to jump out of the darkness at any moment. It was just so dark, they weren’t able to even see their hands held up to their eyes.
“Myron, I hear something scratching in the corner,” Myles cried as he pressed himself closer to the wall. “What is it?”
“It’s probably just a rat. If so, he’s probably as hungry as we are,” Myron joked, trying to cheer his brother up.
“But I’m afraid of rats.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’re even more afraid of us.”
“What if there are spiders? You know how I hate spiders.”
“We have worse things to worry about. We have to find food and water and a way out.” “Dad’s getting worse all the time. If we don’t start making plans to get away from here, he’s going to end up killing us.”
Myles started crying again. “There’s no way we’ll ever get out of here, and even if we could, we don’t have anywhere to go.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing down here to hurt us.” The boys had been so frightened but now Myron's anger was starting to grow. “When we do get out, we have to make plans to keep this from ever happening again.” He had always been able to protect Myles from everything and did not like the feeling of helplessness that now consumed him.
“But what can we do?” Myles asked. They sat in the darkness and planned what they would do when and if they got out.
Myron remarked,” We’ve got to collect everything we need and store it in the cellar as soon as we get out.”
“But what if we never get out? What if father just leaves us here to die?” Myles questioned.
“Then we’ll have to search the cellar for anything we can use. Maybe we can scratch the mortar from between the bricks if we can find a large nail or piece of glass.”
The boys crawled around the dark cellar carefully feeling for anything they might use. Myles nearly screamed when he crawled through a large spider web but managed to hold it in.
“I found a small rock we can use,” said Myles. He crawled over to the wall and felt around with his left hand. It was too dark to tell the brick from the mortar.
Myron kept searching as Myles tried scraping at the mortar. It would take days at the rate he was going. They were getting hungry and thirsty but there just wasn’t anything left in the cellar. They remembered how full it had been when their mother was alive, and if Adam never came back to let them out, no one would ever find them. All the neighbors had quit stopping by long ago. Adam always ran them off.
The twins were now fourteen years old, four inches shorter and about ten pounds heavier than Adam. They knew how to work and did what they could to feed themselves. It was a joy working in their mother’s garden. They just felt so much closer to her while working in the garden she had loved so much, and the food really helped them out. When they could find work, they did odd jobs for the neighbors to earn a few dollars. They kept the money in an old canning jar in their fort. Their father had not been out there for years. They worked as much as possible but spent most of their days avoiding Adam.
The twins didn't dare come in and go to bed until they knew Adam had passed out. They decided they would probably die in the cellar when they heard someone coming down the basement stairs. They both pushed themselves against the back wall and did not move. Within a few minutes, the heavy door swung open and the boys covered their eyes against even the dim light flooding into their dark prison. They did not even breathe until they heard Adam going back up the stairs, then quietly walked out of the cellar. The boys did not go up the stairs until they figured their father was either gone or passed out.
###
Adam staggered back up the stairs. He could not remember when he had put the boys in the cellar. He had blacked out, but from the stench, they must have been there for several days. He didn't want to hurt the boys but every time he looked at them all he could see was their mother and the old rage would start welling up.
He realized that he had been beating on the boys but he just wasn’t able to control his temper when he was drinking. There were times that just looking at the twins would make him lose control. When he looked at them the only thing he could see was Martha. He knew Martha just would not stand for him hitting her boys. When she was here, he had never even spanked them. How long had it been since they had been a family? Adam had lost track of the time. He had to be more careful or he might really hurt them.
Adam was in his late forties but looked to be in his sixties. The last few years had taken their toll on his health and his mind. He was dirty, unshaven and his hair had grown long and tangled. For the first year or so after Martha died, he tried to do a small job now and then to keep food in the house and buy his whiskey. After passing out or not showing at all at so many jobs, no one wanted to take a chance on him. As soon as he let the twins out, he went out to the barn and passed out.
The boys immediately started making plans. Before they figured how and where they would go, they had to prepare for the possibility of being locked in the cellar again. First, they took a long warm shower and then started preparing.
First, they went downstairs and changed the burnt out bulb in the cellar. They stored a second bulb wrapped in a towel and hidden at the back of the top shelf. Then they got a bucket of hot water and a broom, scrubbed the cellar and left it open to dry out.
The twins went upstairs, gathered warm blankets and pillows, a small flashlight and filled every container they could find that had a lid with fresh water. They hid all this under the empty baskets in the cellar. Next, they located a porcelain bucket and hid it in the cellar.
It was time to gather up what tools they would need. Myron found a crowbar, hammer and large screwdriver and laid them on one of the shelves. The shelves, now empty, had been filled with their Mother's carefully canned produce. They made it through their last ordeal by breaking the top off a couple of jars of peaches, drinking the liquid and eating the fruit greedily with their fingers. Myles and Myron took one of the empty baskets, filled it with apples and pears from the trees in the back yard and stored it in the cellar.
They had one more task before they could rest and plan. Going back to the cellar, Myron took the tools and loosened the hasp on the heavy door just to the point that it was not readily obvious. In the state their father was in, it was not likely that he would notice. Myles looked around for anything else in the basement they might be able to use.
After finishing in the basement, they retreated to their room to rest and make plans.
For the next couple of weeks, Myles and Myron managed to stay out of Adam's way. They spent the time washing and patching what few clothes they had and packing everything they thought they might need into a duffle bag. They took the picture of them and their Mother and carefully wrapped and packed it among their clothing.
The boys needed to make some money to travel on so they spent their days doing odd jobs for their neighbors. The neighbors were all glad to see the boys after the absence of their father for so long. Everyone told them what a pleasant fellow their father had been and what a good worker. They knew things had changed drastically since Martha's death. Ellen, who had been Martha’s closest friend, insisted the boys stay for a hot meal each time they did a job for her.
“What have you boys been doing since Martha died? I never see your father anymore,” Ellen asked.
“Dad spends most of his time drinking now. We’re doing fine. You don’t need to worry about us,” Myron said.
“Well you both come back anytime you want a hot meal or need help of any kind,” Ellen insisted
“Thanks Ma’am. We will.” Myles promised.
###
Adam came slowly out of his drunken stupor and glanced around. He didn't remember seeing the twins for a few days. They were either up to something or were getting better at avoiding him. He staggered down the stairs and checked the stove. The fire was nearly out and it was chilly. He threw a few pieces of wood in the stove and waited until the fire was burning good again. Making his way into the kitchen, he realized he was hungry and had no idea how many days since he had eaten.
He decided to put on a pot of coffee but the canister was empty. When he opened the refrigerator, it was empty except of a few moldy shapes that he could not begin to guess what they had been originally. There was half a bottle of clabbered milk, an empty and dried up bottle of ketchup and a few slices of green bacon. He closed the door in disgust and went to the pantry.
When Martha had been alive, it was always well stocked with her home canning and a variety of store bought cans and jars. Now the only thing he saw were a few cans scattered across the nearly empty shelves. He ignored the can of corn, the can of tomatoes and checked the next shelf. He passed over three cans of hominy. On the top shelf, clear at the back, he found one can of vegetable soup. Adam carried it back into the kitchen, found a small saucepan, a can opener and heated the soup on the stove. He carried the pan to the table and sat down to eat. His stomach hadn't felt food for so long he wasn't sure it would stay down so he ate very slowly and tried to clear his head.
Adam had been blacking out so often, he didn't know what month it was, let alone the date. He walked upstairs for a long overdue shower and tried to think. The sharp sting of the hot shower was invigorating and he shook his head and tried to clear out the cobwebs. Tonight, he would go to bed and try to sleep instead of just falling unconscious.
Adam slept for eighteen hours before groggily trying to lift his head. Stumbling down the stairs, he tried to decide whether he wanted breakfast or a drink. After a quick glance around the empty kitchen, he decided to stick with the bottle.
He had tried but it was just too hard. Adam felt so bad about leaving his boys in the basement as long as he had the last time. He realized that if he hadn’t started to sober up and remember, they would both have died. He laid his head in his arms and sobbed. He couldn’t live with what he had done.
He heard Martha’s voice in his head. She was so ashamed of the way he was doing and was insistent that he sober up and take care of the twins. Adam felt even worse now. He had always loved his family and put them first. Now, he was nothing but a drunk. His wife was gone, none of his friends and neighbors trusted him enough to even stop by and it was entirely his fault.
As soon as the fog started lifting from his brain, the memories started crowding in and he wasn't ready to face that. He dug out his last bottle and it only had a couple of inches left. It was time to get another. He searched all his hiding places and found nothing. His pockets held only a quarter and three dimes. What could he do? It was time those worthless boys earned their keep.
Adam drained the bottle, threw it aside and started yelling for the boys. They had been doing odd jobs. Maybe they had some cash. He lumbered up the stairs shouting their names. No boys! He searched the bedrooms and then went back downstairs. After searching the rest of the house, he went down to the basement. The cellar door was partially open so he hadn't locked them in.
Adam went out and searched the barn, still screaming the boys’ names. The longer he looked the angrier he was becoming. Then he remembered their old fort in the woods. They used to hide from him there when he was in a rage. That’s where they must be.
Adam went into the woods and to their fort. The boys had built a makeshift ladder up to the platform. He climbed up and looked around. It looked like they had been spending some time here. He climbed onto the platform and crawled around. There was a hollow in the tree and he could see a rag hanging out. He reached in and pulled out a canning jar wrapped in an old towel. Adam reached in the jar, pulled out a small roll of bills and shoved them into his pocket. Those worthless boys had been holding out on him. He would teach them a lesson, but first he had to go to town and get a bottle.
Adam climbed into the old truck and pointed it toward town. It took eight dollars to fill the truck with gas. Then he went to the tavern and picked up three bottles of Jim Beam. He used to have many friends in town, but now everyone pretended to be busy or not to see him. Well, screw them. He had all he needed.
He climbed back in the truck and pulled the rest of the cash from his pocket. There was still twenty-three dollars. Adam forgot about being hungry and steered the truck toward home. The more he thought about the twins hiding that money from him, the angrier he became. By the time he reached the house, a quarter of the first bottle was gone and he was in a rage.