Chapter
Gaming the Game
A few mornings had passed.
They had fallen into a routine of sorts. Beating Scotty upon wakeup had become a regular part of this routine. Scorning Joe for sleeping in and accusing him of liking the feeling of lying in the wetness had also become something to expect. Breakfast, chores, lunch, quiet time, supper and bed, and waking up the next morning to beatings and various methods of torment started the day anew. When and where they would be subjugated to Tom's wrath in between remained always to be seen.
One evening Paul was up there with the boys as they prepared for bed. That wasn't the normal way of things. Paul usually liked this time to himself. As long as the boys remained quiet and did nothing to draw his attention, this time would usually be to themselves too. Tonight though, he was working on Scotty. A preemptive measure of sorts to limit his workload for the next morning.
Paul's tactic this night was to stuff his pantaloons with extra rags. Not a bad idea. Joe thought. Something he probably could have been doing from the beginning. Why he hadn't thought of doing that before, or if he had, why hadn't he kept up on it?
The way he went about it though wasn't gentle…or kind. He didn't strike the boy but he was rough with him. The spurns and scorns as he worked added to the ugliness of his actions.
To be fair though, it had worked, (for the most part) though a little still leaked through onto the sheets which they were to discover when Tom came back in the following morning to wake them. None had gotten onto Joe though.
This diminished amount wasn't enough to save Scotty from Tom's wrath.
What had made it onto the sheets was enough for Tom to feel that they still needed to be washed and now he had the added laundry of the rags in which he had used to stuff the pantaloons. His frustration with the boy had multiplied at what he considered to be a failed effort. He didn't tie Scotty. He just knocked him around and at one point put his face into the sheets.
Even though Scotty wasn't tied, looking on at Tom's treatment was enough to twist Joe's innards. He wanted to step in. He wanted to run to him and stop him. He wanted to say something to get him to stop but that never worked. He knew by now that nothing he did could ever stop it.
"What say you, Joe? You got something to say about this?" Tom must have seen the look he was bearing. Must have caught on to his indecision. "Do you think this is wrong?"
He knew he was being baited. Tom wanted Joe to speak against him so he would have a reason to throw him in the hole again, but he didn't give in. He just stared on with cinched lips.
Apparently, his silence hadn't been enough.
"Wait. Where are we going?" He asked as Tom charged over and grabbed him by a fistful of hair, taking him from the room. "I didn't do anything. I didn't say anything." He tried to get Tomlinson to hear him as he was drug down the stairs so helplessly by his hair.
Outside he continued to plead his case. "What did I do? I didn't do anything." The door opened up and he was thrown down those steps staring up at Tom as he closed the door above him.
God why? Why was he here again? What did he do? When Tom tried baiting him, he didn't take to it. Tom's actions were pure wanton. There was no rhyme or reason for this. It was just cruelty. He hadn't done anything wrong. I mean Scotty leaked through but what had Joe done. He didn't challenge him this time. Oh, he wanted to, but he didn't. He held back. Perhaps the internal battle he was having had come out in his countenance. That was enough for Tom.
God, he hated Tom. He mulled slamming his healing fist against the banister before he could think about it. It hurt, but it did not overpower his anger.
He took a breath to center himself and looked around.
At least this place was not as bad anymore. He was prepared for this. He could get through. He knew how.
He still had food and water left. Not as much water as food. With as sparing as he tried to be the last time he was down here, he still needed it.
Now he found himself staring at the bottom of the decanter.
The good news was that it wouldn't fill up his bladder. The bad, he was already filling the weight, what with not even the chance to relieve himself upon waking. Finding another empty jar, he took care of his business and placed that one adjacent the one he had filled days prior. He couldn't let them build up. He would have to take care of them when he gets out, whenever that would be.
Feeling the pangs of morning hunger, he drew upon those berries. The coolness of the hole had prolonged their lifespan but even now as he picked at them, he could see and taste that they had lost their freshness. Some may have even started to turn. He ate what he could and put the rest away, vowing to change out the bowl when he got the opportunity to do so. Replacing it with more berries would mean he would have to go berry hunting again and he wasn't quite sure he was ready for that. There was dried bread and crackers in here that he could fall back on next time. As long as he made sure to fill up the decanter they wouldn't be as miserable to intake.
~.~
He has spent short hours in here before. He was hoping that this would be one of those times because, I mean, after all, what were his crimes? He never really knew about Tom though, where his mind was at and what he had prepared for him on any given day, so he mentally prepared himself to be in here for the long-haul.
He was fortunate enough though. Tom had only made him spend a few hours in here. He was let out sometime near the noon hour.
When Tom stood in the opening for Joe to exit, he did so with a snide remark.
"I hope you didn't think that you were getting out of your chores." Tom had to throw his spurn in there to let him know how lazy he thought Joe was. "Eat your lunch then go out and take care of them. You get to take care of them during the hottest part of the day. Too bad you don't get to spend the day in the cool shed with me."
Joe just returned a peevish look.
"Eat."
Left alone, the boys had finished their meal in silence.
When it was time to start their chores, they went out to Mule first. Joe knew he had to keep Scotty busy for a bit while he took care of his misdeeds in the cellar and replenished his supplies. Scotty liked being out here with Mule so he let him have a little extra time with him. He assured that he would get started on the trees without him.
It didn't take long to set himself up for the next time, whenever that would be. He was already mostly done with the first row of trees before Scotty met him out in the new orchard. Together they finished the trees. It was a warm day but nothing too miserable. Nothing to complain about anyhow. It was much better being out here than anywhere near Tom or alternatively in that hole in the ground.
~.~
The rest of the day had passed without incident... well almost.
They had a nice dinner and afterwards went up to get themselves ready for bed. This was when the new trouble began.
Scotty had climbed into bed. Joe wasn't far behind, when they heard Tom storming up the stairs. Without a word he barges in. Going directly to his boy, he rips Scotty out of bed and throws him to the floor. At first Joe thought that Scotty was in for another beating but for the life of him he couldn't think of why. Without a word the pater left the room. It was curious to Joe. There was no rhyme nor reason to it. Did he just do that to be mean?
He went to the bundled child to lift him, when he heard the stomping ascending the stairs. They both waited shoulder to shoulder to see what more would happen.
A moment later Tom barged back in with a blanket. Joe recognized it as the threadbare one that normally lined the bottom of the closet. It appeared as if Tom had cleaned it.
He laid it out on the floor next to Scotty, pointing down to it and telling him that that was where he was to spend the night. He expressed how tired he was of washing all the linen every day.
This hardly seemed fair to Joe. When Scotty reached for his pillow and green blanket the father pulled it from his grasp. "You think I want to have to wash this?" and flung it aside. Scotty gulped. "Lay down."
The boy obeyed curling up on the tattered blanket with nothing to cover himself and nothing to rest his head upon. The threadbare doing little to cushion him from the hard floor. Joe climbed onto the soft mattress on Tom's orders. Warm and protected under the comforter and knitted blanket he looked down upon this delicate child, whom long after Tom had left kept himself turned away.
Hours went by in the dark. Joe was sure Scotty was crying as he heard an occasional whimper and sniffle. His heart ached for this lonely child curled up on the floor. This might have been something his mother would have protected him from but tonight there was only Joe.
When he was sure the house went dark, Joe pulled the green knitted blanket off the bed (which he was starting to think the boy favored over the white comforter) and his own pillow and crawled in next to Scotty, lying with him on the floor maneuvering the pillow under the head of his younger companion so they may both share it. He methodically wrapped the blanket over the boy and drew him in close so they were both underneath it.
His heart ached for the boy again. He needed so much more than protection. He needed love. He pulled the boy in as close as he could, remembering how his older brothers did this when he felt grieved.
He thought of his brothers now. How Adam held him after his ma had died. How Hoss had held him when Adam went off to college. Yes. There was a time or two that they'd even protected him against their own pa. Though his pa didn't seem nearly as bad as this old man. There's a lot to be said for the protection of an older brother. Joe's never really thought about it that much before. He's just accepted it as something he'd always have. Something constant, something regular. It was only now when they were gone and he longed for them so much, and he was the older brother, that he understood the significance of this role.
His mind drifted to these thoughts.
~.~
It was bright in the room but this wasn't what woke him. There was a disturbance in the air. Something that flooded his body with a sense of 'wrong'. He shot open his eyes to see Tom sneering down at them from the doorway.
"You really do like lying in piss, don't you?" Joe's heart fluttered. Scotty stirred at the intrusion which made Joe instinctively want to draw the boy in closer. Both boys awake but afraid to move. He does not regret what he'd done, only what he knew would happen because of it.
"I wanted to avoid the extra work but that's not good enough for you, is it? Look at this mess." He pulled the blanket up and threw it aside. Joe was drenched just as Tom had expected he would be. "Look at you."
He knew he messed up. He also knew it would have been wrong to leave Scotty alone on the floor.
It wasn't Scotty he reached for this time. It was Joe he snatched up. He dragged him from the room through the house and to the outside. Joe didn't beg for leniency this time as much as he was tempted to. He had too much pride for that now. He was not going to be made to feel ashamed for being there for Scotty when he needed him. There was too much pride, that and an inflated sense of confidence that time in the hole was no longer going to hurt him.
But he didn't take him to the hole. He swung the boy to face him then threw him backwards causing him to stumble. His back met the wash basin and Joe felt like a trapped animal.
"Get up!"
This had been a violent shove. The pain at his back and the anger Tom had as he stood over him caused the boy to tremble as he grabbed the edge of the basin to lift himself. Tom did not wait for him to grab his footing. He charged forward lifting the boy over the edge and dunking him in. His world went topsy-turvy and Joe panicked, fearing the prospect of being held underneath the surface, he flailed and clawed for the edge and lifted himself, sucking in an icy breath. Tom had left him at that, disappearing back into the house. He coughed and sucked. The fear was there. The action behind it was not.
A moment later he could hear the snapping of the whip cutting through the morning air and the howling cries of a meek boy.
After getting over his stupor and trying to figure out what Tom had expected of him, he crawled out of the tub.
With trembling fingers, he proceeded to undress himself shedding off his soaked wear. He'd only made it as far as his shirt when Tom came back into view. He had a bundle under his arm which had some familiarity. Taking Joe by the arm he dragged him from the basin. Now he knew where he was going. He conjured up that strength. He would be okay now. At least he would get some reprieve from Tom.
When he was thrown down those steps and his clean linen thrown in after (for this was the bundle he had tucked under his arm) the boy didn't scramble up this time. Even though his heart beat bongos within his chest and his hands still trembled, he picked himself up patted down his muddy knees, stood upright and swiped the water from his mouth. This place had become less of a place to fear, now that he had prepared his stay.
He knew he had not been wrong for holding Scotty like he had. He would not be made to feel ashamed for it.
With drenched hair and clothes, he eyed Tom who was in the midst of closing the door. He did so as bravely as he could.
He could do this, he's got nothing to fear, he coaxed himself.
When Tom locked eyes with him he stopped and there was a flash of confusion written on him. He gave Joe a funny look but the boy continued his obstinate stare. Tom was not going to win this one. He was not going to let Tom get the better of him.
The monster closed the door above sealing him in and Joe breathed relief.
He could no doubt make it through another miserable couple of days if he had to. His concern was for Scotty now.
He thought of Scotty and wondered how he was faring. Had he been locked up too. Did he go back to whipping him? Will Tom try to drown him? Was there something else, some worse action he has decided to commit on his son today? The myriad of ways he could find to hurt his son.
He was here and Scotty was, well wherever Scotty was. Where was Scotty? Was he locked in the closet again? Or was he still in the process of getting his bath? A chill rose up the young Cartwright. Bath or drowning? He shook It away. He couldn't think of that now. There was nothing he could do for him…was there?
Well, there wasn't anything he could do for him right now that's for sure but was there something he could do to stop this all from happening? No. That was a hard no. Wasn't it? No. He can't stop all this from happening. He wished he could but he couldn't. There was no way.
He couldn't stop it but what if he could make it better? Was there a way to do that?
Somehow maybe.
He'd made it better for himself if even a little. He felt a twinge of guilt as he thought of Scotty locked in the closet, with no food and water. But then he recalled seeing water and food crumbs in there. Was that enough for him? Was his father giving his son regular rations? It was impossible to know. For sure he hadn't let him use the outhouse. That would explain the other stains he found as well as the red rashes that never seem to go away on his son's thighs.
Maybe he couldn't do anything for his time there either, but was there something else he could be trying. Something that could keep Scotty out of trouble, or at least lessen it.
Joe had a lot of time to think while he was in that hole this time.
He sat and he thought, and he mulled, and he plotted, and he planned.
Wetting the bed was one of the biggest excuses Tom had for hurting Scotty. Every day he'd come up with more inventive ways to torment his son. This was all so new to Joe but he got the feeling that these were things that Tom had been doing to his boy all along. Way before he and his family had ever entered the picture. They were only just being revealed to Joe now because Tom could only hide who he is for so long. Well as long as he was there, Joe committed to doing everything he could (short of fighting the domineering knave.) to stop it from happening, or at least lessen it.
He saved himself. He'd been released from here yesterday having gotten away with his misdeeds. He had saved himself from further discipline while also keeping himself alive. He decided he would go further than this. He needed to try and save Scotty too. Give Tom as little to complain about as possible. Limit his reasons for hurting his son. The best way he found to do this was to get ahead of the pater.
He couldn't stop Scotty from wetting the bed but if he did everything right, he could ensure that there was no mess for Tom to find when he came in in the morning. He knew he couldn't smuggle the linen past the pater but there was another way. Why this hadn't occurred to Joe before? He hadn't considered that it would ever get as bad as it had gotten. Now he knew he had to do this. He had to at least try. He'd made the promise with himself to do just that.
After all the kinks had been hashed out he promised himself one more thing. That when Tom would let him out, he would hold his head up high.
~.~
When he was let out that afternoon that's exactly what he did. Tom had taken him into the house through the living quarters without word, without scorn and without directions but he could feel the judgment of the pater at his back.
Joe could see there were sandwiches made for them. Scotty already sitting before his. Joe went to move but Tom snatched him and swung him around, grabbing up his face in a painful grip and eyeing Joe as if looking for evidence of indiscretion. Where a moment ago there was nothing but pride, now his walls of certainty was beginning to crumble. He wondered if there was something Tom could see in him. Certainly, there would be no evidence of water on his lips but how about the berries. He didn't intake as many of them this time. Was it enough? Did they leave a stain? God, if they had, it might appear as if he'd gotten into the wine again. This could be worse for him than he thought.
Tom let him go with a shove. There must not have been anything there for him to see. He gulped and breathed relief. Tom walked out.
~.~
While Tom was away in his shed, Joe put his plan into action.
He had prepared a clean set of sheets and blankets and hid them under the bed during the day.
The boys had called it an early night that night. If his plan was going to work, he would need the rest. As they were preparing for bed, he had stuffed Scotty's underwear with cloth to soak up the majority of the urine as he had seen Tom do. It worked for the most part but not entirely. He had soaked through this cloth to the sheet underneath. That was okay, Joe thought. This would give him a chance to put his plan to work.
"Come on get up. Get up." At first light, he pushed at the boy to wake him before Tom had a chance to come in. "Get that off you." He said speaking of the makeshift diaper. The boy groggily heeded. Joe stripped the bed. He grabbed up the rag and wet it in the basin he made sure to fill yesterday, wiping the boy down. Get dressed. Joe opened the window and threw the sheets out including the towel that he had laid beneath the sheets to soak up the extra moisture. Grabbing the fresh linen that he had hidden the night prior he stretched it out and hastily made the bed. "Help me with the other corner."
The footsteps thundered up the steps portending of Tom's arrival. Joe snapped upright at the intrusion. Both boys did. Tomlinson ceased at the curiosity of these two. Joe at the foot, Scotty at the head, a half hazard blanket strewn atop white sheets. He saw his boy was dressed. Joe too. If he could see Joe's heart ready to explode from his chest but Joe kept a cool demeanor hoping to hide what his heart endeavored to give away. Taking a closer glance, the despot saw the sheets beneath the blanket were clean. No dirty clothes lay in a pile. Looking back at Joe, he read him. He was sure Tom could see right through his deceit. Tom gave the slightest indication he could when the side of his mouth rose up just a hint.
"Breakfast is just about ready." He said before turning to leave. The weight that was lifted when they were left alone was indescribable.
~.~
The master had spent the entirety of that meal wholly ignoring the boys. Before they had even finished their plates, he'd left them to head out to the shed, taking his paper and coffee with him. Leaving the boys to clean the table without actually telling them to do so. Taking the cue, they didn't wait for direction. Whence the food had been put away and the table cleaned, this would be Joe's time to do what he needed to do.
He escaped outside, Scotty in tow, to gather the linen that had befallen beneath the sill. He had to breach into the courtyard in order to wash them in the basin which stood direct center between the house and the shed. If Tom was to come out in that time, he would see what Joe was up to, which was a nerve-racking experience. He felt pins and prickles in his shoulders the entire time he washed those sheets. As it would have it, Tom never did come out to catch him.
The lines were at the back of the house. Grabbing the soaked linen, they could finally escape out of view. Once hung, his misdeeds would be out of sight unless Tom were to peek his head around.
He stood back to look at his deed, swaying in the slight breeze and dripping water on the dirt.
"Come on." Joe directed. "Let's go water Mule." He led Scotty to get started on their morning chores. Feeding and watering the horse then watering the trees. Because of their late start, this took them right up to lunch time. Joe went right in and made lunch for the three of them.
By the time Tom came in to make the sandwiches Joe and Scotty were already at the table eating theirs. Tom had gone through the kitchen first. He must have seen his portion hiding under a rag which Joe placed in plain sight on the counter next to the wash basin. Joe was certain that no mess had been left behind for Tom to find. He had taken extra care to clean after himself before he and Scotty had gotten to the table. Still, he wondered if Tom would find something to complain about. He never could be certain when it came to that man.
Tom peeked his head in to eye the boys. He read one then the other. Saying nothing he went back into the kitchen. A moment later he was walking across the courtyard with his plate in hand, disappearing into the shed. Joe breathed out a sigh of relief for this small victory.
After their lunch Joe knew Tom would be preoccupied for a while so he took this opportunity to change out his misdeeds in the cellar. Washing the putrid glass and putting that back where he had found it, then refilling the water canter and hiding that back underneath the steps.
He didn't mind if Scotty knew about his misdeeds. He was sure he would understand and would not give him up but if Joe did ever get caught for this, he wanted it to be his problem and his alone. Therefore, he found it best to keep Scotty preoccupied. In the time it took Joe to clean out and replenish his supplies he had assigned Scotty to strip the table and wipe it down and wash up the dishware as he knew now that this was something he was capable of doing.
When all was clean, they went back to the rear of the house and waited there for the sheets to dry not quite sure what to do with their time while they waited. Was there something more he could be doing that would curve Tom's anger? Out of ideas they sat and waited.
When the time had come and the sheets dry Scotty helped Joe take them up the stairs to hide them again for later use. It had come full circle. They had gotten away with their cover-up.
~.~
Tom didn't seem to be quite in a rush to wake them the next morning. The boys were given enough time to strip the bed and make it proper this time. Both boys dressed and ready for the day had waited for Tom to come in. When the pater had finally come through there was a sly satisfaction to him as he scanned them and then the room. He opened the door wide in silent direction for them to come down.
The rest of the day turned out much like that of yester. They ate breakfast in silence. Tom going off to his work after. The boys cleaning the table then afterwards going out to take care of the linen. Washing in nerve-racking earnestness and hanging every soaked piece that had been thrown beneath the sill. Feeding and watering Mule. Getting water to the trees. Going in to make Tom and themselves lunch and ensuring the kitchen was up to par.
Tom had not come in to see them during this time at all. There was no checking up on them. He went directly into the kitchen from outside, saw his sandwich and took it out to the shed with him without peeking his head in at the boys. There wasn't a 'thank you' for the good job he'd been doing but Joe wasn't expecting one. Him leaving them alone was plenty 'thanks' enough. He suppressed a giddy smile. Scotty seemed to be more dumbfounded at the lack of attention but grateful too.
~.~
Supper was a late one. So late in fact that Joe wondered whether Tom was trying to tack this on as Joe's chore too. Would Tom want him to go in and try and whip up supper? He wouldn't know the first thing about how to do that. I mean Hopsing's taught him some. His pa a bit more. Adam and Hoss have added a bit of what they know. With all this, was there enough knowledge in his brain to go at it from scratch without any oversight, if he had to? He wasn't sure. Should he try? Should he start looking to try and figure something out? Another thought came. What if he does start scrounging around in Tom's kitchen and this isn't really what he wants. What if it only offended Tom? Then again if he didn't make supper for the three of them would Tom use this as a reason to be upset? With Tom you never really knew what would offend him.
About the point where Joe had decided that it had gotten too late. That he'd better go in there to see what he could find Tom had opened the door to the shed and was walking across the courtyard. Seeing him through the dining room window, Joe refrained from going into the kitchen at that point. Whatever was done or not done at that point must remain to be seen by Tom. It was too late now to try and change anything. Joe would just have to wait to see what Tom thought of the matter.
The aloof man went in through the kitchen and remained there. Within minutes Joe heard the rattling of pans. Thirty minutes later supper was on the table. It wasn't anything fancy. Some of those fresh vegetables he'd seen in the cellar just days ago steamed up and some mashed up baked potatoes.
They finished their meal without complaint from either party, cleaned up and readied for bed.
~.~
The following morning Tom hadn't come up to get them at all. They did what they needed to do upstairs and at Tom's absence crawled down the stairs to the older man who was waiting at the breakfast table nibbling on toast and reading his paper.
"You are taking care of your chores, aren't you Joe?" He asked when they took their seats.
Joe gulped before answering not knowing just how much Tom knew or where he was going with this.
"Yes sir." But Tom said nothing more. He took up his paper and coffee and left off to the shed.
Joe took care of his chores just in the proper order and in good time too. His hand had been healing well and he was capable of holding two buckets at a time again.
After lunch Scotty and he had gone out to wander the grounds at the back of the house to wait for the sheets to dry. Even a few berries had made it into their mouths.
~.~
This routine had gone on for some days now. This plan was working perfectly and Tom had never questioned why all of a sudden Scotty would have stopped wetting the bed. Joe wondered if Tom really knew. Was he okay with Joe taking on this responsibility, however deceptive he was trying to be? The good thing was Joe had made it this entire time without upsetting Tom enough to lock him in the cellar again. If he could have just avoided that, he could have waited out the rest of his time here. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.
~.~
Joe had awoken the following morning to Tom barging into their room. He grabbed the older boy and yanked him straight out of bed. Not fully awake he stumbled as he tried to catch his footing. Coming into his senses he realized why he was still so out of it. It was still mostly dark. The sun hadn't even come up yet. A fistful of shirt he dragged Joe out of the room and down the stairs.
"No. Wait! Where are we going?" He asked this even as he knew the answer. He just didn't know why. In this half-alert and vulnerable state, his primal instinct's took over reasoning. He didn't have the sense not to panic. "What did I do?" He uttered. Out the door into the crisp air. "What did I do? I didn't do anything." But Tom was intent. "Please. I didn't do anything." Around to the side of the house. "Oh God. No. Please. I didn't do anything. Please. What did I do!?" Tom held Joe with one arm and fiddled with the latch with the other. "Please Mr. Tomlinson. Please don't put me in there." It was to no avail. He was thrown down and the lid shut tight. "What did I do?" He cried out. "I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything." He bemoaned.
He let go his false confidence in one shaky breath. There was a crack in his armor.
