The Lastoc of the Annumpi: Lemuel’s Attic

Part 7

Lemuel opened one eye and was blinded by the blazing morning sun streaming through the window. He heard his brothers and sisters stomping around downstairs, so he decided to remain in bed until they went down to breakfast. When it was quiet he would get up, dress, and sneak into the noisy dining room. No one would miss him. They never did. He dozed off for a while and woke to silence. Above him the familiar sloping roof angled down to the low wall against which his cot stood. Imaging the thundering chaos of his many siblings tumbling into the kitchen, his parents lost in their own thoughts, oblivious to the confusion, Lemuel said a little prayer of thanks for the sanctuary he had discovered in the attic.  

“Another day,” he sighed and thought, “I better eat and then get out of the way somewhere.”

Lemuel tried to sit up, but he was unable to move. He tried to lift his arms, but they were lashed to the cot. His head was not tied down, so he lifted it a few inches and peered down the length of his body. Three strong bands of linens lashed him to the cot. 

Lemuel turned his head and saw his youngest brother and sister sitting on a stool, silently watching him. “Untie me before Julius comes back,” he begged. “He’ll never know you did it.” It had to be Julius. “Or go get Oliver. He’ll help.”  He was frightened and furious. HIs sanctuary had been discovered and the youngest children had been ordered to stand guard over him. He was afraid to imagine what Julius might be planning. “Help me,” he pleaded. 

The children stared blankly at him. Then they turned and looked at one another. Moving as one, they leapt up, knocking over the stool, and raced to the door. Lemuel heard them pounding down the steps. He laid back his head, gritted his teeth, and wished again, for the thousandth time at least, that he were invisible.

*****

The children had gathered considerable momentum from their wild flight down the stairs. They half stumbled, half leaped down the final flight, bouncing off the walls and each other and cannoning through the door to the library. Don Hernando had been using a magnifying glass to scrutinize the crabbed handwriting of the old land records of the region. When the door of the library flew open, slamming against the wall, and the two projectile children rocketed past him, he nearly dropped the hand glass and his papers were tossed about in the whirlwind. Before he could even identify the culprits, they had smashed through the door of Maria’s study and abruptly came to halt when they slammed into the side of Maria’s desk. The children, sprawled on the canvas floor cloth where they had landed after bouncing of the desk, drew in great gulps of air and then shouted, a little out of time, “He’s awake! He’s awake!,” then they fell on their backs, stunned by their wild efforts.

Maria put down her book and quickly looked over the children with a practiced eye. Bumps, bruises, a few scrapes, no harm done. “Thank you, Mariel. Thank you, Sean. When you catch you breath, please tell you Grandmother our guest is awake.” She rose from her desk and raising the hem of her dress, she stepped over the fallen children.  As she did she nudged each of them with her foot and said, “And if you touch anything in my study, I will tie you up and hang you from the barn pulley by your feet.” She left the the room and heard giggling behind her, but she no doubts her precious collections were safe.

After stopping in the library for a few moments to calm her father and help him collect his papers, Maria walked slowly up to the attic room. She had given much thought the man, but she still had no idea what to say to him. She hoped his ravings were caused by his fever. But how would that explain his strange actions four nights ago? She was afraid that he might be mad. He might even be dangerous.

At the second floor landing, she began to hear the furtive whispering of an argument on the next floor. The volume was steadily increasing as tempers heated. 

“Move over!,” hissed a child’s voice.

“I just got here!,” snapped another.

“You’ve had your ten count. It’s my turn,” whined a third.

“Shut up, all of you. You’ll get us all in trouble,” advised a fourth nervously.

“Too late,” interjected Maria standing at the top of the attic stairs, her arms folded, her lips pursed. A crowd of children was pressed against the door to one of the attic rooms, kneeling to see through the key hole. The children turned and stared at Maria panic stricken, stiffened into statues by the very picture of indignant female justice glaring at them. The Gorgon would have been proud.

“You were told to leave the poor man alone.” Maria paused, laying out the charges and waiting to see if any of the children would offer an excuse. None dared. Good, she thought. They’re getting smarter. “Now go downstairs. We shall discuss this matter later. And if you see your Grandmother, tell her I would like her to come up here when she is free.” The children all nodded and trooped off in a neat, single file line that maintained its order until the stairs turned and then the pace quickened Maria could hear whispered accusations. A few muffled thumps of blows being exchanged echoed up the stairs. Maria waited for quiet to fill the space left by the children then she smoothed her dress, swept her hands through her hair to calm herself, and quietly opened the door.

Maria winced when she saw the man tied to cot. She always did and it made her angry that she hadn’t managed to control her reaction. She walked over to the bed and picked up the stool the children had knocked over. She pulled the stool into Lemuel’s field of vision and sat down. The man was lying with his eyes tightly shut. “Hello, sir,” she said, not too loudly. “Are you awake?”

Lemuel opened his and staring at the ceiling  said forlornly, “So you can see me.”

“Yes. Should I not be able to see you?” Maria was confused. This was not what she expected.

“You’d be surprised. I have the power of invisiblity, but it comes and goes.”

Maria decided to let him talk. She didn’t know what else to do.

“It is the one power of filiusquartus,” said Lemuel bitterly, still squeezing his eyes shut.

There was a pause while Maria waited for Lemuel to speak. She hoped Mrs. O’Brien would get there soon. She’d never seen her not know what to do. After a while, Lemuel snapped open his eyes, and said, “Is Oliver coming?” 

Turning his head, Lemuel saw Maria and narrowed his eyes to tighten his focus. “Who are you?,” he asked in a weak, confused voice. Seeing the strange face seemed to drag his mind out of the past. His eyes flicked across the room and took in the neat, if somewhat spartan surroundings. The old crates and broken furniture were gone. He looked at the window and saw only sky through the branches of a plane tree. Mr. Jeffers’ house should have stood fifty feet way. He tried to lift his arms and stared at the bindings restraining him. He looked back to Maria and too many questions flooded him. He could not speak, but his pleading eyes carried the message.

Lemuel looked so frightened, so confused, that Maria slid the chair next to and took his  gently took his bandaged hand. “Please tell your name, sir, then we will talk.”

“Lemuel, Lemuel Hawkins.”

“I am Maria Valenzuela. You are in my family’s home. You were injured and we have been taking care of you.”

Memories began to form and arrange themselves in Lemuel’s’ brain. “Eugusto,” he whispered. “Where is he?”

Maria had hoped to delay telling Lemuel about Eugusto until she could understand why he had try to free, to steal, she didn’t even didn’t even know the correct word, to take the injured badger.

“Now that you are awake I would like to remove your bindings. We had to restrain you. You developed a high fever and began to thrash about and tear at your bandages. We were afraid you would injure yourself.” And some said you were a madman and would kill us all in our sleep, she thought. “You must promise to stay in your bed. You may sit up if you like. I will bring you extra pillows, but you are still too weak to get out of bed.” Lemuel nodded and Maria began to remove the restraints.

Lemuel drew his torso up as Maria placed the pillows behind his back. His muscles ached and burned. Maria lifted his knees and slid the rolled up linens under them for support. His legs fell back heavily. She returned to the table and poured glass of water from a carafe that sat on the small table. He reached for the glass, but his right hand was heavily bandaged and he was unable to move his left arm. He held his bandaged hand up to Maria and asked, “What happened to me?” 

“Here drink this water. I will hold it for you.” She carefully held the glass to his lips and he drank. 

“May I have another glass, please, Miss Valenzula,” Lemuel asked. “I am so dry.”

Maria smiled and answered, “After what we have been through, I believe you may call me Maria. May I call you Lemuel?”

Lemuel stammered and blushed, then he managed, “Uh, certainly you may, um, Maria.”

“Good. You better wait for a while before drinking more water, but don’t worry, now that you are awake Rosa will fatten you up.”

“Who is Rosa?,” asked Lemuel, a touch of panic in his voice. 

“One of the O’Brien family.  She has been your chief nurse.”

“I saw two children. I thought they where my brother and sister. Who are they?  Were they real?,” asked Lemuel the panic growing. He had lived alone for so long the domesticity of his new surroundings threatened to overwhelm him.

Maria laughed, “Too real at times. When you are better I will sit down with you and lay out the entire O’Brien family tree, but now we have other matters to discuss, do you not think so?”

“You’re right, of course,” said Lemuel, breathing deeply and sinking into his pillows.

“Do you remember the man that drew his pistol against you? The one you shot with the darts? You must tell me about the darts, but it can wait. Do you remember him?,” asked Maria.

“How do you know about all this? We you watching from a window?,” asked Lemuel, his brow furrowed. 

Maria was momentarily taken aback, then she realized that she had been in her field clothes that night. “I was the other man there, or I should say, I was the woman in a field jacket and pants.”

Lemuel looked stunned. “You? Then you are the one who captured Eugusto. And those horrible skeletons, those awful jars!” In his agitation, Lemuel struggled to get out the cot. Maria leapt up and gently pressed him back down. He was too weak to resist.

“You promised to stay in the cot, remember?,” she said, calmly but insistently. “You must not reopen you wounds.” 

Lemuel sagged back onto the cot exhausted by the short burst of activity. “You have to trust me, Lemuel. I am not the monster you think I am. I will answer all your questions about my study. I will even take you there when you are stronger. But now I want to tell you what happened the night you were hurt. Is that alright with you?” Lemuel was so tired he could only nod his agreement.

“The name of the man who pulled the pistol on you is Cupido. It is too long a story to explain why he was there. That is also a story for another time. It is enough to know that he is no friend of me or my family. 

When he started yelling at you, and you must tell me what that was all about, I tried to get him to put away his pistol. I had no idea why you there, but I was sure that you did not want to hurt anyone and I was afraid of what Eugusto would do if he was startled. Eugusto was in my care because he had been found near death by some friends of mine. He’d been badly injured and I was trying to save him.”

“The chain,” whispered Lemuel.

It took a moment, then Maria realized what Lemuel was asking. “I needed a way to keep him from wandering off. My cages were too small and he would bite through any rope I tied to him. If he were free he might attack the children and he surely would have tried to burrow under the fence. I’d about decided it was time to have Pau build him a shed, when all this happened.” Lemuel appeared to be listening, but didn’t respond.

Maria wondered if Lemuel was awake, but decided to continue, “Cupido has a terrible temper. Everyone is afraid of him because his family is wealthy. When he aimed his pistol at you, I knew I had to do something to stop him or he would kill you.”

“Two shots,” mumbled Lemuel, he eyes still closed.

“Yes, two shots. I was slow. The second one was mine. His ball passed through your right hand and hit your shoulder. You shoulder was terribly smashed. We removed the ball and bound up your shoulder and we hope you will regain use of the arm. Your hand will heal, but it will be weak for while.

As I feared, the gunshots frightened Eugusto and he shook off the effect of my medicinal draught. He clawed and bit you horribly. Pau heard the noise and came running. I’m afraid he shot and killed Eugusto. You must remember, Lemuel, Eugusto was a badger, not a spoltal, and an injured badger at that. You are lucky he didn’t slash your throat with his claws.”

“Badger, badger,” said Lemuel dreamily.

“Yes, a badger. I am certain. I know about these things.”

“Second shot,” Lemuel said weakly, pointing to his legs.

“No,” replied Maria firmly. “I’m afraid one of Pau’s pistol balls hit you. My ball was aimed at Cupido.”

“Hit him?,” mumbled Lemuel.

“Of course,” said Maria trying to hold down her indignation. “I wanted to stop him, not kill him, so I shot him in the foot. The O’Brien clan heard the shots, Pau was the first one there, and the yard was soon full of O’Brien’s. Rosa, Pau, and I brought you up here. Some of the men took Cupido home. They won’t admit it, but I think they were none to polite about it. I can understand how shooting someone in the foot can clip off their big toe, but I don’t understand how he broke three ribs and  his nose.”

“That’s good bastard” were Lemuel’s garbled final words before he started to snore.

Maria waited awhile until she sure taht he was asleep and then leaned him forward, removed the extra pillows, and gently lowered his head onto the pillow. She raised his dangling arm and folded his injured hand across his chest. The door opened and Rosa looked in. She was carrying a pitcher of warm water, a bowl, and a wash cloth and towel. “We talked a bit. He just now fell asleep,” whispered Maria, stepping aside as Rosa placed the bowl and pitcher on the small table. 

Rosa said softly, “You must go Miss. I will wash him now.”

Maria nodded and backed away toward the door. “His name is Lemuel Ennui,” she said softly.

“Thank You, Miss,” said Rosa, then she sat down on the stool dropping the towel and wash cloth into her lap. She looked at Lemuel and smiled. “Sleep a while. It will do you good, Lemuel Ennui, my silly fool. I will stay with you and keep you safe.”