The Man In The Cellar

He had heard not only a voice but also he had heard Mona answer that voice in a language he didn’t understand.

But how did she understand that language? She still pronounced ‘soup’ as ‘thoup’.

Jack slowly backed away from the cellar door as he eased it shut, still listening intently for any foreign noises.

Still, quiet, nothing stirred.

Jack moved back to the couch where Mona sat. She had become engrossed in an episode of the Teletubbies and had lost interest in Jack’s doings. He sat down beside her and slid the ashtray back to its place on the coffee table.

"Mona, he began, who were you talking to thru the doggie door?"

"Luke." She said again absently.

"Who’s Luke, Mona?" he asked again.

She starred at the television screen, not responding.

"Mona answer me, who is Luke?" his voice had risen ever so slightly.

Still she said nothing.

"What did Luke say to you, pumpkin?"

She turned and looked up at him with eyes almost too blue to be natural.

"He wants me to come to the cellar tonight. But I don’t want to daddy, Luke’s mean sometimes."

Jack felt the electrical charge of fear pulse over his body and for a moment he thought he’d be sick.

"There’s no Luke in the cellar Mona, you know that don’t you?" Was he trying to convince her or himself he wondered?

Again she looked up at him, her eyes shining with intensity. But now there was something more. He saw fear in her eyes, raw and pure fear.

"Yes there is, daddy."

She turned back to the television and spoke no more.

*

Luke’s mean sometimes

Repeating over and over in Jack’s jumbled mind as he lay uncomfortably in his bed. The only lights in the sizable room were the red beacons of the alarm clock, which he had been vacantly starring at.

2:48 a.m.

Luke’s mean sometimes

How long had she been talking to this Luke?

How had she even been able to talk to him?

And even better then that, just who the hell was Luke in the first place?

Luke’s mean sometimes

Had he done anything to her?

Surely not, or she wouldn’t have been…

"This is ridiculous." He said to the darkness.

Beside him Lee grumbled slightly and shifted onto her side.

There was no Luke and there was no mean man in the cellar. It had just been Mona reciting something she had seen on TV, or something she had heard Lee say. A game, that’s all.

Then why don’t you go and see? His inner voice asked.

As if cued by that very thought Jack heard a small yet definite thump.

From downstairs.

Jack sat up in his bed; sudden beads of sweat dotted his brow. His eyes darted back to the clock.

3:00 a.m.

The numbers starred out at him through the darkness like red viper’s eyes.

Then they blinked off.

Simultaneously from the vents in the hardwood floor he heard the central air unit stop. The electricity had gone out.

The thump must’ve been the breaker being thrown; he rationalized. Of course, a thrown breaker. And the breaker was in…

The cellar.

Then you should get on down there and fix it, shouldn’t you? Nothing to stop you, right? His inner voice again interjected.

Slowly he pushed the blankets away from him and pivoted his legs from the bed to the floor. The silence of the house was enormous yet strangely oppressive, almost as if it were too silent. Before he stood he reached over to the nightstand by his side of the bed. He fumbled momentarily for the reading lamp he seldom used, found it and twisted the power knob, secretly praying that it would work.

Nothing.

Cursing silently to himself he rose lightly from the bed being careful not to wake Lee. As he pulled on his t-shirt that he discarded on the floor before laying down hours ago he suddenly realized how cold the floor was, like stepping on wooden ice.