“Cellar Friends”

They had to stay quiet, or they’d be caught.

Petrick held his breath as a group of older boys stomped into the room above them. The floorboards over their heads creaked as the confused pursuers moved about, searching. The sound made Petrick’s heart slam against his chest.

“Where are we?” Petrick’s hiding companion whispered.

His voice was small. Squeaky. Terrified.

It was dark where they were, Petrick and this small boy, hiding in an old cellar nobody ever used. It smelled of dust and old wood, a room with corners; in one of them, water was dripping lazily into a bucket. Above them, there were sounds of shuffling feet. Light poured through cracks in the wood slats.

As Petrick’s eyes adjusted, he made out his hiding companion’s round form. He was portly, with large nervous eyes, and messy brown hair. Everyone’s hair in Childer’s was messy, but his was messier. He must have been four. Maybe five. Petrick was six, which felt like a decade of difference.

“Just keep quiet,” Petrick found himself whispering back to the boy.

The old cellar was underneath the larder, in the back of the kitchen at Childer’s. He tapped his pocket, and sure enough, he felt a group of bulges and some warmth. As much as the boys were looking for them, they were really looking for what he held in his pocket.

“They might just go away if they can’t find us,” Petrick whispered again.

“We have to go back for my friend.”

The boy spoke of the girl he’d been with. Petrick had seen them at dinner, getting bullied just like he was, food taken when the adults weren’t watching. She was even smaller than her friend. He’d watched the two of them sneak into the back kitchen to search for scraps once everyone else had left…everyone else except for Litz and his boys. And Petrick, of course. He knew they were going to get pummeled with no one around to stop them, so he’d followed the gang of older boys.

He knew a shortcut back to the dishes area, where he was sure they’d be headed, looking for half-eaten meals. He also knew where Master Fulmire kept the leftovers. They didn’t.

It had only been the boy back by the dishes. The girl was nowhere to be seen. And, that’s when Litz had shown up and started chasing them. So, Petrick had taken the small boy by the hand, and run with him to the larder cellar. He’d shoved the kid down into the cellar, pulled up the square rug, and closed the wooden hatch moments before the bullies had shown up.

Petrick responded to the boy’s last demand by putting a finger over his lips. He shouldn’t have spoken. It made it seem like speaking down here was safe. It wasn’t.

The boys above them, and they were boys even if they were two years older and twice the size of the two hiding beneath them, had stopped scuffling about. It was quiet up there. They were listening.

In his other hand, Petrick slowly took out a small metal device shaped like a hand-length section of pipe, capped at both ends, with a button in the middle, and two antennae protruding from the top end cap. He clicked on the button, and the space between the two antennae crackled with a jagged blue light. He angled it away from his companion so he wouldn’t try to ask about it.

It worked. The younger boy finally caught on to Petrick’s lead, and he crouched in the small, dark space with his mouth shut. His white, round eyes stared up at the floor slats above them, striped with the light that poured through. Petrick noticed for the first time that one of them was purple around the socket. Bruised.

“Come out if you’re in here!” A voice snarled from one of the larger boys above them. His name was Litz. The thorn in Petrick’s side from the time he could talk. Big. Mean. Relentless.

He stomped a foot on the wooden floor, and it sent dust down through the cracks and onto Petrick and his friend. Well…”friend” was an overstatement. Petrick didn’t have any friends. He was too quiet, too weird.

Petrick heard the round boy inhale sharply. Petrick shot him a death stare and saw his face twisted in the unmistakable mask of a sneeze. The dust.

Petrick shook his head, desperately telling him that he couldn’t follow through with it. They’d be heard for sure. The hatch down to this cellar beneath the larder was hidden by a rug, but if they knew someone was under the floor, it was only a matter of time before they found it.

The boy, on the other hand, shook his head back, all the while taking in the short, staccato breaths that said: “this is happening.”

Petrick dove towards him, reaching out his hands. He clamped them down on the kid’s face just as the sneeze erupted from his nose and mouth. It came out with such force, Petrick was entirely unsure of how much noise had made it out. His fingers were covered with snot and saliva, but he dared not let go. He looked up above them instead.

The boys weren’t moving.

“C’mon, Litz,” another of the boys said, finally. “Let’s go. I bet they went out the back door.”

“No,” Litz’s voice came. He was directly above them. “I thought I heard something.”

Petrick held onto the kid’s mouth and then held his own breath.

Litz stood above them for an eternity, listening. Petrick could hear him breathing.

His head was starting to get light from lack of oxygen by the time another of Litz’s cronies finally spoke up.

“Larder’s locked, anyway,” he said. “Why would they come here?”

Litz didn’t seem inclined to move, but then came a crashing sound from back in the direction of the kitchen.

“Come on!” he shouted, and he took off with the rest of his goons in a scramble of feet.

The boy made a noise under Petrick’s fingers, presumably asking them to be removed, but Petrick shook his head, listening and unconvinced they were indeed in the clear. It took him several seconds to finally remove them.

“You tryin to suffocate me?” the small boy whisper-protested. At least he was keeping his voice down.

“Well, they didn’t hear us, did they?” Petrick shot back, not taking his eyes or ears off the floor slats above them.

It seemed quiet.

“I think they’re gone,” Petrick said, finally.

“Good,” the boy said. The relief in his voice was palpable. He touched his purpled and swollen. “Last time we snuck back to find some scraps, they gave me this.”

“Those guys are assweeds.”

The boy gasped and put his hand over his mouth. At first, Petrick thought the ‘assweeds’ were back, but then he realized:

“No adults around,” he said. “We can curse if we want.”

“But, Mother Indacar will hear.”

Petrick refrained from rolling his eyes. “What’s your name?” he asked instead.

“Barry,” the kid said, and took his hand off his mouth. He wiped it on his threadbare trousers, and offered it to Petrick.

Petrick wiped his own hand of snot and sweat and took it. “Nice to meet you.” They shook. “And who’s your friend?”

Barry’s eyes widened as if he’d forgot she was missing in the minute or so since he’d mentioned her last. “We need to find her.”

“Maybe she took off out the back door like Litz thought we did.”

“Nope,” Barry said with absolute conviction. “She’d never leave me like that.”

“Okay. Then, maybe she’s the one who made the noise.”

Their conversation was halted by the sound of creaking floorboard above them. The two froze.

Someone was back in the room above them.

Petrick clicked on his crackling metal tube once again. This time, Barry saw it.

“What—?” He started, but Petrick waved his question off with a pointed gesture.

The footsteps above them were heading straight towards the square carpet in front of the locked doors to the larder…beneath which was the wooden hatch leading down to the old cellar, their hiding place.

“Uh-oh…” Petrick breathed as he could hear the carpet being flung aside.

“Petrick…” Barry moaned.

The hatch lifted. Light poured down into the dark cellar.

Petrick took a brave step forward, thrusting his small electrical weapon out in front of him.

A face dipped into view.

A girl’s face.

“What are you doing down there with a stranger?!” her voice hissed toward Barry, who was cowering behind Petrick.

Barry straightened. “Suzy?” He cried. “Is that you?!”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed again. “I scrammed after knocking over the dishes pile in the washroom, so I don’t know if Litz is gone yet or not.”

So that’s what the sound was, Petrick thought, impressed. She’d purposefully drawn Litz and his bullies away from them. Barry shouldered his way past Petrick and scrambled up the cellar ladder as the one called Suzy ducked her head out of sight.

Petrick clicked off his device, but he didn’t put it away. Instead, he plopped it between his teeth and climbed out of the cellar after Barry. Up top, he found Suzy’s small, reluctant hand being offered to hoist him out the rest of the way.

He took it.

Her grip was surprisingly strong. Standing back up on the floor, in the small antechamber of the locked larder, he gave her a nod of thanks.

She was even smaller up close, and Petrick could see her eyes were sunken like his own. The tight skin hid a few freckles, and behind those, fierce blue eyes and sandy blonde hair cut into rough, jagged bangs.

“Petrick,” he said.

Suzy pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

“Suz,” Barry said, and bumped her to take Petrick’s hand. “He hid me from the bullies. He’s a good one.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, going so far as to cross her arms.

Petrick wanted to laugh. It was rather absurd, the attitude coming from these two. Neither of them could have been older than four. Petrick was barely five. But, here they were, shaking him down like he was a spy or a neer-do-well.

“I’ve seen you two,” he said, finally. “At meal time. Litz is stealing your food.”

“Litz steals everyone’s food,” Barry said, crossing his own arms to match Suzy’s. He put on a not-so-convincing scowl-face.

Petrick nodded. “But you two; he’s been tough on you lately, hasn’t he?”

“What’s it to you?” Suzy said, inclining her head.

Petrick slipped a hand in his pocket, and he pulled out the lumps inside, still warm, wrapped in a napkin. “Litz and his goons have been stealing from me every night, too, for the past month.” He unwrapped the napkin slowly, carefully. A puff of steam rose out and revealed three small corn cakes, still drizzled with honey.

Barry lunged for them.

“Barry!” Suzy said, with a slap.

“It’s okay,” said Petrick, offering them. “They’re for you.”

Barry didn’t wait for Suzy to give him permission. He grabbed the largest one of the three and began stuffing it into his face. The kid’s voraciousness betrayed his desperation.

The smell of the cakes even made Petrick’s own stomach churn and ache. It’d been weeks since he’d had a full meal, and he’d been sneaking food all along. These two must have had it even worse.

“I took them from the larder before dinner and stuffed them in my pockets.”

“You can get into the larder?” Suzy asked, eyeing the heavy wooden, locked doors over Petrick’s shoulder.

Petrick nodded and pointed to the wooden hatch. “I hide down in the cellar in the afternoon, then sneak in after Master Tills sets down the baked goods to chill before supper.”

“Bly buffo inner?” Barry asked, his cheeks puffed out with corn cake.

“Why before dinner?” Petrick repeated, translating. “Because I know everyone else Litz steals from tries to sneak in here afterward for scraps, and either gets shooed away by adults who think they’re just greedy, or caught by Litz and stolen from again.”

“Like us,” Suzy said.

“Like you.” Petrick affirmed.

She took a bite into the corn cake and closed her eyes. Shivers went up and down her body. Petrick wondered if she was going to start crying. She didn’t.

Petrick cleared his throat delicately. “When was the last time you guys had a proper meal?”

“Two weeks?” Barry answered. He was done with his corn cake already, and blissfully patting his stomach.

Petrick held out the third cake. Barry reached for it, then stopped and regarded him. “Wait,” he said, “you haven’t eaten.”

Petrick ignored the aching in his own stomach and pushed it towards him. “Take half, and give the other half to her. I’ve been eating lately, sneaking in like I said.”

Barry didn’t need any further prodding. He grabbed the cake and broke it in half with his stubby fingers. Steam wisped out, sprinkling the air with the sweet smell of corn and honey.

“How do you keep these warm?” Barry asked right before he stuffed his half into his mouth. “Biff you betten dem befo minner.”

Petrick caught just enough of ‘before dinner’ from the second sentence, and in answer, he pulled out the metal device from his pocket. “I built a warmer,” he said, and he pressed the button in the middle of the pipe. The end with the antennae crackled with electricity. He then pulled out another metal piece, a screw cap. He covered the antennae with it and tightened it down. The next time he pressed the button, the whole device began to give off heat. “I just press it for a few seconds every few minutes, and it keeps whatever I stowed away nice and warm.”

“That’s electricity…” Suzy said, finishing her first cake and looking at the device. It was hard to tell if her gaze was filled with trepidation or interest. “Isn’t it?”

Petrick nodded.

“But that’s not allowed,” Barry said, his eyes getting wide.

Petrick nodded again. “That’s why I don’t show anybody.”

“You’re showing us,” Suzy observed.

Petrick allowed himself a small smile. “Yeah…but, you guys aren’t going to tell on me, are you?”

There was a pause. Barry and Suzy looked at each other, then back at Petrick.

“Crunch, no,” Barry spoke for the both of them.

“Tell on you squirts about what?” a voice came from behind them.

The trio whirled.

Litz was standing in the entryway to the larder, his two other goons behind him. He was wearing a cruel smile, and his fists were balled at his side.

He took a heavy step forward. “I knew you were back here somewhere,” he said. He pointed to the empty napkin in Petrick’s hand, and the crumbs still left there. “You’re stealing from the larder, aren’t you?”

“And you’re stealing from us,” Suzy snarled at him. “So cut the muck and leave us alone.”

She was tense, quivering with anger, and utterly unafraid. Petrick had never had such gumption thrown at the face of the bully. Ever.

Litz snarled back. “Just you try and stop me,” he said.

Suzy surged forward in a flash of blonde hair and freckles.

“No!” Barry yelled at her, but it was too late.

She tangled with Litz, landing a punch on the older boy’s chin, but that was all she could connect. He grabbed her by her hair and pushed her out an arm’s length. Because his limbs were longer than hers, she could only swing wildly into the air. She couldn’t touch him.

Litz laughed at her futility. It was the sound of nails on a chalkboard. It made Petrick’s teeth hurt. “You three are gonna pay for that,” he said. “I was gonna start letting you eat tomorrow.” Petrick knew that was a lie. It was always ‘next week’ with Litz. “But now…now you’re gonna bruise, and you’re gonna give your food to me for the next month.”

He threw a vicious punch into Suzy’s stomach. It would have knocked her to the floor, had the larger bully not kept his vice grip on her hair.

Instead of gasping, or whimpering, Suzy locked eyes with Petrick. She was still, somehow, utterly devoid of panic or fear, and she stared at him as if she were trying to transfer that impossible confidence to him. Or…no…her eyes were darting down to something else, back to Petrick, then back to the something else. She was trying to tell him something.

Petrick looked down to see what it was she was looking at.

It was the warmer. He was still holding it.

Petrick looked back up at Suzy, and she immediately, silently confirmed that yes, that’s what she wanted Petrick to pay attention to…or…or was it use?

Petrick unscrewed the top of the warmer with a flick. The antennae were once again exposed.

Suzy gave him a look like ‘go, already!’

Petrick sauntered up to Litz, trying to act casual. Inside, he felt anything but.

“Hey Litz,” he said to the bully. “Why don’t you let my friend go?”

Litz sneered. He was totally unafraid of Petrick’s approach. So much the better. “You don’t have any friends,” he said. “You’re too weird.”

Rather than respond, and with his last step up to the bully, Petrick let the warmer do the talking. There was a sharp sound of arcing electricity as Petrick pressed the power button, and he shoved it into Litz’s side as hard as he could.

Litz bellowed in pain, and his body convulsed from the electric shock.

Suzy twisted out of his grip on her hair, and let her momentum carry her around to clock the boy in his left eye.

It knocked him to his feet.

Petrick lunged, again pressed the button on the warmer—or maybe he’d have to call it a ‘shocker’ now—and stabbed him with it once more, this time right on his neck.

Litz’s two goons shrieked at the sight of the angry blue electricity.

They dove for their leader, and hauled him backward, out of the entry, and into the hallway.

“Witchcraft!” one of them screamed.

Litz, for his part, was too disoriented to stop them or mount a counterattack on Petrick and Suzy. His friends hauled him woozily to his feet, and then turned tail and ran out of sight with him as fast as they could go.

“And stay away!” Barry yelled after them, suddenly at Petrick and Suzy’s side. He then put his head back to the ceiling and let out a whoop! “That was amazing!” He said, and he clapped Petrick on his back. “You were amazing. We actually made Litz run away. I can’t believe it!”

Petrick attempted to shrug off the praise, but he reddened anyway. “It was Suzy’s idea,” he said with a nod in her direction.

“I wanted you to throw it at him!” Suzy said with a grin and a big shrug. “I had no idea it could do that.”

Petrick laughed. So did Barry. Something was filling Petrick up, fuller than food could ever have made him. It was dizzying, and it made the stomach pangs seem far, far away.

Suzy stuck out her hand to Petrick, and he remembered she hadn’t yet taken it. She wanted to now.

He took it, small and strong.

“I told you he was a good one,” Barry said, beaming.

“You want to be friends?” Suzy asked. “I think together, we can do anything.”