Lincoln in the Basement Chapter Seventy-Nine

Previously: War Secretary Stanton holds the Lincolns and janitor Gabby Zook captive under guard in the White House basement. Private Adam Christy takes guard duties. Mary Lincoln talks Gabby into attacking Adam. Lincoln intervenes. Ashamed and distraught, Adam gets drunk.
Entering the basement hallway, Adam had another thought. If nothing made a difference, then why the hell not go ahead and be bad? Adam thrust his head forward, pursed his lips, went to Phebe’s room, grabbed the knob and entered. As the door swung open, Adam saw, in the light of hallway whale oil lamp, Phebe lying in bed. Her smooth black skin, lithe figure, full lips, and large eyes—now wide open, startled by the sudden shaft of light—drew him into the dark room. Instinctively, he unbuttoned his shirt.
“What? What is it?” Phebe mumbled, putting up her hand to shield her eyes from the light.
“It’s me.”
“Oh.” She sat up. “What was that noise? It sounded like yelling and banging about.”
“It was nothing.”
“Anything you say.” She yawned and fell back. “Just let me sleep.”
“You still smell of soap.” Adam shut the door. Walking toward the bed, he paused at its edge, breathing deeply. “So clean.”
“You’re scaring me.” Phebe sat up and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Please leave.”
“You don’t want me to leave. I know. Your eyes tell me you’re happy when I walk in. You always have something to say.” He sat at the bottom of the bed. “You want me as much as I want you.”
“You’re drunk.”
Adam leaned forward to grab Phebe, but she rolled out of the bed onto the floor. Grappling with the sheets, he found them empty.
“Dammit! Come back here!”
Adam scrambled from the bed, and by the time he was on his feet, Phebe opened the door, allowing him to see exactly where she was. Lunging, he caught her by the crook of her elbow and swung her around.
“Help!” she yelled. “For God’s sake, somebody, help!”
“Shut up!” Throwing her back on the cot, Adam put his hand over her mouth as he planted his sweaty body over her.
“Help! Help me!” Phebe bit his hand, causing him to pull it back in pain.
“What the hell is going on?” Neal stood in the doorway wearing his nightshirt.
“Neal!” Phebe frantically pulled her head away from Adam, her eyes searching for him. “Please stop him!”
“You sumbitch!” Neal raced to the bed and grabbed Adam’s feet to drag him off onto the floor.
Adam’s face bashed into the hard surface. The acrid taste of blood seeped onto his tongue, which only infuriated him. He jumped up, grabbed Neal by the armpits and threw him out the door, just as Lincoln had manhandled him earlier. Turning his back to Neal so he could focus on Phebe, cowering on the bed, Adam walked toward her.
“Damn you!” Neal screamed as he jumped on Adam’s back.
Instinctively, Adam did as he had done earlier when Gabby had attacked him; he fell backward with a great moan, trapping Neal under him. His head turned toward the door when he heard pounding from the billiards room.
“Stop that!” Gabby yelled. “Stop that hollering! And stop hurting people!”
Adam rolled over and pinned Neal’s shoulders with his knees. He struck Neal with his fists. His eyes were wide and glassy from the alcohol and his anger.
“Stop hurting people!”
Adam felt a sheet fall across his face and settle around his neck. He turned to see Phebe twisting the sheet with all her strength.
“Let Neal go, or by God, I’ll kill you!” she screamed.
“Stop hurting people!” Gabby repeated from the billiards room.
Adam jerked the sheet from her hands and knocked Phebe away. He tied a knot in the middle of the sheet, wrapped it around Neal’s neck, and pulled hard.
“Stop hurting people!”
Adam strained his muscles, pulling the sheet tighter into Neal’s neck. Neal’s veins were bulging, his eyes popping out of his head.
“You’ll never talk back to me again!”
“No, no,” Phebe whimpered from the floor.
“Stop hurting people!”
Neal’s tongue lolled out and spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth. Finally, Adam felt the body go limp.
Phebe crawled over to look at Neal’s blank eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Oh my God! He’s dead! You killed him!”
“Shh.” Adam turned to put his hand over her mouth. His knuckles were bloody, and he wiped them on his tunic. He glanced at Phebe who shivered and cried. “Don’t worry.”
“Murderer,” she said softly.
“Shh.” He looked down and grabbed the sheet.
“Oh my God! No!”
“Shh. I’m going to stick this in your mouth to keep you quiet.”
“Murderer…”
The knot went into her mouth. Adam took the lower bedsheet, tore it and tied her hands together. Slowly, methodically, he tore another strip from the sheet to tie her feet.
“Stop hurting people!”

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