"We found the stairs in 1985 because of a note in Iona's dad's diary. Your grandfather John had made the stairs and set up rooms in the caves in 1945 when he got back from Japan. He wanted shelters in case of a nuclear war. In the fifties, people were building bomb shelters in some parts of the country, but John had his own caves. Iona was born in 1939, so she did not know about the cave rooms until we found the diary after Grandpa John died in 1974, and, as you know, Grandma had died long before that of cancer, after your dad was born. Well, Iona and I decided to go down into the caves and check out the rooms."
Uncle Jay ate another ham sandwich. His whole wheat bread, made from his own wheat, graced the table.
"We both were shocked at what we found-a complete underground house, with furniture, clothing, gas lights, and provisions to last ten years or more. Everything needed for survival filled the many shelves of the pantries. Ten people would easily live in the cave rooms comfortably. But, the most astounding thing of all was an underground fresh water stream. It was like God had put together a place for emergencies."
Christine poured water for both of them. Uncle Jay had many streams on his thousand acres, and the water was good and clear.
"Then, Iona got this idea. She was convinced that hard times were coming for the Church, so she asked me if we could add a little chapel in the cave rooms, where the air was fresh. At that time, she was really ill and failing, so I wanted her to have everything she asked for..and she only wanted the chapel. So, I built an altar, and carved a small wooden reredos in a wine and wheat pattern, collected vestments when the small churches closed like dominoes in this diocese, and even got altar ware. Then, we asked old Father Simon from St. Joseph to come up and bless our little chapel. There was no bishop then, as one had died and we were waiting for the other new one."
"So, there is a bona fide chapel under the ground, in the cave house."
Christine looked at Uncle Jay. She knew he was pious, but this story showed him to be more than pious. He was prophetic. Or, at least Aunt Iona had been.
"No one knows of this except James and the men, who are all Catholic now, after Sam finally converted. We had Mass down there once on the twentieth anniversary of Iona's death-a real "black Mass".
Uncle Jay stopped talking. Christine felt as if they had traveled back in time to the days of persecution in Europe, when her German ancestors in Bavaria fought for the one, true Church, and when her English ancestors had either perished or maintained safe houses in East Anglia.
She looked down at the red and white aging yellow pvc tablecloth. Uncle Jay seemed like a prophet from older times, and the air in the room seemed like it whispered of ancient days when Catholics gathered around houses safe for Mass.
A barn owl hooted in the distance as darkness covered the land. Christine loved the night, and she had planned on taking out her large telescope, to set it up on the permanent base Uncle Jay had made for her years ago. But, indeed, a storm was moving in fast.
Large raindrops hit the windows and Christine got up to close them clumsily with her bandage hand and wrist. "Let me do that," said Uncle Jay quietly. Sam came up to the back porch.
"Jay, I am moving Scullery Maid into the barn. This is going to be a whopper."
Jay nodded. "And, what about the milk-cow?"
Sam answered while practically running away, "Sarah's in the barn already."
Sarah was the only cow on the farm. Years ago, Jay had been talked into a herd of Black Angus, but he did not like tending to them, so he just rented out space to the neighbor down the road, to the agent Carl Link, whose cows ate Jay's field grass.
It would be Carl's duty to bring in the cattle, but rarely in storms did he do so. He mostly let them stay out and find trees for shelter. Jay did not like this arrangement, as he felt for the cattle, but these beasts would be sold within the next two weeks anyway. Not his business to keep them dry.
Lightning lit up the western sky, as Jay finished closing the windows. He could just make out Sam leading the horse into the barn out back. The other men had come in and were moving into the part of the house which was built like a large dorm. All the men stayed on the farm all year round, which was unusual these days, as most workers liked to live with their own families in _____City, but Jay's men were too old to change.
Besides, they were all related and good buddies. Christine's room was not in the farmhouse, but in a little cottage Jay had built for Iona in the year she was dying so that she did not have to walk up the steps to the main bedroom. Aunt Iona had died in the room Christine used, but the young woman did not mind. Iona had been a living saint, as everyone had said at her funeral, the biggest ever in _____City. Christine loved the little cottage and had decorated it to suit her tastes. Uncle Jay basically gave it to her for privacy.
"Maybe you should stay in the Big House until we know is the storm is going to be really bad. As you know, the cottage has no basement." Uncle Jay was thinking of the microburst, or the opposite, a tornado.
"Uncle Jay, you know I have stayed in the cottage in storms before tonight. Please do not worry."
"Well, take the portable weather radio and if there is a warning, you get back here pronto."
Christine smiled. She had lived through five tornadoes and understood the routine. All the men now crowded into the kitchen with their "inside shoes" on and were taking drinks out of the fridge.
"We can talk more tomorrow, Christine. The men and I have to discuss farm stuff."
That was the signal to leave. Christine left her inside slippers on the rack and put her heavy shoes back on. Just then, Addie, the farm dog, a large Sheltie, ran up into the mud-room. It licked at Christine's unbandaged hand as she tied her shoes. "Addie is back, Uncle Jay."
Jay shouted back, "Good thing, He has been gone all day. Take him with you."
"Come on, Addie, come with me," said Christine softly, as she loved this dog.
And the dog followed her to the cottage, as the rain pelted down on the farm.
To be continued....
