Welcome to Hell: Rediscovering First Love

“Keegan wasn’t like this. It’s a he.”

“Hmmmm,” Kerry responded at my logic.

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We were moved and settled into Yancy’s house in Hell by Monday morning. Keegan had read James’ letter. She wrote on the back and left it and the gift. Thank you but no thank you. My dad will pay my tuition. You tried buying me once you can’t fool me again.

Wow! In capital letters.

The horses were tucked away in a local barn where Keegan could still ride them both. As I was not currently able to ride Wynne was learning to ride on Spider which was a help. The cousins enjoyed each other’s company. I had made several trips to the barn to brush Spider and talk to him but I couldn’t ride him. It was unsafe being pregnant.

My clothes, Adin’s paintings, Keegan’s baby things and other mementoes were all that I took from the house in Eden. They were in Yancy’s garage. Walking from room to room in the farmhouse I had not felt any attachment to anything. It was as if it didn’t actually belong to me. James had handpicked the furniture, fixtures, tablecloths, bedding, and curtains with the help of a decorator. I felt no connection to the things in the house where I had lived for six years. Nothing seemed to matter as I inventoried my belongings.

The day we pulled out of the driveway Littie sobbed in Virgil’s arms, which brought tears to my own eyes. She had been my only means of emotional support since moving to Eden. We would miss each other but my mother needed me. We promised to Skype which had been funny to me as I couldn’t imagine Littie Skyping. Littie and Virgil promised to visit us in Hell after the baby came.

As we settled in Hell, everyone kept telling me that I was where I belonged. Littie and Virgil when they called weekly to see how we were doing, my sisters even Kerry and Keegan kept telling me not to worry but I felt at odd with myself. I had strange emotions being there. It was almost as if I was a stranger in a town that I had lived in nearly my entire life. I was back in Hell. I knew this town, the history, and the people who lived here but yet it was

like I didn’t belong. I was unsettled and I couldn’t shake the damned feelings weighing me down.

My sisters visited every night and my niece every day after school. I still hadn’t seen Jack or Byron and didn’t really care. The rest of the visits from friends and neighbors or family seemed a bit overwhelming. Issy had even stopped by to see me several times and Harriet Mills came once a week to see Yancy.

Then to add to my state of unrest Yancy had developed a testy attitude with me. I waited on her, bringing her breakfast, lunch and dinner to her bedside. I read books to her. I watched the circuit of talk shows with her one after another no matter how boring they were. I even swallowed my pride and watched The Jerry Springer Show because she said it made her laugh. Nothing I did for her seemed to be enough. She was even harder on my father who said nothing at all. We couldn’t make her happy which reminded me of days living with her as a teenager. Maybe we just rubbed each other the wrong way.

One afternoon following the Fourth of July holiday, which had turned into a picnic in Yancy’s backyard I was half sitting half lying on the bed next to my mother watching Montel. Her eyes were barely open occasionally she smiled at something the guest said.

“Are you comfortable?” I asked watching her readjust her position for the tenth time.

“Fine,” she snapped.

“What’s wrong Yancy?” I asked with exasperation that I could no longer hide.

“I’m trying to watch my show.” Her voice raised several octaves.

I sighed deep in my chest. “Fine.”

“Stop doing that,” she hollered.

“Stop doing what?”

I shifted thinking that I was causing her a problem with some movement that I was unconsciously doing.

“Stop annoying me,” she said with barely contained anger. “Get my painkillers,” she demanded.

“You have an hour until I can give you another one,” I told her mustering my patience.

“God Dammit, I said get me another painkiller,” she shouted.

Rising from the bed I glared at her and wanted to shout back at her but knew she wasn’t herself and that I couldn’t raise my voice to my mother when she was so ill so I told her I would be back with her medicine.

In the kitchen I called Doctor Winkle’s office and got his nurse on the phone. She advised me that I could give Yancy the painkiller even though she had another hour before she was due. Retrieving a glass from the cabinet overhead I filled it with water from the water filter attached to the kitchen sink. If I got the water from anywhere else she knew. Then, she would scream at me that I was trying to poison her with Hell’s unfiltered water. Walking through the swinging door I turned immediately and went back to the kitchen as I had forgotten the actual medicine itself.

I was tired. She was demanding and difficult to care for and the baby was sapping the rest of my strength. No one seemed to notice how tired I was. Kerry was out of town; in Dallas this time I thought pouring out a tablet of medicine into the palm of my hand.

“Gabrielle? Gabrielle, where the hell are you?” Yancy shouted. “I need the damned medicine.”

She definitely wasn’t herself. Yancy wouldn’t have cussed for fear of burning in Hell and I don’t mean the town she lived in. Her language had grown colorful with her illness. Doctor Winkle who periodically checked on her thought it was the combination of intense pain and the medicine, which made her act and react so differently than was normal for her. I noticed that she only seemed to react this way with me or Pop. Or was it my imagination?

Back in her room, decorated in cool blue hues that should have made her calm and relaxed under other circumstances I handed Yancy the medicine. She popped it into her mouth. Then I leaned over the bed and helped her lift her head to sip from the cup. She was weak. I was trying to hold the cup with my hand certain she couldn’t hold it by herself. She kept trying to push my hand away. She didn’t have the cup held firmly in her hand but that didn’t seem to matter to her, as she just wanted me to release it. Finally, she slapped at my hand and I withdrew it so that the water splashed against her face as she tried to hang onto it.