I assumed that she was referring to his drinking problem but still couldn’t see where any of this fit into my family, the feud or my questions. I crossed my legs Indian-style and flipped through several more pages, finding nothing of any real interest, until the middle of July.
July 12th, 1980
I have been a prisoner to my illness for many days in a row now and Jack said that it was a blessing in disguise. Something is terribly wrong, I can feel it. I’ve never seen Jack fret the way he has today. I see worry in the lines of his face and fear in his eyes. Please help him in his troubles for I am of little use anymore.
I felt a shiver run up my back. I didn’t know what the last entry was supposed to mean, but I sensed she was troubled at the time she wrote it. A part of me wanted to turn to the next page and then to the next in a race to the truth, but another part of me hesitated. After reading her secrets, there would be no turning back. They would live inside of me forever.
I thought for a long time and decided that I had already come too far. For me, there was no turning back. I found myself lost in Gayle’s world, and read through several more pages.
August 3rd, 1980
I write today with a burdened heart. I have just returned from Jack’s study where I overheard him on the phone. There has been an accident involving Wesley and it appears he has been arrested. I wish I knew more. Dear Father, I have prayed and prayed and to be honest, I don’t believe there is a prayer left in me for my troubled son. Why have you disregarded my prayers? What happened to my little boy? I do not know the man Jack now speaks of. Once my son, he now lives in the shadow of Satan and for that I am sorry. Please forgive me.
The breeze picked up and an eerie chill ran through me as I remembered the accident vividly. I found it almost ghostly, reading an outsiders account of what I had lived through so many years ago. Suddenly, I found myself eager to read on, eager to know the secrets buried between two families. Pushing my hair back, I continued.
September 5th, 1980
Dear Father in Heaven please hear my prayers. I have learned that in a senseless accident, Wesley has killed a man and his wife. To add offense to suffering, the life he took was that of Stewart’s only son. Why have you forsaken us? Stewart is a good man, why do you make him suffer yet another heartbreak? Give me the strength to understand and the power to heal, I beg of you.
I continued through several more pages without hesitation.
October 13th, 1980
My good days aren’t nearly as good as they once were but I thank you for the ones I do have. I heard your voice and have obeyed your wishes. I have sent my only son to your open arms, but with sadness in my heart. I look forward to seeing him again and pray that he can one day forgive me. I wish he had said something before I sent him, for his silence is something that will ring in my ears forever. Now, I will face my worldly punishment while I eagerly await your heavenly embrace.
I covered my mouth as one whimper escaped. Just as Con and Sally had said, Gayle killed her own son. But why? Because he had killed Donny or maybe because she thought she had heard the voice of God? What was wrong with her that she had so few ‘good days’? And where did all of this fit into the ongoing feud and my grandfather going to prison?
I closed the journal, stared past the serenity around me and lost myself, somewhere between the present and all those years ago.
I had no idea how much time had passed but there was no longer enough light to read by. I glanced down at the journal that lay in my lap, feeling sorrow as my thoughts returned to the present.
How terrible that must have been for everyone involved. Wesley Ellis’ death had been a thirty-year old secret only known by a handful of people and paid for by my grandfather. I still didn’t see a rational explanation for his involvement. He may have taken their brief relationship more seriously than Gayle did, but so much to give up over twenty years of his life? And poor Gram, to know that your husband loved another woman so deeply that he would be willing to pay such a high price for her crime. No wonder she drinks more than she should, she’s lived with her own heartache all of these years.
Joker had given me part of what I asked for, but there had to be more to the story and I was hoping to find the answers in the remainder of Gayle’s journal.
~ ~ ~
My apartment was in total darkness when I returned except for the blinking, red light on the answering machine. Hitting a button on the machine, I let it play while I put away groceries I bought on the way home from Willoughby.
...Hello, Meg, it’s Ron Anderson at the bank. I wanted to let you know that everything is in place and we can set up a closing anytime now. If you want to get back to me with your schedule, my number is 555-1336. Talk to you soon... ‘Beep’