Darkness Coudn't Hold Her

By Katie Hubbard

A series of cataclysmic events rocked young Bethany's world, sending her onto the dangerous streets late one night in search of an escape from her turbulent home life. Her plan was to be gone just long enough to worry and punish her mother for her hateful, heartless words and her failure to protect her from her seedy boyfriend.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483586168

Book preview

32

A fiery column of flames rushed down the main hallway like a freight train. The blaze raced across the paper-thin walls of the old home consuming fragile, antique wooden furniture and thick velvet draperies like kindling.

Bethany! BETHANY! The eighty-six-year-old woman screamed while clinging to her wheelchair.

Her great grandmother’s words were barely audible to Bethany from her makeshift bedroom in the home’s front parlor. Bethany bolted from her bed and called her mother, but it was useless. She had already left for work in the predawn hours.

Bethany threw a blanket over her and yelled down the hall, I’m coming, Nana!

Smoke rolled in billows throughout the home. Bethany tried the main hall toward the kitchen located in the back of the house, but the flames and heat drove her back. She tried an alternate route through the butler’s pantry battling heavy smoke and darkness the entire way.

Nana! Talk to me so I can find you. I can’t see, Bethany gasped.

I’m over here with Pap, she sputtered. He’s not well. It was a grease fire. We were just cooking breakfast…

Her words trailed off.

I see you! Bethany shouted.

Her great grandfather was slumped over in his wheelchair. Her great grandmother had rolled her wheelchair beside him. Her hand was on his head stroking his wavy, silver hair.

Hold on, I’m trying to get to you!

Between the butler’s pantry and the kitchen, Nana had proudly hung her handmade forest green velvet drapes and tied them back with heavy gold cords.

When Bethany and her mother first moved in, she asked why she had hung curtains in the opening. Nana explained that it wasn’t suitable for guests to look into the kitchen. Nana prided herself on being a proper woman, accustomed to standards of etiquette that would challenge aristocracy. Bethany still didn’t understand, but she knew they were special, and Nana gave her the privilege of closing them before the members of the nearby Baptist church arrived for their weekly Sunday afternoon visitations.

The aggressive flames quickly jumped the hallway devouring the drapes at lightning speed. A curtain of fire stood between Bethany and her great-grandparents. Bethany’s breathing slowed as the hot, smoky air singed her nasal passages and airways. The carbon monoxide, arsenic, and lead paint began forming a toxic cocktail that hung in the air like a thick fog. Bethany fought to remain conscious. Nana struggled to speak.

Get out, Bethany! Leave us!

No! Never! I won’t leave you!

I can’t leave Pap, Bethany. He’s everything to me.

Nana reached for her husband’s hand and clasped it tightly.

"No! Nooo!" Bethany cried.

Suddenly, one of the trusses on the back half of the roof gave way, dropping flaming beams and debris between her and her grandparents. She could no longer see them in the hellish inferno…and Nana no longer answered her cries.

Bethany sat motionless, paralyzed by shock and grief. For a moment, she wanted to die along with them. In the surreal scene, she heard a small voice in her heart say, You are loved.

She gathered up all her strength, turned and crawled back toward the front parlor. The visibility was zero as she groped along the walls relying on her familiarity of the rooms to guide her. Within moments, she passed out and lay helpless on the floor.

Fire trucks arrived on the scene. The visible flames from the outside sent the firemen into an aggressive attack strategy to determine if they could safely execute a search and rescue. A team of firefighters pumped gallons of water onto the roof attempting to inhibit the oxygen’s ability to feed the fire’s voracious appetite. Other firemen broke out windows with axes to vent off the hot smoke.

Terry Ray, a fifteen-year veteran, rushed toward the front door and proceeded to break it down with his axe.

Terry! Stop! the fire chief ordered. It’s too dangerous to go in there. Look at the house. It’s bowing! It’s gonna’ collapse!

Terry remained undeterred as he defied orders and rushed into the open door. Outside, Bethany’s mother arrived at the scene in hysterics.

My daughter and 86 year old grandparents are in there! They are in wheelchairs! Please, please get them out!

Ma’am, we’re doing everything we can do right now. You must step back and let us do our job, the Chief instructed.

The fire’s heat was more intense than Terry calculated. It felt as though his mask was beginning to melt. He searched frantically in the first room, shining his light into every corner. As he crossed the hallway to the parlor, he raked his elbow against an antique oak tree, sending his flashlight rolling down the hall then disappearing in the smoke. Terry searched relentlessly despite zero visibility.

A firefighter broke out the front and side windows of the parlor allowing a few rays of sunlight to seep in. His foot bumped up against something on the floor. Smoke was banked down to knee level, so it was hard to see what it was. He reached down to feel it and touched Bethany’s limp body. Quickly, he scooped her up and dashed for the door using his body as a human shield against the deadly flames. As he stepped onto the front porch, the Fire Chief yelled,

Run!

Terry cradled Bethany’s body, jumping off the porch and running toward the street as the house collapsed in an angry, burning heap, sending fiery debris hurling into the air as everyone dove for cover.

Terry dropped to the ground and covered Bethany with his body until the fiery blast subsided and the red-hot fragments stopped raining down. Bethany’s mom, Laura Weatherby, rushed toward the fireman.

Is she ok? Is she alive?

Terry didn’t answer. He quickly peeled himself off her and began to perform CPR on her fragile, and seemingly lifeless body. He wouldn’t stop until the EMT’s arrived.

When the paramedics came, they laid Bethany on a stretcher and hoisted her into the back of the ambulance. Firefighter Terry Ray helped Bethany’s mother inside the ambulance before it sped away. As he watched them drive in the distance, he fell to his knees sobbing unashamedly and said a prayer for the unknown child.

Inside the ambulance, paramedics strapped an MTR Standard Non-Rebreather Mask to Bethany and began the high flow of oxygen to her damaged airways and lungs. Frantically, the EMTs worked to establish vital signs, but Bethany remained pulseless. One of the paramedics quickly inserted an IV with an antidote for HCN poisoning.

Come on, little girl. Come on… the paramedic whispered under his breath.

What’s wrong? Is she dying? Tell me! Laura shrieked.

The paramedic held up his hand to quiet her. She dropped her head to her chest and sobbed; her entire body was trembling. The senior EMT continued protocol in an attempt to reinstate Bethany’s pulse. The other paramedic called the hospital. In route…Mercy Children’s Hospital… He turned away from Bethany’s mother and lowered his voice. Code Red…Romeo…Uniform…Trauma 99…10-4.

Little did the EMT know that Bethany’s grandfather had retired as a local fireman and Bethany’s mom understood the county’s EMT code. She processed the gravity of his words: Code Red: Life Threatening; Romeo: Under Resuscitation, Uniform: Unconscious, Trauma 99: a death caused by trauma that may or may not be workable depending on the injuries. Just as her emotions were rising to an unmanageable pitch, Bethany choked and sputtered. Then she vomited sooty, black mucous.

Bethany! Bethany! Talk to me!

Ma’am, sit down and be quiet! You are compromising your daughter’s care!

The paramedics stared at one another astounded at what they had witnessed. There was no tangible or viable explanation for why the little girl suddenly began breathing on her own. Once they made it to the hospital, they began to slowly pump heavy doses of steroids, antibiotics and bronchodilators into Bethany to restore her health.

Bethany was often alone in the hospital since the accident. Her mother worked a full shift during the day and had picked up a part-time job as a waitress in the evenings. Bethany really wanted to understand her mother’s frequent absenteeism. However, she was also growing accustomed to her mother’s emotional absence since the divorce. That made the loss of her great grandparents even more monumental. They made her feel cherished, and they filled in her emotional gaps where her mom left off.

Bethany missed them immensely. Disturbing memories and nightmares of the horrific scene sickened her physically on a regular basis. Bethany felt weak and struggled with feelings of guilt and failure at her inability to save them. Her silent emotional struggles only served to magnify the loneliness. So she quickly made friends with the staff, housekeeping and other patients. Keeping her in the hospital bed had become quite a challenge. Finally, with slight reluctance, her doctors agreed to discharge her with strict orders about limited activities.

Where will we live now, mom?

The firefighter who rescued you has offered us his rent house until we can get on our feet. It’s on the other side of town – which means you will have to change schools.

Again? Not again, mom.

Hush and be thankful we have it because God only knows where we would live without this man’s offer. It’s going to increase my drive to work by 45 minutes each way so you’re going to have to be more helpful. That means riding the bus to school and getting home every day by yourself.

Yes, ma’am.

Bethany knew that was her signal to be quiet. Pressing her mother always ended up triggering her anger, which lay like a sleeping giant just below the surface.

Hasty moves from rental properties had become the norm for Bethany. She had often overheard her mother beg landlords for more time to come up with the rent money. The last move had proven to be quite expensive because they had moved from out of state to escape her mother’s ex-boyfriend. That too had become common – her mother’s bad choices in men.

Bethany’s mom would sacrifice her dignity and their safety in an attempt to gain financial security from a man. Somehow it never worked out. The men never wanted Bethany around and didn’t respect her mother. It was a vicious cycle that seemed unbreakable until her great grandparents intervened and insisted that they move in. That was the happiest time in Bethany’s life, well other than when she lived with her mother and father as a family.

The news stations covered the house fire that evening, prompting generous donations of furniture, clothing and household goods from the community. Bethany felt thankful for the help of strangers but questioned if her life would ever be stable.

Why can’t my parents love each other like Nana and Pap? she wondered. She didn’t have a picture of them anymore. All she had was her memory of the last time she saw them – Nana stroking Pap’s hair and holding his hand refusing to leave him.

Bethany’s mother never discussed the event with her, but she overheard her mom tell her aunt that the hospital bill would take a lifetime to repay. Bethany felt like she was the cause of everyone’s problems: her parent’s divorce, her expensive hospital bill and her inability to save her great-grandparents.

******

Laura’s relationship with her mom had always been volatile, mostly caused by Laura’s rebellious and disrespectful behavior, which increased after her father’s death four years earlier. Though he supported his wife’s stance against Laura’s destructive lifestyle, he also tried to remain the peacemaker between the two of them. He remained hopeful of reconciliation until his last breath. Bethany felt loved by her grandmother and longed to spend more time with her, but Laura prevented it, mostly to punish her mother.

*******

Laura wisely delayed her grandparents’ funeral for Bethany’s sake, but by the time she was released from the hospital, Laura couldn’t put off making funeral arrangements any longer. She refused to ask her mother for financial help. She lied and said she had the money to take care of it and that her dad would’ve wanted it that way for his parents.

The truth was that Laura didn’t want to see her mother or allow Bethany the opportunity either. She feared that her mother would conspire to have Bethany removed and she would try to get custody. It wasn’t that Laura would’ve minded Bethany living somewhere else, in fact, it would’ve benefited her because Bethany was always an obstacle in her relationships. More than anything, Laura’s focus was punishing her mom.

Laura called the county and inquired about their burial assistance program. She certainly met all of the requirements needed. She had little to no money and her grandparents had been staunch believers in stashing their money under their mattress instead of trusting banks. So everything they had burned up in the flames and there were no remaining assets to collect. Thankfully, there was no remaining debt either.

After a 5-day process, Laura picked up a check from the county office. It was a meager amount, but at least it was enough. She had hoped for more, perhaps for personal use but the supervisor explained that all receipts and any remaining funds must be returned within three business days of the funeral.

Laura took Bethany to the funeral home to select caskets. Laura stressed over the costs of the coffins, flowers and the memorial service fees. The director did his best, shaving off all of his profit to help them.

We don’t need to buy flowers, Mom. You know that field by Nana’s house?

Laura nodded, somewhat annoyed.

It’s full of Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes. I’ll pick some special ones! Nana’s favorite color was blue, Bethany answered excitedly.

No Bethany, we don’t have the money to buy vases.

Well, we will just lay them on top then, Bethany resolved.

The funeral director felt compassion for Bethany and offered all of the vases she wanted at no charge. Bethany felt a supreme sense of responsibility and pride to honor her great grandparents in this way.

Well, we still can’t pay for the memorial service, Laura announced in a defeated tone.

Oh! What if we ask Suzy’s dad?

Who is Suzy? Laura asked in an indifferent tone.

My friend who lives down the street from Nana and Pap’s house. You remember Mom? They gave us a bed and nightstand for me.

Laura nodded.

Well, her dad is the pastor at Harmony Christian Church. I’m sure he would do it if I asked him, Bethany said in