The End of Hell(Part 4)

     Hell is a slippery adversary.  Just as you think that you have escaped, it pulls you back.  Sleep is the only escape, where for a short while, you can forget the pain and agony that is engulfing you.  Sweeping over you in a cold, frigid flood, washing away what little you have managed to bring back.  As I feel the tug on my feet, I struggle with all the fiber of my being to remain asleep.  This effort works for a while.
     I see myself back in Headland, living next door to Cleveland Lee's garage.  I am lying on the bed crying.  Dad is trying to comfort me, but I won't have any of it.  I don't know what caused me to be upset, but I will never forget him for his kindness.  He had to give up and go to work.  The following night, I had to go to the store across the street.  It was dark, but the street lights gave off enough light to see.  They also cast strange shadows, that to a five year old, looked like satan himself.  My short legs were moving like pistons in a 283 Chevy short block at full throttle.  I was moving so fast that everything was a blur.  Just as I made it into the yard and safety, satan grabbed me from behind.  "Help", I screamed at the top of my lungs.  Just then dad sat me down and rolled onto the ground laughing his ass off.  I knew that I got to close to that bush.  As soon as the fear left me, I laughed also.  It was funny and I was glad that I would not be eaten that night.
     Even as I laughed, I could feel the grip of hell getting stronger.  I was straining so hard against it, that my head hurt.  William was a friend in my late teens.  He was a big strong boy that shared my love for alcohol.  Nothing scared him.  He had broken his neck playing football for Headland.  I did not know him before that, but everyone said that it changed him.  We would do everything together.  Mostly that involved riding around in his car and drinking beer.  William had a great personality and everyone liked him, especially mom and dad.  A few times we go to Preston's Mill with dad and some of his friends, to swim in the snake infested river.  We were all so tanked up that the snakes had to leave.  What sober snake can stand to be around a bunch of drunks anyway?  Ah, those were the days, little did I know they were setting the groundwork for the rest of my life.
     Oh shit, here it comes again.  How many times have I been jerked back here?  The chains are almost my friends.  At least  I know where I am.  The utter desolation and loneliness keep my mind off everything, except for the misery that I am in.  Every time I come back here, the pain is more intense.  The longer that I am awake, the more tired I become.  I know that soon I will be able to escape again, if only for a short while.
    The moon is shining bright on the Newville Highway.  We were the only car on the road, and when we turned the headlights off we could see for miles on the flat road.  It was late and we had finished all the beer.  There was nowhere open at this time of night to buy more.  William and I were tired and needed some sleep or another beer to keep us from crashing.  We were doing fine then it changed.  In a split second we were arguing furiously.  After passing a few licks in the car, he stopped by the side of the road and I got out.  He sped off, leaving me stranded by the edge of the highway.  The moon disappeared behind a stray cloud and darkness engulfed me.  I was pissed off, but not overly concerned, for I was only about a twenty minute walk from home.
     I could hear the '61 Ford coming around the curve behind me.  The four barrel carburetor was pouring gas into the screaming 390 full block engine,  It sounded like a freight train barrelling up behind me in the dark.  I ain't even going to look back, just keep walking.  As hard as I tried not to, something made me look anyway.  What the hell?  I had to jump to the side to keep from being hit.  He went by me at over a hundred.  You fucking bastard, I screamed as I rose from the dirt, shaking my fist at him, knowing that he could not hear me.  I walked and cussed, walked and cussed.  Then I saw his lights coming toward me.  I was prepared for him this time and at the last minute, I stepped to the side.  Now I was concerned, for I knew that it was not over.  When he came back, it was at a slow snail's pace.  He pulled up beside me and asked "Are you o k?"
"Fuck you", I replied.
"I'm sorry, Charles, come on, get in."  he said sorrowfully.
     I got in and he carried me home.  We were not friends for a while, but we eventually friends again.  As we both married and raised our families, we drifted apart.  A few years ago, I got a call from Don.
     "Do you know where I am?" he asked.
     "No, where?", I answered.
      "I am at William's funeral."  "He had a heart attack while burning trash in his yard and fell into the fire.  We don't know if he died before he burned or if the fire killed him." Don responded.
    We only lived a few miles apart, but it might as well have been a lifetime.  Usually when I have escaped from hell I am happy, but not this time.
     Jimmy was a friend of mine and Williams.  He was a short stocky man and mean as a snake.  He whipped every cop in Dothan and blinded one in a bar fight.  He went to prison for that.  I saw him for the first time in forty years, when he walked into the shop.  He was out on work release and was able to stop and see me.  He told me that William was murdered by his mistress' husband and was thrown into the fire to cover it up.  That may be true, but what does it matter?  He is dead and nothing can change that.  a few weeks later, I saw Jimmy on the news.  He had been arrested, while in jail, for trying to solicit a hit man to kill the district attorney.  He received a life sentence for that.  I guess hell is relative to your situation.