Memories
Dreams
Confusion
Turn into utter chaos
And dissolutions.
~ Hannah Gunner ~
Hannah wandered aimlessly toward the elevator, tapping away on her phone. The first text she sent was to Lindsey. Yes, she was hanging in there, didn’t need anything, but thanks for checking. She hesitated before responding to the second text, which was from Cash. Desperately wanting to see him, she was torn between not wanting him to see her looking the way she did, like crap, with a tear-stained face and worn out, and responding to his text and asking him to pick her up so she could go home and shower in her own shower instead of the makeshift hospital shower in her mom’s room. Her heartache over her mom’s downward spiral, the need to see him, and the task now at hand, finding the mysterious box, if it even existed, had worn her out.
Hannah: Hey there, you busy?
Cash: Nah. Waiting for you to answer my text.
Hannah: Sorry about that, been crazy here.
Cash: You okay?
Hannah: Yes, and no. Pick me up and drive me home?
Cash: On my way!
A slight smile crossed her face when she read his response; realizing how much she missed everything about him, despite the circumstances, made her excited to see him again. His cocky smile, unkempt dirty blond hair hanging in front of his Oakley’s, was just what she needed to take the chaos temporarily away that she was now experiencing.
Cash’s music could be heard before his Jeep was even in sight, but as he pulled up in front of the hospital entrance, he turned it down. Hannah hesitated before climbing in. With the door ajar, staring at him, she told him how much she loved him and how happy she was to see him at that exact moment.
“Damn! You just made my day!” He winked at her, told her he loved her too, and added, “Are you getting in or what?”
Capturing everything about his expression at that moment, Hannah took a mental photograph of his face. She’d never felt that way before, in love, and except for her mom, couldn’t think of a single person in the world she needed right then more than him. Pulling herself up into the Jeep, she leaned over, kissed him on the lips, and buckled up.
“Man, I’ve missed you!”
“Me too, you,” she replied. “It’s been crazy.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
His gleaming dark browns told her he was genuinely pleased to see her as much as she was happy to see him. He held her hand the entire way, even while switching gears, never once letting her hand slip out of his.
“I was getting worried about you; I’m so glad you wanted to slip home for a bit.” Hesitating, he asked, “How’s she doing?”
“Right now, it’s hard to say, but none of it is good.” Hannah had trouble saying the words. “I heard the words stage four for the first time today, and even I know that isn’t good.” Staring out the window, she added, “They don’t know how long she had this before her initial diagnosis, but they think it must have been a long time, and all of these complications stem from it.”
“Wow. Did your mom know, I mean, that she had it?”
Hannah shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno.”
Shuddering, Hannah blocked the conversation with the doctor out of her mind. Cash, not knowing how to respond, didn’t say a word. Squeezing his grip around Hannah’s hand was all he needed to do—silent reassurance. After a few minutes, Hannah tried to approach the conversation about the box with Cash.
“I need to pick up some overnight things from the house that I forgot to ask Kathy to grab, and there’s something I need to do or find. I don’t really know.” Glancing at him, she could tell by the look on his face that Cash was waiting for her to explain.
“Well, that sounded vague in a weird sort of way.” Cash gently squeezed her hand. “What are you looking for?”
Hannah shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know.” Running her hands through her long blond hair and wrapping it up into a messy makeshift bun on top of her head, she looked confused as she fumbled her way through what her mom had tried to ask her to do. Her big blue eyes, dull, looked sad and distant, and it pained Cash to see her that way.
“I don’t even know if this box exists,” Hannah whispered. “Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m looking for yet. It’s just something my mom was going on and on about; something she said I had to find, and it’s supposedly a box that belongs to me located in her closet.”
“Well, I’ll just wait for you in the Jeep if you like, if it’s personal.”
Hannah kissed the top of his hand. “No. You can come in with me.” Taking a deep breath and exhaling, “I need you to come with me; I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”
“Only if you want me to.”
Drained, Hannah half-heartedly smiled. “Honestly, I do. I think I’m supposed to take the box to her, but I’m not sure because she’s kinda confused. She was rambling and kept saying it was for me. I’m telling you, the whole thing was so weird!”
“Sounds like it!”
“I’ve never heard her talk about this box or a box like this before, like ever. And I’m not even sure if it’s real. It’s possible she’s delirious because of all of the meds.” Hannah paused. “Seriously, though, the nurse did say she could be delirious at times.”
Cash pulled up to the complex, entered the code, and parked in front of Hannah’s apartment.
“Well, let’s go find this box, then!” He grinned. “Or you can, and I’ll chill in the kitchen.”
“Let’s do it!”
The apartment felt weird. The atmosphere was oddly still and semi-stale. No air circulating or activity had been going on in there that day or evening, and it was apparent. Gloria, a stickler for conserving electricity and energy in general, turned everything down or off unless they were home. Nothing, not even a lamp, had been turned on while they’d been gone. She must have managed to either instruct Kathy or turned everything off before she’d collapsed. Good grief, thought Hannah. Flipping on the kitchen light, opening the fridge, and grabbing a couple sodas, Hannah handed one to Cash before proceeding down the hallway in such a manner that he knew not to follow.
“Holler if you need me,” he yelled, and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Thanks,” she replied, marching straight into Gloria’s room and flipping on the light. The bed was unmade, but she couldn’t help noticing that everything else was still neatly in its place. Nothing was out of order. Gloria’s heavy sweater lay on the foot of the bed, and Hannah picked it up to inhale the scent of her mom’s perfume. The closet door, which was mirrored, was half opened and Hannah caught a glimpse of herself. She stared at her mom’s sweater held up to her face. Hannah inhaled her mom’s scent again for good measure before placing it exactly where she’d found it. She was her mother’s daughter, everyone said so, but in the reflection in the mirror, she didn’t feel as if she looked as beautiful as her mom had always seemed to her. Her eyes scanned the room, and in the eeriest way it felt as if she was looking at it for the first time. A photo of the two of them, Hannah was eleven, sat on Gloria’s dresser, along with a picture of the three of them, little Hannah, three or four maybe, Hank, and Gloria, and the one of Hannah by herself in her pirate costume. Hannah picked up the photo of her and her mom, admiring the two beautiful people in the frame—was that really them? No one would have recognized either of them! Hannah all grown up, and that lady, she looked so different today. Hannah realized at that moment that her mom hadn’t looked like herself for quite some time; in the photo she had a full face, a big smile from ear to ear, sparkling eyes, and glowing skin. That lady, right there in her hands, looked nothing like the woman lying ill in the hospital bed. The one gasping for air, thin, pale, and sickly. Gloria had been settling in these days by 7:00 unless she had a night shift. She was constantly exhausted, and always picking at her food. Now admitted to the hospital, Hannah wondered how long her mom had really been ill, and why on earth hadn’t she noticed before now? The signs had surely all been there! Putting the picture back where she found it, straightening it to be sure it was exactly how her mom had left it, she turned to face the closet on the other side of the room.
Reaching out for the handle, Hannah hesitated. Gloria’s words resonated, reverberating as if bouncing around her brain and ringing in her ears. Sorry, Hannah. I’m so sorry. Sorry. Hannah froze. Shaking her head as if that would make the sound of her mom’s voice go away, she found the courage to reach out and put her hand back on the closet handle door and began to slide it open. Slide it right or slide it left? It made no difference; she’d have to search both sides. She opted to push the door left and search to the right first. The closet was narrow but long. Unlike Hannah’s, it was organized, though packed. Sweaters, just like her mom had stated, were neatly folded and piled underneath sweatshirts and pullovers on the top shelf. Reaching all the way to the ceiling, some as old as Hannah, the pile of clothes stretched and Hannah couldn’t help but wonder if the woman ever threw anything away. She didn’t find a box of any sort to the right hand of the closet, corner, or center. Everything appeared to have a place and seemed to be where it was supposed to be. Stepping out of the closet, Hannah slid the door to the right and began her search of the left-hand side of the closet. Nervously she poked around under each pile until her hand finally brushed up against the side of something hard pressed against the closet wall.
“Everything okay?” Cash yelled from the kitchen.
“Yeah, good. Turn the TV on, if you like.”
Within a few seconds Hannah could hear what sounded like a commentator discussing a basketball game. Her hands fumbled underneath the mysterious box, cardboard, and nervously, she slid it out from underneath the sweaters. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could easily count each beat in her chest. It was heavy, but not so heavy she needed help. Upon closer examination, she could tell it was beige, tattered, and worn. It looked like an old shoe or small boot box, and the lid, now loose, had been secured by a thick rubber band. It had apparently been something that her mom had kept up with for many years, and must have been moved from home to home without Hannah’s knowledge. Hannah carefully lifted down the box and placed it on the floor so she wouldn’t spill the contents. Kneeling in front of the box, she stared at it for a few moments before nervously removing the rubber band. Snapping, it popped her on her bare skin as soon she tried to remove it from the lid, stinging her hand.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuu!”
She caught herself before the F word flew out of her mouth, but the red mark that the rubber band left behind on her hand was a nasty reminder of why she was about to lose her cool! Though her mom asked her to retrieve the box, it felt as if she were invading her mom’s privacy. Weird, since Gloria kept insisting it was her box in the first place. Contemplating what to do and what the contents of the box held, she kept running through the multiple possibilities: mementos maybe, or even her childhood projects from school, photographs, a will? Just open it! she instructed herself. Taking a deep breath, she flipped off the lid, catching sight of the contents for the very first time. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking at. Envelope after envelope filled the box, all the way to the brim. Letter after letter, all handwritten on faded yellow, thinning, worn-out paper, stared her in the face. Eyes huge, Hannah’s hands dug in between the envelops and she pulled them out, glancing at them one after the other, and one thing remained the same: they were all stamped, addressed, and mailed to her! Trembling, she read the names one by one: Hannah Gunner, Hannah Gunner, Hannah Gunner, addressee, Hannah Gunner!
“Wait… what?”
Every single one of them was addressed to Hannah Gunner c/o Gloria Gunner. Shock consumed her, chills ran up her spine, and her blood ran cold as her eyes darted to the left-hand side of the envelopes and she caught sight of the return address line. RETURN TO SENDER: HANK GUNNER—FOLSOM STATE PRISON.
Some of the letters and cards were opened, and some surprisingly were still sealed. The muffled sound of the TV in the background had been drowned out by Hannah’s racing heartbeats pounding through her chest. Questions banging around in her head, too many to answer, and who would she ask right then anyway?! Frantically rummaging through the box, her fingers landed on an envelope, which had been opened, and a photograph fell out: a little girl dressed in pink and white pajamas, wearing a handkerchief tied around her head, and holding a wooden sword. She was smiling. A smile so huge it practically crossed her entire face. In the background stood a man. Hannah gasped and held the photograph close to her eyes, peering at it in awe, as if seeing the image of the man for the first time in her life.
“Captain,” she whispered. “It’s the Captain!”
Hands trembling, she stared at the faded ink on the letter that she held in her hands. It was still legible. A nervous, panicky feeling overwhelmed her as soon as she realized a ghost from her past had revisited. Sitting in a crumpled pile on her mom’s bedroom floor, she read the letter that she now held in her hand through blurry, tear-filled eyes.
Dearest First Matey,
If you could only see me now, you would not be happy with me! It’s safe to say I have quite a black spot on me soul! They say dead men tell no tales; remember when we even used to say that?
Well, Matey, I feel as if I’m already dead without you, my little pirate, at my side! There has no doubt been a mutiny, but you knew that from my last letter. Our scallywag, turned tyrant, is really cross with me, but that said, rightfully so!
Don’t worry; I will do my best to make it up to both of you, and will be home soon. Promise to be a good lass, or should I say First Matey! But above all, please, please, please don’t forget how much I love and miss you!
Yes, Hannah, I remembered. Exist as a pirate to survive, and always remember, sweet little Hannah, you are our greatest treasure of all!
Captain
Letter after letter all addressed to Hannah: birthday cards, Christmas cards, and even a few Easter cards. Ripping them open and reading them through tear-filled eyes, she didn’t hear Cash enter the room. Startled, she jumped when he gently laid his hand on her shoulder and crouched down next to her. She lost it completely. Feeling as if he’d just walked into something he shouldn’t have, Cash suddenly wished he hadn’t entered the room at all. Eyes darting between Hannah and the paper-filled box, he knew something was amiss. Crying uncontrollably into his shoulder, with no explanation, she couldn’t stop herself.
“May I?” he asked, reaching for the letter that Hannah now held in her hands.
Without saying a word or acknowledging his question, Hannah handed him one of the letters.
Dearest Hannah,
They say time flies, but in here it stands still! I miss you and your mom so much! The silence is deafening; not a word, a single word, have I read or heard from you or that tyrant, your mom. (Please don’t tell her I said that.) She is already very angry with me! I know this, it’s important you understand she is a great mom; though admittedly, she’s a terrible ship-hand. :-)
Truthfully, I bear her no ill will. This is all my doing, but I will fix it, and make it right. Trust me! Please, please ask her to let you write. Have her help you or even by now you could write me a letter yourself, maybe? Just a line or two, and tell me how you’re doing. I think about you and your mom every single second of every single day. I hope you will forgive me, even if your mom can’t, and even that I understand. Please, Hannah, please, drop me a line. A single line will do.
Daddy, & if you can remember, you called me the Captain!
Cash read the handwritten words scribbled on the page twice.
“Your dad is the Captain; the one in your dreams?”
Hannah nodded.
“I swear at times I thought I imagined him.”
Cash read another letter and asked her a question she should have expected, but was shocked and unprepared when she heard him say it.
“Have you seen these before, the letters?” he asked. “Is this the box your mom was talking about?”
It was as if a blanket of shock washed over Hannah’s porcelain skin. Struggling for words, she dug into the box and pulled out another letter.
“It is the first time I’ve seen this box.” Staring at the pile before her, and what seemed like hundreds of letters, if not more, Hannah added, “And no, I had no idea the letters existed.” Running her hands across her face in frustration, she asked him a question.
“Cash, why would my mom keep these from me?” She held up a letter. “Why?”
Cash shook his head; he had no clue nor response that he could think of that would make any sense. “I have no idea; you know your mom better than me. Maybe there was more between them, history, than you know; think about it, you were little.” Cash didn’t have any answers nor did he dare try to make up an excuse. He kept his mouth shut after that!
A large tear glided down Hannah’s cheek and landed on one of the letters that she was still holding in her hand. Frantically she wiped it off before it bled the faded ink, or worse, made a hole in the aged paper.
“I swear, not even as a kid have I ever seen these letters or this box before. This I know I would have remembered!”
Cash dove back into the box and pulled out another letter and read it, slowly this time, and out loud. They took it in turns, reading a few lines from different letters and cards to each other. It became clear that some were written when Hannah was very young, and some must have been written when she was in her middle school and early teen years. Sharing such a personal moment with Hannah, especially over someone else’s privately written words, was both intimate and bonding for the two of them in a way that neither would have ever imagined. Cash leaned over and softly kissed the top of her head, before putting the letters that were scattered on the ground back into the box.
“Well, as much as I hate to bring it up, it’s getting late, and I guess we’ll be getting some answers for you soon.” Sticking out his hand, he offered to pull her to her feet.
Hannah nodded and reached for his extended hand. “Should I ask her about it? Now, I mean.”
Cash bit his bottom lip and rolled his head from side to side; that was all the answer she needed, but he added his thoughts anyway. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now; she’s going through so much and needs her strength, not twenty questions, you know what I mean?” Hannah didn’t respond, but she knew he was right; her mom had more significant issues on her plate than a box full of old letters. There would be time for all of this, answers to her questions when the time was right. For now, Hannah would wait.
A text message from Kathy reminded both of them it was time to go; people were tracking them down. Hannah looked worn out, and she hadn’t even had time to jump in the shower; the hospital shower would have to suffice. Grabbing a few of the letters, she stuffed them into her backpack, placed the lid back on the tattered box, and placed the box in her room. Cash stood by, watching, but never said one word. Grabbing her phone cord, her brush, and an extra body spray, Hannah shoved everything into her bag and locked up. They drove back to the hospital in silence, Hannah lost in her thoughts, Cash nervous about what she might say to her mom, but hoping for Gloria’s sake and Hannah’s that she would put it off until the time was right.
“You know, I could’ve written to him so many times.”
Cash carried her bag on one shoulder and held her hand in his as they walked toward the hospital elevator.
“Right,” he answered. He tried to change the subject. “I wonder if Kathy needs a break? I can pick y’all up some food; bet she hasn’t eaten yet.”
Hannah hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “Seriously, and I’m not kidding, for years I thought I was going crazy; thought I’d made up the Captain, dreamt about that beach, treasure, ship, and playing pirate games for years.” Cash kept walking and pulling her along with him. “I mean, let’s face it, I knew he was there once, but then he was gone and Mom never really talked about him.” Pushing the elevator button, she kept talking. “Then as a kid, when he did leave, it felt like he’d left me. It got super complicated, super fast, and I guess I quit asking what the hell happened.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. “Don’t get me wrong; Mom did tell me he’d ended up in prison, some fight, after losing his best friend.” Stepping off the elevator, she casually mentioned, “And that’s about the time I found out he’d died, the prison part, and that period for me kinda all ran together.” Stopping in the hallway, she looked up at Cash. “I guess because I was little at the time my head must have merged all the events together, blocking my dad out, but keeping the good stuff in.”
“Captain Fin?”
“Yep, him, Captain Fin.” Hannah blew away a single strand of hair that had fallen across her face. “Captain Fin did bring me a lot of joy as a kid; that I do remember.”
Cash wrapped his arm around her neck and started walking, forcing her to do the same. “Guess at that time in your life you liked being a pirate better more than a kid.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” she whispered. “He made it really fun.”
“Do you remember your mom talking about him when he was gone, at Folsom State Prison?”
Hannah thought about it for a minute. “I don’t remember her speaking badly of him, or saying negative things to me about our situation in regards to him, you know, moving all the time. In fact, come to think of it, she never really mentioned him at all.”
‘She never remarried,” Cash noted. “Did she ever date?”
“No, and I’ve never known my mom to see another man or bring one home for that matter.”
“Well if you ask me, and I know you didn’t,” Cash chuckled, “it sounds like she never got over him.” Pulling her closer, he opened his mouth to say something, closed it again as if he shouldn’t say what he was going to say, and then blurted it out anyway. “You could look at it this way,” he smiled. “She did tell you about the box; better late than never, right?”
Hannah agreed. Her mom wanted her to have the box. She needed her to know that her dad had loved and missed her, but right now they needed to focus on her mom’s health and get her well enough to at least come home. Hannah kissed him goodbye at Gloria’s hospital door, dismissing him; he still didn’t want to leave, but he went home. Gloria was still sleeping, and Kathy was reading in the chair when Hannah entered her mom’s room. Hannah kissed her mom on the cheek before planting herself on the tiny couch, which was squeezed next to her aunt’s chair and the wall.
“Any change?” Hannah asked, looking toward Gloria.
“She was awake for a little bit, not long, and she’s resting now.” Kathy set her book down in her lap. “Hannah, she was asking for you. I don’t want to scare you, but between the medications and the pain meds, she’s delirious.” Kathy lowered her voice. “I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what she was saying.”
The two settled in for the evening; Kathy read her book until her eyes could take it no longer, and fell asleep in the chair. Hannah texted Cash and Lindsey before pulling out the handful of letters shoved in her bag. She read them over and over until she practically knew every word written on the faded yellow paper by heart. So many questions! But Hannah was well aware that before Gloria could explain a single thing about her past, or clarify the questions that raced through her mind, her mom had to get better first.