A Dream for Hannah (3 page)

Hannah’s mind caught the vision of Sam’s mouth dropping open and his freckled face turning fully toward her.
Nee, definitely not Sam.

“Right, aren’t I? Admit it.”

Hannah would have glared at her if Alice had been Amish, but this was an
Englisha
girl, and so she smiled. “Sam’s not my type at all.”

“Whatever you say. I just hope it turns out all right for you.” Alice paused, a startled look on her face, her eyes fixed on their doorway that led to the hall.

Hannah turned to look but saw nothing more unusual than the glimpse of a boy in a wheelchair slowly moving up the hallway. From the back of him, Hannah could tell little of what he looked like other than he had blond hair and looked
Englisha.

“You know him?” she asked Alice.

Alice turned her face away, for what reason Hannah couldn’t fathom. “Oh, a little,” she said. Then suddenly turning toward Hannah, she said, “I’ve seen him around town.”

“You looked surprised.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Alice assured her. “Just seeing somebody I know—it’s kind of unexpected in here. I mean, what are the chances of them getting sick at the same time you do?” Alice sat up suddenly, reached over, and pushed the call button. When the nurse appeared, she asked, “Can I go move around in the hall a bit? I think I need some exercise.”

“Sure, honey,” the nurse replied, “exercise sounds like a good idea. Let me go make arrangements for you,” she said, disappearing down the hall.

“Just need some air,” Alice said in Hannah’s direction.

Before Hannah could respond, the same boy in the wheelchair appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“Can I come in?” he asked cheerfully.

Hannah wasn’t certain as to what to say, and so she said nothing.

He smiled, gave the wheels of his wheelchair a push, and rolled between the two beds.

“Hi,” he said to both of them, his head turning in one direction and then the other.

“Hi, Peter,” Alice said. Then in Hannah’s direction, she added, “He’s the boy that just went by.”

Hannah nodded in Peter’s direction. He seemed awfully bold—the kind of boy her mom always warned her about. He had bright blue eyes and tremendous good looks. How tall he was, she couldn’t tell because of the wheelchair, but his hair was, in fact, blond. She was also sure now that he looked quite
Englisha.

“You going home soon?” he asked in Alice’s direction.

“This afternoon,” she said. “Mom’s coming. Dad’s coming too if he has the time. I should be up and about in a few days. Nothing serious, you know. Why it took them this long to figure it out, I’ll never know.”

“I’ll be out tomorrow afternoon,” Peter said. Then he turned in Hannah’s direction and said, “You’re Amish, aren’t you?”

She looked at him without answering right away, reluctant to get into another
Englisha
person’s questions about the Amish.

“I know you are,” he said when she said nothing, “because your parents were in here last night. I saw them check on you. I’m Amish too. We live over in Goshen. What’s your name?”

Hannah’s attention was immediately gained, and her reluctance melted like ice on a hot summer’s day. Amish made him safe, even if he was in
rumspringa,
which given his non-Amish appearance, he might very well be.

“I’m in because I had my appendix taken out yesterday,” Peter offered, his eyes focused on her. “Like I told Alice, I should be here till tomorrow. You look like you might be out soon too,” he added as he reached his hand out as if to touch her forehead in sympathy.

Although Hannah could only see his eyes, she felt a great weakness flood over her.
This boy is not an
Englisha. The thought burned inside of her. He was Amish and so much better looking than even Mary’s Laverne back in eighth grade.

Then slowly, against her will, Hannah felt her face become warm. First her neck, then the flush spread over her face, yet her body shivered under the blankets. Peter had the biggest, sweetest smile she had ever seen. The sight took her breath away—the arch of his high brows, the warm expressive mouth, the quick blink of his eyes. Against the light hospital gown, his blond hair looked even blonder.

“Is your mother coming back anytime soon?” he asked. His blue eyes shone deeply.

Hannah looked into them and found no strength to answer.

Alice solved the problem by saying, “You are a bad boy, Peter.” Her voice carried a deep sarcasm and broke the spell Hannah was under.

Peter laughed, a deep manly sound. “That’s something coming from you. You’re quite the judge.”

Hannah caught her breath at the sound of his laugh. How could a laugh sound so delightful?

The nurse suddenly appeared in the doorway and said to Peter, “Visiting again?”

“Not anymore,” Peter said as he turned his wheelchair around.

“Your mother’s here,” the nurse said to Hannah. Turning back to Peter, she asked, “Have you been behaving?”

He grinned at her. “Of course, I’m always a good boy.” And with that, he wheeled himself out of the room.

Just then, Kathy knocked gently on the side of the door and said, “Good morning” to Hannah and, “Hi,” to Alice.

To Hannah’s surprise her mom seemed to know Alice.

“I had heard you were in the hospital,” Kathy said. “A case of the winter flu…in springtime?”

“It turned into pneumonia,” Alice said, “but I’m better now, and I’m supposed to go home today.”

“I imagine you can’t wait.” Kathy patted her on the arm.

The nurse returned with a wheelchair just then and said, “She doesn’t have to wait at all. Alice, your parents are here. You’re being released now.”

Hannah and Kathy waited while the nurse helped Alice gather her things and gingerly climb into the wheelchair. Hannah was sure Alice gave her a sideways glance as she left, making a point to not say goodbye. Why, Hannah couldn’t imagine.

Hannah brought her thoughts back to her mother as Kathy told her, “Hannah, the doctor says you’re doing well and can come home the day after tomorrow.”

“I’d be ready to go right now,” Hannah said with considerable passion. “I don’t like this place.”

“I know, but it’s best to follow the doctor’s orders. If you go home too soon, it could cause complications we’ll regret.”

Hannah nodded grimly.

“I brought you something,” Kathy said, holding out her hand with an obviously homemade card.

“Oh,” Hannah said, her face brightening, “a card.”

“Yes, guess who from.”

Hannah made a face. “How should I know?”

Kathy chuckled as she gave her the card.

Hannah eagerly opened the envelope, pulled the card out, and then shrieked. The card flew from her hand back toward her mom as if it were poison. “Not from Sam! I can’t believe this. After he dared—” She pointed to her head.

Kathy laughed heartily and then said, “But Hannah, Sam didn’t mean it. He was so cute when he brought the card over. You can’t help but love the bumbling fellow. His mouth dropped open in that special way when I told him that I would be glad to give you the card.”

“Oh, Mom. He’s
not
cute when he does that. It’s really pretty disgusting.”

Kathy was still laughing. “I thought you liked him back in eighth grade. What happened?”

“I only liked him because we had to have someone, and there was no one else.”

“We should always be careful of what we say,” Kathy said in an attempt to quell her laughter. “You should at least look at the card.”

“I already did.”

“You sure?” Kathy held up the opened card so Hannah could see both sides. Sam had drawn a rough sketch of flowers. Half of them looked as if they were dead—the others on life support. Over the top he had written, “So sorry. Hope you get well soon. Yours truly, Sam Knepp.”

Hannah shivered as she remembered the blow to her head and then the sudden darkness of last night.

“Take that away. Don’t make me look at the thing.” She turned her face away to emphasize the point and then relented at the look on her mom’s face. “Well, take it home then. Put it in my room, if you must. Maybe I’ll get more cards to hide this one behind.”

“Well, be nice to him,” Kathy said. “And by the way, who was that boy who left just as I was coming down the hall?”

“His name’s Peter. He said he was Amish and from the Goshen area. He’s in here because of an appendix operation. That’s about all I know of him.”

“I see,” Kathy said. “He looks familiar. I think I know him from somewhere.”

Hannah was tempted to ask from where but changed her mind, because her mom would notice if the color spread to her face as it surely would if she talked about Peter.

“Everyone felt bad about the accident,” Kathy said. “Miriam said a couple of the parents talked with their children after we left. I hope everyone will be more careful in the future.”

“Surely they didn’t blame anyone for what happened to me. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“No, they didn’t,” Kathy assured her. “I suppose they just want everyone to slow down a bit, especially on corners.”

“No one ever slows down when playing Wolf,” Hannah said. “If you run slowly, the other person will beat you.”

“Yes, I remember,” Kathy said. “I used to play Wolf too, you know.”

Hannah smiled at the thought.

“By the way, Isaac found blood on the grass.” Kathy wrinkled her own face. “Why he would look, I don’t know. But he had to announce his find at the breakfast table.”

Hannah could easily picture her younger brother, with his plate of eggs and bacon, telling everyone about finding his sister’s blood.

“That’s like him.”

“I thought Emma would lose it, but she’s used to her brother’s teasing,” Kathy said. “My brothers were like that too. We just learned to live with them.”

“Why couldn’t I have just had sisters?” Hannah said.

“Same question I used to ask,” Kathy said with a grin. “Well, I better go now. But I’ll be back tomorrow to see you.” Kathy got to her feet. “Will you be okay? They seem to have good care here at the hospital.”

Hannah nodded, and Kathy kissed her gently on the cheek. “Be a good girl now.”

As Kathy went out the door, Hannah wanted to cry, but choked back the tears. Alice’s empty bed across the room didn’t help much either. She had to be a big girl now, whatever that meant. She sure didn’t feel very big.

By late that afternoon, Hannah lay awake despite the medicine that was supposed to make her drowsy. She watched the window as the last rays of the sun hung in the sky. They seemed to weakly work their way into the hospital room as if to say a last goodbye before the night came. Hannah’s mind then wandered to Peter and those strange emotions she had felt earlier in the day. She wondered if she would ever get to see those blue eyes again.

Then suddenly she knew, as if the weak rays from the window were transformed into the bright light of the morning. What she was feeling must surely be love. The poem! She had felt this same way when she read the poem.

Hannah closed her eyes as the realization fully sank in.
Who would have thought this possible and so soon? Love at first sight. It really does happen. It has happened to me!

“Peter,” she said, moving her lips without any sound. She said the name again, “Peter,” and it sounded even better the second time.

Will it feel like this forever?
She turned the question over in her mind.
Will this last? Surely it will.
Hannah said his name again, the sound soft on her lips, and hung on to the memory of the moments when he had been by her bedside.

“So
this
is love,” she said, closing her eyes and slowly dropping off to sleep.

Back at the Miller home, Kathy told the other children it was their bedtime and, after they left reluctantly, she turned to Roy and said, “I have to tell you something.”

He glanced up, mild concern on his face. “You sound serious.”

“I hope it’s nothing,” Kathy said quickly, “but when I visited Hannah today, there was a boy leaving her room as I came in.”

“Hannah? A boy?” Roy wrinkled up his face. “Already? I wish she wouldn’t get involved with boys. She’s not old enough.”

“No, she’s not. But this boy is someone I recognize. I think he’s in
rumspringa.
He has a reputation.”

“But Hannah’s a bright girl. She knows right from wrong.”

“Yes, she’s a bright girl, but she’s still a girl. When I walked into the room, I noticed something different—not just her injury. A mother can tell these things. She had a serious flush on her face even as she felt the pain from her injury. Roy, this boy’s name is Peter. He’s Nathaniel’s boy. You know, one of your cousin’s friends.”

“Even so, surely it won’t go any further. She’ll be out of the hospital soon. It’s not like this Peter will be around her after this.”

“From the look on his face, I wouldn’t trust him very much. And just remember that she’s about seventeen.”

“Yes.” Roy sat back in his chair. “That
rumspringa.
She hasn’t started anything yet, and I hope she doesn’t. Depending on the boy, this might give her ideas. If the boy’s running around in town, she might want to also. I don’t like it one bit.”