A Dream for Hannah (7 page)

That evening Kathy approached Roy with the subject of Peter.

Kathy motioned Hannah toward the couch. Emma stuck her head in from the kitchen, but Kathy waved her away. When they were alone, Kathy turned to Roy. “While I was in the mill today, this young man Peter—the one from the hospital—came out and talked with Hannah. He apparently works there. I thought you should be told.”

Roy looked up. His face looked unreadable to Hannah.

“What did he have to say?”

“Well, he had his sports car parked there. I guess he told Hannah about it. He’s
rumspringa,
of course.”

“Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

Hannah held her breath as her dad turned toward her.

“Hannah, we can’t keep you away from boys forever. I had just wished it wouldn’t be this quick. You are still very young. Then there is the matter of which boys. Sweet talkers like Peter are not who they seem. They come and go as the wind. They leave a lot of broken hearts. Good men are made through the trials of life. I guess I hoped you’d pick that kind of boy someday.”

Hannah looked at the floor. She had expected an outburst for sure. And how did her dad know about the sweet talk thing?

Her dad continued, “I realize that
rumspringa
is perhaps coming up—even for you. I guess we can’t keep you from that either, although I don’t like it at all.”

“You can’t forbid her,” Kathy interrupted him.

“I know,” Roy told her. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

Now Kathy sounded surprised. “What have you been thinking?”

“I’ll tell you some other time,” he said. “Not right now, though. Let’s let Hannah go to bed. I think it’s our bedtime, isn’t it? We’ll talk about it later perhaps.”

With that, Hannah left for her bedroom. She pulled up the window and breathed in deeply the night air. It was too late to see any sunsets but not too late to think about Peter and the day’s events, and what her dad had said. Had he ever felt how she felt? Could men feel that way? She was sure Peter could. Very sure.

Dreamily she stood by the window and remembered. The night sounds filled her ears, and the thoughts of the day filled her heart.
I told him he couldn’t come, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if he did?

“Peter,” she whispered his name. What would it be like to go out with him on Saturday night? She wasn’t sure how that would be, but it might be good to find out. She might like it.

What will I do if he does come to the window?
She didn’t know the answer. As she stood there breathing in the night air, she shivered—not because she was cold but because of her thoughts of Peter.

Six

Isaac sat between Hannah and Miriam and drove the buggy even though he was the youngest. It was a male thing, Hannah was sure. Isaac would probably fall out of the buggy in embarrassment if they were to pull up to the Sunday evening hymn sing in front of his friends with one of his sisters driving.

Hannah wished it was Peter driving the buggy—just the two of them, of course. She could imagine the feeling of how his words would wrap around her with comfort and strength. He wouldn’t have to act all grown up like Isaac—who claimed the buggy lines so fiercely—because he was comfortable being himself.

“Expecting someone to ask you out?” Miriam teased.

Hannah blushed and shook her head. She knew Peter would never ask her out in the Amish way. He was into
rumspringa
and would hardly consider a visit to their calm Sunday night hymn sings worth his time. A bedroom window escape was Peter’s real idea of a night out.

“I think Hannah’s daydreaming about a boy,” Miriam said in fun.

Hannah remained silent, used to her siblings teasing her.

“Sam’s got his eye on her.” Isaac slapped the reins and laughed. “But I haven’t seen him around since Hannah’s accident. Probably a good idea. That will keep the hospital bills down.”

“You didn’t see him, then,” Hannah snapped.

Isaac kept his eyes straight ahead, but Hannah still heard his chuckle.

“We shouldn’t be too hard on her,” Miriam said. “She’s had a rough time.”

“With Sam, I would say so.” Isaac gave up any pretense and laughed loudly.

“You’re awful.” Hannah made a face at him and then relented and grinned at the thought. What Isaac said was true, and if she wasn’t careful, they would find out about Peter, and then there would be no end to the teasing.

“At least she still has a sense of humor,” Miriam said as Isaac pulled into the driveway. He stopped at the end of the walk to drop his sisters off and barely waited till they were clear of the buggy before he took off. Hannah gathered her shawl quickly to keep it away from the wheel. The boy would learn the hard way to pay attention to how he drove.

Now if Peter had been driving—the thought brought a smile to her face—he would have waited till she was at the walk before he pulled the buggy away. She knew he would because he was Peter.

The smile on her face prompted Miriam to ask again, “You sure no one is taking you home?”

Hannah shook her head and kept her eyes on the sidewalk. Miriam would probably understand, since she occasionally dated. Yet Peter seemed such a sacred subject, one best left unmentioned for now.

They walked into the washroom and left their bonnets and shawls there. The girls then gathered in the kitchen, exchanging nods with a few others. As if by an unstated ritual, two of the oldest girls started to move toward the living room. The other girls lined up single file, followed the two leaders into the room, and took their seats on the benches. As Hannah sat down, she noticed right away that Sam was staring at her from across the room. She had felt his eyes on her from the time she stepped into the living room. As far as she was concerned, it was an entirely useless expenditure of his efforts.

Hannah was sure that a few of the girls had noticed his stare. She saw Annie glance in Sam’s direction, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off of Hannah. Did the boy think he could stare all evening? Why didn’t he go for someone who liked him? She thought she knew the answer and didn’t like it.
Perhaps it’s because I’m better looking or maybe my ability to just get up and get going quickly after an accident. He probably thinks I’ll make a good farmhand for that place his father will leave him.

Hannah realized her face had turned into a look of disgust and caught herself in time. A look of disgust at the hymn sing was not exactly a welcome expression. Hannah relaxed her face and kept her eyes on the songbook page.
What an impossible boy.

By nine o’clock the hymn sing was finished and the talk began, cut short at times when a girl had to leave to catch either her brother’s or her boyfriend’s buggy. Hannah kept a watch on Isaac, who sat in the back row with the younger boys. He was deep into conversation with his cousin and seemed to have plans to stay for a while yet. She turned to talk with Naomi Zook to pass the time.

When Miriam stood to leave, Hannah cut short her conversation and followed. On the way out, Hannah caught herself thinking that if this were Peter ahead of her, how wonderful the world would be.

In the washroom, Hannah found her bonnet and shawl. It occurred to her that maybe Sam had similar thoughts about her as he made his way to his buggy. What a strange world—and so mixed up—she thought as she pulled her bonnet strings tight.

At the end of the walkway, Isaac was parked with the buggy wheels turned away from the step. Perhaps he had visions of a girlfriend walking lightly down the walk toward him.

“He’s got the wheels turned,” Hannah whispered to Miriam.

Miriam laughed. “There is hope for him if he doesn’t run us over before he learns.”

Both girls climbed in, and Isaac burst out with the news almost before they took their seats, “Ernest Byler just took Betsy home tonight.”

“I don’t believe it,” Miriam said in astonishment. “He’s going on thirty or so.”

“Well, it’s true. I saw it with my own eyes. Betsy walked right by her brother’s buggy and climbed into Ernest’s. They must have had it planned like that—to try to sneak it by everyone.”

“She’s got to be close to thirty too,” Hannah mused. “Who would have thought it? I didn’t think either of them would ever get married.”

“I guess the leftovers take the leftovers,” Isaac proposed as an answer. “Everyone needs someone.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” Miriam said. “Maybe they just waited for each other.”

“It could be,” he answered.

“I see you had the wheels turned for us.” Miriam smiled at Isaac, her face faintly visible in the darkness of the buggy.

“Well…” Isaac seemed embarrassed.

“That’s okay,” Miriam said, patting his arm.

“You’re not saying anything,” Isaac said, turning in Hannah’s direction.

“Just listening,” she said. “After you ran us over, I thought that was nice. Thinking of some other girl perhaps?”

Isaac made a face at her.

“You shouldn’t have any problem finding a girl,” she said.

“Don’t torment me,” Isaac replied, groaning, and both sisters laughed.

“See,” he said and slapped the reins, “it seems like you either get no one or you get too many. No one’s my problem.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Miriam told Hannah. “He just wants you to feel sorry for him. He’s got all the chances a decent boy should have. He’s too young to make up his mind yet—which is good I suppose. That shows maturity.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and slapped the reins again.

A few evenings later, Hannah stood by her upstairs bedroom window. The air, filled with the warmth of the late spring day, stirred in gentle ripples around her. The days were glorious and numbered, and she readily received the joy they gave. Each moment made her feel more alive than the last one.

On the flat northern Indiana horizon, the faint bubble of the full moon rose and soon would cast its deep glow across the sky. It would be another hour before the moon grew fully visible, but already Hannah could see low hanging clouds accented against the branches of the old tree that leaned over the house roof.

The thought of Peter came, adding even more fragrance to the scene. Would he actually ever come, climb up the tree, and drop from the branches? What would she do if he did?

She shivered and pulled the window shut. It slid softly in that way new windows in new houses do. As she turned the latch, Hannah paused. An object had struck the wall and rattled down the siding. Next she heard a ping on the window glass. Slowly she opened the window again. She saw nothing. Her eyes searched, but no form became visible by the tree or anywhere else in the open. Hannah glanced down the fencerow toward the road but saw nothing there either. Out by the barn, their dog, Shep, barked sharply. She almost told him to be quiet, but her voice would attract more attention. His bark was already bad enough.

Surely,
she thought,
Peter’s not coming. After all, it has been quite a while since I’ve seen him in town, and even then I warned him not to come.

But if he did, would he know about the dog? That problem hadn’t occurred to her. Shep barked louder, his bark urgent and aggressive.

Oh, I can’t believe I am even thinking about this. I don’t want him to come. I don’t want him to come.
She chanted the thought to herself but couldn’t move herself away from the window. If Peter was out there, she wanted to see him. Surely he would be smart enough to avoid the dog. He was Peter, after all.

Hannah listened while the bark moved from the back of the barn to the front and then stopped. The silence was followed by a few short yaps. Nothing more happened. On the horizon the moon had slipped upward until it cleared the tree line. The warm glow of the moonlight revealed no signs of movement. She listened for long moments and then knew it was time to get to bed. Peter or no Peter, the morning would come quickly enough. Slowly she closed the window.

But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. Even in bed with the covers tight under her chin, they toyed with her mind. What had the noise been? Would Shep bark over nothing? What if it was Peter, and he got chased away? Now he’d never come back. But what if he did actually come to the window? Would she let him in? Hannah shivered again.
I can’t think like this! Stop it. Stop it. It’s so wrong, and I have to be a good girl.