Hannah's Journey (6 page)

“Look,” shouted several voices in unison.

The low hanging clouds had melded into one funnel and a roaring sound filled the air.

Tom Valentine was the first to identify it. “Tornado!” he yelled, pointing to the Southwest.

Mothers clasped small children tightly and fathers leaned over their families to shield them from the brunt of the gusting winds. Suddenly, the funnel hit a nearby tree sending a large branch crashing through the roof and driving a hole through the floor of the pavilion. The air filled with dust particles and other debris making it difficult to see. Hannah and Caroline clutched each other’s hand and held onto the rope.

Cold rain soaked those huddled in the pavilion. Twisting and turning, the tornado spun off toward the sparsely populated outskirts of town.

Hannah opened her eyes and saw Uncle David slumped on the floor with Aunt Margaret kneeling beside him. The rope had come untwined. Amid the cries and calls, Hannah heard a voice that seemed to come from somewhere below her. Looking around, the girl could spot only chaos. People milled about, calling to family and friends. Seeing Uncle David’s eyelids flutter open, and his attempt to sit up, Hannah pushed Caroline toward Aunt Margaret. She knew she must try to get to whoever seemed in trouble.

“Stay right here, Caroline, and help your mother. Your father seems all right.”

The child’s eyes seemed huge in her pale face. “Where are you going, Hannah? Please don’t leave me.”

“Someone’s hurt and I have to help. Stay close to your mother and father. I’ll come back soon,” Hannah promised the frightened little girl. Caroline nodded and clung to her mother’s skirt.

Hannah listened again, trying to hear any further calls for help. It puzzled her that the cry had come from beneath the pavilion.

Then, the weak plea came again. “Help! Somebody please help me. I’m hurt.”

Hannah rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her sight. The dust stirred up by the tornado still hung in the air. Looking around, she saw the damage that had been done to the floor. Hannah realized that the person who called for help had fallen through the hole.

“I’m coming,” called Hannah. “Just hold on.”

Crawling toward the hole, Hannah realized her leg brace hampered her. Leaning down, she unclasped the brace, leaving it behind, and pulled herself toward the opening. The hole was small and surrounded by broken, jagged boards. Looking around once more, Hannah could see no one close by. People hurried away from the destruction left by the tornado. Aunt Margaret had led Uncle David and Caroline from the pavilion. She dabbed her husband’s forehead with her handkerchief.

Taking a deep breath, Hannah lowered herself into the darkness below the pavilion. Her legs swung in the air. She wondered how far the ground lay below her. The voice came again, much weaker this time. “Please help me. I’m so afraid.”

Gritting her teeth, Hannah let go and fell several feet before landing on the hard packed earth. Wincing in pain, she knew she had injured her ankle. Propping herself up on her elbow, Hannah called out, “Where are you?” She tried to peer into the murky surroundings, listening carefully, but got no answer this time.

“I’ve come to help. Can you tell me where you are?” When only silence greeted her, Hannah chose a direction and crawled on her hands and knees, trying to forget the throbbing pain in her ankle. Within minutes, she encountered a pile of debris. Feeling her way, she touched the pile of wood, careful not to grab the nails she knew must be sticking out from the boards. She found an arm. Frightened, she drew back her hand.

Catching her breath, she reached out again, trying to decide if the person lay pinned under the boards. Yes! Only one arm and a leg seemed free.

“Who are you? She whispered. “Where does it hurt?”

Oh, Papa, I wish you could tell me what to do. Please help me.
At that moment, Hannah felt sure she heard her father’s voice saying, “Lift the boards, daughter. You can do it.”

Hannah rose to her knees, ignoring the pain. Using all her strength, she removed the boards, one by one, until she freed the person beneath. Still no movement. Hannah leaned toward the still figure and touched the head. Her hand closed around a heavy braid. Sliding down, she felt the ends tied with twine. She knew at last who lay buried below the rubble. Rosie!

CHAPTER EIGHT – RESCUED

Frantic, Hannah patted Rosie’s cheek. In the murky gloom she could see the girl’s face, still and pale, her cheeks cold to the touch.

“Wake up, Rosie! Please open your eyes,” Hannah begged, but the still form lay unresponsive. How could she get them out of here? Taking off her pinafore, Hannah covered Rosie. It wasn’t much, but maybe it might supply a little warmth from the damp earth.

Looking around, she spotted a piece of broken wood. Pulling herself up, she used the wood for a makeshift crutch and hobbled over to the opening where Rosie had fallen through. The missing pavilion roof allowed a shaft of light to penetrate the gloom, and a soft drizzle of rain fell on her upturned face. She shivered from the cold and wet.

“Help us, please. We’re down here under the floor.” Stopping to take a breath, Hannah heard a familiar voice.

“Hannah, is that you? It’s Uncle David. Are you all right?” Through the small hole, Hannah saw Uncle David’s worried face, already bruising.

“Yes, Uncle David, it’s me. I’m so glad you’re all right. I’ve found Rosie, but she’s hurt. Can you help us out?”

“Yes. Just hold on Hannah. We’ll have you both out in no time.”

Hannah eased herself into a sitting position and looked over at Rosie. The girl had not moved, but her chest rose and fell as she breathed.

True to his word, David Logan appeared moments later, and called out. “Hannah, I’ve got Tom Valentine with me. He’s going to try to get down there and lift you both, but he’ll have to widen the hole. I want you to stand back and cover your head.”

Hannah moved toward Rosie and did as Uncle David instructed. Soon, she heard pounding on the floor above her. Chips of wood fell to the earth nearby, and the light grew stronger as the hole enlarged.

A piece of the flooring fell to the ground beside her and in a moment a soft thud announced the arrival of Tom Valentine, who landed on his feet and grinned at Hannah.

Sweeping his arms wide and making a theatrical bow, he declared, “At your service, ma’am.”

Hannah’s lips trembled but she smiled and said, “Please help Rosie. I think she’s hurt pretty bad.”

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll lift Rosie up through the hole to Mr. Logan, then you’re next to go. Is that all right with you?” Tom spoke gently to the girl.

“How will you get her up?”

“Well,” he said, looking around. “I’ll pile some of this lumber up and stand on it, then hand her up to your uncle. Think I can do it?”

Hannah agreed, and watched Tom gather the boards and fashion a makeshift platform.

Lifting Rosie with care, Tom handed her up to David Logan, who leaned precariously over the hole in the floor. David, with the extra weight of Rosie in his arms, turned to leave the pavilion. Just as he cleared the hole, a cracking sound ensued and the weakened floor once again gave way.

Too late, Hannah looked up as the whole section fell. Tom, knocked from his perch, rolled to safety, unable to reach Hannah.

“Tom, are you both all right?” David Logan cried.

“I’m fine, sir, but I’m afraid the boards hit Hannah. I think she’s unconscious.”

* * * *

Above, David laid Rosie on the grass with Margaret and Caroline watching over her. Hurrying back, he picked up the rope, tying himself again to one of the posts that still stood. Leaning over, he looked into the now enlarged hole and saw young Valentine lifting the boards from Hannah. Her face, smudged with dirt, had a small cut on her left cheek, and her lashes lay across pale cheeks.

“Is she all right, Tom?”

“I don’t know, sir, but I think we need to get her to the hospital and let them check.”

“Right. Hand her to me and I’ll take both girls. The horses are still jumpy, but the carriage seems to have escaped damage.”

“Just let me pick her up, Mr. Logan,” Tom said. As he did, she moaned.

“You’re all right, Hannah. Just rest and let us take care of you.”

Handing Hannah to her uncle, Tom pulled himself up. Then, each carrying a child, they hurried away from the storm-damaged area. Placing the unconscious girls in the carriage, David turned to the young man. “Can you take my wife and daughter, Tom? I’ll go ahead to the hospital with the girls.”

“I’ll be glad to.”

“Thank you. You’ve been a great help today.” He turned to his wife. “Tom will see that you and Caroline get to the hospital, Margaret. I’ll go ahead and you can follow.”

Margaret Logan nodded, casting a worried glance at the two girls. “Please drive carefully, David. We’ll come along shortly. I’d like to go home and check on Delia first.” Arriving at the town’s only hospital, David Logan drew the carriage as close to the doors as possible. The area, crowded with other tornado victims, looked chaotic. Leaving the carriage for a moment, David ran inside to the reception desk and asked if someone could help him. An orderly overheard and offered his assistance.

When Hannah and Rosie had been placed on stretchers and taken into examining rooms, David breathed a sigh of relief and waited for his family.

“Papa, we’re here,” Caroline called as she and her mother hurried into the hospital a little later. “We had Tom Valentine take us home first. Mama was worried, but Delia is all right. She’s cooking since I told her the food blew away.”

Relief washed over David. Caroline was apparently all right and had not suffered any ill effects from the traumas of the day.

“As you know, Delia thinks a hearty meal will fix anything,” said Margaret “I also sent Tom to get Rosie’s mother. I hope I did the right thing.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Margaret. I almost forgot how worried Mrs. Williams would be. Rosie must have come to the picnic with that group of school children.” As they talked, a young doctor came into the lobby and looked around. Approaching them, he asked, “Are you the parents of Hannah Monroe who came in with injuries from the tornado?”

David Logan stood and introduced himself and his family. “We are Hannah’s guardians.”

“Hello. I’m Doctor Layton. Hannah has a badly sprained ankle, a concussion, and a cut on her cheek as well as a few bruises. She’ll be fine, but I’d like to keep her a couple of days for observation if that’s all right with you.”

“Certainly, Doctor, whatever you think best.”

“Good. I’d like her to rest tonight, but do come back tomorrow and see her. Looks like you could use some rest yourself,” the doctor said nodding toward David’s forehead.

“Try putting some ice on that.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Margaret Logan. “Please give Hannah our love and tell her we’ll come tomorrow at visiting hours, and I’ll see that my husband has a quiet evening.”

CHAPTER NINE – NEWS OF A LOST FRIEND

Hannah’s eyes fluttered open.
Where am I
? Then, the events of yesterday came flooding back—church, the picnic, the tornado and finding Rosie. The pictures swirled around her mind as if driven by the force of the gale winds. She tried to sit up, but her head whirled. She eased back onto the pillows.

A familiar face appeared in the doorway. A pretty young woman dressed in a volunteer uniform stepped into the room. “Good morning, Hannah. How do you feel?”

“A little dizzy, but I think I’m all right.”

“Good. Do you remember me? We met a few weeks ago.”

Hannah thought for a moment. “Yes, I remember. You’re the piano lady.”

“That’s right, Sylvia Cooper. It’s good to see you again, though not as a patient.”

“Do you work here now?” Hannah asked.

“I volunteer occasionally when I’m not working at the tea room on weekends, and giving lessons during the week. The hospital called me in after the tornado hit. I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Is your family all right?”

“Yes, thank you.” Hannah shuddered, thinking of the Logans and how they escaped with their lives. Then she had another thought.

“Miss Cooper, could you find out about Rosie Williams? She got hurt during the tornado.”

Miss Cooper’s smile faded. “Rosie will be all right, Hannah, but she has quite a few injuries. It will take some time for her to heal. Is she a friend of yours?”

Hannah squirmed. “Well, sort of.”

Miss Cooper asked no more questions, but changed the subject. “Did you ever mention taking lessons to your parents?”

“No, Miss Cooper. I still want to learn to play, but the Logans aren’t my parents. I didn’t know if I should ask them or not. They’ve been very good to me. They took me from the Orphan Train to live with them and their daughter, Caroline. They’ve done so much for me, I felt that I couldn’t ask yet.”

“I understand, Hannah, and I’m sure you’ll find a way if you truly want to play. Now, why don’t you let me brush your hair? I understand your guardians will come to visit this morning.”

“I’m anxious to see them. I think Caroline’s probably worried about me. She thinks of me as her sister, and I feel the same way about her.”

“I’m sure the Logans care very much for you,” said Sylvia Cooper, as she picked up a brush from a little kit supplied by the hospital. Brushing Hannah’s long blond hair, she said, “I heard you were a real heroine yesterday, and that you saved Rosie Williams.”

Hannah blushed and denied that she did anything extraordinary. “Uncle David and Tom Valentine pulled her out. I just showed Tom where I found her.”

At that moment, Caroline’s voice sang out clearly in the hall. “Where are you, Hannah? We have presents for you.”

Hannah and Sylvia Cooper exchanged smiles.

Bursting into the room, Caroline held up an armful of gaily-wrapped packages. “Look what we have for you, Hannah!” the child demanded before spotting the young women at Hannah’s bedside.

Uncle David and Aunt Margaret followed Caroline in shaking their heads over the little girl’s noisy eagerness.