After a while, Hannah said, "I heard Papa and Mama talking last night. Mama told Papa she thinks John Larkin is fond of me."
To my annoyance, a little smile danced across her face. "I'm fond of John too," she admitted, "but Papa--"
Hannah bit her lip and frowned. "Papa said a girl with my notions will never find a husband. He told Mama I'd end up an old-maid suffragette. Those were his very words, Andrew."
Forgetting everything except making her happy, I said, "No matter what Papa thinks, you'll marry John. What's more, women will get the vote and drive cars and do everything men do, even wear trousers and run for president."
Hannah sucked in her breath. "The way you talk, Andrew. I could swear you've been looking in a crystal ball."
Clapping my hand over my mouth, I stared at her. Whatever had made me say so much? I didn't even want to think about her marrying John, and here I'd gone and told her she would, as well as revealing a bunch of other stuff she shouldn't know.
"Do you see anything else in my future?" Hannah was leaning toward me, her face inches from mine, gazing into my eyes, her lips slightly parted. "Will John and I be happy? Will we have lots of children? Will we live a long, long time?"
I tightened my grip on the branch. I was drowning, losing my identity, speaking words that made no sense. "You'll be old when I'm young," I whispered, "but I'll remember, I'll never forget, I'll always love--"
"What are you talking about?" Hannah reached out and grabbed my shoulders. "Are you all right?"
For a moment, I was too dizzy to answer. I wasn't sure who I was or where I was or what we'd been talking about. Feeling sick, I clung to the tree. Gradually, things came back into focus, the world steadied. Birds sang, leaves rustled, the branches swayed slightly. The strength in Hannah's hands calmed me.
I took a few deep breaths and managed to smile. Hannah relaxed, but she was obviously still worried. "Will you ever be yourself again, Andrew?"
"I hope so." I said it so fervently Hannah looked at me oddly. If only I could tell her the truth. She'd understand everything then. But would she believe me?
Hannah sighed and wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her hand. "I reckon the heat's enough to give anybody the fantods." She smiled at me. "Come on, Andrew, I'll race you to the pump for a drink.
To my annoyance, a little smile danced across her face. "I'm fond of John too," she admitted, "but Papa--"
Hannah bit her lip and frowned. "Papa said a girl with my notions will never find a husband. He told Mama I'd end up an old-maid suffragette. Those were his very words, Andrew."
Forgetting everything except making her happy, I said, "No matter what Papa thinks, you'll marry John. What's more, women will get the vote and drive cars and do everything men do, even wear trousers and run for president."
Hannah sucked in her breath. "The way you talk, Andrew. I could swear you've been looking in a crystal ball."
Clapping my hand over my mouth, I stared at her. Whatever had made me say so much? I didn't even want to think about her marrying John, and here I'd gone and told her she would, as well as revealing a bunch of other stuff she shouldn't know.
"Do you see anything else in my future?" Hannah was leaning toward me, her face inches from mine, gazing into my eyes, her lips slightly parted. "Will John and I be happy? Will we have lots of children? Will we live a long, long time?"
I tightened my grip on the branch. I was drowning, losing my identity, speaking words that made no sense. "You'll be old when I'm young," I whispered, "but I'll remember, I'll never forget, I'll always love--"
"What are you talking about?" Hannah reached out and grabbed my shoulders. "Are you all right?"
For a moment, I was too dizzy to answer. I wasn't sure who I was or where I was or what we'd been talking about. Feeling sick, I clung to the tree. Gradually, things came back into focus, the world steadied. Birds sang, leaves rustled, the branches swayed slightly. The strength in Hannah's hands calmed me.
I took a few deep breaths and managed to smile. Hannah relaxed, but she was obviously still worried. "Will you ever be yourself again, Andrew?"
"I hope so." I said it so fervently Hannah looked at me oddly. If only I could tell her the truth. She'd understand everything then. But would she believe me?
Hannah sighed and wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her hand. "I reckon the heat's enough to give anybody the fantods." She smiled at me. "Come on, Andrew, I'll race you to the pump for a drink.
( Mary Downing Hahn )
[ Time for Andrew: A Ghost Story ]
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