by Jim Lombardo
“You...you do know what engaged means, Hannah? It means I’m going to get marr—”
“I know exactly what engaged means, Andy,” Hannah snapped back sourly. “I’m up to G in the Encyclopedia Britannica. So who’s the lucky girl?”
“Uhh…her name is Cindy,” Andy answered, looking quizzical. “We were...high school sweethearts,” he said, trying to sound upbeat in an attempt to rescue the conversation.
“How lovely,” Hannah said bitingly. “So, I guess we have our article together, and that’s it. A wonderful…business relationship. Well, I mean, this is only our fifteenth column together,” she continued sarcastically, “so we’ve really just met one another. Fine, then, let’s get busy and make some more money, since that’s what this is all about.”
Although Andy remained still, his eyes darted around as he mentally scrambled for a way to process the preposterous. He was not the smartest person at the table, but he was the most surprised. He reached over and pressed the pause button on the recorder, moving deliberately to buy himself some time to think before endeavoring to respond. “I’m sorry, Hannah, but...were you thinking...I mean, did you actually think that...but—”
“Please spare me the gobbledygook, Andy. I get it. I’m two. And that means I can’t be taken seriously with matters of the heart. I’m just a baby after all, right?” She then began imitating a wailing infant, crying “Wahhhhhh!” derisively until her mother called in from the other room.
“Everything okay in there? Andy, was it black with two sugars?”
“Ah, yes, thanks, Monica. All good in here,” Andy called back, before turning to the child, and speaking in a hushed tone. “Hannah, look, you’re very sweet, and...and a brilliant girl. And, who knows, maybe if we had met each other in high school—”
“Don’t patronize me, Andy,” Hannah scolded him. “Besides, I’m already in high school based on my coursework. You know, this is the same story as my mommy not letting me take a bath alone. Can a midget take a bath alone? Yes. Can I? No. And why is that? It’s called age discrimination, and I live it every…single…day, Mr. Pereira. People treat me like I was born yesterday. May I remind you it was more than two years ago?”
Andy tried as hard as he could to stifle even the hint of a smile, which he knew would be devastating to the child. Making matters even trickier for him, he noticed that while Hannah was presenting her case, she was being undermined by a Rice Krispie that was stuck to the bottom of her chin. He faked a cough to suppress the urge to burst out laughing and curb his sense of the absurd, and then proceeded with delicate diplomacy.
“Well, I mean, what can I say, Hannah? You know you’re a gem to me. But, the fact is that I’m in love with Cindy. So you and I, we can only be friends.”
Andy waited for a reply, but she simply glared at him without responding. He continued. “And if you really care about me, then be happy for me. Another thing, I chatted with Cindy about this, and we’d like to ask you to be the flower girl at our wedding. Do you know what that is?”
Hannah’s sullen expression softened, along with her attitude. “Yes, of course I know what a flower girl is. Like I said, I’m up to the letter G in the Encyclopedia Britannica.”
“Good. That means you probably also know what a gem is,” Andy said winking at her.
“Yes, I do,” she said with a rosy blush appearing on her cheeks. “Umm...can you back up the recorder to the beginning, please? Let’s start over, Andy.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wondergirl
The Hannah Herald - No. XV
By Andy Pereira
Greetings Worldwide Readers,
It has been another exciting month for Hannah Blake. As of this writing, Earth’s wondrous whiz-kid has just turned two years old. As usual, this column will bring you up to date on her life, developmental milestones and achievements, as well as her innermost thoughts and feelings.
When I first arrive for my visit today, Hannah is having a hard time separating herself from her new online book reader “The Wordy,” gifted to her by Hi-Tech. She is just finishing Harper Lee’s, To Kill a Mockingbird. The Wordy has solved the difficulty Hannah was having of not being able to physically turn the pages of books fast enough to keep up with her reading speed. She now scrolls along the monitor using a mouse, at a scorching pace of about one page every 5-10 seconds. If she wants, she can take advantage of The Wordy’s new automatic scroll feature, which allows a reader to set the pace and then simply sit back and enjoy the world of books. Incredibly, she can recall anything she has read word for word. Later, I will test her using The Wordy myself by asking her to recite page 89 of her book, which I select at random, and she repeats it flawlessly. Hi-Tech has offered Hannah unlimited free access to its complete library of over one million books, and for the past few weeks she has been reading several each day. These have included such classics as Anne of Green Gables, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and The Old Man and the Sea. She also tells me that she is up to the letter G of the Encyclopedia Britannica series.
Hannah and I sit down at the dining room table and we chat at length. I update Hannah on one of her best friends, who just happens to be my mother Pamela, and we are then ready to delve once again into her remarkable life. Although it’s hard to imagine using the word typical when it comes to our congenial genius, I ask her the following question: “What’s a typical day like for you these days?” And with that, we’re off at a dizzying pace.
“Busy. But actually, Andy, to describe what you call a day, I guess I’d have to start at twelve o’clock midnight because as you know, my day doesn’t begin with waking up from a sleep cycle as people ordinarily do, as I’ve never fallen asleep. A couple of weeks ago, they tested me and the doctors found that different parts of my brain take turns resting so that I’m always conscious. But they said not to worry because the same is true of whales and dolphins. Isn’t it interesting that humans have synchronized their sleep and wake cycles according to the Earth gyrating on its axis every 24 hours? The sun rises and people get up to start their day, and then they usually go to bed anywhere from 6 to 10 hours before they have to wake up again, because the sun will be rising again. They are setting their schedule, and arranging their lives according to the movements of the Earth and Sun. That’s amazing. Suppose a huge asteroid flew by us, so close that it gravitationally pulled on the Earth, causing its rotation to speed up or slow down significantly. What would happen to how we live? Imagine if beginning tomorrow, everything was the same, except the sun rose only once every 34 hours? How about if it suddenly began rising and setting every 9 hours? Or, what if the Earth stopped spinning completely? The implications of that are fascinating to consider, but…” (Hannah pauses and looks off into the distance, deep in thought) “that could be a serious problem for us. Hmmmm. But I digress.” (Hannah returns to a warm smile.)
“So I’m awake all night while my parents are sleeping. But I keep busy with my nannies and tutors during that time. Along with my teaching generalists, we’ve been hiring specialists for particular subjects, like one for math because I’m at high school level now. I feel sorry that I’m keeping people up when they should be asleep, but it’s productive. When my eyes get tired, I close them, but that’s no reason to stop improving myself. I use that time to review and arrange all of my new information. I also keep busy with my hobbies.”
“In the morning, when my parents finally wake up, we eat breakfast together. My favorite is Rice Krispies. Did you know that the oldest Rice Krispies elf brother is Snap who was created in 1933? Crackle & Pop didn’t come along until 1941. Not many people know this, but there was a short-lived fourth elf named Pow introduced in the 1950s, who quickly got the ax. That was probably a wise move. I mean, they already had Snap, Crackle, and Pop. Did people really need Pow? It’s a lively cereal, Kellogg’s. We get the picture. But not only that. These marketing geniuses had Pow arrive from outer space, mounted on t
op of a flying saucer. And they made him completely silent. Instead of talking, he just pointed at things. Pow was short for Power, the power of whole grain rice, so he had these huge muscles. Even amongst elves, Pow was a freak. Imagine you have these three adorable little elf brothers with this delightful gig, toasting up rice, and cheerfully serving you a bowl of cereal. Then suddenly this alien musclehead elf shows up out of nowhere riding a hovercraft. He plops himself down on the breakfast table and without saying a word, starts pointing at things. Seems like it would spoil the mood. Pow was a bad idea.” (Hannah stops talking here, and appears to be thinking to herself for about five seconds before adding) “Just so you know, I’m still trying to learn the difference between information that’s important for people to know, and meaningless trivia. I guess I want to know everything.”
(Note to reader: I cannot get a word in edgewise as Hannah continues on at a frenetic pace.)
“I’ve been seeing my child psychologist, Judy, a bit more these days. Usually a few times a week, to make sure I have my head on straight, so to speak. The way I see it, I have my tutors to help me learn about academic subjects like science, language, history, and so forth, and then I have Judy to help me learn about the subject of me. She’s concerned about my happiness. Although, I’m concerned about her happiness too. I’ve noticed that she doesn’t want to talk about herself, and I understand why that is, but I wonder if there’s extra stress put on her by being my psychologist. It bothers me that she’s come to know my parents and me so well, yet I don’t really know much about her, and her life at all. I just hope she’s okay. Maybe someday she won’t be my psychologist anymore, and we can just be friends.”
“My parents try to get me out of the house every couple of days to get some fresh air and see new things, but it’s hard because so many people want to meet me, take pictures, and get my autograph. I’m flattered, but sometimes I wish I was just a regular kid. Then I could go to the mall or the movies, without people surrounding me with cameras. I wonder if I wouldn’t be better off pretending to have the intellect of an average two-year-old, you know, crying for my mother and spilling Cheerios on my bib. Actually, if that’s the choice, I’ll stick with the cameras, thank you.”
I interject. “I’d go with that too, Hannah. Now, you mentioned hobbies. What kind of hobbies have you been busy with lately?”
“Well, for one, I’ve taken up painting. I probably should call it tracing, because I can see the image on the canvas in my mind’s eye. But I love experimenting with mixing the paints to get the proper shade of color I want. I learned that the human eye is made up of 120 million photoreceptors called rods and cones, and can see 7 million different colors. So whenever you’re sad, stop and consider these incredible gifts you own. Nature is trying exceptionally hard to help you out. Take a look at the color zaffre when you get a chance, and it will pick you right up. There’s a condition called tetrachromacy where a person can have an extra type of cone cell in the retina and can see 100 million different colors. In people, tetrachromatic vision is only possible in women for some genetic reason. But do try to keep up gentlemen. Some insects use this specialized vision to help them find nectar in colorful flowers. Isn’t that neat? Did you know that when you see a color, like a red apple, it isn’t really red? It’s just that all the other colors in the spectrum of light are being absorbed by the apple, and red is being reflected back. So in a way, the apple is every color except red.”
I add, “I never knew that, Hannah. So, I think our readers would love to hear what you think the future holds for you right now. What do you foresee?”
“As clever as I am, I still can’t predict the future, Andy. Not yet, anyway. But for my job, I still plan on ruling the world. (Hannah flashes me a mini grin.) If that doesn’t work out, then I might be a teacher, like my mommy.”
My last question for Hannah Blake. “Can you end this column with some final words of advice for our readers from the smartest little girl in the world?”
Hannah rapidly responds, “Actually, the smartest person to give you advice isn’t me, it’s the person you see in the mirror.”
Ask Hannah Forum
Thank you, readers, for all your Forum submissions. Here are the two questions we chose for this month, which I presented to Hannah:
Question #1: Hannah, can you please settle an argument I’m having with my brother? Pretend you’re on a game show, and you’re free to choose any one of three doors. The host tells you that behind two doors are goats, and behind one door is a brand-new car. The host tells you to choose a door, and you pick door #1. At this point, your odds of winning the car are one in three, obviously. The host then says, “Just so you’re aware, it’s a good thing you didn’t select door #3, because it was a booby prize!” Door #3 is then opened, and there stands a goat chewing on straw. There are now two closed doors left, one has the car behind it, and one has the other goat. The host then offers you the option of changing your selection from door #1 to door #2. Should you stick with door #1? Or should you now switch to door #2? Does changing doors matter?
*See end of column for Hannah’s answer.
Question #2: Since you never sleep, have you never had a dream?
Hannah: “I can daydream about things while awake, but I’ve never experienced what others have told me about dreaming. This seems so strange to me, that a person who is unconscious could imagine a story played out before them that is not under their direct conscious control, and that they believe is reality while they are having it. I wish I would have a dream, just for the fun of it. But at least I don’t have any nightmares. Perhaps the closest thing to dreaming for me is when I’m having my brain realignment episodes, which happen randomly about every couple of weeks. It always begins with this purple aura around me right before onset, and then while I’m under, I see an extremely bright light, and there’s that same sound like when you finish a drink with a straw. The sound you’re not supposed to make because it’s rude. But that’s the sound I hear. I don’t control the vision or the sound, so maybe that part is a dream. The brain itself is quite a mystery, but I wonder if dreams have the same purpose for people that my realignments do for me. That is, a chance for your brain to somehow sort things out, recalibrate, both intellectually and emotionally. You know how you have to power down and reboot your computer to get new software and patches to kick in? I think these processes help prepare the brain for the next chapter of wakeful consciousness. So always get plenty of sleep. And sweet dreams!”
NOTE: Please submit your “Ask Hannah Forum” questions to me at: [email protected]
If chosen, your question and Hannah’s response will appear in a future column.
Answer to Question 1 from Hannah Forum:
I’ve seen this stumper before, from a famous writer named Marilyn vos Savant who has one of the highest I.Q.’s ever recorded, even higher than Albert Einstein’s. The answer to your question is, yes. It does matter if you switch doors. The odds of you winning the car by sticking with door #1 are still one in three. But, the odds of the car being behind door #2 are now twice as likely as door #1, or two out of three. You should switch to door #2. Because when the host knowingly revealed that door #3 had a goat, he tacked the original odds of a car behind door #3 onto door #2. But may I just add that I disagree with the host’s insinuation that a goat is somehow a booby prize. I would actually like to win a goat.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Premonition (2.25 years old)
Monica awoke and rolled over, expecting to see her daughter’s two piercing eyes meeting hers. Every day started the same way. The toddler would creep into her parents’ bedroom at exactly 5:30 and wait patiently by Monica’s side of the bed for her to wake up. Hannah was always considerate about keeping the noise level down throughout the night, so her mother and father could get their sleep. But after the sun came up, she would be excited about the new day, and often couldn’t wait to share the things
she had learned or thought about over the course of the night. Monica always slept on her right side facing her husband. In the morning, she would turn over, and without fail, Hannah would be standing there, bushy-tailed and at attention, like a holiday nutcracker at the ready, with an announcement of some sort.
Monday: “Mommy! You are not…going….to believe this. The Pygmy Marmoset is the smallest monkey in the world. It’s only six inches tall and weighs four ounces. That is so much smaller than dogs and cats…which many parents let their children own. Hint, hint.”
Tuesday: “Mommy. Thank goodness you’re up.” Hannah sounded extremely relieved. “I just had to tell you...houseflies always hum in the key of F. I kid you not.”
Wednesday: “Just in case you’re unaware...never drink from an athletic cup.”
Thursday: “Mommy, every atom in your body is billions of years old. It’s a fact.”
Monica replied with just one sleepy, half-opened eye, “Feels it.”
Friday: “Woah, Mommy. I was reading about how a baby is made. Please tell me you and Daddy didn’t actually do that.”
“You know, Hannah, I can put more parental controls on the PC if you want,” Monica said flatly before burying her head in her pillow.
Saturday: “I want a pet monkey. I want a pet monkey. How’s that for a hint? I want a pet monkey. I want a pet monkey.”
“STOP with the damn monkey, Hannah,” growled Brian. “Let us sleep!”
But on this particular morning, there was no sign of Hannah in her parents’ room. The house was eerily quiet. The nightshift nanny and tutors must have left by now, Monica thought, as she lay under the covers listening to the muffled drone of cars speeding by the apartment. There was no concern about the child’s so-called realignment episodes anymore, as she had learned to safely control the process. Whenever Hannah became aware of the purplish light around her, she had a few moments to find a measure of safety by lying down, preferably on a bed or couch, and to make sure she didn’t have any food or drink in her mouth. She would soon regain normal waking consciousness, and simply return to whatever she was doing.
