Joshua (Book 2): Traveler

by John S. Wilson

  Hannah tried not to but started crying again.

  Carol took the girl in her arms once more, “All right, I think maybe she’s had enough. Let’s not overdo it on the first day. We all have things to do.”

  The entire group said their good-byes and quickly left the two alone in the room.

  The older woman tried to comfort the younger one, “Are you going to be okay? Am I going to be worrying about you all of the time from now on?”

  Hannah stopped crying and wiped her eyes, “I’m sorry ... Danielle’s baby, he reminded me of another Nicholas I knew. He was killed too, I’m sorry.”

  “Why, for having feelings? You’ve been through a lot, Hannah. You are not a robot; you’re a person and people sometimes hurt. Don’t try to hold it inside. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me about it?”

  “No, I’m okay, now.”

  “All right ...,” Carol stood up from the bed. “I have to get supper started. Why don’t you take a nap. When you feel up to it come on out.”

  She left the girl alone there with her thoughts, Hannah spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon crying, trying not to think too much about all she had been through.

  Carol peeked in around four to tell her supper was ready but the girl said she wasn’t very hungry right then.

  Hannah could hear all of them through the door at the dinner table, laughing and talking like friends do.

  At near five in the afternoon, she finally got out of bed, sitting down in front of an antique vanity there by the window. Clearly it had been cherished for a very long time. Hannah picked up a tube of lipstick from a collection of makeup in a tray on top and examined it.

  Carol came back into the room and shut the door behind her, “You feeling better?” She pulled a chair from the other side and sat right next to the girl.

  “Yes ... a little bit. You’re going to keep bothering me until I talk, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, that’s the kind of person I am. My husband says I’m only really happy when I’m trying to fix someone else’s problems.”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m grateful for all you’ve done.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s hard to offend me. My husband is right. If I see someone with a problem I just have to try and fix it. And Hannah, you seem like a girl with a problem.” She pointed out the lipstick in the girl’s hand. “You wear much makeup?”

  “No.”

  “Never had a chance?”

  “I was thirteen when this happened. My parents, they just started to let me wear makeup, but only on special occasions. I got to wear some to dances a few times. They wouldn’t let me wear too much, though; Dad said ‘his little girl’ wasn’t going out looking like a ‘floozy.’”

  A smile quickly formed on Carol’s face, “Yeah, my dad said the same thing. I think all dads do.” She took the lipstick from Hannah and popped the top off, then handed it back to the girl. “That’s my favorite shade of red, it’s my husband’s favorite too. I use to wear it when I wanted to really drive him wild. I used to love getting dressed up, going out. Frank would open the door for me. Every once in a while, usually on our anniversary, he would even take me dancing. He doesn’t look like much of a dancer, does he?”

  They both laughed.

  “Well he’s not, but at least he tried, and I love him for that. I don’t wear makeup much anymore. There doesn’t seem to be a point to it. I will put some on occasionally, to make Frank happy. Or sometimes I just do it for myself ... to try to feel like I used to, when all of our worries were so small.”

  She took the tube back from Hannah and put the cap back on, and she placed it back on the table top right where it belonged. “This morning, when I asked you your name, first you called yourself James. Then you went out of your way to tell me you were a girl. You want to talk about that?”

  Hannah got up and sat down again on the edge of the bed, “I’ve been living as a boy, for a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Years.”

  Carol got up herself and sat down right next to the girl. “And you kind of forgot you were female?”

  Hannah laughed out loud, “Yes, I guess I did.”

  “Why were you doing that?”

  “It wasn’t my idea, my mom made me. She thought this world was too dangerous for a girl. She thought living like that would make me safer.”

  “Did it?”

  “I don’t know, I guess she was right, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I had to be me.”

  “Well, I’m glad you worked that out for yourself. I hope you don’t forget you’re a girl again. You’re not, are you?”

  Hannah laughed as she looked at the floor, “No.”

  Carol laughed too but then became a little more serious in her tone. “But that’s not the only thing bothering you. I know there’s something else you want to tell me. Something you’re afraid to tell me. Hannah, we’ve only known each other a few hours but I want you to know I’m your friend. I’ve been through a lot too, maybe not as much as you, but if you give me a chance I think I can help. Just talking about it would probably help. You can’t hold all of that junk inside you forever; sooner or later it will come out. So why not right now, when you have a friend that will listen.”

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  “No, Carol Avery doesn’t give up.”

  The girl continued to gaze at the floor and began finally confessing all those things she never wanted to admit to anyone. “I’m a thief. I steal from people, that’s how I’ve been surviving. Usually I would beg food from them. I’m an expert on how to make people feel guilty, how to make them give me what I need. Other times, if I had the chance, I would steal it too. I would rather steal than beg, anytime.”

  “You would rather steal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know ... I guess it’s because of how you feel when you’re begging, like you’re nothing. But when you stole and they didn’t see you, they didn’t know you, it was so much better that way. But ...”

  “But what?” Carol put her arm around the girl.

  “But lately I was with some men, they robbed people ... killed people.”

  “Did you kill people, Hannah?”

  “No, but I profited from it. A lot of people died so I could eat three times a day. So I could have a roof over my head. I’m guilty too.” The girl dropped her head in her hands and started crying again.

  Carol held her closer, “Do you believe in God, Hannah?”

  She lifted her head and turned to her new friend. “I do. I haven’t been acting like I do, but I do.”

  The woman pulled a medal of Saint Aloysius from her pocket and dropped it in the girl’s hands. “I thought you might. I’m glad you said you do. What I’m about to tell you, it might come off as crazy ... if you didn’t believe in God. Do you know how we found you?”

  “No.”

  “Frank went out on his late patrol last night. He didn’t see a thing and came back. When he was taking off his belt, he noticed his magazine pouch was gone, so he went out looking for it. He searched a while and found it on the ground, not five feet from you. He was sure you weren’t out there the first time he came through. Let me tell you something, Hannah, my husband has had that pouch for years. It’s got a spring steel clip on the back that locks it on your belt. He has never had a problem with it, but of all the nights, it breaks last night and falls off at just the right place for him to find you. He found you just in time, too; you couldn’t have survived a whole night out there in the cold. If he hadn’t found you right then, Jason would have found your body on his morning patrol. You know what I think, Hannah?”

  “No, what?”

  “I think it was no accident. I think God led my husband there to save you. I don’t believe in coincidences like that. I think God brought you to us, maybe so you could have another chance at life.”

  The girl wiped her eyes again but
couldn’t find much to say, “Maybe ... I don’t know.”

  “I’m just giving you something to think about,” Carol got back off the bed and walked towards the door. “I’ve saved you some food. Come on out and have some, I know you’ve got to be hungry by now. Then you can go back to bed if you want, or, you can come into the living room and talk to your new friends.”

  Hannah got out of bed and had something to eat. Afterwards she reluctantly went into the front room where the entire group, minus Bohdan who was out on patrol, was sitting around the fireplace talking. After a long while quietly listening, she started speaking herself. Before it was time for bed again, the girl truly knew she was among friends.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Over the next nine weeks, Hannah found herself very busy as there was plenty of work to do and new things to learn too. Her body and soul were healing and she was slowly feeling like a human being again. She started letting her hair grow out too, and made an effort to look and act more feminine. She never wanted to be mistaken for a male again.

  Along with the regular work, some of the group would also occasionally travel to help other families in need nearby, if only for a day or two. Hannah got to travel three times since she first arrived. Once aiding a neighboring group rebuild part of their house destroyed by fire, and twice helping some road refugees recover from cholera. Seldom would they have anyone come to them, maybe a family would come by for a visit. It was rare they would see refugees since they were so far off the road.

  Hannah became a friend to all of them but especially to the women in the group, and particularly with Carol. She would become a close friend and almost another mother to the impressionable young woman only now coming to terms with herself.

  The eating wasn’t as good as when she was with Rob and his men; in this house adults were on short rations as part of their crops were destroyed by storms earlier that year. But she didn’t mind so much that hunger in her belly when she had a clear conscience and real friends to talk to.

  Christmas came and went, there were no presents to give except each other’s companionship. The entire group was Christian, although of various denominations. But they put aside their differences and all came together every Sunday morning to worship together. Hannah halfheartedly joined in at first but over the weeks her faith grew.

  At last, the New Year arrived and the group sat around the fire talking about their hopes for 2018, and how it had to be better than the year now ending.

  As Jason and Bohdan marked the New Year with their watches, they all yelled out a cheer and exchanged hugs and kisses, along with well wishes.

  Carol took Hannah in her arms and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head, “Happy New Year, Hannah!”

  The girl smiled too and for the first time in years she could honestly return the sentiment, “Happy New Year!”

  Carol’s smile went away as she took the girl by her arm, “Hannah, can we talk, alone I mean?”

  “Yeah ... sure.”

  She led the girl into the back bedroom while the others continued in their revelry, “Let’s go in here, Hannah, where it’s quiet,” and gently closed the door behind them.

  Hannah was still in a joking mood, “Uh-oh, I’m in trouble again, aren’t I? What did I do?”

  But the girl could see in Carol’s face that this was no joke. “You’re not in trouble, just the opposite really. I’m actually worried about you.”

  “Why? What have I done?”

  “It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you haven’t done. That’s why I worrying about you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Frank, Jason, Bohdan, each of them have told me how they tried to teach you to shoot but you didn’t want to do it. You would put them off, or make some kind of excuse why you couldn’t just then. Is there a problem, Hannah? Would you rather be taught to shoot by another woman? I’m not as good as Frank, but I can teach you, if you want.”

  Hannah looked up with dread in her eyes, it was now time for the discussion she avoided having since she arrived. “You know I love you, don’t you? I love everyone here.”

  “Yes, Hannah, we all know that.”

  “But ...”

  “But?”

  “But I can’t agree with you guys on this. I don’t want to kill.”

  Carol patted the bed, “Here, sit down.”

  They both sat down on the old bed and Carol could see Hannah was quite uncomfortable sitting next to her there.

  “Hannah, tell me what you think about guns.”

  “My parents, they were both killed by guns. Guns are for killing people, guns are for murdering people.”

  “Like when Jason took his twenty-two and got us that squirrel yesterday, and that rabbit a few days ago? That was murder?”

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about, that’s different. But those pistols you carry, and those black rifles, they’re for murdering people. I don’t want to do that, I love God. I want to follow God’s laws.”

  “And you don’t think the rest of us love God, or want to follow the commandments? Hannah, let me ask you, do you have any experience with guns? How did your parents feel about guns?”

  “I’ve only had one experience with a gun. I tried to take Rob’s from him. I wanted to kill him with it. I was so mad I could have murdered him, and if I could have got his gun would have. As far as my parents, guns weren’t allowed in our house. My mom and dad, they told me over and over again, and now I know it’s true. Guns are for murdering people.”

  “Oh ... I see.” Carol pulled from her front pocket a Smith & Wesson Model 642 and placed it in the girl’s lap.

  Hannah stared at the pistol, afraid to touch it; there was no doubt it was loaded.

  “What do you see there, Hannah? You know what I see? A tool. It’s a piece of metal without a conscience. It’s no more evil than an axe or hammer. Guns aren’t evil, Hannah, only people can be evil. A gun is just an object, it can’t murder anyone. I also think you are confusing killing and murder; they’re not always the same thing. God told us to not commit murder, but we are allowed to kill, under certain circumstances. I think I’ll ask Frank to make this Sunday’s sermon about it.”

  “But ...”

  “Let me ask you another question. You know everyone in this house pretty well by now. Do you think anyone of them is capable of cold-blooded murder? Danielle, Bohdan, Vira ... all of the rest of us, you think we’re looking for a reason to kill someone?”

  “No ... I don’t think that.”

  “You’re right, Hannah, murder is wrong, God tells us so. But God doesn’t want us defenseless, either; we are allowed to protect ourselves. If your parents killed those trying to kill them, would they be murderers?”

  The girl had to think about it a moment, “No.”

  “No, they wouldn’t,” to the girl’s relief, Carol picked up her gun again, “You can’t commit murder if you’re defending your life.” Carol got off the bed and put the revolver back in her pocket, “I’m going to ask you to think over what we’ve just talked about. Think about it hard. I’m also going to leave you with one more thing to consider. The man that murdered your friend, you said his name was Rob. He tried to murder you too. Would it have been murder if you picked up that pistol and killed him instead? Would God have seen that as murder? Would God see you as a murderer?” She crossed the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Hannah there deep in thought.

  The following Sunday Frank gave a sermon on the subject and it helped clarify the questions in Hannah’s mind. With some more thinking and prayer, three days later on the tenth, she asked Carol to teach her to shoot a gun.

  The next day they started her training; it was mostly dry fire practice as they had little ammunition to spare and there was also security concerns. But in a few days she had the fundamentals down. She was “issued” her very own rifle, an old military M1 Carbine. It was all they had that was small enough for the girl to carry but still powerfu
l enough to get the job done. She was told to have it nearby her at all times and shown how to load and maintain it too.

  Another month went by and Hannah continued with her chores and lessons, finally getting in some real shooting experience. With some hard work, she became comfortable using her weapon. She still didn’t like guns but had to admit Carol was right; it was only a tool, evil can only reside in the hearts of men.

  Valentine’s Day arrived and the couples got some extra attention and a little time alone that day. Danielle and Hannah were down at first but after breakfast were given a pleasant surprise. Adam asked them both to be his Valentine and gave each a card he made with his own hands. The boy turned a deep shade of red when in front of the entire group his mother called him “My little ladies’ man” while Hannah and Danielle covered him with kisses.

  The next day started off normal enough, although by midday it seemed something was wrong.

  Jason came in through the front door having just finished the late morning patrol. Everyone was in earshot, “Something is going on.”

  The whole group came into the front room. Frank was the first to speak his mind. “Something doesn’t feel fight, does it? I noticed it when I was out there earlier this morning.”

  Jason set his Colt HBAR in the rack by the front door, “Yeah ... something just doesn’t feel right today. I can’t say what it is.”

  Carol helped him take his heavy coat off, “Is there anything specific, Jason, or is it just a feeling?”

  “A feeling, I guess, but I know enough to trust it.”

  Every one of them knew from past horrible experience that if you had a feeling in your gut, it was most likely true.

  Jason thought about it another moment and finally it came to him. “Birds, I didn’t see or hear a single bird this morning.”

  Frank agreed, “Yeah, now that you mention it ...”

  Brigid knew what to do. “I think we should call some of the other groups, see if they’ve had any problems. The Kurtzmans are the closest. Carol, try to reach them.”