Hannah's Journey

by June Venable

  “I believe I can, Mr. Dobbs. When we finished the test, one of the students accused our new pupil of having the sheet and cheating on the test. We found it in her leg brace that she had removed and propped against the desk behind her. I planned to discuss this problem with you when the children went out for recess.”

  Mr. Dobbs rubbed his chin. “I know you realize the seriousness of this charge.”

  “Indeed I do. But I am positive that Hannah did not take the sheet from your desk.”

  “Why are you so sure, Miss Trent?”

  “When I graded the papers last night, Hannah missed one of the problems, as did most of the students. The problem was very difficult and we haven’t covered that unit yet, so it’s understandable.”

  “What does that prove?”

  “Well, sir, one student got all the answers correct.”

  “And who is that?”

  “The same girl who accused Hannah—Rosie Williams. Knowing Rosie’s weakness in arithmetic, she would have also missed that problem, and probably a few more.”

  “I see. You are probably correct, but we just can’t accuse Rosie on this basis. However, I do have an idea. I’d like you to repeat the test. Since we have the answer sheet in our possession, perhaps the culprit will get that particular problem wrong this time. I have more fresh test papers here. Good luck.”

  Miss Trent returned to the room and announced that today’s schedule had changed. “We will take the arithmetic test again today, class. I have new test papers here. Jimmy and Rosie, will you please pass them out?”

  Some of the children groaned. Lucy Toliver remarked, “It’s all your fault, Hannah!” Rosie tossed a fresh test paper on Hannah’s desk. Two red spots flamed on the girl’s cheeks, and she glared at Hannah.

  “Please begin now, boys and girls,” said Miss Trent when Jimmy and Rosie returned to their seats.

  For thirty minutes, the only sounds in the room were the scratching of pencils and the loud sighs of the students. At last, Miss Trent called time. “Pass your papers forward, class. Then you may have thirty minutes for recess.”

  “Hannah, would you please stay in and finish shelving those books for me?” Hannah gave a grateful nod.

  The children hurried out, excited by the extra time to play on a sunny morning. As planned, Miss Trent went to the principal’s office. “I have the tests, Mr. Dobbs.”

  “Sit down, between the two of us we can grade these papers quickly.” Working in silence, they went through the papers and found very little difference in the answers the students had given before. But when Mr. Dobbs came to Rosie’s test, he found five incorrect answers.

  Showing the paper to the teacher, the principal asked, “Is this usually about the number of wrong answers Rosie gives?”

  “Yes, Rosie does not do well at all in arithmetic. Sadly, I expected these responses. I am disappointed though. I don’t like any of the children to do poorly, but it’s especially sad to know that Rosie may have cheated.”

  Nodding, Mr. Dobbs said, “When the students return, please send Rosie to my office.”

  * * * *

  Mr. Dobbs wondered how he might help this troubled child. A knock on the office door brought him out of his reverie. He hoped this conversation would go well. He, like Miss Trent, disliked seeing any child not do well at their studies.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened and Rosie Williams stepped in. “Teacher said you wanted to see me, Mr. Dobbs.”

  “Yes, Rosie, I do. I’d like you to tell me what you saw yesterday during the arithmetic examination.”

  “Well, I saw Hannah Monroe looking at another paper during the test.”

  “Where did she get the paper, Rosie?”

  “She had it in her pocket first then she took it out and put it under the test paper. She kept sneaking looks at it. Afterwards, when the test was over, she stuffed the paper into her leg brace.”

  “You’re quite an observant young lady.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rosie shifted from one foot to the other.

  “I understand you made one hundred on your first test.”

  Looking uncomfortable, Rosie only nodded.

  “Do you know your score on today’s test?” Mr. Dobbs glared at Rosie, who stared back, her eyes wide.

  “You missed five problems. Can you tell me why?”

  The girl opened her mouth, but nothing happened. Swallowing hard, her hazel eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. Freckles stood out starkly against her pale skin.

  “I can explain...” she began, then collapsed in the chair next to the principal’s desk. Her sobs came in earnest. Mr. Dobbs waited until they subsided.

  “Would you like to tell me about it, Rosie?”

  Sniffing, Rosie dug a crumpled handkerchief from her pocket.

  “I got a hundred ’cause I took the answer sheet from your desk. I copied it, then passed it to Lucy. I told her to put it under

  Hannah’s desk, but when Hannah took her brace off and leaned it against Lucy’s desk, it was an even better place to put it. Rosie took a deep breath. “That’s all, Mr. Dobbs.”

  The principal sat lost in thought for a moment before he spoke. “Rosie, this is very serious. You’ve caused a lot of trouble for many people. It’s not only you and Hannah. You’ve involved all of your classmates, your teacher, your mother and the Logan family, as well as the good name of our school.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

  “I’d like to know how you got the sheet and why you blamed your classmate for having it? Can you dry your eyes and tell me about it?” Rosie twisted her sodden handkerchief, looked at the floor and began.

  “Miss Trent sent me to return a book to your office. She said just to leave it on your desk since you had been called away.” Rosie sighed heavily and continued. “I put the book on your desk and that’s when I saw the answer sheet lying there. I knew I couldn’t pass the test and I wanted to win the award, so I took the answers.”

  “I see,” said Mr. Dobbs, almost to himself. “In my haste to leave, I neglected to put the sheet away.”

  Clearing his throat, the principal urged Rosie to go on. “That explains how you got the answers, but I’d also like to know why you blamed it on Hannah.”

  Hearing this, Rosie’s eyes blazed. “Because I hate her!”

  Startled, Mr. Dobbs sat back in his chair, not expecting such a reply. “Why do say that, Rosie? What has Hannah done to cause you to feel this way?”

  “Because her Uncle David put my pa in prison.”

  “I’m sorry, Rosie, I didn’t know Mr. Logan’s firm had anything to do with your father’s problem. It happened before I came here three years ago.”

  “Yes, sir. They said my pa stole some money.” Rosie’s hands locked together as she continued. “He didn’t, Mr. Dobbs. Honest, he didn’t. But he’s in jail anyway, all on account of Mr. Logan.”

  “That’s most unfortunate, Rosie, but I still don’t know why you hate Hannah.”

  “Don’t you see, Mr. Dobbs?” Rosie’s eyes pleaded for him to understand as she continued. “Before Hannah came to school, everybody in town said the Logans were gonna get a girl from the Orphan Train. She would get to live in that big house and have a pony and everything. I don’t have nothin, not even a pa!”

  Rosie sniffled again. “When she came to school, she had on a pretty dress and new shoes. Look at these!” Rosie cried, sticking her feet out. “They’re ugly and too small because they’re handme-downs. Me and Ma have to take charity while she has everything.” Rosie stopped and slumped further into the chair.

  Mr. Dobbs said nothing for a moment, gazing down at the serviceable boots Rosie wore. The shoes looked sturdy but nothing a young girl cared to wear.

  “Again, I’m sorry for your situation, Rosie, but you have done something wrong out of jealousy and misdirected anger. You must make it right again.”

  Rosie’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the principal.

>   “I want you to return to the classroom and apologize to Miss Trent, the class and most of all, you must make a sincere apology to Hannah. I will deal with Lucy for her part in this later.”

  Mr. Dobbs wasn’t finished. “Of course, there must be further punishment. For now, I want you to ask your mother to come to school next week and talk with me.”

  Rosie stood and walked to the door. “I’ll do what you said, Mr. Dobbs, but you can’t make me like Hannah.” She left, closing the door with a little more noise than necessary.

  * * * *

  Miss Trent and the class looked up when Rosie came back to the room. Standing just inside the door, the girl stared at the floor until Miss Trent spoke. “What is it, Rosie?”

  Her flame colored hair covering part of her face, Rosie’s voice barely rose above a whisper.

  “Please speak up, Rosie, we can’t hear you,” the teacher said.

  Raising her head, Rosie blurted out, “It was me that cheated. I’m sorry for what I done.” With that, she marched to her desk, plopped down and turned her head away from everyone.

  Silence enveloped the room. Miss Trent asked the class to take out paper and pencil.

  “I’d like each of you to write a composition on how you would like others to treat you if you were a new student in school.”

  The children looked at one another and began to write.

  As they worked, the teacher observed her pupils. Heads bent, they labored over the assignment. Some stared at the paper, willing words to come. Others wrote furiously. Miss Trent smiled as she looked at Joey Warner who kept his tongue clenched between his teeth, his usual method of concentration.

  When they finished, Miss Trent asked each student to read the compositions. At last, Rosie’s turn came. She stood and read to the class. “If I was a new student, I wouldn’t try to act so smart. I wouldn’t think that because I had pretty clothes and was teacher’s pet, that I could do anything I wanted. And I sure wouldn’t think that just ’cause I was a cripple, that everybody should be sorry for me and treat me nice!”

  A gasp went up from the other students as Hannah’s face blanched.

  Miss Trent bit her lip and said, “Rosie, how very unkind. Please apologize to Hannah.”

  Jumping up from her desk, Rosie ran from the room, shouting, “I’m not gonna say I’m sorry to nobody!”

  Turning to the windows, the class could see Rosie running across the playground and out of sight.

  Every eye went to Miss Trent. “Class, you’re dismissed for today. I will see you at the picnic on Sunday.” As she said this, tears came into Miss Trent’s eyes.

  Waiting until the room emptied, Hannah approached the teacher. “Miss Trent, please don’t cry. I don’t think Rosie means

  to act the way she does. Maybe we can help her.”

  Blinking back her tears, Miss Trent looked at the young girl who stood before her. “You’re right, Hannah. You’re a smart girl to know that, as well as having a forgiving heart. Let’s forget all that’s happened in the last couple of days and enjoy the picnic on Sunday. We’ll decide what to do next week. But I do promise you that Rosie will never again say the hurtful things to you she said today.”

  Hannah gathered up her books the two walked out together into the bright Texas sunlight.

  CHAPTER SEVEN – STORM CLOUDS

  Sunday dawned clear and cool. The family hurried through breakfast, with Delia urging them to save their appetites for the big basket of fried chicken she agreed to fix for lunch. She had spent the afternoon on Saturday baking a cake and two pies for the Ladies Benefit Society, which always sponsored a pastry booth with profits going back to the various charities of the church.

  Delia topped off her contributions with a platter of deviled eggs and a bowl of potato salad. She packed the last two items in ice for the Logans to pick up on the way to the park.

  The girls lingered in the kitchen, chatting with Delia until she waved them out. “See you after church. I’ll have your picnic basket packed.”

  “What will you do without us this afternoon, Delia?” they teased.

  “Why, I’ll enjoy having some nice quiet time to myself. Now, you two scoot out of here.”

  * * * *

  When church services ended, the crowd spilled out and headed for the park. The Logans stopped by for the picnic basket. Delia had tucked a red and white checked cloth around the food.

  The families going by carriage waved to those who strolled toward the park. Sweethearts walked arm in arm, and groups of mischievous boys dared one another to perform balancing tricks by walking on top of white painted fences.

  Soon, most of the town had arrived at Lafitte Park for the annual picnic. Tables were placed in the pavilion and the ladies set out food. The men gathered to play horseshoes and prepare for the games and races scheduled to take place shortly.

  Caroline begged Hannah to take her down to the creek where some of the children had gone to play in the cool water. Aunt Margaret nodded her permission, and the girls made their way to the banks of the creek to watch the boys splashing each other with glee. Some of the more daring girls had removed their shoes and stockings and waded in, squealing when the boys threw cold water on them.

  Hannah took Caroline’s hand, holding the younger girl at a distance from the water fights. Standing on the tree-lined banks, the girls laughed at the antics of the others. Both enjoyed the merry scene until Hannah felt something hit her. Looking down, she saw a blob of mud that someone must have scooped up from the water’s edge. Its reddish color already stained her dress. Mud dropped in clumps onto her shoes.

  Looking around, she saw a figure slip into a dense grove of trees that grew close to the creek. Using her handkerchief, she rubbed at the muddy residue, but saw it only worsened the stain. Leading Caroline, Hannah made her way back to the covered pavilion.

  “What happened, Hannah? Did you fall?” asked Aunt Margaret looking at her dress.

  “No, Ma’am. Someone threw mud at me.”

  “Well, I expect the children were just having fun, and really didn’t mean any harm. I’m sorry your dress is stained, but I’m sure Delia can take care of it.”

  Hannah didn’t reply, but looked toward the stand of trees knowing it hadn’t been an accident. Why did this happen? She’d tried to be nice to everyone, but they only ignored her. Maybe they’re afraid of Rosie.

  Uncle David came up the steps of the pavilion calling “Who’s hungry beside me?”

  Caroline, always ready to eat, sang out “Me, Papa, I’m hungry too.”

  Hannah looked around, her good nature restored. She had never been to such a large picnic before. She saw neighbors sitting together, chatting about town events and the games to come later. She dug into the bowl of fried chicken, selecting a drumstick. About to take a bite, she saw David look upward.

  “What’s wrong, Uncle David?

  “Looks like rain’s coming, and just look at those clouds rolling in.”

  Hannah didn’t see anyone making plans to leave so she continued eating and watched as the potato sack races began. Mr. Needham, who owned the barber shop and Tom Valentine, the young man who clerked in David Logan’s law office, were neck and neck, when the first drops of rain began to fall. Not willing to give up, the two continued to hop as the cheering crowd ran for the shelter of the pavilion.

  Suddenly, the clouds deepened into angry hues of purples and greens. Hannah gasped and searched the sky. Lightening forked overhead and crackled around the shelter where the crowd had gathered. Children cried as parents held them close. Icy pellets of hail beat a tattoo on the metal pavilion roof. Those trying to run for home turned back when the frozen rain hit them.

  Hannah had never seen such a storm. Looking around, she spotted some of her classmates. Then, looking closer into the group, she saw Rosie. Her wild red hair tamed into braids, she had tied the ends in twine. Lucy Tolivar huddled nearby, her eyes large and frightened. Hannah wondered what Rosie was doing here after the embarra
ssing incident at school.

  David Logan leaned over to his wife and whispered “I don’t like the looks of this, Margaret. Get the girls together.”

  Looking around, David saw a length of rope that had been used to mark off the lanes for the races. Tying it to a post, he wound it around the four of them, then looped it through another supporting post.

  “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.