Hannahwhere

by John McIlveen

“Yeah, but they would have checked under the house as well …the police, the forensic team, search dogs. I’m sure of it,” Phil said.

  “Yes, I’m sure they checked it, too, right after the murder, but what if Anna somehow ended up back home about five days later?”

  “Why would she go back there?”

  “Where else would she go, Phil? She was seven years old, her thought process wasn’t as logical as ours, and she was freezing and irrational from the cold. Remember, it was March. She goes home looking for her mom and Hannah, and they aren’t there. Maybe the door is locked or boarded over. Maybe there’s a hidden key, but either way, no one is home. Hannah and her mom were alive the last Anna knew. Travis was hurting her mom, but she was alive.”

  “Why wouldn’t she just go to a neighbor for help?” Phil asked. He no longer sounded completely confident, and this uncertainty was the element of doubt for which Debbie had been hoping.

  “I can think of a few reasons. If Anna is at all like Hannah, and I’d wager she is, she wouldn’t have disobeyed. It’s in Hannah’s nature. It’s very important to her to stay in favor. Hannah has verified that Elizabeth Amiel told her to hide way under the house if things got ugly. She’s alone, horrifically traumatized, freezing, and scared shitless… things don’t get much uglier, especially to a seven-year-old. Next, way under the house is instilled into her subconscious as a safe place, and even disoriented she would probably recognize it. Finally, from everything we’ve seen, people, outside of her mother and possibly her babysitter, haven’t exactly been a source of comfort for her. I can’t blame her for not running to her neighbors, even though they might be wonderful people who could have saved her life.”

  “If she’s even dead,” Phil reiterated. “Okay, it sounds possible, but we could staple a million probabilities to this. I don’t think you’re presenting anything here that will widen eyes or make them stop and backtrack.”

  “Is there any way you can convince them to check under the house one more time?” Debbie asked. “Tell them Hannah thinks she’s there. Say anything that will convince them to take one quick look. If I were there, I’d do it…” Debbie’s voice trailed off as her own words registered.

  “I’ll give it a shot, but don’t get your hopes up. Maybe they will, but I’m guessing they won’t. I can’t see them jumping through hoops for some overzealous crackpot detective who’s two thousand miles away and can’t even speak right,” Davenport said.

  However, Debbie wasn’t listening. Her thoughts had shifted to other possibilities.

  “Okay, please do whatever you can,” Debbie said. “I have to go, Phil. Something just came up.”

  Debbie disconnected the call and put the phone and Hannah’s cookie in her purse. Standing, she gathered her barely-nibbled-at salad and the nasty iced tea and headed for the trash. She refrained from tossing out the salad, figuring Hannah might like it, but took great pleasure in dumping the tea.

  It was nearly 6 p.m. and there was still plenty of daylight to go for a little walk. She was positive Hannah would be up for it.

  Chapter 23

  Hannah smiled radiantly as she raced—only slightly favoring her sutured foot—from the hospital’s back-street entrance towards the Lincoln Avenue crosswalk, directly across the street from the brick-walled perimeter of Riverside Stadium. She stopped and glanced back at Debbie who luckily wore flat-soled shoes and was therefore able to keep up… nearly.

  What is it that makes Hannah so effervescent in spite of the tragedies she’s seen and the hardships she’s suffered? Debbie wondered. Whatever the source, it only made her more endearing.

  “There,” Debbie said, pointing left, to the east end of the Park.

  Riverside Park had five baseball diamonds, five softball diamonds, four tennis courts, three basketball courts, two horseshoe pits, a street hockey field, and a volleyball court, all arcing around the east and south sides of Riverside Stadium. It was the sports arena for many Riverside Schools and leagues, and with its beautiful, tree-populated grounds, a skating area, two child play-lots, a handicapped swing set, a boat ramp, numerous walking paths, and plenty of parking, it was also a favorite visiting spot for Riverside residents.

  The park was alive when they entered, as it always was on days like these, when the warm caress of a gentle breeze drifted off the Merrimack River. Amidst fading hints of contrails from passing aircraft, slow-moving cotton-ball clouds scattered across a brilliant sky, dragging shadows across the lush green lawns.

  The air vibrated with life as parents and siblings cheered the clink of bats against balls, and laughing children and barking dogs defied the loud and tinny strains of music forced through the speakers of portable radios. The savory aroma of Italian sausage drifted over them and Hannah unconsciously let out a hum of approval.

  “I agree,” Debbie said. “And there’s the culprit.” She pointed to a street vendor at a silver-and-red hawker’s cart. A delicious cloud enveloped him while he pushed onions and peppers atop the cooking surface. “Let’s lighten his inventory a little.”

  Hannah smiled her agreement with a sparkle of delight in her eyes. Debbie purchased two subs, with chips and two bottles of lemonade, which they ate while sitting on the lawn near the basketball courts, watching four young men in a vigorous and sweaty battle of two-on-two. Hannah finished her sandwich before Debbie had taken three bites.

  Impressed, Debbie asked, “Hungry much?”

  “Snarfed it,” Hannah said, followed by a startling belch. “Sorry,” she giggled, embarrassed.

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” Debbie said. “I’m just mesmerized by how fast you ate it, and surprised that burp didn’t pop you inside out.”

  Hannah surrendered to a bout of giggles, amused by the mental imagery of Debbie’s statement.

  Unable to finish the remainder of her sandwich, Debbie balled it up in her napkin and tucked it into the chip bag. “Hannah, I want you to help me,” she said.

  “Okay,” Hannah replied.

  “I know we can make things appear and disappear when we’re in our places, like my pen and the tennis ball, and what you said about your cat makes me pretty certain you can jump back and forth totally, as well… not just the thinking you, but all of you. Is this true?”

  “Unh-huh,” Hannah agreed without the slightest hesitation.

  “Okay. Well, today I learned something I did not know. Do you remember the two times you started fading away while you were sitting on my lap?” asked Debbie. “I just found out that I started fading away with you the second time.”

  “I know,” said Hannah.

  “You know? How come I didn’t?”

  Hannah shrugged and they remained quiet for a moment.

  “Why here?” Debbie asked. It wasn’t what she intended on asking, but the question popped out of nowhere and she realized how much she wanted to know. “Did you choose Riverside? You said you jumped out of Hannahwhere. Did you end up behind the dumpster by chance? If I were able to choose where I ended up, it wouldn’t be behind a dumpster of all places.”

  Hannah said nothing. Debbie couldn’t tell whether Hannah knew the answer and couldn’t formulate the words, simply didn’t know, or didn’t want to answer.

  “Is it like a lottery?” Debbie pressed. “Do you, like, think jump now, and poof!” She threw her hands up. “Where you end up is where you end up?”

  Hannah stared at the ground looking guilty and uncomfortable. “I didn’t come here from Hannahwhere,” she confessed.

  Debbie didn’t expect that answer, but wondered what answer she was expecting. “How’d you get here, then?” she asked.

  Again, Hannah hesitated to answer. Debbie moved closer to her, rubbed her back.

  “Honey, whatever it is, you can tell me. There is no way I’ll ever be upset with you.”

  Hannah’s nose and cheeks blossomed deep red with withheld tears. She said, “Mom would be so mad at me if she knew I snuck a ride in a trailer.”

  “You stowed away in a tra
iler?” Debbie asked, astonished. She pictured Hannah squeezed between large shipping crates and assorted cargo in the back of a tractor-trailer. It was a disconcerting image. “Why?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I was afraid Travis was looking for me. He took Anna. I kept thinking he was following me. I wanted to go somewhere he couldn’t find me.”

  “How’d you open the trailer door? Did you sneak in while they were loading or unloading?”

  Hannah stared at her uncertainly for a long moment and finally said, “It’s like a house door… just littler.”

  It was Debbie’s turn to look confused, and then she said, “Ohhh, it was a camper! Like a Winnebago?”

  “Yeah, one of those, like a little house that a pickup truck pulls,” Hannah said and sniffed.

  “How’d you know it was safe to go inside the camper?”

  “Because the old man and lady who went into Stuck’s for dinner looked friendly, and they were nice to Mrs. Cullen’s daughter Jillian,” Hannah said and shrugged again. “But mostly because the red bird sat on the roof of the camper and kept chirping at me. I know I’m supposed to listen to the red bird.”

  “The cardinal?”

  “Un-huh.”

  “How do you know you’re supposed to listen to the cardinal?” asked Debbie.

  “It’s what Mom wanted.”

  Although it kept popping up, the bird confounded Debbie, but she was going to stick with the concrete facts. She’d address the bird later.

  “What’s Stuck's? A diner?” Debbie asked.

  “It’s a place to eat in Elm Creek. Mom used to take us there sometimes. Stuck’s Lasco.”

  Stuck’s Lasco? Odd name, thought Debbie, though it did sound like an oil company, like Sunoco or Arco… why not Lasco? She had seen plenty of strange small town businesses with strange names. The web was full of them, like Bung Hole Liquors and Boring Business Systems.

  “Wait! Do you mean Stuck’s Last Call?” asked Debbie.

  “Unh-huh,” Hannah agreed. “That’s what I said.”

  “Got it,” Debbie said. “Mrs. Cullen runs it?”

  “Yup.” Hannah nodded, and then excitedly added, “Oh! Plus the camper had a Massachusetts license plate.” She had a little difficulty spitting out the state name.

  “Why did Massachusetts plates make it okay?”

  “Because the New England Patriots are from Massachusetts, and it means Tom Brady is from here,” Hannah said. “Mom loves Tom Brady. He’s her hero, and that’s what Anna and me need to help us… a hero.”

  Seeing the conviction in Hannah’s face, Debbie couldn’t restrain her laughter.

  “What?” asked Hannah, confused, but with a defensive edge to her voice.

  “You are such a doll!” Debbie assured her and gave her a quick hug. “It’s funny because Tom Brady is my hero, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely! Who can resist him? He’s soooo cute! Do you know who else is my hero?”

  “Brad Pitt?”

  “Hardly,” Debbie said, rolling her eyes. “You are!”

  “Me?” Hannah asked, crinkling her nose.

  “Absolutely! What you’ve been through and how you’ve stayed alive through it all is more than anyone I know could handle… including me.” Debbie rubbed the top of her head playfully. “What I have seen and learned since I met you, I never thought was possible, and I’m not talking about just the magical stuff. I’m talking about you surviving this long without adult help. You are amazing!”

  Hannah held Debbie’s gaze for a few moments and then gave her an embarrassed, toothy smile.

  After another pause, Debbie asked, “Hannah, if you can just wish yourself to be wherever you want to be, then why didn’t you just wish yourself to Massachusetts, or even into Tom Brady’s house? Why‘d you take the camper instead?”

  “Because Mom made me and Anna promise to never-ever-ever try to go someplace unless we already been there before,” Hannah explained.

  Processing this, Debbie asked, “What would happen?”

  Hannah shrugged. “It’s like going someplace that isn’t real because you don’t know anything about it, or where it is. Mom was afraid we would go where someone or something bad is, or in the same place where something or someone else is.”

  Debbie thought a while and then the understanding settled in. She imagined appearing exactly where someone was standing, or within a cement wall, or where a giant turbine or propeller was spinning. The thought made her queasy.

  “Oh my God, I’m glad you obey your mother!” she gasped.

  “Mom wouldn’t like me going in the camper,” Hannah said.

  “But they didn’t catch you, did they?” Debbie reassured her.

  “Almost. They stopped one time when I was peeing in their bathroom. I had to hurry. I hid under the seat cushions at the table where they eat. It was like a box with a cover that lifts. It only had two pillows and an orange, swimmy-so-you-don’t-drown-thing in it, so I fit in, too,” Hannah said. “I got the old man in trouble because I was hungry and I took the Fig Newtons that were on the counter into the box with me. I felt bad because she called him a pig face and wouldn’t believe he didn’t eat them.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Debbie chuckled. “This is quite the adventure you had. That’s a long ride.”

  “Yeah, but I think I slept a lot. It was real hot in there,” Hannah said.

  “Why’d you get out in Riverside?”

  “Whenever the truck turned off, I’d look out the window at other cars and trucks to see if they had Massachusetts license plates. There were none for a really long time and I was afraid they weren’t going to Massachusetts, but the last time they stopped, Massachusetts license plates were on almost every car, so I knew that’s where I had to get out.”

  Debbie imagined being nine years old and alone in an unknown city, with no one to turn to and no idea what to do or where to go. She was thirty and dreaded going into Boston. Everything seemed so large, the buildings so imposing, the streets an indecipherable spaghetti plate, and any strange face a potential threat. Boston never failed to put her into a near panic, and New York City made her a complete wreck.

  “You must have been so frightened,” Debbie said.

  “I was more tired of being alone,” Hannah said. “Can we go for a walk?”

  Debbie arose and tossed the wrappers and bottles into a green trash receptacle. She offered Hannah her hand, squeezed it reassuringly, and then they followed a paved path bordering the Merrimack River along the rear of the park.

  “Does it bother you to talk about all these things?” Debbie asked.

  Hannah looked up at Debbie. “No. I like to.”

  “Really?”

  “With you,” Hannah said. “I like Essie, too, but I’m scared to talk to her because she can’t think-hear me like you do.”

  “I think Essie’s okay to talk to if you’re comfortable with her. She’s just not like us with the traveling.”

  They wandered silently until Debbie said, “So, my little pioneer, how did you get from the trailer to the trash bin?”

  “The red bird,” said Hannah. “He has a really weird but neat chirp. It goes like, burpy-burpy-peep-peep. When I snuck out of the camper, the red bird was on top, looking at me and chirping like crazy. We were in a parking lot, but he flew across the street and down the little road. I knew I was supposed to follow him.”

  The cardinal again. Debbie remembered the one that landed on her during her first visit to Hannahwhere, and on the hood of her car after the liquor store fiasco.

  “I’ve seen one around, too. Do you think it’s the same one?” Debbie asked.

  Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know, but he’s always around. Even at the hospital, I see him in the tree outside my window. It’s like he was trying to say something, like when he landed on the dumpster and kept tweeting and flapping his wings. I knew he wanted me to stay there, so I hid behind the dumpster.” Hannah looked around for a few seconds and then po
inted to a thick-breasted cardinal high in a silver birch. “There,” she said.

  Debbie put two fingers to her lips and gave a high, sharp whistle. The bird jerked its head, looked directly at them, and responded with the characteristic chirby-chirby-chirby-chirby-djou-djou. He swooped to a closer tree and watched them.

  “I’ll be damned,” said Debbie. Even if it wasn’t the same bird, it was too odd not to be significant. Debbie returned her attention to Hannah and said, “You stayed at the dumpster for three nights?”

  Hannah shrugged.

  “You shrug a lot,” Debbie said and poked Hannah’s nose playfully.

  “You ask a lot of questions,” Hannah countered.

  “Touché,” said Debbie. “And don’t you dare say coulé.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. So, did the cardinal stay at the dumpster with you?”

  Hannah shrugged again, smiled, and said, “Coulé?

  “Smart aleck,” Debbie said. There were so many questions, but Debbie decided she’d broach the subject of the cardinal later. To keep the conversation on track, she asked, “What happened to your pants, underpants, and shoes? All you had on was an oversized shirt when Isaac found you.”

  Hannah’s cheeks flushed and Debbie understood.

  “Had an accident?”

  Hannah nodded. “A bad one,” she said. “I threw everything in the dumpster, even my shoes and socks.”

  “Happens to the best of us sooner or later,” Debbie said. “But you could have gone back to Hannahwhere at any time to get new clothes. Why didn’t you?”

  “The thinking me went back,” Hannah said rationally. “But I have to get help for Anna, and I can’t do it in Hannahwhere. When I go there, I want to stay there, so I promised Anna and me that I won’t go back until I find someone to help her. The cold really hurts her, but every time I tried to ask people for help, I got afraid and didn’t. I almost went all the way into Hannahwhere when Isaac Rawls found me, but I somehow knew I had to stay there and let him. When he picked me up he was warm, and it made me think how cold Anna is. If I went back, I wouldn’t get help for her and she would stay cold and stuck forever. Mom says we have to watch out for each other, and I didn’t watch out for Anna good enough.”