Hanna Who Fell from the Sky

by Christopher Meades

  She climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the room. Hanna opened the door and peered down the hallway. As she pulled the door shut behind her—whether in haste or a moment’s carelessness—it closed far louder than she intended. The wooden frame shook, followed by a quick, noisy click of the latch. Hanna held still, not sure what to do, whether anyone had heard her. She took a step and the floor creaked. Hanna lifted her other foot and set it on the floorboards only to have them release a slow, audible groan. From Jotham’s room down the hall, Hanna heard the bedsprings squeak and then what sounded like knees cracking, someone standing up. She stole quickly down the stairs.

  The downstairs was steeped in darkness and Hanna hid in the shadows. From above, a set of footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Hanna wasn’t sure whom they belonged to. She cursed her luck. The other night when she went downstairs to turn off the radiator, she’d made all sorts of noise and didn’t rouse a single soul. Now, with Daniel’s invitation in hand and only three days remaining until her wedding, she’d been discovered.

  The footsteps halted at the top of the stairs. Then Belinda’s face appeared: white like a specter, peering, scanning the dark. Hanna curled up in a ball and stayed perfectly still. She tucked her head between her knees and tried not to make a sound. Upstairs, Belinda’s lungs filled with air. The railing shifted as she leaned her weight on it. A tickle formed in Hanna’s throat, growing itchier by the moment. It took all her power not to cough. She placed her hands over her mouth to stifle anything that came out, and waited. One second passed and then two and then Belinda turned around and walked back the way she came. Hanna heard her enter Jotham’s room and shut the door.

  She rose to her feet. Hanna slipped on her boots and her jacket and stepped outside.

  Daniel was waiting for her exactly where his note said he would be. It had been three days since they kissed at the top of the tower cathedral; an eternity. So much had transpired since then, and Hanna didn’t know how she would be received. In the back of her mind, she wondered how Daniel felt about her, whether her feelings were requited. Right away, Daniel put all her fears to rest. He wrapped his arms around her and they embraced in the shadows. Hanna felt his strong shoulders. She smelled his jacket and her cheek brushed against the soft skin of his neck.

  The way he held her, the way Daniel ran his hand through her hair, Hanna couldn’t imagine him ever becoming like their fathers, making brides out of young girls he barely knew. She wanted to say something, to ask him about Brother Paul’s plans, the impending excavation and construction of the marshlands, why Francis Rossiter had selected Daniel to continue his legacy and not his two brothers. But she didn’t want to ruin this moment.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I have to be back before sunrise.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m serious.” Hanna glanced at the darkened house behind her. “Emily needs me. Ahmre needs me.”

  Daniel took her hand. “You can trust me.”

  They drove with the headlights off until they reached The Road. The clouds overhead blanketed the night sky, blocking out the moonlight and darkening the gravel roadways. Daniel used the lights from the scattered households to guide their way. He drove carefully as they passed the abandoned mill. In the distance, the white church gleamed and in its light, Hanna made out Daniel’s features: his lips, pink like watermelon; those strong cheekbones; eyelashes that fell sharp and then floated upward each time he blinked.

  Daniel caught her looking and smiled warmly. Smiles aren’t always smiles, Hanna thought. Sometimes they’re a forceful hand twisting your arm. Sometimes they’re a plea for a moment to stop. Sometimes they’re accompanied by the unhappiest of eyes. What Hanna liked about Daniel was that when he smiled, he meant it.

  They pulled onto The Road. Hanna had pictured this moment in her mind countless times. Ever since she first read Daniel’s note, she’d known she’d be leaving Clearhaven for the first time. It never really sank in until the glowing white church faded from view and the darkness took over. Daniel still hadn’t turned on his headlights, and Hanna gazed out into the night. It was pitch-black behind them, pitch-black on their sides and in front of them. Then the headlights switched on, illuminating The Road. One of the car’s headlights burned brighter than the other and Hanna felt strangely safe in the faint, uneven light. Daniel turned on the radio and Hanna heard that music again, the kind he’d played on his little metal box: drums and guitars and a piano, the singer’s soothing voice. Hanna heard the word redemption. She cracked open her window and the cold air washed against her face. Hanna stretched out her arms, the adrenaline from her confrontation with Jotham still bubbling in her veins.

  They passed the township sign with Clearhaven’s name spelled in big bold letters and underneath that, the slogan written in lush, calligraphic strokes.

  CLEARHAVEN

  The Creator’s Orchard

  Hanna could hardly believe it. They were really leaving. She suddenly felt as light as a feather, like a wild thing that had been caught in a trap and had only now shaken free. Hanna pushed her seat belt aside, leaned over and kissed Daniel on the cheek. He seemed surprised at first, then he took his foot off the gas pedal and the car slowed down. Hanna kissed him flush on his mouth. She felt his wet bottom lip, tasted the mint he’d placed on his tongue before he’d picked her up, ran her hand through his hair. Hanna sat back in her seat as Daniel accelerated again. She watched his hands. They were strong like a grown man’s, only hairless and smooth. She imagined him touching her over top of her dress. She longed to know what his lips would feel like on her neck, the intoxicating shiver she’d receive as they slid over her goose bump–ridden flesh.

  Far in the distance was the big city. Music. People. Freedom.

  “Are you ready?” Daniel said.

  Hanna clenched his hand, willing and unafraid. “I’ve never been more ready,” she said.

  “Then let’s go.”

  25

  The train tracks came first, crisscrossing and interwoven, their rails accompanied by caution signs and a series of flashing lights. A deserted railcar sat next to a building made entirely of metal. Then acres and acres of farmland. Next, a highway with concrete dividers separating vehicles on either side. Cars traveling north and south. Hanna caught brief glimpses of the faces inside and Daniel watched her, fascinated by her fascination.

  Then, water. The edge of a great lake. Minutes passed and an orange glow appeared. It grew brighter and clearer until the city emerged: the buildings and street lamps and lights like a cluster of stars. Hanna had pictured the city a thousand times in her mind’s eye. What she didn’t expect was the beauty: the yellow lights peppering the windows, their pale, hypnotic reflection in the water, structures that dwarfed the tower cathedral and picturesque homes along a hill with white mailboxes and—when she looked closely—welcome mats across their front steps.

  Daniel turned onto a main road and the first pedestrians appeared: an older gentleman with a woman in a green skirt and then a young couple holding hands, the man carrying their infant child in a pouch strapped to his chest. Hanna wondered where they were going, what they would do when they got there. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, the thought that a person could get lost in the city—and not like a girl traipsing off into the woodlands alone—lost to the freedom, to the choices one might make when an infinite number presented themselves.

  Daniel drove like he’d been here before. They turned down another road and the car slowed with traffic. Hanna saw traffic lights for the first time and her eyes opened wide as they turned red, yellow and green, almost as if a conductor was hidden in the sky, watching the cars, aware of when they were backed up, when they needed to go, how to stop vehicles traveling in both directions when a pedestrian wanted to cross the road. Daniel navigated the streets capably. Together, vehicles of all sorts plotted
their courses in unison as though each knew when to stop, when to accelerate, which street to turn down.

  As Daniel pulled up to a line of cars waiting for a light to turn green, a group of young men walked by. They were dressed in black clothes, bearded, with their hat brims slanted forward to obscure their eyes. One of the men turned his head and, for a split second, Hanna thought he was looking directly at her. His dark eyes pierced the space between them. Hanna pictured the man approaching the car and gazing in through the window, studying her, trying to place what was different about this girl from the backwoods. Then one of the young man’s friends said something to make him laugh. His light chuckle brightened his eyes. It softened his features and he looked down the street, past Daniel’s car. That young man wasn’t going to judge Hanna’s appearance or the way she was dressed. He hadn’t even noticed her sitting in the car.

  A traffic light turned green and Daniel drove another block before parking next to a building tinted green by a shell of emerald-colored glass. Hanna gazed up at the building’s cascading stories. Personalized items lined the balconies: potted plants and patio furniture, colorful pillows and house pets pressing their faces against the windows. Hanna was wondering what kind of people might live there, when a woman exited through a grand door at the building’s front entrance. She was tall with rouge-colored cheekbones, dangling earrings and flaxen hair. Hanna immediately gave the woman a name: Clarissa. And a job: writer of books. She imagined the woman torn between two lovers, the decision all hers—not her father’s—and a difficult decision it was, what with both men showering her with affection. But Clarissa wasn’t ready to be loved. She wanted to travel the oceans. To see marine life in all its forms. To dance free along island reefs, touch coral with her bare hands and swim with dolphins. Hanna imagined the woman stealing away to a giant ship to sail the seas, to travel to lands she’d only seen on a map. The exhilaration of the unknown.

  The woman walked by Daniel’s car and Hanna gazed at her through the window. Their eyes met briefly and the woman threw a scarf over her neck and continued down the sidewalk.

  “Are you okay?” Daniel said.

  It took Hanna a moment. “Yes. I mean, it’s a lot to take in.”

  He placed his hand on her elbow. “I felt that way my first time too. Don’t worry. I’m here. We’ll be safe together.”

  Hanna looked out the window again. “Is this where the concert is?” she said.

  “It’s close. I thought we’d walk first, maybe get something to eat at the restaurant next door.”

  Daniel stepped out and hurried around to help Hanna with her door. Together they walked along the pavement. It was late in the evening hours and Hanna expected the streets to be empty. While they weren’t exactly teeming, dozens of people walked by. Hanna saw a man in a three-piece suit holding the hand of a beautiful woman with full, lush lips. She heard their voices, the man joking, the woman stifling her laughter.

  “They’re in love,” Hanna said.

  Daniel glanced back at the couple, who were turning around a corner. “How do you know?”

  “I can just tell.”

  Daniel extended his arm and Hanna took it. She leaned her head against his shoulder and ran her hand along his wrist. Hanna touched the muscles on his forearm through his jacket as they turned at the next corner and came to a street where cars weren’t allowed to travel. For the first time, Hanna stepped on cobblestones, hundreds of them fused together like pebbles on a beach. She bent down and ran her fingers along their outlines, felt the contours with the palm of her hand and gently pried at a loose stone before setting it back in place. Daniel helped her stand and together their feet glided across the uneven surface. They passed a bakery still open at this hour, one with beautifully decorated pastries and cakes in the window. Hanna smelled the sugary bread and touched the intricately carved placard on the confectionery’s outer wall. Dangling white lights adorned the trees as Hanna and Daniel passed bistros and cafés.

  Several clothing shops were surprisingly still open at this hour and Hanna gaped at the mannequins dressed in a variety of colors: blues, purples, pinks and reds. Reds. Hanna stopped in front of a store with a tall, thin mannequin wearing a silky red dress adorned with a simple black stripe. She pictured herself strolling into church, the red dress clinging to her body and the women covering their eyes, Brother Paul stammering in disbelief, his vile wife Makala fainting at the sight of her. They very well might tar and feather Hanna were she to be so bold.

  “Do you want to try it on?” Daniel said.

  “I could never.”

  “Of course you can.”

  Hanna shook her head. “The very idea is...preposterous.”

  A short laugh slipped from Daniel’s lips. “That’s a pretty big word when what you really want to do is say yes.” He opened the store’s front door. “Come on. They probably won’t be open much longer.”

  Daniel pulled gently on her arm and at first Hanna resisted, uncertain whether she could do it. Then Daniel kissed her. He placed his soft lips to her cheek and put his hand on her back. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But I know you’d look beautiful,” he said.

  Hanna wrung her hands. The restaurant they were heading to was just a few doors down. She pictured the scene when they sat at their table and Hanna took off her jacket, exposing her modest dress with sleeves that covered her entire arms, her constricting neckline in contrast to the stylish ensembles and tasteful tops of the women Hanna could see through the window. Hanna wouldn’t just feel different, she would look different, she would be different, and not because she’d chosen a singular style to express herself, but because the men of Clearhaven had forced her to dress this way.

  “Okay,” she said. “But quickly.”

  Minutes later, Hanna poked her head out from the fitting room door. Daniel was sitting in a chair nearby, his one leg over the other, waiting patiently as Hanna imagined many men had done in that very same seat.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  Daniel glanced back at the saleswoman who was starting to close the shop. “Does it not fit? Do you want me to get another size?”

  Hanna shook her head and stepped back inside the fitting room. There was a mirror against the far wall and in it the crimson fabric clung to her torso, revealing the contours of her stomach and her legs. The red dress’s shoulder straps paralleled her undergarment, leaving the hollow between her breasts exposed and very little to the imagination. Daniel was silent on the other side of the door. She imagined the look of disappointment on his face were she to emerge wearing her flowery dress—Brother Paul’s tiresome uniform—with the red dress in her hand.

  She put her hand on the door handle and twisted. Hanna opened the fitting room door and Daniel stood up. His eyes widened. His mouth hung open but nothing came out.

  Hanna rocked on her heels. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”

  Hanna looked at her feet and felt her cheeks flush. “My shoes don’t match at all.”

  “That’s okay. It’s stunning. It really is.”

  “All right, playtime’s over. I’ll change back.”

  Daniel caught the door before she could close it. “Wait,” he said. “Let me buy it for you.”

  Hanna lifted the price tag attached to the garment’s hip. “It’s too much.”

  “I have the money,” he said. “Don’t forget—I’m the benefactor’s son, after all.”

  Hanna thought of the dollar bills still tucked against her waistband. There were so many other uses for it. Hanna could buy food for the family, she could purchase new coats for her brothers and sisters. But, then, Jotham would be able to do that soon, once her marriage to Edwin was finalized and his business dealings with Edwin were under way. Kara had given Hanna this money to start a new life, one outsi
de Clearhaven. Wasn’t this what her mother intended? For Hanna to spend the money in the city, for her to blend in, to leave Jotham and Brother Paul and all their tyrannical rules behind?

  “No,” Hanna insisted. “I’ll pay.”

  * * *

  Hanna scanned the menu for the umpteenth time. She counted twenty-three items on the right side and more on the left. “How does one choose?”

  “It’s never easy,” Daniel said. “You know, some of the restaurants my parents took me to had pictures of the food next to each menu item.”

  “That’s remarkable.”

  He chuckled. “I thought it was too when I first saw it. But it’s not, really.”

  They were sitting in a restaurant attached to a small concert hall and the room was nearly overflowing with people. Hanna and Daniel were lucky to get seats, luckier still to be seated at a table near the window. A circular wicker lantern dangled from the ceiling, giving off a faint orange glow, casting the room in an auburn hue.

  The waitress approached, a pretty woman with short black hair and small tattoos of birds on her wrists. She asked Hanna what she would like to eat.

  “What are you having?” Hanna said to Daniel.

  He pointed at the menu. “The third one on the left,” he said and leaned in to whisper, “I recognize all the ingredients.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll have too,” she said.

  The waitress left and Hanna focused her gaze on the couple at the next table. The man was spooning noodles into his mouth, the woman telling him a story, parts of which Hanna could overhear. The woman’s sister was thinking of taking a hot air balloon ride and the woman said she would never go on one of those things unless she had a parachute attached to her back. The man laughed. His pasta got caught in his throat and he took a sip of water to wash it down. These big-city people were definitely not the sinful villains Brother Paul had led Hanna to believe. In fact, they didn’t seem all that different from Daniel or herself.