Hanna Who Fell from the Sky

by Christopher Meades

  Just then, an announcement sounded and the concert hall doors opened up at the restaurant’s far end. Most of the patrons started paying their bills and filing toward where the band would be playing, leaving a scattered few couples still finishing their meals. As the room cleared, Hanna could hear the music playing on the speakers overhead. She leaned back in her seat, and for the first time since she could remember, her shoulders relaxed. She breathed in deep without reminding herself to do so. Hanna looked directly at Daniel.

  “What is it?” he said.

  Hanna took a sip from her glass of water. “When I left the house tonight, I thought it might be strange being here with you. I mean, I barely know you.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I think you know me pretty well by now.”

  She thought for a second. “I suppose I do. But when I first met you, for all I knew, you might have been a murderer.”

  “A murderer?” he said, chuckling.

  “I don’t know. You surprised me that day. You could have been a killer or a criminal sent to do me harm.”

  “I assure you, I’m not secretly here to do you any harm.”

  Hanna laughed. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that to lull me into submission, only to find the perfect time to strike?”

  “I promise,” Daniel said.

  Overhead, the sound of cellos played on the restaurant’s speakers. Soon the concert would start in the hall next door. But for now it was quiet, the cellos singing softly, the white lights twinkling on the trees outside.

  “Is it as strange as you thought it would be, being here with me?” Daniel said.

  A smile curled at the corner of his mouth, and Daniel’s eyebrow raised slightly. He was teasing her. Hanna wanted to say that it was strange that it didn’t feel strange, that there was no one else she’d rather be with at this moment. Instead, she reached her hand across the table. Their fingers meshed.

  “I think you’re definitely not a vicious criminal sent to do me harm,” she said, to which Daniel laughed.

  Hanna gazed at their fingers joined together. In a few short days, she would take Edwin’s doughy hand in hers. Hanna would stand before the congregation at the old tower cathedral and pledge her undying love to him. She pictured Daniel standing in the same spot, linking hands with a girl he’d just met, marrying one after another until he’d amassed his own personal harem.

  “You want to say something, don’t you?” Daniel said. “Please, say it. Life is too short to not say what you feel.”

  Hanna pulled her hand away. She sat up straight. “My father told me something tonight about Brother Paul’s plans for you.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Are you really planning to marry half the town?”

  Daniel laughed. “Is that what he said?”

  Before she could answer, the waitress approached. Wisps of steam sailed off the food as she placed their plates down, each featuring a chicken breast covered in a thick, mouthwatering sauce and green vegetables; some Hanna recognized, others were completely new to her. There were potatoes, as well: crisp triangular slices sprinkled with herbs. The aroma was intoxicating. It was, without a doubt, the most luxurious plate of food she’d ever seen.

  Daniel’s voice lifted Hanna’s eyes up.

  “I can’t follow in my father’s footsteps. I’m not going to marry whomever he chooses. I still wonder too much about the rest of the world. My mind still wanders too much.”

  “Are you going to leave?” Hanna said.

  “We’re already gone. Look around. Your father’s not here. Brother Paul isn’t here. We can take a train to another city if we want, find my brothers. James and Kenneth could lend us money. They could help us get away, just you and me.”

  Daniel’s tone was serious and Hanna could tell that he really meant what he said. Hanna’s dreams of escape could come true. She could travel to the other side of the world. And she could do it tonight.

  Except her sisters were still at home. Emily was there.

  “I can’t. My sister needs me,” she said.

  “That leaves me in a bit of a predicament, then.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, I can’t stay in Clearhaven and do what my father tells me. But I can’t leave you.”

  “Be serious,” Hanna said.

  “Oh, I’ve never been more serious in my life,” Daniel said. He shifted in his seat and placed his hands on the table. He seemed fidgety all of a sudden, as if he was nervous. “There’s something about you. I don’t know exactly how to describe it. I mean, there are things I love, like the way you smile and the way you get excited before you’re about to say something. But I don’t think that’s it. There’s something about you that makes me never—ever—want to let you down.

  “I don’t care if we’re young. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a week...you’re the one for me. The last thing I want to do is pressure you. I’m not sitting here asking you to love me for all time or anything. There’s a long life in front of you, Hanna. And I would never think of getting in the way of you having great love affairs and following your dreams. But I want you to know—you could go off and travel the entire world. You could sail the oceans and see the seven wonders, but I will always be there, waiting for you. Because you’re the one.” He picked up his glass and tinkled the ice inside. “Whether you decide I’m the one for you still remains to be seen.”

  Hanna put her hand over her eyes. She looked down at the table. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

  “Because they’re embarrassing?”

  “Because I’m marrying Edwin in three days.”

  Daniel paused. He averted his eyes briefly, delving inward, contemplating, before turning back to face Hanna.

  “Well, clearly I don’t have everything figured out just yet,” he said.

  A moment passed, then another, and then music resonated from the other room. The band was playing. The drums and guitars sounded first, and then Hanna heard the woman’s voice, muffled through the wall. The food still sat in front of them.

  “Shall we eat?” Hanna said.

  “First we eat,” Daniel said. “Then we dance.”

  * * *

  The music filled the theater. Blue lights illuminated the drummer, a mountain of a man with a neatly clipped beard. A tall guitarist played with his head down in deep concentration, while a second guitar player bopped to the music. Her hair dangled just past her ears and her bright pink skirt was shorter than any dress Hanna had ever seen. At center stage, cast in orange and white lights, a woman with flowing brown curls sang into a microphone.

  Concertgoers hovered around the edge of the hall, nodding their heads to the beat, their eyes glued to the singer, engrossed in the music, while toward the center, the crowd pulsed. Young men and women danced to the music. They joined hands and swayed their hips to the rhythm. They reveled without care.

  Hanna and Daniel stood on the outskirts, Daniel watching the crowd while Hanna stared transfixed at the singer. The woman’s voice rang out and yet she never shouted. She cradled the microphone in her hands, the music throbbing around her, encompassing her, the singer’s shoulders rising and falling, her words flowing just behind the beat, never rushing. The singer gazed at the crowd and then stepped back, bringing the throng of people with her, her voice like a violin, uplifting and melodic even as the drums crashed behind her. The female guitarist leaned against her back and a brief smile pursed the singer’s lips, the two of them immersed, engrossed, pulsing like a heartbeat, the audience hanging on the singer’s every word, Hanna hanging on her words. Orange lights haunted the theater. The singer’s face contorted like an anguished thing and she cried passionately into the microphone.

  Hanna didn’t just hear her words. She felt them. She felt the woman’s sadness, her
joy, how one was incapable of existing without the other.

  The band launched into the song Daniel had first played for Hanna outside church, the woman singing “Redemption” in sweeping swells. When it came from her mouth, redemption wasn’t just a word. It felt like an undeniable truth, an attainable thing. Daniel took Hanna’s hand and together they walked into the center of the hall. Young bodies twirled all around them. Hanna felt the music in her bones. Daniel joined the dancers, swinging his arms and kicking his feet, his quiet confidence translating into fearless abandon.

  Back home, Hanna had danced with her sisters many times. But she’d never danced in front of strangers before. Hanna had never danced in such a revealing dress. She felt like everyone in the concert hall could see her chest, that they could see the contours of her body.

  Then Hanna saw Daniel’s arms waving in the air. The joyous look on his face. Clearly, he didn’t care what everyone else thought.

  How could she restrain herself in the face of such joy?

  Hanna grabbed Daniel’s hands and together they spun in a circle. The crowd pulsated around them and Daniel lifted her in the air. Hanna wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and held on tight as the lights turned blue and then white and then orange. The chorus repeated and Hanna sang along. The red dress clung to her, accentuating every curve, and Hanna didn’t care. She felt free. She felt liberated. She felt invincible.

  They stayed at the concert hall for over an hour, but time was getting late and Hanna knew she needed to get home before someone discovered that she was gone. They left the revelers behind and walked the cobblestone path beneath the streetlights, back toward Daniel’s car.

  Hanna wrapped her arm around Daniel’s. She took in the big-city lights one last time, committing images to memory: the emerald-tinted building, the tufts of steam puffing from the manhole covers, the placid lake water. Hanna filed them away like snapshots in her mind, to be revisited days, months and years from now. Before Hanna stepped into the car, she spread her arms wide and took in the freedom. Hanna basked in it.

  All the while knowing that soon she would return home.

  26

  On the ride home, Hanna rested her head against the window in Daniel’s car. They passed the railroad tracks, having long since left the city’s orange glow behind. Every passing moment brought them closer to Clearhaven. It was an odd sensation, traveling back the way they came. Hanna tried to compare herself to the girl who’d left Clearhaven hours ago, to discern whether she was a different person now, whether this one experience had changed her. But the moment was still so fresh.

  Hanna had long been told—by her mother, in church sermons and from books at school—that the journey is what matters, much more so than the destination. A maxim like that is easy to proclaim while a journey is in full swing, she thought. Once it’s over, there’s no greater longing than for the start.

  Daniel looked over from the driver’s seat. They hadn’t spoken much on the drive home. Hanna was still in her red dress, her jacket tucked in the back seat as Daniel’s car passed the Clearhaven town sign. She was trying to think of a way to thank Daniel, not just for taking her to the city tonight, but for his kind words, for the promises he’d made at the restaurant, when a set of bright red and blue lights colored the night. A shrill sound rang out.

  Hanna turned around in her seat and saw the police car gaining ground. Her heart leapt into her throat. “Don’t stop,” she said.

  Daniel looked in his rearview mirror. He swallowed hard. “You’re kidding, right? They’re the police.”

  “You know who that is.”

  “They have guns,” Daniel said. “I have to stop.”

  He slowed the car down and pulled over to the side of The Road.

  Hanna grabbed his arm. “I can’t be seen with you.” She looked down at her red dress. Hanna wrapped her bare arms over her chest in a futile attempt to cover up. “I can’t be seen like this.”

  She couldn’t tell if Daniel had heard a word she said. He turned off the radio and put the car in Park as the police cruiser pulled up behind them. A silhouette emerged from the dark, and instantly Hanna knew who it was. The policeman walked toward the vehicle. He shined his flashlight in through the driver’s side window so brightly it hurt their eyes.

  “Would you shut off your automobile, sir?”

  Daniel shut the engine off and then Paul the Second’s hairy forearm reached inside and yanked the keys from the ignition. He scanned Hanna up and down with his flashlight. Paul pulled the toothpick out of his mouth. His brow contracted and he nodded his head slowly, eyeing Hanna and Daniel before walking back to the police cruiser where two voices sounded on the deserted strip of road. When Paul came back, his brother was with him.

  “Step out of the vehicle,” he said.

  Daniel opened his door and stepped out right away. Hanna hesitated, her mind racing, searching for some other option, some way to stop the brothers, to go back to a minute ago when she was wrapped up in reflection. There was none.

  Slowly, with great reluctance, she stepped outside. Paul the Second was holding his nightstick in one hand. Beside him, Paul the Third’s face was camouflaged by the night. The red and blue lights flashed in strobe-like bursts, backlighting the brother’s massive figure.

  Paul the Second shifted his belt against his hip. He pointed his nightstick at Hanna’s dress. “It looks like Aunt Makala was right. Red. Like a whore.”

  “Hey!” Daniel said.

  “Daniel, don’t,” Hanna said.

  “Listen to the streetwalker,” Paul the Second said.

  Daniel looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry I was speeding.”

  “That ain’t the half of it, son.”

  Daniel stepped forward. “Paul, let me call my father. I’m sure he can help us figure this out.”

  With a sudden vicious strike, Paul the Second slashed Daniel across the face with his nightstick, sending a horrific sound into the night. Daniel’s head flung back, blood dripping from his mouth. Hanna screamed. She ran to Daniel and caught him as he fell to his knees.

  Paul the Second strutted back and forth along The Road. He threw his arms over his head and let out a single “Woo!” at the top of his lungs. His nightstick twirled in fast, furious circles. “Boy, you don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in.”

  The other Paul dragged Daniel to his feet only to push him to the ground again. “Now, get up!”

  “Leave him alone,” Hanna pleaded. She tried to step in between them, but Paul the Second shoved her aside.

  “You stay out of this, little girl!” he said.

  Paul the Third threw Daniel against the car and fished out a pair of handcuffs. “What were you thinking, kid?” he said. “Driving out of town with another man’s fiancée? A fiancée who was reported missing hours ago? I don’t know what they taught you when your daddy took you to the big city, but around here we appreciate something called manners.”

  Paul the Third opened the door and pushed Daniel into the back seat. The other Paul approached Hanna.

  “You had no right to hit him,” she said. “He didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Hands on the hood of the car, ma’am.”

  “You can’t be serious, Paul.”

  “Oh, I’m dead serious, girl.” He grabbed Hanna by the arm. When she refused to budge, he shoved her hard against the car. “Now put your hands on the hood.”

  Hanna looked past him, into the darkness. In the back of her mind, a voice told her to run. She pictured herself taking off as fast as she could, sprinting into the night. Hanna could run away and never look back. But could she? Hanna could easily outpace Paul the Third, but Paul the Second was in excellent shape. He would likely catch her. Hanna didn’t want to think about what he would do to her all alone in the dark if his brother and Daniel were
n’t there to see.

  She took a deep breath and put her hands on the hood of the car. Hanna let Paul the Second place his nightstick against the small of her back. Almost on cue, his brother shut off the cruiser lights and suddenly the blue and red evaporated and all that was left was the glow of the moon. Hanna’s vision fell prey to the faint light. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, struggling to see.

  “Now spread your legs.”

  Hanna shot Paul a look of contempt and spread her feet a few inches. Paul muttered under his breath—an angry, guttural sound that didn’t include any words—and with a single swift kick, forced her legs apart. He ran his nightstick along her hip, down her legs to her calves, pushed it hard up and down her arms, and then around to her stomach, where he let his hand take over.

  Hanna suddenly felt terribly cold. Her entire body seized up as Paul reached under her dress and cupped her breast. His fingers moved slowly from one side to the other, his palm coarse and sweaty, grabbing her, fondling.

  A scream rose in Hanna’s throat.

  “What’s this?” Paul pulled the wad of cash from Hanna’s undergarment. He meshed the money between his fingers and then dropped it on the hood. “What did you do to get all that cash, girl?” he said. “Did the rich boy over there give it to you for favors? Because that’s illegal in these parts, you know.”

  Overhead, a crackle reverberated in the sky. The air smelled of rain.

  Let him do this, Hanna thought. It can’t get any worse.

  Paul slid his hand under her dress and along her thigh. Hanna cringed as his hand moved farther up her leg. He blew a whiff of tangy hot air into her ear.

  “Damn, Hanna,” he said. “If I’d known you’d been giving it up to little milksops like that kid, I would have gotten inside this a long time ago.”

  “Do not touch me there,” Hanna said through clenched teeth. She tried to stand up straight, but Paul pushed her against the hood. He knocked her hard on the back with his nightstick. His fingers curled under her dress.