Hanna started to shake. Inside her, something ignited. She didn’t know what it was. Earlier that evening, orange flames had burst inside her chest when she confronted Jotham. But this was different. Hanna filled with rage. Her muscles clenched. She could barely breathe. Above, the night was swirling, swelling, transforming. And then it happened—a crack appeared in the sky. A white light emerged from the darkness and turned brighter with each passing second.
Paul laughed, his cackle wicked and ignorant and dumb. He placed the end of his nightstick squarely between her legs. “Oh, Hanna, don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
Inside Hanna’s mind, a storm erupted. She thought not only of Paul but of Edwin—cheerful, silly Edwin who used to carry Hanna on his shoulders and pretend to steal her nose—and how within three days’ time, he would put his hands where Paul’s hands were now, he would take her into his wedding bed along with the barren wife and those horrible women. Hanna’s chest pulsed. Her arms burned. A strength grew inside her. The voice in her throat beat like it had its own heart, fast and unwavering and desperate to get out. She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could.
“I said—don’t touch me there!”
She turned around quickly and hit Paul the Second in the chest. Hanna caught him by surprise and he reeled backward.
Up above, the clouds crackled. The ground started to shake. Paul looked up and saw the white glow in the sky for the first time. He stumbled back toward the car as a bolt of lightning raced down from the opening. It hit the ground with the force of a mountain collapsing. Quickly two more followed, one in front of the cars, another behind. The second collided within a yard of where Paul stood, knocking him off his feet, shaking the police car.
Paul the Second landed on his backside and gaped at Hanna. He looked up to the sky. “What’s happening?” he cried.
Hanna saw the terror in his eyes, his meek, quivering expression and she glared at him, unabashed, knowing and fearless.
“Let Daniel go,” she commanded.
The other Paul poked his head up from behind the police car. He scurried around the side of the car and opened the door. Hastily, he unclasped Daniel’s wrists. Daniel stepped into the open road as the two brothers quickly jumped into their vehicle and sped off. As they departed, the white light evaporated in the sky. All of a sudden, Hanna’s knees weakened.
She looked at Daniel, whose face had gone ghostly white. She wanted to tell him it would all be okay, that the brothers wouldn’t hurt them anymore, but it was like she had forgotten how to speak. The rage had burst out of her and she couldn’t feel it anymore. Hanna couldn’t feel anything, not the cold air around her, not her hands, not the ground beneath her feet. She faltered. Hanna stepped back woozily and caught herself. She thought she might stay upright, that the dizziness was temporary, only she couldn’t control her legs anymore. Hanna’s eyes closed. The world turned black and the last thing she saw was darkness as she collapsed to the ground.
* * *
When she awoke in Daniel’s arms, Hanna’s first thought was that it had all been a dream. She was still light-headed but aware now, awake. The moon hung like a broken coin in the sky and in its light she saw the bruise forming along Daniel’s jaw. Beyond him, a star pattern was etched in the soil. Twenty paces away, there was another outline and behind their car, though she couldn’t see it, Hanna knew a third mark streaked the ground.
Daniel seemed surprised that she’d come to. “You scared me,” he said.
“How long was I out?”
“I’m not sure. A few minutes, maybe more,” he said, holding his injured jaw. “I thought I’d lost you.” Daniel looked around. It was just the two of them. The brothers were gone. Above, black clouds hovered in the space where the opening had formed. Daniel’s eyes were wide, his mouth open, his voice unsteady.
“What happened back there?” Daniel said. “What happened with the sky?”
Hanna opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. Hanna herself barely knew what had transpired. She couldn’t put into words the feeling when the scream burst out of her body, and she was still dazed, still struggling to stand up. Hanna climbed to her knees and then her feet. She pushed her hair out of her face and almost lost her balance.
“Careful there,” Daniel said.
“I’m okay. I’ll be okay,” Hanna said.
She stared at the moonlit star pattern on the ground. For over twenty-four hours, Hanna had been telling herself that Kara had made up a story to get her to run away. You fell from the sky! she’d said. The heavens opened and you landed unscathed. Hanna had convinced herself it was nothing more than a fairy tale. She recalled the tumble from Jotham’s roof, the wind passing through her outstretched fingers moments before she struck the ground, how a fall from that height should have killed her. Hanna pictured the lightning flashing in the sky.
And she wondered—how had there ever been any doubt in her mind?
27
Daniel didn’t say a word on the rest of the drive home. The radio was silent, the only sound raindrops ricocheting off the roof of the car. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the trees lining The Road; they were gray and barren, some sloped to the side, others with their trunks splintered and branches winding like misshapen arms. The dismantled frame of an abandoned car appeared in a quick flash of the headlights and then it was gone.
Daniel’s careful lips now formed a thin line across his face and Hanna couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed or in pain after being struck by the nightstick. She sat on her hands, unable to shake the feeling that the confrontation with the brothers might be the final breaking point for Daniel, the one that would cause him to leave Clearhaven forever.
Earlier, when Hanna stepped out of the store in the red dress she’d paid for with her very own money and danced to the woman’s hypnotic voice, the thought of leaving Clearhaven was real. She felt it as strong as any emotion, as distinct as any earthly sensation. Escape was truly in her grasp. Now, as they reached the end of The Road and Daniel started navigating Clearhaven’s intricate series of intertwined avenues, that short burst of freedom felt like a fantasy, something she’d conjured up in her head.
Hanna had seen Daniel’s face light up when the city came into view. She’d noted the ease with which he slipped into city life. And Hanna’s wedding was only three days away. Soon she would be trapped inside Edwin’s home. Hanna would be pregnant before the end of summer and have Edwin’s baby in her arms by this time next year. How could she possibly convince Daniel to stay when the best she could offer him were occasional visits a few times a week at church?
Daniel pulled into Jotham’s driveway and parked beside the old battered pickup truck. He turned to Hanna.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked tentatively, but Hanna knew there was nothing. He couldn’t turn back time. He couldn’t change what had happened on The Road.
“No,” Hanna said. And then she whispered, “I’m sorry,” without knowing exactly why she was apologizing. She undid her seat belt and stepped out of the car as the light drizzle transformed into a full-fledged storm, spilling rivers of black rain onto the ground. Hanna’s hair quickly turned wet and her red dress soaked through. She watched Daniel’s car pull away and then turned to see a single light glowing in the downstairs window, outlining Jotham’s tall, heavy figure.
Her siblings were watching from above. Hanna could see their small faces, their wide eyes crowded against the bedroom window. She climbed the front steps and before she reached the door, Jotham turned on the porch light and stepped out to meet her. His face came slowly into view, the veins in his neck bulging, his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed to where any trace of white was completely obscured.
Earlier Hanna had felt emboldened in her new red dress. Now, in Jotham’s presence, her dress
heavy with rain and clinging to her skin, she suddenly felt ashamed. Slowly, Jotham undid his buckle and pulled off his belt until it dangled in his trembling hand.
“You disappoint me,” he said.
At any moment Hanna expected Jotham to lift the belt over his head and take a savage swing. As with Paul in the deserted road, she tried to decide whether it was better to run. With his bad back, Jotham could never catch her. Hanna could leap from the porch. She could run to the neighbor’s house and plead with them to take her in. She could sprint into the woods and find a safe place to hide until daybreak. In the morning she could return while Jotham was asleep and hope for the best.
Hanna had one foot off the deck when she glanced up at the faces in the window again. Were she to run, at least one of them—perhaps several—would endure Jotham’s wrath. She pictured Jotham storming upstairs, flinging the children’s door open and lashing his belt indiscriminately in the air. She envisioned Charliss rushing to protect the others; the metal buckle colliding violently against his arms, his chest and his face; Charliss falling to the ground, helpless; the children cowering in their beds. Hanna met Jotham’s gaze. No brother of hers would suffer in her place tonight. Hanna braced herself. She stood in place.
Seconds passed like hours. The punishment, the belt, Jotham’s unbridled fury never came. Jotham tossed his belt onto a deck chair. Without taking his eyes off Hanna, he opened the front door.
“Belinda!” he hollered. “Bring the girl.”
Hanna’s stomach turned to ice. “What did you do?” she said.
Belinda came thundering to the door, half carrying, half pushing Emily down the hall. Tears streamed down Emily’s face, a trickle of blood seeping from her mouth. Jotham grabbed Emily by the arm and pulled her outside. He pushed her against the wall and yanked Emily’s nightdress up to reveal three long welts swelling across her back.
An orange pulse gushed from Hanna’s stomach to her throat. She felt like she might throw up. Hanna wanted to scream. She wanted to take Jotham’s belt and strike him over and over again until he couldn’t stand anymore. Hanna moved toward the girl. She went to put her arms around Emily when Jotham held up his hand.
“She says she knew nothing about you and the boy.”
“So you beat her?” Hanna exclaimed.
Jotham’s eyes were hard like steel. “I sought the truth.”
“Emily didn’t know anything,” Hanna said. “She’s just a little girl.”
A crease formed in Jotham’s brow. Moments passed in agonizing stillness, the only sound Emily’s weak, anguished sobs. Finally, Jotham opened the door and threw Emily inside, and then he slammed it shut with a thud, leaving Hanna and Jotham alone again.
“What were you doing with Francis’s boy?”
“We drove to the city.”
“To run away?”
“No, Father.”
“Then why?”
Hanna swallowed hard. “We went to see a music concert.”
Jotham wheezed. He took a step back and held his hand to his chest. “Where’d you get the money?”
“What money?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, young lady. You know what money. The money the deputy found on you. Have you been stealing from me?”
“No, Father.”
Jotham threw his hands in the air. He pointed at the house. “You see the way we live around here. How can you steal from me when I have so little? When I do everything in my power to provide for you children?”
Hanna turned her eyes down. She would never admit that Kara gave her the money. Jotham could beat her until she breathed her last breath and Hanna would never expose her mother.
“Paul the Second called,” he said. “They told me what happened.”
Hanna pictured the rupture in the sky. The lightning bolts. What had Paul told him?
“They said you were disrespectful and uncooperative. That the Rossiter boy took a swing at Paul and he had to strike him down.”
Hanna’s eyes widened. “Is that all?”
“Is that all!” Jotham bellowed. “Do not stand there and disrespect me the way you disrespected Paul’s sons tonight. When you disrespect the deputies, you disrespect our community. You disrespect our faith. You disrespect me.” His voice swelled. “I am your father! You are honor bound to obey me!”
Jotham stepped face-to-face with her, the liquor clinging to him like a fog. He was sweating profusely, and, though his red face trembled with anger, Hanna saw something brittle in the lines about his eyes, something she’d never seen before.
Fear.
Hanna couldn’t believe it. Jotham was afraid. He was afraid of her running away, afraid of losing his business dealings and living in poverty for the rest of his life, afraid of always being poor.
Jotham lowered his voice. “We will forget this ever happened. I’ve already spoken to Brother Paul. His sons won’t tell anyone about tonight, especially Edwin. And neither will you. The Creator has spoken and his word is true. Three days from now, you will marry Edwin. You will join his family. You will have his babies and you will be a good wife.” Jotham fixed his eyes on Hanna’s chest where her new red dress had soaked through. “And take off that garish frock. You look like a whore.”
He turned to step back inside.
“No,” Hanna said.
Jotham turned back quickly. “What did you say?”
“I said no. I won’t marry Edwin. I wasn’t meant for this.”
“You were meant for this!” His voice boomed.
“I am not!” Hanna cried, the volume of her own voice surprising her. She cast a quick glance upward, hoping for a crack to form in the rain clouds, for the lightning to return, but nothing emerged and Hanna returned her gaze to Jotham. “It’s not your place to sell me off to the highest bidder. It’s not your place to tell me to go make babies when just last year I was a child myself. You didn’t bring me into this world. And you would never dare take me out of it. I fell from the sky!”
Jotham grabbed her shoulders. He shook her hard. “Who told you that? Who said that to you?”
Hanna fell limp in his arms. Jotham was gripping her tighter than ever before. His pores burst with perspiration and he looked like he wanted to shake the very life out of her. Only, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Hanna saw it in his eyes. Jotham was never going to beat Hanna the way he’d beaten Emily. She was Jotham’s one true asset, the only tradable commodity he had in this world. That’s why, for all his threats over the years, for all his menacing words, he’d never hurt her. While the other children received beatings for the slightest perceived offense, Hanna had been untouchable. Jotham wasn’t about to hit her any more than he was about to hit himself.
“Let me go,” she said.
Jotham dug his nails into her arms. He glanced backward for a moment, as though waiting for someone to intervene, so he wouldn’t have to follow through. When no one came, Jotham wheezed. He buckled over, panting. Jotham’s breath caught in his throat. The air rattled his chest. Jotham stumbled and coughed into a rag.
“Are you dying?” Hanna said.
He flashed her a wicked glare.
“You sound like you’re dying.”
“I may very well be. But I’m not dead yet, little girl,” Jotham said.
“If you’re terribly ill, then does any of this really matter?” she said. “Why beat Emily like a dog? Why force me to marry someone three times my age? Couldn’t you use this time to bring something to this family? Love, happiness...anything other than what we have now? We could be happy. There’s no reason for us to live this way.”
As Jotham grasped the door frame for support, Hanna realized how much she meant her words. If he would take Emily into his arms and tend to her wounds, if he’d beg her forgiveness and be a father to her, all would be forgiven. Hanna would
look past what she’d discovered earlier in the day, that Jotham had planned to give her away when she was just a child. She would forgive him for pressuring her to marry Edwin. She would care for him and nurse him back to health and be a daughter to him, if only Jotham would let the past and the future go, and show compassion now. But the look he gave her, the scorn in his ailing eyes, the grimace stuck to his face like a painting warped by years of dry heat—it told her everything she needed to know. There would be no forgiveness. No joining of hearts tonight.
“I’m leaving this house tomorrow,” Hanna said. “I’m going to travel to the city and I’m going to live far away from here. I will not marry Edwin.”
Jotham reached back and grabbed the ledge for support. The sounds of the night became crystal clear: the raindrops colliding against the roof, the wind shaking the trees, Jotham swallowing his breath, Hanna’s beating heart.
“You may leave,” he said.
“Really? And you won’t stop me?”
“How could I?” he said and turned to walk back inside.
Hanna couldn’t believe what he’d said. A warm, wild elation swirled in her chest. She pictured herself leaving Clearhaven behind, The Road stretched out before her like an opportunity, the reflection of the city lights in the bright, glistening water. She would travel to the other side of the world, meet her brave other self face-to-face, join the people who lived free in a hamlet by the bay.
“Thank you,” she said. “Truly, Father, thank you.”
He flashed a callous smile. “You do realize, of course, that Emily will have to take your place.”
Hanna froze. “What do you mean?”
“In three days, Edwin expects to marry one of my daughters and I won’t disappoint him. If you won’t obey your father and serve the will of the Creator, then it’s my responsibility to choose someone to take your place. I choose Emily.”
Hanna scanned the window upstairs but couldn’t find Emily’s face anywhere. She imagined her sister lying on the hallway floor, ice on her bruises, her tears flowing like a river.
Hanna Who Fell from the Sky Page 23
