Finally an exhausted Hannah lay down on the sofa. Of course she couldn’t sleep. Not when Selena and Anna were whispering about her upstairs in her room.
“Do you think Hannah really believes she hears things?” Selena asked.
“I don’t know,” Anna said.
“I think she’s just trying to get attention,” Selena said.
“When we were outside, she said Ruth would make the branch of that red bush wave,” Anna remembered.
“That is crazy,” Selena said.
“I know,” Anna agreed.
“She used to be so smart,” Selena said.
Hannah whimpered a little as she wondered whether Selena was right.
You are smart, I told her. I wanted to make her feel better. You’re smart and good and a wonderful friend.
Only we both knew that what I thought hardly mattered. Not while her family was there to make her so miserable.
I wished there was some way to get her away from them. Unfortunately the opposite was going to happen. Sooner or later they would take Hannah away from me. Sooner or later Hannah would drive off with the ones who hated her. And I would be left alone again.
I didn’t think I could bear that. I would do anything to keep that from happening.
And then I had an idea of how I could keep Hannah with me.
Ruth? What’s going on?
It was such a strong idea that I couldn’t think about it near her. I left the room.
I went outside. Bats circled the hemlock trees, darting back and forth across the property line. I tried to go with them. Just to see.
I couldn’t, of course. Only maybe it wouldn’t matter that I couldn’t leave. Maybe soon.
If I could.
If Hannah would agree.
Or if Hannah wouldn’t know.
Was it right? Or was it wrong? Did it matter? It was the only way.
The house on Hemlock Road was dark except for a light in Selena’s room. What was going on in there?
The parents were cleaning up. They had changed their minds about making Hannah do it. Mrs. Zimmer put clothes in a big plastic bag. Mr. Zimmer’s broom swished across the floor. It wasn’t a comforting sound. He had tied a scarf over his mouth. He looked like a thief. In fact, he had decided to steal something from me—my friend.
“We can’t stay in the house another night.” He banged the broom against the floor. A cloud of dust swirled around his head. He didn’t realize it was a larger cloud than it should have been.
“We can’t live in the new house. There’s no plumbing,” she said.
“We’ll go to a motel.”
“Can we afford it?”
“Can we afford not to? We have to get Hannah away from here before she really goes crazy.”
“Are you blaming the house?”
“Of course not. I don’t know. Maybe we haven’t been firm enough with her. Or with any of them. The point is we can’t stay here.”
“Okay. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? That was so soon. There was no time to consider. I would have only one chance to save Hannah—and myself.
The moon began to sink behind the house on Hemlock Road.
In just a few hours, the sun would rise. The day would come. And Hannah would go. Unless …
Was it time?
The dust had settled in Selena’s room. The hole in the ceiling seemed like an entryway to another world. It wasn’t.
A mouse peeped around the edge of the door and then ran away.
The mice would miss the Zimmers—after the food was gone.
Tiny red lights blinked in the biggest bedroom. Would Mr. and Mrs. Zimmer think that was a warning? Oh no. They would have been comforted to know their electric contraptions were still working. That didn’t keep them awake. They dreamed their dreams, buried by blankets. Mr. Zimmer battled a brown tornado with a broom. Mrs. Zimmer made the twins adorable outfits. In her dream, the girls were identical.
Didn’t she know that Hannah was nothing like Anna?
Someone had pulled Hannah’s mattress on the floor. Naturally Selena wouldn’t have wanted to sleep so close to the attic. Her golden hair was spread across her pillow. Her lips were slightly parted. She breathed the name Marcus. She was a tempting target.
So was Anna, who clutched the red-shopping-bag book as if it were a life preserver. It wouldn’t save her. She would be sorry. Oh yes. For now, she slept. She dreamed she had to visit Hannah in a hospital.
I knew that would never happen.
Down the steps, past the hall tree mirror, into the living room, where Hannah tossed and turned on the sofa.
Her sleep wasn’t deep enough for dreams.
I blew gently on her cheek. She thought it was a bug to brush away. I blew again. Now she was awake. She pulled the blanket over her head and uncovered her feet.
Do you want to know what happened to me?
Her eyes popped open. Yes.
She was thinking that if she found out, then she could help me be happy.
She would make me happy. She just didn’t know how—yet.
It was all Mildred’s fault.
Hannah nodded. She knew what older sisters could do.
She had an orange fluffy cat. It didn’t like me. It never let me hold it. Mildred said I didn’t know how. I got my own pet—a mouse with a bent leg. I named him Whiskers. He let me stroke his fur. One day the cat chased him into Mildred’s closet. And killed him.
Mildred didn’t save him?
I knew Hannah would understand.
Then what happened, Ruth?
I went in the closet. I carved Mildred’s name on the door so everyone would know she let Whiskers die. I wanted her to suffer, so I cut up all her dresses.
Did you get in trouble?
They took all my books except The Story of the Treasure Seekers. I had hidden it in the attic.
So what happened to you?
That was harder to say.
I’ll show you.
How?
Come outside with me.
Now?
Now.
The blanket slipped from around her shoulders as she tiptoed to the door. She turned the knob.
Let the door not squeak.
Let the night be still.
She danced across the grass. The dew must have felt cold on her bare feet. She shivered. She hurried toward the road.
Not that way. Mildred went across the driveway, with her beau. So I snuck around the back.
Hannah came with me past the chokeberry bush and past the ash tree where the cat had climbed.
Let the cats be quiet. Let them stalk in silence. Let them hunt their own prey.
Let Hannah find the way to be with me. Forever.
Where were you going? Hannah thought.
To spy on the lovebirds.
Why?
So I could tell my father what they did. Then he would punish her.
We passed the garden of weeds. When we reached the top of the ditch, we stopped. The moon seemed to be sinking into the golden grass.
I saw them over there, not far from the road, on the opposite side of the pond.
What pond? Hannah was puzzled.
The field was a pond then.
Before.
Let her not ask why.
Mildred and her beau were sitting together on the ground.
Did you hide by those rocks?
Hannah ran down into the ditch, where I couldn’t go. She crossed the path, where Lieutenant Maplethorpe paced back and forth defending his property. Back and forth, day after day, still fighting his war.
I couldn’t hide. Mildred saw me. She pointed and said, “Look out! The enemy approaches!”
Hannah ran up the other side of the ditch.
It was about to happen. She wasn’t far from the great gray rocks where the soldier had hidden himself. She ran toward the place.
Her nightgown was so white in the moonlight. She seemed to float above the ground. Like she was already a
ghost.
Like she was the girl behind the glass.
Then she would be stuck—with me. She couldn’t leave, couldn’t live, could never be loved.
I knew full well how horribly she would suffer.
What was I doing? I loved Hannah. It was wrong to want her to be with me. It was selfish.
I had to stop her. But how? I couldn’t cross the ditch.
Hannah was close to the yellow field. When she got there, she would fall in because it wasn’t grass. It was a foul black swamp.
And when she tried to scream, water would fill her open mouth, just as it had done to mine all those years ago.
She reached the edge.
Hannah, wait!
She didn’t stop. She walked into the grass. Why wasn’t she listening to me?
Someone had to help her. Someone had to save her. Someone had to hear me.
But who?
I had to get help, even though that meant leaving Hannah.
I hurried back to the house. Anna was still asleep in her bed. Only now she dreamed that she wandered the halls of the hospital, looking for Hannah.
Wake up, wake up.
I blew on Anna’s face.
She groaned and rolled over.
Save her!
She opened one eye.
You have to hear me now. You have to.
She wouldn’t listen. She never had before.
Get up. Look out the window. Save Hannah.
Anna thought this was another dream—a bad one. I had to make her understand.
If you don’t, Hannah will become Ruth.
Anna sat up. She jumped out of bed and stepped over Selena.
She’s sinking in the muck.
Anna ran to the window. She saw a white shape in the dark field. She saw one arm wave and then disappear.
I was too late. Anna had been too stubborn. Now she was too slow.
Anna screamed, “Wake up, wake up! Hannah’s in trouble!”
She ran down the stairs, out the door, and across the yard.
I didn’t wait to watch the parents get up. I rushed back to the edge.
Hannah was sinking. The muck blackened the nightgown. It pulled her down and down through the earth. The dark would get darker than any night she had ever known. She was so scared. Just like I had been when I had clutched at the water. I had nothing to hold on to. So I felt life slip from my grasp.
Anna ran down the ditch and up the other side. She stopped at the part that was still solid ground. She reached toward her sister. Hannah’s arms flailed. Black drops splattered across Anna’s face.
Anna’s arms were too short. She leaned closer. She got hold of Hannah’s hand. Then Anna slipped. She was sinking too. Hannah was dragging her down.
Somehow Anna scrambled back to solid ground. She pulled Hannah out of the muck.
The sisters lay side by side on the ground. Anna’s chest heaved as she struggled to get her breath back. But Hannah was frighteningly still.
Mr. Zimmer came running. He stuck his fingers into Hannah’s mouth. He cleared out a glob of muck. He bent over and breathed into her. He thought how he would give her his life if he could. He breathed and breathed again and again. Finally Hannah coughed and spluttered.
Mrs. Zimmer and Selena came. “The ambulance is on its way,” Mrs. Zimmer said.
Mr. Zimmer picked Hannah up in his arms. Mrs. Zimmer brushed the hair back from Hannah’s face. Selena hugged Anna. They all walked to the front of the house. The siren got closer and closer.
“How did you know she was out there?” Mrs. Zimmer asked Anna.
“I just knew because …” Anna paused.
Would she say it? Would she admit it?
“Ruth told me,” Anna said.
Mrs. Zimmer hugged Anna tight. She thought she must keep her other daughter from slipping into madness. She said, “We’re leaving this house tonight.”
The ambulance arrived. The men put Hannah on a cot and wheeled it into the back. Mrs. Zimmer got in with her. The doors slammed shut. The red light whirled and the siren wailed as the ambulance took away my Hannah.
Mr. Zimmer packed a few things in a little suitcase. Then he and the girls got in the car. “You saved your sister,” Mr. Zimmer said to Anna.
“I already told you it was Ruth,” Anna said.
He shook his head and started the engine.
I howled as the car drove off toward the pink sky that was just barely visible beyond the hemlock trees.
Yes, I had saved Hannah. But no one had saved me.
Saving Hannah was the right thing to do.
But it didn’t make me happy.
The worst part was not knowing if she was really all right.
After all, an ambulance had taken Miz D to the hospital and she had died.
I thought I would know if Hannah had crossed over. Then I realized. She would have gone to some other, better world. Where I would never be allowed to go because I still couldn’t leave this place on Hemlock Road.
Now that I had selfishly wanted to keep Hannah, I didn’t think I ever would.
Days passed. The nights got darker because the moon got smaller.
Why didn’t the Zimmers come back? Were they just going to leave their belongings? Even if Selena wouldn’t want her filthy clothes, what about the others?
The mice were thrilled. They gorged on the food. The spiders constructed elaborate webs across doorways where no one ever walked.
And what did I do? What could I do? My precious book was stuck behind the bunk beds. I couldn’t even console myself with the Bastable children. I clung to my memory of the day Hannah and I had read it together. I tried to keep anger from rising up and ruining everything.
Oh, it was terrible. I waited by the front door. I watched for the family to return. Each car that passed took away a part of me.
Hoping hurt.
Then one morning the silver car turned into the driveway. I didn’t know what day it was. I had lost track. It didn’t matter. Who was in the car? It was hard to see. Mr. Zimmer drove. Mrs. Zimmer sat next to him. Selena was in the back. Next to her was Anna. Where was Hannah?
“Let’s get this over with,” Mr. Zimmer said.
All four jumped out of the car. They were thinking of what to pack now, what could come later.
Then Hannah got out.
Hannah! Are you all right?
She nodded. She was trying not to think bad thoughts, but the house horrified her.
I followed her inside. I had so much to tell her. So much I wanted to find out. I rambled on about mice and spiders until she found the book behind the bed. She held it out in front of her. Where should I put it? Would it be easier to read if I took the pages apart?
Then I understood. She wanted to do something kind for me before she left—forever.
No!
I didn’t want this. I couldn’t bear this. I wasn’t brave enough to say good-bye.
I went outside. I didn’t want to watch the packing. I could hear their voices as I paced back and forth under the hemlock trees.
Mr. Zimmer said, “Hurry.”
Mrs. Zimmer said, “I can’t find my scissors.”
Selena said, “I’ll have to get a whole new wardrobe.”
Anna said, “Should I help you pack, Hannah?”
Hannah said nothing at all.
Another car stopped behind the Zimmers’ car. It was red. That should have been a warning.
Emily got out. “I hope whatever you have to do here won’t take long. Saturdays are very busy for us. Lydia has flute at twelve, French at one-thirty, and her therapist at three.”
A girl slumped in the backseat on the driver’s side, chewing viciously on her thumbnail. The door on the right rear side opened. A cane waved in the air. Emily came around and pulled someone’s arm.
A very old woman stood hunched over a cane, teetering on the uneven ground. She tilted her head to stare at the house on Hemlock Road.
“Here it is. After nearly eighty ye
ars,” she said.
It was Mildred.
Mildred’s soft pretty skin sagged in wrinkles. Her long blond hair was twisted into a small white bun. Her fingers were bent like claws. Her back was humped. Her blue eyes blinked behind thick glasses. She was a very old person. Why, she must have been nearly ninety-five.
I wasn’t.
I could never grow older.
Mildred hobbled across the driveway, around the house.
“Where are you going, Grandmother?” Emily said.
“To the pond.” Mildred’s words caught in her throat. She hurried a little, as if she were still trying to keep me from following her. She stopped when she reached the backyard. “Where is it?” She shook her cane at Emily. “What happened to the pond?”
Mildred knew perfectly well what had happened.
Even if she hadn’t been there, she must have heard how the Maplethorpes filled it in, how they moved their son away so they could pretend like nothing had ever happened, like no one had ever died.
“You told me that little girl nearly drowned here,” Mildred said.
“It’s a swamp. You can drown in a swamp. Anyway, she didn’t,” Emily said.
Someone else did. Would Mildred admit that? It was hard to tell what that old brain thought. She wobbled, until Emily grabbed hold of her to steady her.
“Are you all right?” Emily said.
Mildred shook her head. Tears flooded her face.
Emily found a handkerchief in her purse and blotted Mildred’s withered cheeks. “Now, now, Grandmother.”
She didn’t weep like the young Mildred would have, daintily dabbing at her eyes. This old Mildred sobbed.
“What’s the matter with her?” Lydia said.
Emily awkwardly patted Mildred’s shoulder. “She gets this way. The staff at the care center don’t know why.”
“Because I’m dying,” Mildred spluttered. “I’m dying, and I’m scared.”
She was scared to meet me. As well she should be.
“You aren’t dying today,” Lydia said.
“I thought about it. I thought if I went in the pond, that would put an end to it,” Mildred said.
“Oh, Grandmother, what a thing to say. Is that why you wanted me to bring you here? We’re leaving right now.” Emily was shocked.
“An end to what?” Lydia said.
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