Pointing to Hannah’s backpack, she rushed out of the room. “Grab that and hurry up, or we’re both going to be late.”
Hannah didn’t care if she was late. She didn’t care about anything these days. Eight years old and already trying to figure out how she could ditch school and stay home instead of going to third grade.
“I bet the Captain wouldn’t make me go to that horrible place every day,” she complained.
Gloria pretended she hadn’t heard her, but Hannah’s words made her smile. Defiant. Stubborn. Always having to have the last word; Hank’s kid through and through! It weighed heavily on her that Hannah hadn’t adjusted to school yet, and Hannah’s sly comments didn’t help ease her conscience. Hannah would make friends and enjoy learning new things soon. Sure, she was having trouble because this move was so close to the last, Gloria told herself, but Hannah will come around. Dragging her out the door by the hand, Gloria couldn’t help but notice Hannah’s big blue eyes were no longer shiny, but dull. Time. The kid just needed time, that’s all!
They walked the same route every day to school, and each afternoon Hannah rode the bus home. The first few times Hannah had boarded the bus, she was scared to death that she’d miss her stop, but the bus driver had kept an eye on her. Sally, a coworker and friend, worked third shift, three days on and two off, lived in the same apartment complex, and always met Hannah at the bus stop to walk her home and let her into the apartment. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Gloria was grateful Hannah wasn’t a typical latchkey kid. At least someone walked her home and checked inside the apartment first.
That afternoon the air on the bus was sticky as they rolled from stop to stop. Hannah laid her head against the cool window, and the muffled sound of the kids chatting faded as she nodded off and soon began dreaming. Struggling to see who was with her, a familiar voice broke through her hazy dream, but whose face did the voice belong to? The cool sand sifted through her feet, and Hannah visualized herself looking down at her feet, digging her toes into the sand. Seagulls were circling and squawking above her, as gentle waves rolled to the shore, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she could smell the distinct odor of the salty sea air. His voice, the Captain’s, was vague, and for a second her heart raced in fear. Was it possible that she was beginning to forget who this person was supposed to be? Her memories, turned into reoccurring dreams, were familiar and comforting, and for the first time it occurred to the kid standing on the beach that she needed this never-ending dream. Startled as the bus driver gently shook her shoulder and woke her up, Hannah struggled to regain her surroundings and catch her breath.
“Wake up, sleepyhead; Hannah, you almost missed your stop.”
Without saying a word, she gathered her things and walked toward the front of the bus. Sally stood nervously wondering what was taking so long for Hannah to appear; the relief she felt when the mass of blond hair suddenly walked toward her was written all over her face.
“Fell fast asleep, this one,” the bus driver grinned. “I had to wake her up.”
“Thank you! I appreciate you looking out for her, and so will her mother.”
“No problem. Hannah, you go to bed early!”
They waited for the bus to pull away before walking home. Sally let her into the apartment, gave her a snack, and locked the door behind her. Gloria arrived shortly after, but Hannah couldn’t have possibly been prepared for the news her mom delivered that evening. Nervously Gloria set her keys down on the hall table, walked into the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of wine. Slamming down half of it immediately, trying to calm her nerves, she sat down just as Hannah ran into the kitchen to greet her. Rambling about her day, how she fell asleep on the bus, and how she was starving, Gloria raised her hand and interrupted her daughter.
“Hannah, please, stop for just a minute.”
“But it was the weirdest thing, Momma, I was on the beach and then the bus driver was shaking me, and I couldn’t remember where I was, and what are we having for dinner?”
“HANNAH!” Gloria snapped. “Please, stop talking!”
Stunned, Hannah stared at her mom, who was visibly shaking. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Gloria’s hands reached for Hannah’s, and though she held her daughter’s hand tightly in hers to steady herself, Hannah could feel her mom’s hands trembling.
“What’s going on?”
Taking a deep breath, tears filling her eyes, Gloria tried to explain. “I received a phone call today at work.”
“Who was it?”
“Your daddy did not recover from his injuries; he has passed.”
All of the color rushed from Hannah’s face. She had heard those words somewhere before, but what exactly did they mean? “What is that? Passed?”
Gloria took a swallow, not a sip, of wine. “Like Uncle Nathan, sweetheart. He’s joined Uncle Nathan.”
“But Uncle Nathan’s gone!” Hannah yelled, tears forming in her eyes. “Daddy’s gone?” Her heart was racing and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t see him.” She pulled her hand out of Gloria’s. “You said I could see him!”
“Sweetheart, he was hurt during the fight. You couldn’t see him.” Gloria’s voice cracked, her heart was in her throat, and she tried to grab her daughter to hold her, but she fought against her touch. “He loves you so much; loved you so, so, so much!”
Burying her hands in her face, dropping to the floor, Hannah sobbed uncontrollably. Every time Gloria reached out to hold her, Hannah pulled away. It killed her seeing her daughter in such a state, and whispering how much her daddy loved her didn’t ease the pain her daughter felt. Hannah’s sobs turned into wails, and she barely could catch her breath.
“I want my daddy; the Captain can’t be gone, he’s a pirate!”
Gloria held steady as best she could. “You’ll be home from school for a few days. It will take time, but you will heal, and have fabulous memories of your daddy, and the Captain.”
Hannah jumped to her feet, ran to her room, and grabbed the conch shell that her daddy had given to her. Placing it next to her ear, she sobbed herself to sleep.
A few days later the argument with Hannah and going to school started all over again! This time Hannah was defiant and her eyes were empty.
“I hate that place; it’s dumb!”
“It’s an elementary school, Hannah. Have fun. Make friends. Enjoy yourself. You’ve got a long way to go!”
Kissing Hannah on top of her head, Gloria said her goodbyes and left her standing helplessly in front of the line teacher. She’ll adjust, the teacher said. Just takes a minute. During recess, Hannah organized a group of kids into a pirate crew. Bossing them around, she gave each of the kids chores on her ship.
“You can be the boatswain; check all our supplies.”
“But I was that last time. I want to be the Captain.”
“You can’t be the captain. I’m the Captain!” Moving right along, she pointed to a red-headed little girl with big green eyes. “You can swab the deck.”
“Oh, brother—again?”
“Always complaining. Yes, again. Ships have to be clean; it’s a pirate rule.”
“Well, I’m going to the crow’s nest to look for other pirate ships,” a little boy named Seth chimed in. “And I don’t care what you say, Captain or not.”
Hannah looked at another blond-haired girl standing next to Seth. She wasn’t offering anything up, and Hannah didn’t think she seemed interested in playing the game at all. She was right. “I’m tired of this game. Can’t we play family instead?”
“That’s a dumb game!” Hannah insisted. “Who wants to play baby games when we can play pirate games?”
“I don’t like this game anymore either; you’re always the Captain.”
“Cause it’s my game; of course I’m the Captain.”
“It’s a stupid game,” David Moore said in a snarky tone. “Let’s play war. I want to be in the Army, like my dad.”
“It is not a stupid game
!” Hannah snapped. “You’re stupid!”
“I’ll only play if I’m Captain. You’re always Captain and never let anyone else play.”
“You can’t be the Captain!” Hannah yelled. “I’m the only one who can be the Captain; it’s my game. Besides, you don’t even know how to be a Captain!”
“That’s dumb. It’s not your game; it’s just a game.”
“You’re dumb!” She waved her pretend sword in his face. “And if you don’t stop asking to be Captain, I’ll make you a prisoner instead of a pirate ’cause you’re so dumb!”
“You can’t make me a prisoner if I’m not playing!” He turned his back on her. “And I’m not playing this dumb game anymore. It’s stupid!” David turned to the others. “Do you want to play Army?”
And that was that! Most of her pirates quit, and the rest Hannah fired from their posts for being rebellious. Hannah decided she didn’t want to play with any of them anyhow. She hated that school, and she refused to join in their games when the teacher noticed what was going on and attempted to mend the bridge between them all. Hannah happily alienated herself from all of the other kids and took refuge in the comfort of her own head.
After recess, the kids went back to their classroom and sat in a circle. Disgusted with her classmates, Hannah sat outside of the group, and each day she purposely isolated herself a little bit more from the things that the other students were asked to do. When the teacher called out her name, twice, Hannah jumped. Lost in daydreams or her memories? It was apparent, even to Hannah, that she couldn’t decipher what they were anymore; real memories or beautiful dreams, it didn’t matter. Being anywhere, imaginary or not, was better than where she currently sat.
“Hannah, would you please join us?” the teacher asked sweetly.
Hannah froze. Join them where… in front of the class with those two other kids?
“No,” she replied firmly.
“I’d really like you to stand by me, if you don’t mind.”
She did mind, very much so; no one wanted to be stared at. Hannah shook her head as her cheeks burned bright red.
The teacher walked over to Hannah, reached down for her hand, and tried to pull her gently to her feet. Hannah tugged her hand out of the teachers grasp, but the teacher continued to tug and try to coax her to join them.
“I promise it will be fun.”
There was nothing about being stared at by a huge class that resembled fun! Hannah continued to refuse and was about to burst into tears. Recognizing that Hannah wasn’t going to budge, the teacher smiled, gave her a hug, and moved on to the next child. Hannah never once looked anywhere but at her feet.
The bus ride home didn’t bring Hannah the usual daydreaming escape that she quite enjoyed. About to experience her first bout of public anxiety, Hannah suddenly felt confined, as if she were stuck in a giant tube, and she struggled to get enough air into her lungs. Her palms became sweaty, and so did her brow. She needed fresh air and to get off of that bus! Her heart was racing, and she burst into tears. As soon as the bus pulled up to her stop, she bolted toward the door and leaped off the step into Sally’s arms. Having no idea how to describe what was wrong, Hannah continued to struggle to breathe. It took less than a few seconds for Sally to recognize something wasn’t right.
“What’s wrong?” Hannah could barely talk. “Just calm down. Deep breaths. Breathe in and out. In and out,” Sally instructed. “It’s okay. Breathe. Just breathe. In and out, in and out, look at me.”
Focusing on Sally’s voice, locking eyes with her mom’s friend, Hannah’s breathing returned to normal. Her heart quit racing and feeling as if it were about to jump out of her chest. Sally tried to explain to Hannah that she thought she’d experienced a panic attack, and promised to talk to her mom about it as soon as she got home. Not understanding, but feeling weird, Hannah wanted to go straight to her room.
“Not yet. Eat this PB&J and drink this milk first. I’ll wait for your mom. Okay?”
Embarrassed, Hannah nodded as she nibbled on the sandwich. Excusing herself from the table, she ran down the hallway to her room. Catching sight of her conch shell that sat on her bookshelf, she walked over to it and held in her hands. Placing it against her ear, she listened as the sound of the ocean swirled around and around the shell. It immediately brought her comfort. Grabbing her favorite book, she flopped down on her bed, the shell still placed against her ear. Hannah never once opened the book, but held it close to her chest. Struggling to see the image of the Captain’s face, she desperately willed herself to remember him. His voice seemed stronger than ever as it echoed in her head. Straining to visualize him in her mind’s eye, she allowed herself to disappear in her head.
“Watch from the starboard, Matey.”
His gruff voice clearly instructed her, and for that comfort she was grateful. Squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she could, she listened for his voice again. She couldn’t hear him at first, but the sound of the sea in the shell gave her hope that it would return. Straining to listen to him again, she patiently waited. Casting her thoughts to her time aboard ship, her old bed in her old room, she listened for his voice to return and, to her relief, it finally broke through.
“Batten down. Storm’s a-brewing!”
She watched herself running on deck. Her blond hair whipping across her face, because yes, the winds were getting stronger and the waves indeed were lashing over the side of the ship! Her hand reached up and brushed her hair to one side while the other hand grabbed a thick rope to secure the hatches. The Captain smiled at her, and she smiled back, knowing she’d made him proud. He pulled out his telescope, looked through it, and then handed it to her. At one point he bent down and scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder and throwing her on the bed. Bed? What?! Surely it was a ship; it must have been the bed in the cabin. Forcing herself to drift off, she watched herself place one hand on top of the other as she climbed the rope ladder to the crows’ nest; storm’s a-coming, they needed to prepare.
Her bedtime stories that had turned into games became more and more extravagant in her head as she added details to keep her dreams going. She couldn’t remember the exact way that her daddy, Hank, had acted it out with her, and that mortified her. By the time Gloria came home and walked into her bedroom, Hannah was fast asleep.
Why did such a beautiful child have to deal with so much? Surely Hannah’s panic or anxiety attack was a result of the decisions that Gloria had made over the past few months. Doubting herself and her decisions—all of the moves, not taking Hannah to visit Hank in prison, the different schools—made her wonder if she had brought this on Hannah. Every decision Gloria had made, she thought, was to protect her daughter, and now she felt as if she’d done the complete opposite. Sally laid a hand on Gloria’s shoulder and, as if reading her mind, reassured her that she had done the best that she could, but Gloria felt like a terrible mom. Guilt, regret, remorse, anger, and sadness consumed her.
“She’s going to be fine; it was a panic attack, and kids outgrow those all the time.” Handing her a glass of wine, Sally pointed toward the living room. “Let’s sit a while. You need a break as well.”
“I hope so, Sally!” Gloria kissed Hannah, covered her up, and closed her bedroom door. “You’re right, it’s going to be fine. I’ll get her through this; she’s going be all right. She has to be!”
Chapter 10
Not Again
Don’t make me go, let me hide!
I’d rather hide or flat-out die
I hate it there, can’t you see?
No one there is quite like me!
~ Hannah Gunner ~
“Now, about this school thing you keep making me do. Can we talk about that?”
“What is there to talk about? Every kid goes to school; it’s the law.”
“But I’m not a kid,” Hannah smirked.
“Oh really!” Gloria snapped jokingly. “And what exactly are you?”
She was about to say a First Matey, but remind
ed herself that her mom was a pirate hater, so went with the big kid thing that her mom had been going on and on about.
“You said I was a young lady, and that’s not a kid, and young ladies don’t go to school with third graders.”
“Look, tomorrow will be better, and the day after that will be better than the day before, and so on and so on. I promise. You just need to adapt, that’s all. School is fun!”
Gloria couldn’t have been more wrong and was shocked when she received a phone call demanding that she attend a parent teacher-conference concerning her child. She sat opposite the teacher, perched in a chair that was too small for any adult. Ms. Davis introduced herself and sat on a tabletop in front of her.
“I apologize about the chair. Would you like mine?”
Gloria shook her head. “I’m fine. Really.”
Ms. Davis got straight to the point. It had been months since school had started and Hannah didn’t fit in with the others at all; worse, she was making no attempt to try and acted as if that was fine by her. Isolation didn’t seem to affect Hannah, and that was concerning to Ms. Davis and the other school officials. It was as if she purposely isolated herself from everyone at any given opportunity. She wouldn’t participate in any group projects or even try. She refused to answer questions out loud, join in fun activities inside or outside, or participate in anything that involved group activities.
“Mrs. Gunner, it’s unusual for a child this age to respond in such a way. Usually they enjoy at least some interaction with their peers.”
“Is there anything she likes to do at school? Subjects, recess, lunch, anything?” Concerned, though not surprised, Gloria persisted in her line of questioning. “It hasn’t been easy for her lately, but there must be something she enjoys. She’s eight, for crying out loud, just a kid.” Softening her voice, she apologized. “I’m not upset with you; I’m sorry, but I am worried about Hannah.”
“I understand; we’re all concerned. Hannah seems to enjoy art; she plays well outside, though mostly by herself these days, loves that pirate game, and I’m sure she must play it at home. She participates in P.E. but doesn’t seem to enjoy it, and we think it’s because she’s forced to be a part of whatever the class is doing.”
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