Hidden Dreams

by Darlene Franklin

  The memory of the dismay on Mary Anne’s face when he asked her about the colored pencils she had picked with obvious care shook him. He wished he could convince the publisher to use color.

  The publisher said no one would buy such an expensive book. Would anyone buy it, no matter what the cost, aside from a few Audubon enthusiasts? The editor suggested offering the colored sketches as prints, but Wallace doubted anyone would be interested.

  His enthusiasm for the book disappeared along with Mary Anne.

  Without her, he might never finish Endangered Birds of Northern Vermont.

  Chapter 15

  When Aunt Flo first used the fourteenth chapter of Exodus as practice reading material, Mary Anne couldn’t understand why she gave her such challenging verses. Next she asked Mary Anne to put the chapter into her own words. Aside from spelling, that wasn’t hard. She knew the story well from Sunday school, and all she had to do was to add information not usually mentioned in children’s classes.

  After that session, Aunt Flo laid down a challenge. “The seminary’s annual scripture contest is coming up in two weeks, on October 16.”

  “Yes, of course.” Mary Anne nodded. The girls had talked about little else since the beginning of the school year. Winning brought great prestige with it.

  “Of course I want to see you take part in the memory contest. Our townspeople will find your retention of God’s Word as inspiring as I do, I’m sure.”

  Mary Anne fidgeted a little. “But I don’t attend the seminary.”

  Aunt Flo waved her concern away. “I have an even greater challenge for you. I want you to read, too, and the chapter you just read is the assigned passage.”

  Read? Mary Anne would have laughed out loud if not for the serious expression on Aunt Flo’s face.

  They practiced it again the next night, and the next, every day for a week, reading the verses out of order, probing into the feelings of Moses and the Israelites.

  Mary Anne loved the story of crossing the Red Sea, once she got past place names like Pihahiroth and Baalzephon and unusual verbs like spake and encamp. As Mary Anne read, she felt as if she was acting out all the scenes and lines. Aunt Flo had warned her against memorizing the verses, but Mary Anne decided the rule didn’t apply to memorizing the pronunciations. She prayed she made it from beginning to end without stumbling too badly.

  By the end of the last session, Aunt Flo said, “You’ll do.” A giveaway twinkle in her eyes indicated her silent approval. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and closed her Bible. “You do know, of course, that since I am one of the judges, I will expect more from you. No one else has private tutoring sessions.” Aunt Flo used her iron voice.

  Now competition Sunday had arrived. Mary Anne took her place between students and professors, her family Bible clutched tight in her hands.

  * * *

  Wallace sat with the family in their pew at the Maple Notch Community Church. On the second Sunday of October, the church hosted the annual scripture reading and memory contest sponsored by the seminary.

  “You’ll be glad you came. You might be surprised at what you see.” Winnie had winked at him with her remark. Did she expect to win? She was bright enough, but she didn’t share Aunt Flo’s passion for academics. If participation wasn’t required of all students, Winnie might not take part.

  Competition Sunday had evolved into an all-day event over the years. A community dinner followed morning worship. The competition began after the meal and continued until both winners were declared, with a break for the evening meal if necessary.

  The organist began playing “Lead On, O King Eternal.” The back door opened, and the congregation stood to watch the processional. The girls came in two by two, wearing matching jumpers of blue and green plaid with white cotton blouses. Winnie had added a red ribbon to her dark hair to set herself apart. Behind the students came the teachers.

  Aunt Flo and Mary Anne marched at the end of the line. Mary Anne? Wallace’s mind raced with possibilities. Even with her hair in a brown bun and wearing a simple blue skirt and white sweater, she stood out like a blue jay among a flock of sparrows. She sailed past the family pew without a single glance in his direction, but he dared to dream that the heightened color in her cheeks indicated her awareness of him.

  After the girls sat in the choir rows, Aunt Flo stood behind the pulpit. After a few words of introduction, she explained the format for the competition. “The memory contest works much like a spelling bee. The first time a girl is unable to complete a verse, she sits. The last one standing from each class is the winner of that division. The last one standing in the competition wins the overall title.”

  As the girls formed lines at the front of the platform, Flo continued speaking. “This year we are privileged to have a unique competitor. Although this woman is not a student, she has agreed to take part. She will join the competition on an equal level with our students. Please join me in welcoming Miss Mary Anne Laurents.”

  Wallace couldn’t restrain the grin that spread across his face. He wanted to stand and cheer. Instead, he joined in the enthusiastic clapping. She’d win; the other girls didn’t stand a chance.

  One of the first year students stuttered so badly Aunt Flo invited her to sit. She looked grateful as she ran back to her chair, but she’d improve by next year. Aunt Flo would see to it.

  Winnie’s spot came at the end of the second-year students. “‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’” She finished the psalm her class had quoted verse by verse. Each class recited a different passage, a verse at a time.

  After Winnie, Wallace had to wait through three dozen more girls before Mary Anne’s turn came. A serious expression on her face, she started with the reference. “Romans 8:1.”

  * * *

  Mary Anne was glad she came after the girls who were preparing for university. She was close to them in age, but she would have been embarrassed to stand with the girls younger than Winnie.

  The first time through lasted a long time. What if she became nervous and forgot a word? By the third time through, three girls had returned to their seats. As the sixth round started, the girls were asked to quote two verses at a time. “‘For to be carnally minded is death...’”

  Over the next five rounds, the group cut in half. After ten rounds, they were asked to quote three verses. “‘The Spirit itself beareth witness...’” After that, the numbers quickly dwindled. By the time Mary Anne reached the last three verses of the chapter, only one competitor remained. “‘...shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’” Mary Anne repeated the words with great conviction. If she hadn’t known the truth of that statement before she came to Maple Notch, she knew it now.

  Her one remaining competitor, Shirley Baston, a post-secondary school student destined for the mission field, turned to verses from the tenth chapter of Romans. “How shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard?” She finished the passage with a flourish, her feet bouncing like the beautiful feet Paul described. Her smile held a hint of triumph when she looked at Mary Anne.

  If Shirley thought Mary Anne couldn’t continue with Romans 9 after finishing the previous chapter, she was wrong. “‘I say the truth in Christ, I lie not...’”

  Mary Anne thought she heard a cricket chirping in the silence that greeted her recitation. Spontaneous clapping broke out across the congregation, and Wallace surged to his feet. Heat flaming in her cheeks, she took her spot behind Shirley, who clapped along with the rest. Leaning forward, she said in a low voice no one else could hear, “Well done. I will not compete with a woman so blessed of the Lord.”

  Shirley shook Mary Anne’s hand, gestured for Aunt Flo to join them and took her place behind the pulpit. The congregation quieted down.
“I concede the competition to this amazing woman of God. May she continue to bless the people of Maple Notch for many years to come.”

  That brought the room to their feet again, and Aunt Flo shook Mary Anne’s hand. “Congratulations.” She handed Mary Anne a slender, soft calf leather-bound Bible she had spied in the office yesterday. “We will have your name stenciled on the cover, now that we know who the winner is. I hope you will honor us by reading from this copy of God’s Word in the upcoming competition.”

  Taking the Bible in her hands, Mary Anne fled to her seat next to the teachers, wondering how she would handle the next battle. Reading a few words from the story of Moses and the Red Sea might seem easy to some folks, compared to quoting chapters of the Bible, but not for Mary Anne. Never for her.

  Once again, Aunt Flo explained the rules. For this competition, the professors competed against each other. Each woman would read the same passage of scripture. The pastor and Clarinda, both trustees of the school, along with Aunt Flo, would judge the reading based on accuracy, clarity and expression.

  Mary Anne listened to the readers with interest. Mademoiselle DePaul read with a distinct French accent that hindered Mary Anne from understanding some of the words. Her pronunciation was off, but she read with a flourish that made the chapter fun.

  The gymnasium instructor, Miss Barber, read the verses in her straightforward manner, each word clearly enunciated but about as exciting as her lectures on girls’ health.

  Mary Anne’s stomach twisted as her turn approached. Aunt Flo had placed the silk bookmark at the correct place and she breathed a silent thanks. She didn’t want to fumble through the Bible as if she didn’t know her way around. Looking across the audience, she took comfort from the smiles and expectant looks on faces. A beaming Wallace leaned forward, eager to hear her.

  She swallowed. She couldn’t let down the people who counted on her. Aunt Flo—the Lord—Wallace. What would it be like to read the Bible together someday? To their children?

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. Let the congregation think her nervousness caused it. Before long, the exciting story of God’s miraculous deliverance caught her in the narrative and bubbled in her voice. Oh, to have been a fish in that wall of water on either side of dry land as the people of Israel walked through. Whenever she read about the waves crashing over Pharaoh and his chariots, her voice dropped.

  By the time she reached the end of the chapter, she couldn’t tell if she had mixed up any words or said them wrong. The story had carried her along.

  Catching her breath, she dared to look at Wallace, who nodded, a private message between the two of them. She closed her Bible, said “Amen,” and returned to her chair.

  * * *

  Wallace raised half out of his seat before Clarinda tugged him back down. “Don’t embarrass her,” she whispered.

  If he hadn’t heard Mary Anne’s awkward reading of the last Elson Reader primer after a single week of lessons, he never would have believed it possible. Even now, he could scarcely believe his ears. She read from Exodus as if she was a Shakespearean actress.

  Restraining his enthusiasm, Wallace paid attention to the final three readers. Two of the teachers read with some skill, but only the English teacher came close to matching Mary Anne’s rendition. Her first year as a teacher came during Wallace’s last year of high school, and she had won the contest every year since.

  After everyone finished, the audience stood and clapped. The teacher waited in line, Mary Anne with them, her head bowed modestly, the new Bible clutched in her hands. Aunt Flo invited them to sit while the judges conferred.

  As far as Wallace was concerned, Mary Anne should win the competition, but he acknowledged his prejudice. A couple of mispronounced words would count against her, but he didn’t understand the judging system. The audience grew restless while the three judges lingered over reaching a decision. Murmured conversations took over the sanctuary.

  Clarinda touched Wallace on the arm, an understanding smile lighting her face. She nodded in the direction of Wallace’s gaze—Mary Anne. He braced himself for some teasing comment.

  “She did very well.” The pride in Clarinda’s voice echoed his feelings.

  Wallace crossed his arms on his chest. “You knew she couldn’t read?”

  Chapter 16

  Clarinda nodded. Yes, she knew the truth about Mary Anne’s reading ability.

  Was Wallace the only person blind to Mary Anne’s handicap when she arrived?

  Clarinda didn’t have a chance to say any more before Aunt Flo took her place behind the pulpit. “Before I announce the winner, let us celebrate all of the readers for an excellent job.” She brought her hands together, bringing everyone in the sanctuary to their feet again.

  After they returned to their seats, Aunt Flo spoke again. “And the winner this year is Miss Emmaline Garrett.”

  The smile drained from Wallace’s face. He had so hoped Mary Anne would win. Clarinda shook her head.

  Instead of heading for the pulpit, Miss Garrett approached Mary Anne. When she shook her head, the English professor insisted. Go, Mary Anne, go.

  He thought he had said the words silently but Winnie and Howie took up the chant. “Go, Mary Anne, go.”

  The audience joined the chant, clapping in rhythm until Mary Anne took her place at the pulpit with Miss Garrett.

  The tall teacher silenced the room as easily as she settled her classroom. “I appreciate the honor the judges have given me in choosing me as the winner of the Bible reading competition. I am always thrilled to share God’s Word to the best of my ability. But today, another deserves a share in the award.”

  She brought Mary Anne forward. “Miss Laurents, I want you to accept the award on our behalf this year.”

  Aunt Flo came up on Mary Anne’s other side. “Miss Garrett, thank you for your generosity of spirit. You are the quality of Christian woman our students strive to become.”

  More applause broke out at that remark.

  Aunt Flo presented a small statue—Wallace had seen its duplicate many times, an open Bible in the arms of a woman seated on a chair—and a wrapped gift that could only be a book. “I cannot think of anyone who will enjoy this more, or gain more benefit from it.” She embraced Mary Anne, the audience applauded a final time, and the competition had ended for another year.

  * * *

  The night after the competition, Mary Anne dressed in her finest dress instead of the uniform-like outfits she wore at school. In celebration of her double win in yesterday’s competition, Wallace was taking her to a local restaurant.

  She picked up the statue and examined the inscription: “Best Reader, Maple Notch Female Seminary, 1927.” Open in front of the statue lay her new Bible. She read the handwritten inscription at the presentation page: To Mary Anne Laurents from Florence Tuttle on behalf of Maple Notch Female Seminary.

  Laurents. If only she hadn’t won under false pretenses. She wasn’t Mary Anne Laurents, but how could she explain that now? Did the danger still exist? In less than a week, she would celebrate six months in Maple Notch. Even her pursuers’ memory wouldn’t last that long.

  That small cloud didn’t overshadow her pride and accomplishment—not to mention the friendship of a good man.

  She looked in the mirror, pulling a curl over her forehead to relieve the severe bun she wore during the day, and fiddled with her hair until someone knocked on her door.

  Aunt Flo let herself in. “He’s here.”

  Of course tonight’s dinner with Wallace would create a sensation among the girls. Even with her outsider’s position, neither staff nor student, she heard everything that came through the rumor mill. She didn’t hold any illusions about her own privacy.

  “Perhaps the back stairs?” Aunt Flo suggested. Mary Anne followed her down the twisting steps. At least the na
rrow steps would keep a dozen pairs of eyes from following her with keen interest.

  Wallace waited for her in the front room, fedora in hand, looking at the pictures of his ancestors. Mary Anne enjoyed the picture of Clara Farley Tuttle the most. She must have been a formidable woman, to start a school for girls in 1864. But her eyes twinkled behind her glasses and her face radiated contentment.

  Wallace had the same gentle gray eyes, but despite the scholar’s glasses, he retained the solid musculature of his farmer forbears. He was a man comfortable in the open fields or in a classroom, on the factory floor or in the office. A man headed places. And he had asked her out to dinner.

  Smiling, he stretched out his hands and took hers. “Let me look at you.”

  Her cheeks burned as he studied her.

  “Something looks different today.” His eyes twinkled a bit more. “It must be those two awards you won last night. Success becomes you.”

  She twisted to brush away the compliment, but he tightened his grip on her hands. “I mean it. Have you read your story in today’s paper?”

  Newspaper? A memory of a flashing light and a man’s pen poised over a notebook darted through Mary Anne’s brain. “No.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Aunt Flo only likes papers that carry national news, not our local Gazette, so I bought extra copies. I’ll take one with us to the restaurant and leave the rest here.”