A Dream for Hannah by Jerry S. Eicher

tight.
    At the end of the walkway, Isaac was parked with the buggy wheels turned away from the step. Perhaps he had visions of a girlfriend walking lightly down the walk toward him.
    “He’s got the wheels turned,” Hannah whispered to Miriam.
    Miriam laughed. “There is hope for him if he doesn’t run us over before he learns.”
    Both girls climbed in, and Isaac burst out with the news almost before they took their seats, “Ernest Byler just took Betsy home tonight.”
    “I don’t believe it,” Miriam said in astonishment. “He’s going on thirty or so.”
    “Well, it’s true. I saw it with my own eyes. Betsy walked right by her brother’s buggy and climbed into Ernest’s. They must have had it planned like that—to try to sneak it by everyone.”
    “She’s got to be close to thirty too,” Hannah mused. “Who would have thought it? I didn’t think either of them would ever get married.”
    “I guess the leftovers take the leftovers,” Isaac proposed as an answer. “Everyone needs someone.”
    “That’s not a nice thing to say,” Miriam said. “Maybe they just waited for each other.”
    “It could be,” he answered.
    “I see you had the wheels turned for us.” Miriam smiled at Isaac, her face faintly visible in the darkness of the buggy.
    “Well…” Isaac seemed embarrassed.
    “That’s okay,” Miriam said, patting his arm.
    “You’re not saying anything,” Isaac said, turning in Hannah’s direction.
    “Just listening,” she said. “After you ran us over, I thought that was nice. Thinking of some other girl perhaps?”
    Isaac made a face at her.
    “You shouldn’t have any problem finding a girl,” she said.
    “Don’t torment me,” Isaac replied, groaning, and both sisters laughed.
    “See,” he said and slapped the reins, “it seems like you either get no one or you get too many. No one’s my problem.”
    “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Miriam told Hannah. “He just wants you to feel sorry for him. He’s got all the chances a decent boy should have. He’s too young to make up his mind yet—which is good I suppose. That shows maturity.”
    Isaac rolled his eyes and slapped the reins again.

     
    A few evenings later, Hannah stood by her upstairs bedroom window. The air, filled with the warmth of the late spring day, stirred in gentle ripples around her. The days were glorious and numbered, and she readily received the joy they gave. Each moment made her feel more alive than the last one.
    On the flat northern Indiana horizon, the faint bubble of the full moon rose and soon would cast its deep glow across the sky. It would be another hour before the moon grew fully visible, but already Hannah could see low hanging clouds accented against the branches of the old tree that leaned over the house roof.
    The thought of Peter came, adding even more fragrance to the scene. Would he actually ever come, climb up the tree, and drop from the branches? What would she do if he did?
    She shivered and pulled the window shut. It slid softly in that way new windows in new houses do. As she turned the latch, Hannah paused. An object had struck the wall and rattled down the siding. Next she heard a ping on the window glass. Slowly she opened the window again. She saw nothing. Her eyes searched, but no form became visible by the tree or anywhere else in the open. Hannah glanced down the fencerow toward the road but saw nothing there either. Out by the barn, their dog, Shep, barked sharply. She almost told him to be quiet, but her voice would attract more attention. His bark was already bad enough.
    Surely, she thought, Peter’s not coming. After all, it has been quite a while since I’ve seen him in town, and even then I warned him not to come.
    But if he did, would he know about the dog? That problem hadn’t occurred to her. Shep barked louder, his bark urgent and aggressive.
    Oh, I can’t believe I am even thinking about this. I don’t want him to come. I don’t want him to