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Authors: Mary Downing Hahn
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Hannah under a rose trellis and came to a stop so quickly I almost tripped over my own feet. I was standing on the edge of a small graveyard. No one had told me people were buried behind the house. Maybe Aunt Blythe didn't even know they were there. Her lawn was so overgrown anything could be hidden in the weeds and brambles.
Hannah stared at me. "What's the matter? We've always played here, Andrew. Don't you remember?"
To avoid answering, I bent down to retie my shoelace. I didn't want Hannah to know I was so scared of cemeteries that I hid my face and held my breath every time I passed one.
"Surely you're not afraid of our dead." Hannah came closer.
"Of course I'm not." I tried to sound brave, but Hannah wasn't fooled.
Taking my hand, she held it tight. "You came so close to dying," she whispered. "It must make a body see things differently."
Hannah gazed at the five headstones, gathered in a group like old friends. "Grandfather, Grandmother, their son Andrew, their daughter Susan. And our sister Lucy." Her eyes lingered on the last grave, and her grip on my hand tightened. "Thank the Lord, you're not lying here beside her, Andrew."
I shivered. For the first time in my life, I knew what people meant when they said someone was walking on their grave. Little did Hannah know how truly close her brother had come to keeping Lucy company beneath the green grass.
Face solemn, Hannah brushed away a tuft of moss growing in the
L
on Lucy's stone. "You were only three or four when she died, so you don't really remember her, do you?"
I shook my head and Hannah said, "I was eight and she was ten. We both had diphtheria. We were so sick Mama thought she was going to lose us both, but Dr. Fulton saved me. He couldn't save Lucy though."
While I listened, a cloud floated past the sun and cast its shadow on the burial ground. Leaves stirred and rustled. A mourning dove called, repeating the same sad notes over and over again.
Hannah squeezed my hand. "I'll tell you a secret, Andrew. For a long time after Lucy died, I'd wake in the middle of the night and hear her breathing. I'd forget she was dead and talk to her the way I always had, whispering in the dark. She'd listen, she'd laugh. Sometimes I even felt her hand touch mine."
The mourning dove called again, and the cloud drifted away. In spite of the summer heat, I was cold. "Weren't you scared, Hannah?"
She shook her head. "Oh, no, not a bit. I was glad Lucy was near. It comforted me."
I helped Hannah pick a bunch of clover blossoms to lay on her sister's grave. When she had arranged them carefully, she said, "I fancy Lucy sees what I see and hears what I hear. As long as I live, she'll be alive too. I carry her in my heart, Andrew." She struck her chest. "Right here."
Suddenly embarrassed, Hannah leapt to her feet and ran across the grass to a grove of trees on the other side of the graveyard. Ducking under the branches, I found her kneeling in the green shade, clearing a space around her.
"If you want to play marbles, help me make a smooth place for the ring." She sounded firm, certain, in control of things again.
While we worked together to level the ground, I glanced at Hannah from time to time. Her face was calm now, but it pained me to remember the sadness I'd seen in her eyes when she spoke of Lucy's death. Thank goodness, I'd saved Andrew's life, not just for his sake but for hers too. First a sister, then a brother—how could Hannah have borne so much sorrow and loss?
"There." Hannah got to her feet and surveyed the cleared space. Picking up a stick, she drew a lopsided circle in the dirt. She scratched a cross in the middle and laid thirteen target marbles on it—one in the center and three on each crossbar.
Miggles
she called them.
Outside the circle, she drew two lines about a foot apart, took ten steps back, and drew another one. "Now," she said. "We'll lag to see who goes first."
I stared at Hannah, my face burning with embarrassment. "I don't remember
Hannah stared at me. "What's the matter? We've always played here, Andrew. Don't you remember?"
To avoid answering, I bent down to retie my shoelace. I didn't want Hannah to know I was so scared of cemeteries that I hid my face and held my breath every time I passed one.
"Surely you're not afraid of our dead." Hannah came closer.
"Of course I'm not." I tried to sound brave, but Hannah wasn't fooled.
Taking my hand, she held it tight. "You came so close to dying," she whispered. "It must make a body see things differently."
Hannah gazed at the five headstones, gathered in a group like old friends. "Grandfather, Grandmother, their son Andrew, their daughter Susan. And our sister Lucy." Her eyes lingered on the last grave, and her grip on my hand tightened. "Thank the Lord, you're not lying here beside her, Andrew."
I shivered. For the first time in my life, I knew what people meant when they said someone was walking on their grave. Little did Hannah know how truly close her brother had come to keeping Lucy company beneath the green grass.
Face solemn, Hannah brushed away a tuft of moss growing in the
L
on Lucy's stone. "You were only three or four when she died, so you don't really remember her, do you?"
I shook my head and Hannah said, "I was eight and she was ten. We both had diphtheria. We were so sick Mama thought she was going to lose us both, but Dr. Fulton saved me. He couldn't save Lucy though."
While I listened, a cloud floated past the sun and cast its shadow on the burial ground. Leaves stirred and rustled. A mourning dove called, repeating the same sad notes over and over again.
Hannah squeezed my hand. "I'll tell you a secret, Andrew. For a long time after Lucy died, I'd wake in the middle of the night and hear her breathing. I'd forget she was dead and talk to her the way I always had, whispering in the dark. She'd listen, she'd laugh. Sometimes I even felt her hand touch mine."
The mourning dove called again, and the cloud drifted away. In spite of the summer heat, I was cold. "Weren't you scared, Hannah?"
She shook her head. "Oh, no, not a bit. I was glad Lucy was near. It comforted me."
I helped Hannah pick a bunch of clover blossoms to lay on her sister's grave. When she had arranged them carefully, she said, "I fancy Lucy sees what I see and hears what I hear. As long as I live, she'll be alive too. I carry her in my heart, Andrew." She struck her chest. "Right here."
Suddenly embarrassed, Hannah leapt to her feet and ran across the grass to a grove of trees on the other side of the graveyard. Ducking under the branches, I found her kneeling in the green shade, clearing a space around her.
"If you want to play marbles, help me make a smooth place for the ring." She sounded firm, certain, in control of things again.
While we worked together to level the ground, I glanced at Hannah from time to time. Her face was calm now, but it pained me to remember the sadness I'd seen in her eyes when she spoke of Lucy's death. Thank goodness, I'd saved Andrew's life, not just for his sake but for hers too. First a sister, then a brother—how could Hannah have borne so much sorrow and loss?
"There." Hannah got to her feet and surveyed the cleared space. Picking up a stick, she drew a lopsided circle in the dirt. She scratched a cross in the middle and laid thirteen target marbles on it—one in the center and three on each crossbar.
Miggles
she called them.
Outside the circle, she drew two lines about a foot apart, took ten steps back, and drew another one. "Now," she said. "We'll lag to see who goes first."
I stared at Hannah, my face burning with embarrassment. "I don't remember
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