Hannah's Dream (20 page)

Winslow came over. “Is she okay? She’s sure bleeding a lot.” He pointed to her ankle.

“She’ll be better once we get her out of here,” Sam said.

It was two
fifty-eight—two minutes before Harriet’s afternoon performance.

Truman backed his car up to the gate to the elephant yard and Neva pulled up behind him. She hopped out of her car and disappeared inside; a minute later the hayloft door opened and she pushed out four bales of hay. Truman loaded two in his trunk, then two in Neva’s car. While he was doing that, Neva
reappeared with two huge plastic totes full of uncut produce. Truman loaded these in the back seat of his car.

“Go,” Neva told Sam. “Go! We’ll see you there.”

“Let’s go now, shug,” Sam said quietly. “We’re going on a little adventure.”

Reginald Poole appeared at the top of the hill. “Hey, wait up, you guys!” he shouted.

Sam put his finger to his lips. Reginald ran down as fast as he could.

“You going on a walk?”

“Yeah, we are, but it’s going to be a longer walk than she’s used to. You got your aunt’s permission to be here?”

“She says I can stay until five.”

“Fall in, then. We got to make some tracks today, though. No dawdling. And no sassing, either. I’m not in the mood for any sassing.”

“How come?”

“No reason you need to know. You got on a pair of comfortable shoes?”

Reginald looked down at his Nikes. “Yeah, they’re comfortable.”

“Okay, because between the girl and me, we got enough bad feet already to last us ’til Judgment Day.”

Sam brought Hannah out of the gate, but he headed in a different direction than Winslow was used to.

“Where are we going?” he said.

“You just give the girl a yam now and then and be patient,” Sam said.” You’ll see.” And that was all he would say.

Harriet put on her pith helmet
with grim determination. Her zoo was hemorrhaging like a leaking dike, spewing
money, personnel, control. It couldn’t go on. But first she had a performance to give. She gave her clothes a grim little tug and walked onto the front porch with her portable amplification system, riding crop, and large-format camera. Several hundred visitors were gathered at the foot of the stairs.

She raised the microphone. “Good morning, friends!” she called. “I am Maxine Biedelman. Welcome to my zoo!”

Light applause broke out. Martin Choi, clanking with his usual excessive gear, pushed forward through the crowd, which parted to let him up onto the stairs with Harriet. He seized the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Harriet Saul, the director of this terrific zoo of ours.”

Harriet hissed, “Martin, for God’s sake.”

He kept right on going. “Let me tell you about this woman,” he said into the mike.

“What?”
Harriet said. She tried to grab the microphone away, but Martin lifted it high over his head and spun away, out of her reach.

“This is a wonderful woman, ladies and gentlemen. A
brave
woman. Do you all know Hannah, our elephant?”

Sounds of concurrence rose from the crowd.

“Well, this woman is going to save Hannah’s life. That’s right. Hannah lives alone and in lousy conditions—nobody’s fault, just the truth, and Harriet Saul knows it. So here it is: she’s working to relocate Hannah to someplace better, someplace where she can get healthy and live with other elephants.”

A general gasp rose from the crowd. Martin went on. “Friends, you are looking at a woman who’s putting it all on the line to make sure Hannah can go to an elephant sanctuary. It’s where Hannah should be, not here, and this woman”—and here he actually
grasped Harriet’s hand
—“is big enough to see
it. That’s integrity! That’s courage! Folks, you are looking at a hero. A hero.”

Harriet struggled to free her hand, but Martin kept it in an iron grasp. He was rolling, now. “I’ve had the privilege of interviewing Ms. Saul a number of times recently for the
News-Gazette
—which you can buy at all major area supermarkets and street corner vending machines—and I can attest to her bravery, her dedication. She’s a woman who’s doing something not because it is easy, not because it’s popular, but because it is
right
. Right, ladies and gentlemen! And I, for one, am proud to stand here beside her!”

And to her astonishment, he lifted her sweating hand high overhead in a victory salute.

Sam walked beside Winslow,
with Hannah on his other side; and beyond that, Reginald. Hannah carried her tire and she moved fast—faster than she had in a long time. The Lord only knew where she thought she was going. She hadn’t come this way, up the far side of the zoo property, in thirty years or more.

Sam asked Winslow, “You got the fruit like I asked you to bring?”

Winslow held up a gallon-sized zip-lock bag of yams and carrots. Sam knew the boy had it; he was just talking to calm his nerves.

“You bring some for me, too?” Reginald called. “I didn’t have time to cut anything, what with you all being so damn secretive.”

“When we get there,” Winslow said.

“Get
where
? What’s the big damn secret?”

“You watch your mouth, boy,” Sam warned, and Reginald subsided. Sam looked over at Winslow beside him, and thought the boy looked a little peaked. “You okay?” Sam asked him. “Did you have a good time with your mama?”

Winslow shrugged.

“Nah?”

Winslow hunched his shoulders. “We didn’t have that good a time, but now I miss her anyway.”

“When are you going to see her next?”

“Dunno. She doesn’t usually say. She travels a lot now so, you know.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“She’s going to Ecuador next week. She’s doing sculptures based on countries in Latin America. She says it’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t get dysentery.”

“You ask her to bring you back a souvenir?”

“No. She’ll bring me back something, though.”

“Yeah,” Reginald called. “A tapeworm, maybe.”

Sam chuckled. Bright kids. Winslow didn’t have as much to prove as Reginald, though. Nice boy, too. He’d been real well-behaved at Thanksgiving, listening to the grownups, not wisecracking. Neva had kept watching him like she knew him real well, maybe, or like she was trying to figure him out. Too bad that girl had such a shell around her. Inside she was nothing but sweetness and butter, but she made people punch through the crust to get at it, and he guessed a lot of them didn’t have the strength.

“You think someone’s going to come after us?” Winslow asked Sam.

“Nah. They probably won’t even notice we’re gone for a little while yet.” He hoped he sounded more convinced than he felt.
All they could do was keep walking straight and as fast as the girl would go. “So tell me something about your mama,” he said to Winslow, to keep his mind off worrying. “What’s she like? Besides being a famous artist.”

“She’s not famous.”

“Tell me what she’s like anyway.”

“I don’t know. Tall. She’s tall.”

“What would she say if we walked by her right now?”

“‘You don’t
always
have to tuck your shirt in.’”

“Odd thing to say.”

Winslow sighed. “Yeah.”

They’d arrived at a chain link fence. Sam brought wire cutters out of his jacket pocket and, working fast, cut the links until he’d freed a section of fence wide enough for Hannah to fit through. They walked on, into the woods now, farther than either Winslow and Reginald had ever been.

“Is this okay?” Reginald called from Hannah’s far side.

“Is what okay?”

“Our being here. I didn’t think we were supposed to come here.”

“Today is different,” Sam said. “Today it’s okay.” Hannah padded ahead of them now, following the same route she’d often walked so many years before.

“Do you like living with your daddy?” Sam asked Winslow.

“Yeah. Miles does, too.”

“The pig.”

“Yup.”

“Wouldn’t normally picture your daddy with a pig,” Sam said.

“Miles likes him, though.”

“Pigs have a good sense of people. Old Hilda, she’s the sow here, she doesn’t like kids, but that’s because she can’t see too
good and she’s afraid they’ll sneak up and throw something at her.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Someone tossed a firecracker in with her once, just one of those little poppers, but it scared her so bad she didn’t come out of her shed for a week.”

“That was mean,” Winslow said.

“People are, sometimes.”

“My grandpa told me Hannah’s not going to live at the zoo anymore,” Winslow said.

“Yup. Shug’s going to go to a retirement home for elephants.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay down there?”

“Yeah, I do. Course, she’s going to miss us at first, like we’re going to miss her. But it’ll be good for her, all the same. She’ll get her feet nice and healed up, get to roam around where there’s grass and trees and a pond. And other elephants, of course. She’s going to be better than okay. I expect she’s going to think she landed in the Garden of Eden.”

Reginald came around. “It’s lonely over there,” he said. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Heaven,” Sam said. “You boys want to switch sides? Winslow, take shug’s blind side for a little while and let Reginald come over here. Remember to keep your hand on her, so she knows you’re there.”

Winslow crossed over and Reginald took his place.

“So tell me something about yourself I don’t already know,” Sam said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Tell me about your daddy.”

Reginald’s shoulders hunched up a little bit. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“You talk to him, though?”

“Nah. My aunt says the less I have to do with him, the better.”

“That right?”

Reginald seemed to reach a decision. “He’s in prison. He broke into a liquor store in Bothell. Said he didn’t mean to hurt anything, just needed a little something to take the edge off a bad headache. Why would you break into a liquor store for that? He should have broken into a drug store. He probably wouldn’t have been caught, there. No one cares about drug stores. They probably figure if someone’s desperate enough to steal aspirin or something, they must really need it.”

“Sometimes people do wrong things, son. Bet he’d take it back if he could. He’s probably real sorry he isn’t around to watch you grow up.”

“Yeah,” Reginald said without conviction.

“People can do all manner of stupid things. Doesn’t mean they’re bad people, necessarily.”

“My aunt says my dad’s a worthless piece of junk.”

“Women can be hard sometimes,” Sam acknowledged. “I can’t imagine what Corinna’s thought about me over the years. Probably be right, too. We’re just people. We get up some days and do something we shouldn’t, and we can’t even explain why. That’s human nature. Maybe that’s the way it was with your daddy.”

They walked along quietly, listening to the sound of Hannah snapping twigs underfoot. Sam said, “You know, sometimes the folks we’re given at the beginning don’t end up being the ones who raise us. Someone loves you, why, then they’re raising you. You got your aunt. Hannah, she found Miss Biedel
man, and then she found me and Corinna. She’s been lucky that way. And now she’s got you, too.”

That perked Reginald up. “You think she knows me? Because I can call her, and she’ll come right over.”

“Of course she knows you, son. She might have a buggered-up eye, but she’s not blind, and even if she was, she’s plenty smart enough to recognize the people who’ve been good to her. You’re the man with the treats. Plus she trusts you. There’s something about you she just likes.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“How about Winslow?” Reginald asked.

“Not so much,” Sam said in a voice too low for Winslow to hear. “At least, not yet. But he’s got Miles, so there’s that—Hannah doesn’t necessarily like to share.”

“So she chose me.”

“Yep.”

The boy spread his chest, walked a little higher on his toes.

Sam elbowed him lightly in the side, grinning. “She also likes handsome. You think you’re handsome?”

Reginald grinned back. “I
know
I’m handsome.”

“Couple of more years and you’re going to be hard to be around,” Sam laughed.

“Hey, you guys!” Winslow called. “It’s getting creepy in here.” Dusk was well underway. “Can I come over there with you?”

“Yeah, just tell shug where you’re going and keep your hand on her when you cross behind her, so she doesn’t startle,” Sam said.

Winslow circled around and joined them. “Either of you ever have nightmares?” Sam asked.

“I do,” Winslow said. “I dream my mom’s mad at me.”

“Why’s she mad?”

Winslow shrugged. “I don’t know. She was always mad about something. It was more at my dad than me, though.”

“How about you?” Sam asked Reginald.

“Nah.”

“Hannah, she dreams,” Sam told them.

Reginald rolled his eyes at Winslow. Sam just smiled. “Everything dreams, son.”

“Aw, you don’t know that.”

“Sure I do,” Sam said. “If you look in her eyes you can see it there as plain as day. Shug dreams about grass. Grass and elephants.”

H
arriet closed herself
in her office with a pounding headache. The Trojan Horse had wrought less havoc than Martin Choi’s declaration on Havenside’s front stairs. Within an hour of completing her show she had declined interviews with the Associated Press, the
Tacoma News-Tribune
, Northwest Cable News, the
Seattle Post-Intelligencer
, the
Seattle Times
, and Reuters. She had had the receptionist tell them all she would return their calls after four p.m. She figured by then she’d either be dead from a stroke or her blood pressure and pulse would have returned to a sustainable range.

She checked the wine bottles at the back of the closet in vain.

She ate an old, stale half-order of nachos and coagulated cheese.

She paced the perimeter of her office, hitting her shin repeatedly with Maxine’s riding crop.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
For the first time in her adult life, she didn’t know what to do. Her experience centered almost entirely on rejection, not courtship. She’d been sabotaged by praise.

Her security radio crackled and then one of the security guards said, “Security to Ms. Biedelman-Saul. Ma’am, there’s no elephant down here. Over.”

“What do you mean? How can there not be an elephant?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. Over.”

“Well, are you saying she escaped?”

“No ma’am, I wouldn’t say escaped, because there aren’t any gates open or anything. Nobody in the barn, either, for that matter. Over.”

“Well, was the lock broken open?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t see any sign of that. Over.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

“Yes, ma’am. Over and out.”

Just when Sam’s flashlight batteries
began to die, they broke from the woods into a meadow. “Hey!” Winslow said. “Now I know where we are! This is my grandpa’s farm. How come we’re—” Then he saw the barn, golden light flooding through two small windows. “We’re going to keep Hannah here, aren’t we?”

“Smart boy!” Sam said, clapping Winslow on the back. “Shug’s going to stay the night, give us a chance to sort some things out.”

Matthew came out the back door of the house as they neared the barn. Winslow ran to meet him.

“Look who we’ve got!” he called.

Matthew gave the boy a hug and walked with him toward the barn, where Sam, Reginald, and Hannah were standing. “Well, now!” Matthew said, shaking Sam’s hand warmly. “Did you run into any problems?”

“No, sir,” Sam said. “Least, not once we got out the gate.”

“Good, good.”

Matthew slid open the barn door. The barn was a clean, dry, open place neatly holding the tools of a gentleman farmer—a ride-on tractor, hay mower, wheelbarrow, hay rake, and a few tools. The rest was a hayloft, several horse stalls with hay strewn over their dirt floors, and a lot of air. Matthew hung several Coleman lanterns to boost the golden light of the overhead bulbs. Hot white lantern light threw shadows into the corners.

“Think this’ll do, Sam?”

“Yes, sir. I think this should be about perfect.”

A car crunched up the gravel drive and stopped in front of the barn.

“Ah!” Matthew said. “Here’s my son.”

Truman joined them in the barn, closely followed by Miles. Miles snuffled his way in while Hannah watched him with rolling eyes, reached toward him tentatively with her trunk. The little pig twitched his tail and gamely turned in a circle so Hannah could sniff all of him. Truman took the wheelbarrow to the car and came back with his two bales of hay.

Reginald poked Winslow hard in the ribs. “That your pig?”

“Yeah. He farts a lot.”

Reginald snorted appreciatively, looking around. “This is real nice. You get to come over here often?”

“Yeah,” Winslow said. “Sometimes I get to drive the tractor.”

“Yeah? I visit my grandpa sometimes, too. He lets me do whatever I want. One time I ate twenty-two Eskimo Pies in a row.”

“Yeah?” said Winslow.

“Yeah. I’m going to see him again soon, and we’re going to stay up all night and play paintball.”

“You’re lying,” Winslow said.

“Nuh uh,” said Reginald.

“So where does he live?”

“Here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Bladenham.”

“Yeah, but what street?”

“I don’t know. I never paid attention.”

“I bet you don’t even have a grandpa.”

Reginald kicked Winslow hard on the shin, and then they were scuffling in the hay.

“Boys!” Truman called. “Knock it off.”

“He’s telling all these lies,” Winslow said.

“Then he probably has a good reason,” Truman said. “Find something else to talk about.”

Sam was telling Matthew, “Shug must think she’s died and gone to heaven with all this nice hay and pretty barn. It’s been a long time since she got to go anyplace new.”

“Did she get through the day without too much harm?” Truman asked. He looked down at Hannah’s bloody ankle and winced.

“She got a little upset earlier, but she’ll be okay,” Sam said. “Nothing a nice little meal of hay and fruit won’t make right again.”

Truman’s gaze went from Hannah’s leg to Sam’s. “Sam—good god!” The cuff of Sam’s khaki pants was wet with blood. “What happened?”

“Just a nasty sore I’ve got. Bleeds sometimes, but the doctor’s
got me on a new medicine that should fix it right up—that and getting off my feet for a while once shug’s settled.”

“I hope so,” Truman said, and then car tires crunched over the gravel again. Neva pulled up and jumped out. “Did she make the trip okay?”

Sam said, “She did just fine. I’m proud of the girl. She hasn’t been that far into the woods in a long time, but she just went right along.”

“Thank god.” Neva approached Hannah, who had come to stand quietly beside Sam with her trunk tucked under his arm. “You’re a brave girl,” Neva told her, “and it’s just going to get better and better.”

Sam, Truman, Winslow, Reginald, and Matthew all turned.

She broke into a grin. “I just heard from Alice. They’ll take her as soon as we can have her ready!”

A whoop rang out, followed by a general clamoring for information.

“Tell us about it, for god’s sake,” Truman said. “Details—we want details!”

Neva said, “Well, evidently this lockout was the final straw. Alice said she was pretty sure the board would have voted to accept Hannah anyway, but they weren’t planning on dealing with it until their next regular meeting in February. When she told the board chairman we’d been locked out, he called the executive committee together, and I guess they just about set the room on fire. Apparently they drew up a motion to accept Hannah on the spot, and the full board passed it by a phone vote without a single dissension.” She turned and said quietly, “Congratulations, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t know what to say.” Hannah bumped him with her trunk. “Baby always knows when
something’s up.” The elephant wrapped her trunk around his head, explored his ear. He reached up and patted her. “It’s all right, baby doll. It’s all right now. You’re going to see the world.”

Off to the side, Matthew was saying to Winslow, “Come with me, my boy.” The two of them trotted off.

“What on earth?” Neva asked Truman, but he just shook his head.

“Could I borrow your phone?” Sam asked him. “I’d like to call Mama and tell her the news. She’s going to be on the moon.” Truman extended his cell phone and Sam walked deeper into the barn.

Truman turned to Neva, whose eyes were bright. She said, “If I know Alice, she incited a riot. The woman’s a Valkyrie when she’s pissed off.” She laughed. “God, I’d have loved to be in the room.”

Matthew came back into the barn with Lavinia and Winslow. Winslow carried two cream sodas; Matthew had a bottle of wine and a bouquet of glasses.

“You know we’re going to have to tell Harriet,” Truman said to Neva.

“I thought I would do that myself in a little while. Unless you’d rather do it, of course,” Matthew said to Sam, who’d come back with Truman’s phone.

“No, sir,” said Sam, returning Truman’s cell phone.

“Is Corinna all right?”

“Woman’s beside herself. I never heard her stuck for words before.”

“Then I believe a toast is in order.” Matthew uncorked the wine and had Winslow pass around the filled wine glasses, and cream sodas for the boys.

“To Hannah!” Matthew called.

“To Hannah!” they all echoed.

Sam pulled Reginald aside
and pointed to his watch: five-fifteen. “I forgot all about the time. When was your aunt picking you up?”

“Five. It’s okay, though.”

“No it isn’t.”

“She won’t care.”

“Course she’ll care. She’s probably worried sick or mad, one or the other, and I wouldn’t want someone to feel either way about me. You ask Mister Levy over there if you can use his cell phone, and then you tell her I’ll drive you home myself.”

“Aw, man,” Reginald said, and shuffled over to Matthew.

“He seems like a nice boy,” Matthew said to Sam, watching Reginald shuffle away, punching a number into Matthew’s cell phone.

“Yeah, he just needs some attention.”

“What kind of attention?”

“The man kind, mostly.”

“I gather his father’s in jail,” Matthew said.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “It about killed him to tell me that.”

Reginald headed back looking dejected as they both watched. “She’s real mad,” he said when he reached them.

“She should be, you promising her something and then breaking your word. Your word is the only thing a man’s got, so don’t you go wasting it. You tell her I’m going to bring you home?”

“Yeah. She said good.”

“I bet she did. All right, son, let’s go. Say goodbye to everyone.”

“Bye, everyone!” Reginald yelled to the barn in general. “Bye, Windermere!”

Goodbyes rang out from all over. Sam put his hand on the boy’s back and steered him to the car.

“I think we got some things to talk about, you and me,” Sam told him as they drove away.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like what you want more, a future or a past.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reginald said.

“Looks like I’m going to have a little time on my hands pretty soon, so you stick with me and I’ll show you.”

Neva hauled an air mattress,
sleeping bag, pillow, and toilet kit out of her car and into the barn. She told Matthew, “I’m taking first watch, if that’s okay with you.”

Matthew nodded. “You know best. Just come into the house anytime you need to. Walk right in. I’ll set some towels out for you, and Lavinia’s preparing supper.”

Sam, back from driving Reginald home, said to her, “You sure you don’t want me to be the one to stay over? Mama could bring me a sweater and some blankets and I’d be fine.”

“Nope. Your turn will come,” Neva assured him.

“Uh oh,” said Winslow, pointing across the lawn.

Approaching from across the lawn were Lavinia and Harriet Saul. Matthew stepped forward to greet her. “Hello, Harriet. What a pleasure.”

Harriet nodded at him curtly, and then at the others. “Sam. Neva. Truman.”

“Ma’am,” Sam said, stepping between Harriet and Hannah.

“Martin Choi has publicly declared me Saint Francis of Assisi. If I’m going to be beatified, I’d better at least understand why.”

Neva said to Sam, “Let me talk. She’s already fired me.”

“That might have been a bit hasty,” Harriet said.

“Oh, probably not.”

“Look, I need to know. Is it absolutely necessary for Hannah to leave?” Harriet asked. “You know what it’ll do to the zoo.”

“She’ll die if we don’t move her,” Neva said.

“And you agree?” Harriet asked Sam.

“Yes ma’am.”

“I assume you have someplace lined up to take her.”

“The Pachyderm Sanctuary has agreed to take her as soon as she can be moved,” Neva said. “It’s an excellent facility near Sacramento.”

“No doubt,” Harriet said dryly. “And what will you do, Sam? I’m sure you understand that you can’t stay at the zoo.”

“No ma’am. I’ll be retiring,” Sam said. “I’ve got some medical things I need to take care of.”

“Medical things?” Harriet said.

“Diabetes, ma’am. I’ve got diabetes.”

“You never said anything about this.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Believe it or not, I do care about these things.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said. “I didn’t know.”

“Yes, well, people rarely give me the benefit of the doubt,” Harriet said. “I don’t know why that is.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Harriet nodded at Sam and Neva. “And I assume you have a plan for moving her.”

“Yes, ma’am, we do,” Sam said.

“All right, then,” she said. “I’m listening.”

Matthew brought a glass of wine and a folding chair for her, and the others dragged over boxes and a bench. Harriet pulled her barn coat around her more tightly and they began.

At ten o’clock that night,
Truman and Neva were sitting on wooden crates at an upturned industrial spool they were using as a table. The remnants of a late spaghetti dinner had been loaded into black trash bags nearby, and in one of the stalls Miles blinked in porcine contentment, bedded down in fresh straw. Winslow lay on a straw bed one stall over, cozy in his down sleeping bag; Hannah stood near Neva and Truman, dozing over her tire.

“I admire your dedication,” Truman was saying.

“It’s just selfishness—I love what I do. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“You’re lucky. Most of us don’t feel that way. Lives of quiet desperation and all that.”

“Are you desperate?”

“Me? No. There have been moments, but no—I have choices. Actually I’ve been thinking about going to law school.” He smiled ruefully. “Three lawyers in two generations. People will run when they see us coming. Imagine being a student again at thirty-six.”

From his stall, Miles heaved a mighty sigh. Truman smiled at Neva, who smiled back. “Actually, it’s a relief to have him here,” Truman said. “He’s begun rearranging the furniture in the den at night.”

“Well, he is a pig,” Neva pointed out. “They’re smart. Smart and busy.”

“I only wish I’d known,” Truman said. “I’m going to tell Winslow goodnight. I’ll be right back. Are you all right—do you need anything, while I’m up?”