~*~
Just a few days later, while I was plowing in the drizzling rain, Hannah surprised me by pinching my arm in her fingers turned vise grip. Her blond hair darkened with the moisture. Her eyes were wide and fearful. That made me stop my labors, as well as the fact that there was no way I could snare free from her grasp. Once immobile, Bess turned her glossy black head, but sighed at the sight of my sister.
Hannah ripped off Father’s hat from my skull, let it cascade to the mud, which I almost objected to, but before I could my sister flung a worn butter-colored kitchen clothe over our heads. I hadn’t noticed the sound of the rain while I’d been plowing, but with the advent of the thin sheet over the top of our heads the soft thudding of the periodically larger drops of rain sounded like a far away Nangusett drum, one of the rhythms the Indians played for mourning. Not saying one word to me, Hannah gingerly retracted a folded correspondence from her light pink dress’s pocket. I noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes, and the bottom of her dress was soaked in brown mud. She detested being dirty. As I was about to finally ask about her odd behavior, she slowly extended the postal letter to me, as if she were passing me the Ten Commandments, written by God himself on parchment.
Her voice wobbled as she spoke. “I’ve read it several times. You have to read it. Am I mistaken? Is he breaking off the engagement?”
Chapter Ten: Lost