Injustice for all

39

Hannah opened the refrigerator and pulled out a cold bottle of water. She noticed the package of chicken she’d purchased at the store on Tuesday. She’d better do something with it tonight or it might spoil. She decided she’d make herself some stir- fry later and closed the door. Patches was barking excitedly in the bedroom, and Hannah called him. She poured some of her water into Patches’s bowl and bent down and petted his head as he lapped it up. She’d come to love him dearly in the short time she’d had him. He was so sweet and docile. He’d make a wonderful playmate for the baby.

It had been a difficult week. After her conversation with Mr. Mooney last Saturday, he’d called her on Sunday and said he’d completely forgotten he was leaving for vacation. He asked her to keep their conversation private. They would call Tanner into Mr. Mooney’s office when he returned to work on Monday, have a conversation, gauge Tanner’s reaction, and go from there.

Hannah had avoided Tanner the entire week. He’d called and left messages on her answering machine- the last one asked whether he’d done something to offend her-but she’d ignored him. She was looking forward to Monday and the opportunity to confront Tanner. She might not like what he had to say, but at least she’d have some answers.

She stood and walked into the bedroom, removing her red Windbreaker along the way. She dropped it, along with her purse, onto the bed.

The strap went around her neck before she could step away from the bed. Hannah felt herself being pulled back and upward. Her feet left the floor. Her hands went immediately to her throat. Something was choking her. She couldn’t breathe. What was it? Who was it?

Whoever it was, he was powerful, far more powerful than she. Hannah could feel the hair of his beard against her face as he pulled her tightly against him. She could smell the musty odor of his breath, feel the air rushing from his nostrils into her right ear. But she couldn’t get free. She kicked and wriggled and squirmed, trying her best to break his hold, but he slammed her face- first into the floor and pinned her there. She felt something warm trickle from her mouth. Blood, I must be bleeding.

When Hannah accepted the inevitability of her own death, she relaxed. She saw her mother’s smiling face, the expanse of Lake Michigan from a sandy bluff, the majesty of the purple Smoky Mountains. Lottie called to her from the kitchen. Supper was ready. Luke jerked in his bed, his eyes alight, a sure sign that he understood the joke she’d made. Aunt Mary patted her hand on the front porch swing on a moonlit summer night.

As the darkness overtook her and the white light appeared, Hannah found herself a bit surprised, even puzzled, by her lack of fear. The thought passed through her mind that perhaps she should thank this man who was taking her life. True, he was taking her unborn child along with her, but since she’d learned of the pregnancy, Hannah had caught herself-more than once-regarding the thought of a child as another tragedy in the making.

Hannah’s heart stopped beating, and the light grew brighter.

The last emotion she felt was relief.