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Episode 33: Being Hannah
After a bad day at work, Hannah has an interesting conversation with an elderly friend. It gets her thinking about what it means to be Hannah. In the end, it really is worth the trouble! --The Author
It was a beautiful fall morning. The sun still hung low in the sky, its bright beams warming the earth after a delightfully cool night. Birds blithely sang, interrupted only by the occasional noise of a passing vehicle or closing door. These sounds of the morning drifted through seventeen-year-old Hannah Jamison's open window as she peacefully slept, oblivious to them all. Finally, the passing of a particularly noisy truck caused her to stir. Sleepily opening her eyes, she caught a glimpse of her clock. It was 8:45. How nice it was to finally be on fall break! It was too bad she couldn't have gone with Juliana and Mr. Davis to visit Uncle Harry and Aunt Irene, but she had to work. That was ok, though; even so it would be a pretty relaxing week. Tomorrow she didn't have to work until the evening, and even today she only had to - no, she was supposed to be at work at 9:00 today! Somehow she had forgotten to set her alarm!
Jumping from bed, Hannah tried to get ready for the day as quickly as she possibly could. She practically threw on her work clothes, dispensed with all but the most basic effort of getting her hair into a quick ponytail, and brushed her teeth just long enough to wash away the morning breath. At least it was only a few minutes' drive to work!
Despite her best efforts, it was nearly 9:15 when she rushed into the store. She had called ahead, and it wasn't a particularly busy morning, so being late hadn't really hurt anything. Nonetheless, she was chided rather harshly for being late. The easygoing store manager she usually worked for, Bill Jenkins, was on vacation this week, and his substitute was going a bit overboard with running a tight ship. Hannah apologized, but she felt like he was trying to make an example of her in front of her coworkers.
Brenda, a kind woman who had worked there in various roles since before Hannah had even been born, tried to stand up for her. “Let her be, Roger," she implored. “Everyone oversleeps sometimes."
“That doesn't make it ok," he retorted. "We all have to be committed to doing good, timely work to meet the needs of our customers."
Brenda and Hannah both rolled their eyes at Roger's buzzword-laden drivel. "Listen," Brenda broke in, "Hannah is one of our best cashiers on any shift. She works extra when we need her to. Our customers love her. Since she's started here, we've gotten so many compliments about her. She's hardly ever late. If she suddenly starts coming in late all the time, then let Bill take care of it."
The few other coworkers who had stayed around to hear the exchange nodded in agreement. Roger seemed unconvinced, but he said nothing further, huffily disappearing into the back office.
Hannah usually enjoyed her job pretty well. She loved chatting with the customers, and always tried to make sure they left her line at least a little bit happier than they had been when they had arrived. There were definitely some interesting characters among her motley crew of coworkers, but for the most part she got along great with them, too.
Today, though, everyone at work seemed a little on edge. Hannah had never really paid attention to just how big a difference having a good boss can make, but today it was obvious. When lines got a little too long, Roger would criticize the pace at which the cashiers were working, without even seeming to consider the possibility of helping. Mr. Jenkins would often step in to help bag an especially large order, run a register while someone was on break, or even go collect shopping carts from the parking lot; Roger only seemed interested in telling everyone else how to get their work done.
It didn't get any better just after lunchtime, when Hannah got the hiccups. Even though everyone was familiar with Hannah's hiccups, and she'd had them at work more times than she could remember, Roger felt that they were entirely unprofessional. Never mind that most customers found the cute cashier with the hiccups cheery and endearing; he clearly did not.
Telling Hannah how unprofessional her hiccups were didn't seem to be a particularly effective cure, so after several minutes Roger returned with a small cup of water. "Here, take this," he commanded bluntly.
"Oh, um, th-*hic* thank you," Hannah said tentatively. "Nothing cures my hiccups *hic* though. I've tried -"
"Just drink the water," Roger insisted impatiently.
Hannah shrugged and quickly drank it up. Hardly had she handed the empty cup back to him when she hiccupped again. "It just doesn't *hilk* work," she tried to explain.
After he walked away, Brenda whispered over to Hannah, "It may not have worked but that's the first time today he's lifted a finger to help!"
Hannah laughed. "Good point!"
In just a few minutes, Roger was back. This time he had a shy girl with him who typically worked stocking shelves and keeping the aisles tidy. "Serena, you worked as a cashier when you were on night shift, right? Why don't you trade with Hannah for now so that her hiccups won't be such a distraction to customers?"
Hannah didn't really feel like she was the one being a distraction, but she didn't protest. For her part, Serena just quietly said ok. Once Roger had left, Serena apologized. "I'm sorry Hannah, I hate working up front but he made me come. Honestly, I think this is ridiculous. I don't care what he says, you're so much better at this than I am."
"It's ok," Hannah assured her. "You'll do *hic* great, definitely better than I'll d-*huck* do trying to figure out what *hic* shelves everything goes on!"
Serena chuckled. "I was working on straightening up C25 if you want to pick up where I was. Someone went through and kind of made a mess."
Once she had gotten her cash drawer taken care of, Hannah wandered out into the store. She'd never been anything other than a cashier; she didn't even know where aisle C25 was! This was going to be a long afternoon.
Hannah hadn't even found the elusive aisle C25 before she was stopped by a customer. "Excuse me," she heard someone say as she looked down yet another aisle.
"How can I *hic* help you?" she asked, turning to see who had called. "Oh, hey Mrs. J-*hic*-ones! I didn't realize it was *huck* you!" The person needing help was a frequent customer who Hannah had gotten to know.
"Why Hannah! What are you doing out in the store? New job?"
"No, just hel-*hic*-ping fill in back here today." Hannah didn't attempt to explain any further.
"That's nice," Mrs. Jones said with a smile. "Do you know where I would find canning jars?"
Hannah frowned. "Ummm *hic*, maybe like with the storage b-*huck* bins and all?"
"I already looked there, but I could have missed them," Mrs. Jones answered.
"How about in the *hic* food section with the plastic wrap *hic* and baggies?" Hannah suggested. Mrs. Jones hadn't tried there, so off they went to search for the jars.
"How are you doing today?" Mrs. Jones asked as they walked. "Looks like you have the hiccups again," she added sympathetically.
"Yeah, you know *hic* me!" Hannah laughed. "And I'm ok, it has-*hic*-n't really been the best *hic* morning. It'll get better though, *hic* I'm sure! How's your sweet *hic* grandbaby doing?"
Mrs. Jones brightened. "She's just perfect! They grow so fast!"
"Oh I know! I m-*hic* missed seeing her in church *hic* last week."
"Yeah, they went to see her daddy's parents up in Lexington." As Mrs. Jones answered, they arrived at the aisle Hannah had suggested, but no canning jars were forthcoming. They decided to check in the storage area again, but on their way, Mrs. Jones suggested, "Oh look, maybe they're here with the pots and pans!"
After a minute or two of hunting, they finally found the jars. "Thanks, Hannah!" Mrs. Jones said with a smile.
"Well, I didn't really h-*ulk* help much, but you're *hic* welcome!" Hannah admitted. "Have a great *hic* afternoon!"
Despite the occasional friendly customer like Mrs. Jones, by the end of the day, Hannah was frustrated, exhausted, and of course still hiccupping. It felt like she'd spent half the day just trying to figure out where things belonged. It was especially embarrassing when someone would ask her for help finding something, and she was just about as lost as they were. So much for seeming professional!
Finally, mercifully, Hannah got off work. Before she could go home and relax, she had a couple stops to make. The first was at the home of Grandma Dot.
The elderly lady that everyone affectionately knew as Grandma Dot was actually Mrs. Benson's grandmother. Despite her advanced age, she still stubbornly lived on her own in a tiny house on the edge of town. Normally, Mrs. Benson or Ellie would check in on her at least once each day, but since they were out of town, Hannah had offered to stop by and make sure Grandma Dot was doing ok.
Hannah loved visiting Grandma Dot. She had a hard time getting around, and her memory wasn't quite what it used to be, but she was still the most independent, interesting, and spunky 94-year-old that Hannah had ever met. After rapping loudly on her door, Hannah smiled broadly when she heard Grandma Dot's raspy voice calling, "Come in!"
Grandma Dot's house looked like it had been placed in a time capsule at some point in the 1970's and flawlessly transported to the present day. The couch she was sitting on was a golden brown color that could only have been popular in that bygone era. Although some were recent, many of her family photos on display featured Mrs. Benson and other grown-up relatives as small children. Her appliances, carpets, and curtains were similarly dated, although still immaculately kept. On a low table sat a classic stereo system, complete with a phonograph and 8-track tape deck. Piled next to it were small stacks of records and a few of those odd tape cartridges. At the moment, though, it was playing a radio news broadcast. Grandma Dot's hearing was a bit poor, and thus as she came in Hannah felt like she practically had to shout over the radio in order to be heard. "Hey, Grandma D-*huck* Dot!" she greeted her loudly.
Grandma Dot smiled broadly. "Hi, sweetheart!" she welcomed. Hannah bent down and gave her a gentle hug. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were coming so soon," she apologized, "Or I would have started dinner already."
"No no, y-*hic*-ou don't have to make dinner *huck* for me; I just came to say *hic* hi and make sure you were do-*huck*-ing ok!" Hannah explained. Even at close range, she still had to speak forcefully above the sound of the radio.
"Make sure what?" Grandma Dot asked. "Here, would you mind shutting that off?" she requested, motioning to the radio.
"Sure!" Hannah offered gladly. Stepping over to it, she scanned the dials and switches.
"You just mash that black button on the left," Grandma Dot instructed.
It was much easier to hear each other once Hannah got the radio turned off. "Now what were you saying, sweetheart?" Grandma Dot asked again.
"Just that I on-*hic*-ly came to say hi and see *hic* if you're doing ok," Hannah repeated.
"I'm doing just fine," Grandma Dot assured her. "I've been feeling pretty good today. How are you doing? You look tired."
Hannah sighed. "I'm ok, just *hic* kind of a long day at w-*huck* work. But that's fin-*hic*-ished now! Do you want any *huck* help with supper?" she offered.
"Only if you'll help me eat it!"
Hannah laughed. "Well, to be honest, *huck* that's about the only thing I'm *hic* good at when it comes to coo-*hic*-king! I wouldn't wa-*hic*-nt to make extra work for *hic* you, though."
"Good company is never extra work," Grandma Dot pointed out.
Hannah couldn't really argue with that! She loved seeing Grandma Dot and didn't really have anything else to do for supper, so she agreed to stay. "I thought I'd make a little chicken and rice," Grandma Dot suggested as she tottered toward the kitchen.
Hannah helped get the various ingredients together for Grandma Dot as they got started. "You know *hic* Juliana and her dad pretty mu-*hic*-ch don't let me into the kitch-*hic*-en without supervision, right?" she warned.
Grandma Dot chuckled. "You know, when I was young, I was pretty bad at cooking too. I had five older sisters, so between our Ma and them, they had the cooking covered. I got to wash dishes instead."
Hannah laughed. "Then how did you g-*hic* get so good at it?"
"Well, when I was nineteen, I got married, and heaven knows Herbert couldn't cook, so I had to learn! I've had a few years of practice since then."
"So maybe there's h-*hic*-ope for me yet!" Hannah giggled.
"There certainly is," Grandma Dot agreed. "What's amazing is that Herbert survived as long as he did! Here, you're tall, could you get the rice down from off that shelf?"
"Sure," Hannah agreed. She tried not to laugh; at five foot five, she'd never really thought of herself as tall. But Grandma Dot wouldn't be five feet tall even with heels on! "Here you *hic-ulk* go!" she said as she retrieved the canister of rice.
"You poor dear," Grandma Dot commented sympathetically. "Can't you do anything for those hiccups?"
"Nothing at all," Hannah answered resignedly. "It's ok though, *hic* I'm used to it. To be hon-*huck*-est, I hardly even notice them some-*hic*-times."
"I used to get the hiccups all the time as a child," Grandma Dot recounted. "My friends were always teasing me. But then when I was about your age, I just stopped getting them."
"I wouldn't know what to *hic* do if I never got the hiccups any-*hic*-more. I probably wouldn't *huck* even recognize myself!" Hannah joked.
There were a few moments of quiet as they continued working on dinner. Then Hannah had a question. "So what was y-*huck* your husband like? He's been *hic* gone a long time, right?"
Grandma Dot seemed to brighten at the memory of her husband. "He was the kindest, gentlest man," she began. "I guess he had to be, to get along with me! He worked at a lumber mill for years; he was very handy with construction and such. That's actually how he and I first met; my father hired him to help build our house. Nine months later, we were married."
Hannah giggled. "Oh wow, he real-*hic*-ly swept you off your feet!"
"He did. We were practically inseparable from the day we met," Grandma Dot recounted.
"That's so cute!"
"He built this house too, shortly after we were married. I suppose that's why I have a bit of an attachment to it," Grandma Dot explained.
The kitchen work seemed to fly by as Grandma Dot continued by recounting the birth of their twin children, Harry and Maureen. Eventually, Maureen was married, and had a little girl named Josephine, who would of course later become Mrs. Benson.
"Maureen's husband Victor flew airplanes; in fact he was a flight instructor down at the airport. Whenever we needed to go on a long trip, Victor would take us in his airplane," she continued the story. "So when my nephew Richard - Maureen's cousin - was getting married up in Ohio, we decided we would all go up together."
Listening to old people's stories can get pretty tedious sometimes, but Hannah found Grandma Dot's life story fascinating. Hannah had known her for years but this was the first time she'd really been with her one-on-one and gotten to hear about her life.
"But the day before we were fixing to leave, little Jo got very sick. A bad fever, throwing up everything, all that. She was about eight years old at that point. Going on the plane would have been even worse on her stomach, and aside from that, I was afraid she might have to go to the hospital. Maureen had to be in the wedding, though, so we decided that I would stay here with Jo while the rest of them went up to Ohio. So Josephine was sleeping in that room back there," she motioned toward one of the two bedrooms just down the hall, "when Herbert stopped by right before they left, just to make sure I had everything I needed."
"Aww, that was sw-*huck*-eet of him," Hannah commented.
"Oh yes, he was always like that. Always a protector, always looking after me - after everyone, really."
"That's adorable," Hannah smiled. "That's how *hic* Chris is with me; it's so c-*hic* cute and it always ma-*hic*-kes me feel really special."
Grandma Dot agreed. "Your man should always be like that. You just ought to be independent enough that it's a luxury, not a necessity!"
Hannah laughed. "I guess s-*hic* so!" It was kind of funny to hear Chris described as her "man", too! Interested in the rest of the story, she asked, "So what happ-*hic*-ened with Miss Jo?"
"Oh, she bounced back after just a few days, you know how kids are. I was disappointed that I was going to miss the wedding, but I was actually looking forward to a quiet weekend with my granddaughter. But that evening I got a call from my brother, saying that Victor and the rest of the family still hadn't arrived in Columbus. It wasn't long before we found out that they had run into a big storm, and the plane had crashed into a mountain in Kentucky."
"Oh my gosh," Hannah exclaimed. "That's *hic* - that's... horrible," she gasped.
"It was," Grandma Dot confirmed simply. "It was such a shock."
Hannah gently embraced Grandma Dot as tears started to find their way down the older woman's weathered face. Having experienced more than her share of loss in her own life, Hannah understood how long-ago pain can still hurt, even years later.
"I'm sorry, sometimes it still seems like it was just yesterday," Grandma Dot said as she composed herself.
"Oh, don't apo-*hic*-logize," Hannah answered comfortingly. "I totally understand. *huck* You never can completely *hic* get over something like that."
It was a few minutes before Hannah asked, "So then you *hic* pretty much raised Miss Jo from th-*hic*-ere?"
"Yes, it was just us, so she stayed with me until, well, really until she married Dave."
"Aww, well she could-*hic*-n't have asked for a better *huck* Grandma," Hannah said with a smile. "Who knows *hic* what she would have done with-*hic*-out you?"
Hannah eagerly listened to more of Grandma Dot's stories as they enjoyed their supper and washed up the few dishes. Then, with a warm hug, she said goodbye and headed home.
With Juliana and Mr. Davis gone, the house was dark, quiet, and a little chilly. Hannah shivered slightly as she turned on a couple lights and hung up her coat. She turned the heater up a little bit, and went to her room to change out of the khaki-colored jeans and snug red sweater that comprised her work outfit. In the middle of doing that, she had an even better idea: a warm bath.
Hannah wasn't usually one to take baths; that was Juliana's thing. Besides that, she had a couple big school assignments that were due when break was over, and she really needed to straighten up the bedroom. But that could all wait. Tonight, a bath sounded perfect for warming up, relaxing, and soothing her tired legs and feet. Maybe it would even help calm her hiccups!
Hannah scrounged through the cabinet in the bathroom, producing a nearly-empty bottle of bath bubbles. "I can get a new *hic* bottle for Juliana at work to-*hic*-morrow," she told herself as she emptied the bubble fluid into the running water, and then swished some extra water around the bottom of the empty bottle to get that last little bit out. She lit a couple candles, finished undressing, and was soon relaxing in the luxurious warmth of the water.
She thought about her conversation with Grandma Dot. She had always felt drawn to Miss Jo, as if they had something deeply in common, and now she felt like she understood why. She wondered, though, why Miss Jo had never told her about having lost her parents so early in her childhood, even after Hannah's own father had passed away several months ago. Maybe she had felt it would be awkward, given the stark difference between Miss Jo's loving family and Hannah's difficult relationship with her father. Maybe she hadn't wanted to let the story of her own loss take away from the comfort and attention she had helped provide Hannah. Maybe even after all these years, the pain she experienced in the aftermath of that tragic night was too much for her to talk about. Hannah decided she would ask Miss Jo about it the next time they were alone together. It might be hard, but it would be good for both of them.
Hannah had never really thought about it in quite that way, but the struggles and tragedy she had experienced so early in her life had blessed her with an uncanny ability to empathize with and understand the feelings of those who had suffered a loss, or who were going through hard times. Often what those who are hurting are in deepest need of is not eloquent words or lofty encouragement, but simply the quiet support of someone who has gone through the same trials before them. She hadn't even realized it, but Miss Jo had been that person for her. Now that she knew her whole story, she felt even more grateful to have Mrs. Benson in her life.
Grandma Dot was such a joy to be around, too. That's what Hannah hoped she would be like at that age: spunky, independent, and full of great stories. She'd love to be that good of a cook too, but she was pretty sure there wasn't much chance of that. Chris was definitely out of luck there!
Hannah lost track of time as she lay dreamily in the warm water. Ever frugal and practical, a bubble bath was a rare luxury for her, and she relished every moment, even after she'd had to add some extra hot water a couple times, and nearly all the bubbles had melted away. Everything seemed more at peace; more calm. Aside from her hiccups and the occasional comments she made aloud to no one in particular, everything was quiet and still. Even in spite of how loud her hiccups were tonight, particularly in the close confines of the bathroom, simply not having to keep them down was a calming relief.
It had always been nearly impossible for Hannah to keep her hiccups silent. Even at the most inopportune moments, when she had to do everything she possibly could to be quiet, they made an unmistakable *hmk!* sound in her nose. The cost of even that concession was the uncomfortable feeling of a harsh kick in her chest and throat every few seconds, so she kept her hiccups that contained only when absolutely necessary. Nonetheless, she did generally avoid letting her affliction be totally obnoxious. She could hardly explain how she did it, but years of uninvited practice had taught her how to instinctively moderate her hiccups to the familiar sharp, predictable *hic* that so often punctuated her conversations. Unlike attempts at silence, it was only mildly uncomfortable. This restraint wasn't even something she consciously thought about doing, yet only at moments like tonight - when she was alone, quiet, and totally relaxed - were her hiccups completely free to rack her body without the slightest interference.
Although they were more unpredictable - some making their typical sound, some more shrill, and many making that two-syllable *hic-cup!* sound that gave them their name - they didn't hurt this way, beyond the dull soreness in her chest to which Hannah was quite accustomed. With nothing else to demand her attention, Hannah noticed more markedly the way each hiccup felt. It felt a bit like an overly forceful heartbeat deep in her chest, generating a convulsive wave that moved quickly through her stomach. The weirdest part was how it felt like each one pressed her throat in. The effect on her whole body was strong enough that even the water around her in the bathtub was kept continually rippling. When she hiccupped as she was lying back in the water, her chest bounced just enough to barely break the surface of the water for a moment. "Maybe that's *hic* why Chris likes my hiccups so m-*hic*-uch!" she commented aloud.
She pondered what Grandma Dot had said about her own childhood problem with hiccups. Hannah didn't feel like she would ever stop getting the hiccups, but what if she did? What would that even be like? As frustrating as it could be to get the hiccups nearly every day, they felt like an inexorable part of her very identity. To Hannah, having the hiccups had long since ceased to be at all embarrassing: everyone knew she constantly got them, and even among strangers she wasn't self-conscious. They made friends giggle, they kept her and almost anyone else around from taking herself too seriously, and they were always a conversation-starter. And of course, Chris adored them! On the other hand, it was almost unthinkable to imagine: could there be a Hannah someday who could simply eat, drink, and laugh without the threat of not being able to breathe normally again for hours? Every now and then when she really did have to be taken seriously, would she really never have her efforts thwarted by incurable hiccups? She supposed that would also mean that hiccups would never keep her up at night again, people might identify her by something other than her lack of breath control, and there would be no reason for her chest to feel sore unless she started doing really tough workouts. Roger might even like her better! It all seemed quite foreign, but she figured it had to be pretty nice.
Hannah had to laugh as she found herself absentmindedly imagining herself as if she were someone else. Still, in spite of all the apparent benefits, Hannah couldn't imagine truly wanting to be anyone other than who she was. It was kind of a pain sometimes, but she'd gotten pretty good at it, hiccups and all. Like all the other curveballs life had thrown at her, the hiccups were simply a part of who she was, and she was ok with that.
Over on the countertop, Hannah's phone suddenly started to ring. Straining as far as she could, she was just barely able to grab it. It was Chris on the line. "Hey!" she greeted him cheerily.
"Hey sweetie," Chris answered. "How are you tonight?"
Hannah sighed contentedly. "I'm doing gr-*hic*-eat! I'm soaking in a warm bath *hic* right now."
"That sounds nice! How was work today?"
"It was pretty bad," Hannah admitted. "I w-*huck* was late getting up and so I *hic* ended up getting there late. Mr. *hic* Jenkins is gone on vacation and the guy fill-*hic*-ing in for him chewed me out for b-*hic*-eing late. Then when I got the hiccups he *hic* sent me to work out in the store *hic* instead of at my register because he said *hic* I was unprofessional. So here I *hic* was, wandering around the store all aft-*hic*-ernoon trying find where everything goes."
"That's so mean! Sounds like a pretty miserable day!" he said sympathetically.
"It was rough, but every-*huck*-thing's better now," Hannah assured him.
"Well, except for your hiccups," Chris teased.
Hannah giggled. "They're really n-*hic* not so bad; at least I still have *hic* them for you!"
"That's so sweet of you," he laughed.
"Oh you *hic* know it, I aim to please!" she said with a grin.
After they had chatted and teased a bit more, Chris suggested, "Hey, I know it's kinda late but do you want to come over and hang out tonight?"
"Aww, I'd l-*hic* love to but I really should *hic* get some stuff done tonight. I've *huck* got these stupid assignments to fin-*huck*-ish, plus I should really clean up s-*hic*-ome. And that's assuming I don't *hic* fall asleep the minute I get out of this *hic* bath!"
"Yeah, you must be pretty tired. I could come help you with the cleaning and stuff if you want," he offered.
"You're so sw-*hic*-eet!" Hannah gushed. "That would definitely make it *hic* a lot more fun! You don't *hic* have to do that, though."
"I'd love to," he assured her. "When would be good for you?"
"Um, give me like f-*hic* fifteen minutes maybe?" she answered.
"Sounds good! I love you so much, Hannah."
"Awww I love you too! *hic* See you in a little bit."
Even after saying goodbye, Hannah couldn't wipe the smile off her face. Could Chris possibly be any sweeter? That was the other great thing about all the crazy stuff that came along with being Hannah: without all of that, who knows if she would have even met him!
Hannah started to rise from the water to reach for a towel, but as she did, she began to slip on the slick porcelain of the bathtub beneath her. As she tried to catch herself, her phone slipped from her wet hands, bounced against the rim of the bathtub, and splashed into the water next to her. She screamed and quickly retrieved the phone from the bath, dripping and blank-screened.
Hannah resignedly set the phone back on the counter as she managed to successfully stand up. She might be at peace with her complicated past and her uncontrollable hiccups, but if a different Hannah could be a little less of a klutz, maybe it would be a trade worth looking into after all!