Lovey

Within a half hour Hannah had given up hope of reaching her lunch and had decided to keep watch instead. She turned one of the small chairs to face the closet, and for the next hour and a half she sat with her back to the rest of the room and her eyes on her lunch, or occasionally on the clock.

With Hannah quiet, some peace returned to the room. Gradually, the boys drifted back to their desks or one of the round tables, going from time to time to check on their work schedules or to get new books from their cubbies. Each day I made up a new schedule for each child and taped it to the counter above his cubby. I tried to list each task, each separate page that was to be done that day, so that as they finished a page or particular assignment they could cross it off and immediately see what to do next. This gave them satisfaction in the accomplishment and a structured, constructive way to move around.

By eleven forty-five an amazing amount had been accomplished, and the boys put their things away and went to get washed for lunch. Hannah obviously wasn’t going to move. There wasn’t a chance that she would leave that lunch bag. Although her hands and face were as dirty as ever, washing seemed like a matter of small importance compared to what lay ahead: I was going to have to get that paper bag from behind the pipe and then take it down to Patty’s room, the same room where we had Circle.

I skipped washing myself and sat with Hannah while the boys were gone. She paid absolutely no attention to me. I sat beside her in a chair the same size as hers, but she didn’t turn her head a fraction of an inch. We both silently stared at the crumpled paper bag, which now seemed enormous in size. Better tell Hannah what was going to happen. If she was like me, she would like to be prepared ahead of time.

‘At twelve o’clock I’m going to get down your lunch and take it to Patty’s room so that you can eat with us today. No more alone in the closet. Okay?’

Not a flicker.

I decided to be optimistic. ‘Okay. Good. That’s all set, then.’

I knew what I was going to do. I was going to cut whatever sandwich there was in the bag into four small squares and let Hannah eat them one at a time, while we ate with her.

Ate with her? Eat with her? I sat up straight. How could I be so stupid? She’d need somebody to show her how, somebody to eat a sandwich with her. I didn’t have a sandwich. Neither did the boys. Zoe, our secretary, warmed a donated casserole each day for the school lunch, and we all ate that together. But to ask Hannah to give up her lunch and eat casserole was not fair. I’d promised her that sandwich.

I glanced at the clock at the same time Hannah did, and our eyes brushed for a second. Eleven fifty-five. I got up and walked as quietly as I could to the door, not wanting to set off any vibrations. ‘Be back in just a minute.’

Hannah rose in protest.

‘Really. I’ll be back by twelve o’clock. Just have to do something for a second.’

Down the hall, into the furnace room. Somewhere in the refrigerator was a jar of peanut butter that we kept for emergencies. Okay. Now bread. No bread … Oh, there it is, in the vegetable drawer. Now a knife. Good. Okay. No time to make a sandwich now.

I trotted back to our room, opened the door slowly, took a chair, and went straight to the closet and pried Hannah’s lunch from behind the pipe.

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