Hannah's Rainbow: Every Color Beautiful

Chapter Thirteen

The funeral was three days later. Hannah made her way to the front of the sanctuary, sat with her immediate family surrounding her, and listened to the minister speak of Grossmutter's life. The words did little to fill the void inside. While the tears coursed slowly down Hannah's cheeks during the memorial service, Pastor Jones's eulogy was muffled and drowned by a hundred different thoughts.

How could a fifteen minute eulogy sum up a person's life? When the service ended, Hannah watched as Uncle John, Pa, Uncle Ernest, and Aunt Claire's husband, Uncle William, took up their spots as the pallbearers.

When the time came for the second row to exit, Hannah kept her eyes straight ahead. Seeing Ma's bowed head, Aunt Claire's arm around her, prompted Hannah to weep again. She suddenly felt someone's arm around her shoulders and looked up to find Harry beside her. A deep frown covered his face, and his eyes were also looking forward.

Although it wasn't raining, the early November sky was overcast. Few words were exchanged as people got into cars and lined up to drive to Forest View Cemetery.

"How are you holding up?" Harry whispered to Hannah in the back of their Cadillac.

Irma was sitting in the middle, her parents in the front seat. Amy, Jack, Erik, and Lily drove separately.

"I suppose as well as can be expected," she replied, meeting his eyes.

"I'm glad I got to know her this long in my life," Harry said.

"Me, too. I don't suppose it gets any easier... losing loved ones, I mean."

They lapsed into silence again. Ma and Pa said not a word, but followed the hearse as the rest of the procession filled in behind them. At the cemetery, Hannah stepped out into mud and trudged through the sodden earth to the site. The wind was fierce and merciless as it whipped around those gathered at the graveside to lay to rest Katarina Vernor Grosner.

The headstone already bore her name, the birth date marked as January 25, 1844. Beside her name was her late husband's, Johan Grosner (born February 17, 1843; died January 15, 1914). Soon, Grossmutter's date of death would be added to the headstone, but she would forever remain in Hannah's heart.

x x x x x

When Hannah returned to school, her report on Hamlet was due. In the past couple of days, Hannah's throat had become sore. Having already missed a few days, Hannah forced herself to walk to school through chilling wind.

Since waking that morning, a persistent cough developed, and Hannah was beginning to wonder if coming to school had been smart.

English was third period. She took her seat toward the back of the classroom and stared down at the report she'd typed yesterday and hoped it was satisfactory. Mr. Evans, the teacher, stood at the front of the classroom and closed the door. Hannah didn't care for the man. He was near fifty, a bachelor, and balding, with round spectacles that enlarged the appearance of his eyes. Whenever he looked at a student, there was no escaping his penetrating gaze.

"I trust you all have your reports ready," he said in a reedy voice, rocking on his feet. "We will be sharing part of them with the class. Each of you are to stand up and read the part of Hamlet that was your favorite, with a detailed analysis. I don't want to hear elementary answers from anyone."

Hannah's stomach flip-flopped. Her already uncomfortable throat constricted further, and she swallowed down a cough, which only made it worse when it erupted a few seconds later in a fit. She received a few stares from other students, but the teacher droned on, indicating that they would start at the back of the classroom and work their way forward.

There were only three students ahead of Hannah. When her turn came, she gripped the report and stood, moving to the front of the classroom. She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she met Mr. Evans's unnerving gaze.

"My favorite part," Hannah croaked, then began coughing. Clearing her throat, she started again. "My favorite part was Hamlet's famous 'To be or not to be' speech because he's questioning what's better: life or death. Well, I just lost my grossmutter - that's German for grandmother - in the past week."

Hannah went on to explain how, even though terrible things happen, like losing loved ones, her grossmutter's life had been a testimony to what was worthwhile and beautiful. "I am grateful to have had her in my life for as long as I did. Life is precious and short. That's what's beautiful about it. Maybe if Hamlet had seen that and not all that was bad, he would have realized that living is the better option. While death might be terrible, it's worse for those left behind."

I sound like a frog, she thought by the end of her speech.

Despite her condition, Mr. Evans took no pity on her. Concerned throughout the whole speech that she was making a fool of herself, Hannah had been pushing down on the cracked cork of the ink bottle she hadn't realized she'd been holding. By the time she finished, she gazed down at her hand and gasped. It was black! She quickly set the report on the teacher's desk and returned to her seat.

When class was over, she might as well have been released from hell itself. Hannah darted to the closest bathroom and locked herself in one of the stalls. She couldn't stop the tears.

Lunch was the following period, so Hannah sat on the toilet and wept, silencing herself only when the occasional girl came into the restroom. She considered going to the school nurse and seeing about going home early, but as she didn't have a fever, she didn't think it likely her wish would be granted.

Maybe Hamlet had the right idea about life's misery, after all.

x