Tomorrow, Jennifer Alyssa Brown Hanna will turn 34! I thought, in honor of her birthday, it might be fun to take a peek into her little-girl mind. The following is a story she wrote in 2002 about an incident that occurred when she was about six years old. Enjoy!
Curious Eyes
by Jennifer Hanna, April 2002
"Do you think she's asleep?" Katie asked.
"No. Her eyes are open." Jenny replied.
"Do you think she's a vampire?"
"No. Maybe she got a seizure like Robby's."
Robby lived down the street. At six months he had been sick with dangerously high fevers. His brain was left damaged by the spinal meningitis and he experienced seizures often. As a result, he always wore a helmet to protect his head when he fell with an oncoming seizure. The girls never noticed that the seizures were abnormal. They only noticed that Robby had them.
"I don't think so," Katie said. "She's not shaking. Maybe her spirit left."
"My mom said when your spirit goes to heaven you are died and we will miss you until we are in heaven too," Jenny said smartly.
"Do you think she's died?" Katie gasped.
"No. Max's stomach didn't breathe when he was died, remember?"
Katie nodded. Earlier that summer, Max, the big sheep dog that Jenny's family boarded, had died on the patio. The girls had found him, but not before the flies. Jenny's mother had tried to explain death to them, but Jenny got confused and was sure that Max's spirit lived under her bed. In the mornings she would throw herself out of bed fearing that if she landed near the edge, Max's spirit would bite her ankle.
Four small eyes continued to look down at little Melissa who lay motionless in front of the T.V. Mary Poppins was on. It was a favorite of the girls. They had once spent hours jumping off the bumper of the old 1974 Plymouth Duster, umbrellas in hand, hoping to jump high enough next time to float to the ground like Mary Poppins. They eventually blamed their floating failure on the bumper. It was too skinny to get a good foothold before the leap.
"Maybe she's ignoring us," Jenny suggested. "Sarah says she's ignoring me sometimes and then she won't look at me."
"Melissa, are you ignoring us?" Katie asked in her high, loud, snotty voice. Melissa said nothing. She continued to lie on her side, her eyes unblinkingly fixed on the chimney sweep dancers.
"That's what Sarah does when she ignores me," Jenny stated, hands on hips. The girls stared down at the listless Melissa, not totally convinced about the process of ignoring.
Just then, Michael bumped his way into the room. The four small eyes left Melissa in unison and focused on baby Michael, bottle in hand. "Missa wook!" he said proudly pointing a slobbery finger at Melissa. He waddled closer but fell before he reached Melissa. Both girls looked at him, neither making an effort to pick him up before they returned their gaze back to Melissa.
"Maybe we should get Ca Sue," Jenny suggested, giving up on figuring out why her baby sister lay motionless on her side, eyes plastered open.
"MOOOOOM!" Katie yelled, feet planted firm, never making an effort to go find her mother.
Carole Sue rounded the corner from the kitchen, dishtowel in hand, wiping soap bubbles off her tiny wrists. Her questioning smile turned into a horrible face of shock when she saw Melissa. It made Katie and Jenny jump to attention. Four little eyes became four huge egg eyes as they watched Carole Sue run at Melissa. Her housedress flapped behind her leaving a trail of dish soap sent in her wake. She dove on top of Melissa, her dress slowly settling over the small body until Jenny and Katie could only see Melissa's head and cement white eyes. Carole Sue scooped Melissa up, shook her like a dirty tablecloth, and repeatedly yelled Melissa's name. Jenny and Katie stood shocked by the sudden explosion of commotion. Their feet were glued to the floor, their hands stitched to their thighs. They stood at a slight angle as if the wind from Carole Sue's dress was threatening to blow them over.
All of a sudden, Melissa jerked to life. Though her eyes had already been open, light sprang into them as though they'd been closed for hours. Melissa looked wide-eyed at Carole Sue in surprise. Carole Sue looked wide-eyed at Melissa in exasperated relief. Katie and Jenny looked wide-eyed at them in confusion. Michael picked his nose. For a few moments no one except Mary Poppins said anything or moved.
Finally, realizing that little Melissa had just fallen asleep with her eyes open, Carole Sue began to breathe again. She set Melissa down and stumbled out of the room, drunk with the relief that a young child hadn't died on her living room carpet.
Jenny and Katie blinked the confusion off in unison and turned their attention over to Michael who was eating the dirt from the base of the fichus tree.
"Do you think he will get the poison from the dirt?" Katie asked. "Mom told me yesterday not to let him eat the purple flower because he'd get the poison." Jenny shrugged as both girls waited to see what the poison would make Michael do.
