What they really think

Today, I am talking with Hannah’s sisters, Hilda Russell and May Garr. They have recently learned that their aunt, Gertrude Oaks, has had Hannah committed to the Brookdale Lunatic Asylum in New York State.

Author: Good afternoon, ladies. Thank you for joining me today. As you know, I’m trying to make sense of what is going on with Hannah True. Do you believe she is really insane?

Neither woman speaks.

Author: If you were to describe your sister Hannah in one word, what would that word be?

Hilda and May in unison: Embarrassment.

Author: I had not expected such agreement. Why have you chosen embarrassment? May, would you like to speak first?

May: She has never behaved or dressed as a proper lady of her social class. She wore those awful bloomers for what seemed like forever, even after her suffragist idol, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, abandoned them. Then there was the way she traveled about the countryside on her own or with that itinerant Irishman, Ryan O’Rourke.

Hilda: That was Cordelia who did that.

May: Well, Hannah was friends with him. He stopped at the hotel often enough when he was traversing the countryside between Denver and New York City. Socializing with the Irish! Really! Facing the ladies in my sewing club was difficult whenever he was in town.

Author: I think you are getting off topic. Let’s focus on Hannah and your opinion of her. Hilda, why did you say she is an embarrassment?

Hilda: Isn’t being insane enough? I always knew there was something wrong with her. She has never accepted a woman’s role in life. The Bible says the man is the head of the household. I suppose that is why she has never married. She always wants to take control of everyone. She interfered with Minerva’s marriage to the point Hiram had to move his family out west to get away from her. And all that demonstrating for women’s rights. I’ve thought of another word to describe her. May I share it?

Author: Very well. What is it and why?

Hilda: Scandalous. It was not only her behavior with that O’Rourke person. It was traveling from New York to here and back with that Paul Simmons. From the red hair, I would say he was Irish, too. Regardless of that, as a minister, Graham was mortified to have his sister-in-law behaving in such a loose manner. And poor Aunt Gertrude, having to commit her niece to a lunatic asylum. How that must have damaged her reputation in the New York social circles she is a part of. Thankfully, no one in Westport knows about that. While the telegraph brought us the distressing news of her membership in a spiritualist group that claims to communicate with the dead, at least, commitment to an asylum was not part of that story.

Author: Do you both believe that Hannah may truly be insane? May?

May: Absolutely.

Author: Hilda.

Hilda: What else could cause her to behave in such a way? She is obviously possessed by demons, and that has caused her to lose her senses. That is what my husband believes.

Author: I’ll be interviewing your husbands next and getting their opinions first hand. For now, thank you, ladies, for telling me what you really think about Hannah True.

For more on the Pierce family and Hannah’s adventures, visit my Amazon author page.

Also, Undercurrents is now available in paperback.

Previously, the spirit of Jennie’s brother appeared to her with advice: Don’t let anyone know you’ve seen me when you are awake. Meanwhile, Ella struggles to be a good big sister and protect Jennie from their uncle’s wrath. In this post, Lucy comes to visit.

Lucy

It had been a week since I last attempted to visit Jennie and Ella. This morning, Aunt Hilda was conducting a ladies’ meeting at the church, and Aunt May was attending. With my uncles at their respective work places, church and bank, it was the perfect time to see my sisters.

Upon my arrival at Aunt Hilda’s, I knocked at the door, but there was no answer. I walked around the parsonage and found them on their knees, working in the vegetable garden. I rushed toward them, calling out their names as I crossed the yard between the back of the house and the garden. .

They stood, smiled, waved, and ran toward me.

Ella’s breath came in puffs as she reached my side. “Lucy, it’s been so long.”

“Forever,” Jennie agreed, and both girls threw their arms around me.

I hugged them close. Jennie sobbed and her shoulders shook. “What is it?” I asked, alarmed by her obvious distress.

Ella stood back, and her sad eyes gazed into mine. “The usual thing. Her dreams about our brother and bad things that might happen. I’ve told her not to say anything, but she doesn’t always listen.”

“How can I stay quiet if someone is in danger and I know it,” Jennie said. “What good is knowing if I can’t help?”

Ella scrunched her face. “Do you think Aunt Hannah will come for us? We could write her and tell her how bad it is.”

I shook my head. “We can’t. She has no money or work to make any. She would feel so bad if we told her how bad life is here, so we must promise not to tell her in a letter or if she comes to visit. She will make a home for us as soon as she can. Until then, we must make her believe our lives are pleasant.” I looked steadily into their eyes. “Promise.”

They met my gaze. “Promise,” they said in unison.

What’s next for this blog?

This is the final post in the “Life with Aunts” series. Since Undercurrents will go live on Amazon on April 30, I may post a brief scene from the book next week. Coming attractions for this blog will include information on Book 3 in the series, which has a working title of Overcoming. I’ll be posting character bios and historical research into places and events in the new novel. If you like what you see here, please click the follow button.

Undercurrents is on preorder now. Order a copy here.

Both Ella and Jennie have gone to bed. Ella, now ten years old, reflects on their life with Aunt May and Uncle Russell.

Ella

I lay in the dark beside Jennie and listened to her sniffling, knowing she was crying, not knowing what to do. Lucy can’t help us. No one can. Uncle Graham and Aunt Hilda were convinced a demon possessed my little sister, and they were punishing her.

The first dream I could remember her having was about Mark. She didn’t say anything about it until after he died—months after the border ruffians had attacked Pa. She had seen that in a dream too but thought it was just a nightmare. She knew when Ma was dying. But we all knew that even though we didn’t admit it to each other.

When we came to live with Aunt Hannah at the hotel, Jennie finally told us about her dreams. Aunt Hannah was nice about it although I could see she wasn’t sure Jennie’s dreams were really prophecies of what was to come. And why did a dream have to be caused by a demon? Joseph in the Old Testament had dreams. Uncle Graham didn’t say Joseph was possessed.

Aunt Hannah was gone, and Lucy was with Aunt May, and we were stuck here with Uncle Graham and Aunt Hilda. Lucy was wearing nice clothes and getting ready to go to parties and have beaus while Jennie and I were just servants to Uncle Graham and his church.

Beside me, Jennie’s sniffling stopped and her breathing deepened. She was sleeping. I gripped the blanket around my shoulders and wondered when sleep would come for me. There were chores to do tomorrow: beds to make, floors to scrub, meals to cook. School was two months away. For the first time, I longed to go there, anything to get out of this house for a few hours a day. An awful thought worked its way into my thoughts: What if Uncle Graham wouldn’t let us go to school. He didn’t think girls needed an education. He’d always griped about Aunt Hannah wasting time educating us. In spite of all my dark thoughts, sometime in the night, I fell asleep. 

Jennie’s flapping arms and shouts woke me.

“No! No!” she cried out.

I rolled out of the way of her flailing fists and pulled the blanket tight around her so she couldn’t hit me. “Wake up, Jennie. You’re dreaming.”

After a short struggle, her body quieted, but she was still crying.

“What is it, Jennie.” My face was close to hers. A sliver of moonlight allowed me to see her eyes. She seemed to be looking past me.

“I won’t,” she said.

“Won’t what?” I asked, letting go of the blanket because she’d stopped fighting me.

The door to our room flew open, and Aunt Hilda stood illuminated by the lamp Uncle Graham, standing behind her, held. Both were in their nightclothes.

“What’s going on in here?” Aunt Hilda demanded.

Jennie sat up. “My stomach hurts.” She pressed her hands to her belly and gagged.

“Don’t make a mess on the bed,” Aunt Hilda said. “Go on.”

Jennie sprang from the bed, ran past them, and headed down the stairs and out the door. “She didn’t have anything to eat since this morning,” I said. Well, not that they knew of. I had given her the biscuit and meat. I hoped no one checked for crumbs. I prayed God would forgive me for lying. I remembered the first lies I ever told were about food. Mrs. Collins had brought us something when Ma was sick, and we ate it before Pa got home. There were lots of things we learned it was best not to tell Pa. The same was true here. I didn’t believe Jennie’s upset stomach had anything to do with food, but I wasn’t going to say so.

Come back next week for the last episode in this blog series and an update on the Adventures of Hannah True.