Wild Thunder

Finally there, White Beaver handed Strong Wolf the large bell.

As Strong Wolf steadied the bell against the roof, White Beaver scrambled onto the roof beside him.

Hannah held her breath as Strong Wolf and White Beaver inched their way to the small steeple that had been built on the very top center of the roof, where the bell would ring every school day morning.

“I hope they don’t slip,” Hannah said, giving Clara a nervous glance.

“Lord, if they do . . .” Clara gasped, eyes wide as she watched them.

Hannah’s gaze held on Clara for a moment, warmed through and through to see her sister so healthy. Two years older than Hannah, tall and slim like Hannah, Clara stood with her back straight and shoulders squared. Her shawl partially hid a high-necked white blouse beneath it that was trimmed with delicate lace. Clara also wore a black velvet skirt that only barely showed her black patent-leather shoes as the brisk breeze shifted the hem from place to place.

Hannah smiled to herself as she gazed at her sister’s hair. Clara wore it the same now, as she had for so long. Her brown hair was swept up in a tight bun at the back of her head.

Hannah’s gaze shifted to Clara’s gold-rimmed eyeglasses that were perched on a long, straight nose. Her sister’s cheeks were pink with excitement, the dimples on each cheek deepening whenever her thin lips would quiver into an excited smile.

Strong Wolf’s voice and the loud applause and shouts from the crowd drew Hannah’s eyes back around. She gazed up at her husband, sighing when she saw that he and White Beaver had managed to get the bell hung. To her it was so beautiful. The meaning behind it was so wonderful. These lovely children would now learn ways to fight back when the whites tormented them in their future.

It was wonderful to know that the way these children would defend themselves would not have to be with weapons, but with words, and the knowledge of reading and mathematics.

Yes, the future for the children was bright, and she was proud to be a part of it all!

“Let us now hear how it sounds!” Strong Wolf shouted from the rooftop. He dropped a rope that was attached to the bell through a small hole in the roof, down to the one room of the schoolhouse.

The people became even more excited when they heard the bell begin to toll. The children began to dance and sing. The women rushed to the large outdoor fire where they had placed pots of food for a celebration. The elderly gazed in wonder at the school once again, then went back to smoking their pipes beside the fire.

“Hannah, they’ve done it!” Clara said, clasping Hannah’s hand harder as the bell’s peals resounded through the air, clear, crisp, and beautiful. “Do you hear it? Isn’t it the loveliest sound?”

Hannah smiled over at Clara. “Yes, so lovely,” she murmured. “And, Clara, I can never tell you enough times how happy I am that you have chosen to teach here at the Potawatomis village. You could have chosen to teach even as far away as New York state. It would be much too long between visits.”

Clara, tears rushing from her eyes, turned to Hannah and drew her into her embrace. “I have you to thank for so much,” she murmured. “You, Father, and Mother. If you hadn’t cared for me, night and day, during my recent illness, I wouldn’t have made it. I never want to be far from my family, and Lord knows that Saint Lou

is is far enough away from Mother and Father.”

“We’ll go as often as we can,” Hannah said, then stepped away from Clara and placed her hands over the small ball of her belly that stretched the cotton material of her dress tautly across it. “But I won’t be doing much traveling myself. Not until my child is born.”

“I can hardly wait to be an aunt,” Clara sighed, gazing down at Hannah’s show of pregnancy.

“The baby kicked!” Hannah said, eyes wide.

“Let me feel it,” Clara said.

Hannah inched her hands aside, to make room for Clara’s.

Clara’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my Lord, Hannah,” she said. “I do feel it.”

Then Clara let out a squeal of delight. “And I feel something more,” she cried. “The child moved, kind of like rolling. I could swear I felt an elbow!”

“Or a knee?” Strong Wolf said as he stepped up to them. He swept an arm around Hannah’s waist. “My little miracle worker wife. She is making a baby whose spirit matches its mother’s.”

Clara laughed softly, then smiled at White Beaver as he came to stand beside her.

“The schoolhouse is finished,” White Beaver said, his dark eyes gazing into Clara’s. “I would like to go inside with you to see it, Clara.”

Hannah’s eyes widened with surprise when Clara walked away with him, toward the school.

Now having a reason to, Hannah gave White Beaver a second, lingering stare. He was a shorter man than Strong Wolf, yet as muscled. He stood at least one head shorter than Clara. He was at least ten years older than Clara, who was twenty.

Hannah had noticed before that White Beaver’s facial features were not as chiseled as Strong Wolf’s, yet he was handsome in his own way. He generated much warmth as he spoke to people, and he had replaced Proud Heart in Strong Wolf’s life, as best friend. He and Strong Wolf were inseparable now, their logic always matching the others. They laughed and talked and challenged each other in games.