Riding the Mist: The Ballad of Half-Moon

Miss Eugenia’s cane likely could have been heard by most within the Berry household as she slowly made her way back to her chambers. But Phee was so engrossed in reading, she did not notice until her auntie came within a few feet of her. “Auntie! It is truly wonderful you walked elsewhere in the house.” Phee turned her gaze down to the floor. “I should have gone with you. To make sure you were all right. It has been such a long time you left these rooms.” “No, dear. It was perfectly fine. I got a little tired, but I sat and rested. I believe I may have frightened poor Mrs. Childers, though. She burst into the dining room, perhaps expecting an intruder. She held her broom like a weapon! Imagine her surprise in seeing me.” Miss Eugenia cackled. Not chuckled, but cackled, her voice betraying her more advanced age. Phee sighed in relief and strode to her aunt to assist her to the wingchair. “Ophelia, I would prefer to lie in bed a short while. I need to rest. But I look forward to further ...

Miss Eugenia ventured from the vestibule to the chamber opposite her door. The room served as parlor and library, and when a fire was in the fireplace, it was a pleasant place to be. But as no one was expected to inhabit the room that day—Mr. Berry being away at work and Phee usually either in her bedchamber or her auntie’s chambers—neither Miss Martin nor Mrs. Childers had bothered. Miss Eugenia rubbed her arms and continued through the pocket doors in the back of the parlor to the dining chamber where Mrs. Childers kept a fire going. The kitchen was below the dining chamber, a half-story below ground level, with a short flight of steps up to the ground, then another flight up to the main floor of the residence. There was a dumbwaiter to bring food from the kitchen upstairs to the dining chamber. Mrs. Childers slept in the room in front of the kitchen, accessible to the street by a half-flight of steps upward. Through her front entrance, Mrs. Childers journeyed to the various shops an...

  “This seems to be a good place to stop, Auntie.” For the first time, Phee had grown weary before her aunt. “As you wish, dear Ophelia. Are you still enjoying the story, or are you now reading it for my entertainment?” Though Miss Eugenia believed the former to be true, she wanted assurance. “Of course! My goodness, I always am anxious to read what happens next! But tonight, I have grown tired and my throat has begun to hurt. For both reasons, I shall bid you a good evening, auntie.” Phee bent over and gave her auntie a light kiss on the cheek. The elderly lady was unaccustomed to any show of affection beyond kind words, so the gesture brought tears to her eyes which she held at bay until her niece exited the room. Sleep did not come easily for Ophelia. There was much to ponder. What she thought would be a simple tale had metamorphosized into one which made her think even more deeply than she did when she read one of Jane Austen’s romances. She heard the mantle clock downstairs ch...

Phee’s voice became raspy. She thought it would be a good time to pause and drink some water. Tea was available, too, but it seemed to her the liquid only dried out her throat even more. One exception was when there was peppermint tea available. After refreshing her voice, Phee sat in her straight chair once more. She briefly entertained the idea that the wingchair from her bedchamber should be brought down to her auntie’s chamber, but such would require considerable effort. She could bear more time in the hard chair, she decided. Phee wondered how much further she would be able to read that day but resumed before her auntie might reconsider. I received a note from Mother in response to my correspondence that it may be a while before I return. She stated I need not worry. They received pleasant surprises which, at first, bewildered and shamed them, but now they have gratefully accepted the gifts. When the slaves picked up my possessions, they brought a turkey. They declared it was in ...

Phee did not hear any stirrings from Miss Eugenia’s room, so she thought it would be a good time to return the journal. She had just laid it upon the small table next to her auntie’s favorite chair when Miss Eugenia sat up in bed. “You have had my journal for a while now. Tell me, how far did you read?” “Oh! Aunt Eugenia, I did not know you were awake!” It was no use to fib about reading, as the old lady could always tell. But Phee hoped her aunt would not inquire. “Dearest Ophelia, I understand curiosity. And I am deeply flattered my book holds your attention. But as you know, I never intended for anyone to read it. Once you discovered it, though, I thought it would be best to read it together. So, have you gotten to the spot you read out of context? That one paragraph? The one which surprised you that I could write such a thing?” Phee let out her breath in one deep exhale. It seemed Aunt Eugenia was not as disturbed as she feared. She rubbed her neck and studied the floor. Her respon...