Episode 8

Phee entered her auntie’s bedchamber haltingly, head down, book hidden in her skirts.

“Ah! There you are!”

It amazed Phee that as weak as her grand-aunt’s voice sounded, her words lacked no energy. Were it not for a wave of Miss Eugenia’s hand beckoning her grand-niece toward the bed, Phee may have retreated from the doorframe she grasped.

Seeing the timidity of the young woman, Miss Eugenia attempted to sound less harsh.

“Now, Ophelia, I cannot find the little journal I was sharing with you to read aloud. Perhaps you were keeping it safe from other prying eyes while I was temporarily indisposed.”

Phee, relieved for the opportunity for no retribution, approached and handed it to her grand-aunt.

“Miss Ophelia, I must have your word. You will not read a single word from this book without being in my presence. I appreciate that you kept it for me, but I could not rest easy worrying whether you were reading it alone.”

Phee remained silent, hoping there was not an inferred question. She did not wish to admit to anything.

“Your word, Ophelia. Please.”

“I promise, auntie.” Phee hoped that within the promise was hope she could read the book whenever her aunt rested. She could remain in the chamber, perhaps, and read freely.

“Miss Ophelia, you perhaps wonder why I am insistent. I am not just a cantankerous, mad old woman. I have my reasons.” Miss Eugenia rearranged herself to sit propped up by pillows. However, instead of elucidating, she suggested her grand-niece continue with the tale.

Phee broke into a grin. But she wondered what her elder alluded to, then decided it was of no pressing matter. Time to read!

Two weeks after I visited the McQueens at Fairhaven, I received a note from Zora which spoke of her mending health. She was hopeful I might visit and requested I return forthwith with her driver.

What a delight! As I believe my relations will find it a relief when I am absent, I thus returned to Fairhaven with the two Uchee slaves their mistress sent.

So certain Zora was of my imminent arrival, an assortment of delectables was laid out along with tea and a pitcher of water awaited me in the now familiar back parlor. After several minutes passed, a servant came in and informed me I was to follow her upstairs.

Zora’s bedchamber was nothing but magnificent!

Ornate rugs cover the polished mahogany flooring. The furniture, too, is mahogany, intricately carved. When the servant ushered me in, the mistress of the house instructed her to fling open the shutters to admit more light. She was propped up in bed amongst a sea of silken pillows of gold and silver thread.

“I so hoped to join you in the parlor, Miss Jones…”

“Call me Charlotte, please, if you still wish me to call you Zora,” I replied with a grin. “It is so wonderful to see you. I hope we may consider ourselves friends now.”

She smiled. It was a relief to discover she yet had a sense of humor. I continued.

“It delights me to be here today, and the invitation truly is an honor. I would have visited you earlier, but I thought perhaps I would be intruding.”

She patted the mattress. “Please, sit close. It takes effort to speak,” said she.

Given the circumstances of her remaining in bed and her difficulty in conversing, I was I was alarmed.

“I am so sorry you have taken ill, Zora. I shall do what I can to brighten your day.”

“According to the healers, I am not ill. They believe I should stroll through the meadows.” She looked out the window behind me, tilting her head to get a better view. A gentle breeze wafted throughout the chamber.

“You doubtless were told I am with child. I also have a weak heart. I suppose the doctor was correct in his assessment.” Her voice trailed off.

I reached over and took her hand, which appeared so pale upon the quilted coverlet. “Oh, Zora, I am so very sorry.”

“Today, I thought we could go outside, it being so lovely. But I failed to even stand upright.”

I knew well my face was registering my concern, and it was pointless to pretend otherwise.

I offered, “Might it be helpful if we two could promise to always be forthright with each other?”

It was a wan smile that greeted me. “Of course,” she whispered. “That would be refreshing.”

As each moment passed, my new friend appeared to be fading. I intended to talk to her about a few matters but decided they could wait.

“Zora, please do not worry about speaking. I shall stay with you, only leaving when you wish it so.” The corners of her mouth crept upward, and she dropped asleep.

I gestured to the servant who was standing across the room and requested a chair. I took Zora’s hand and sat, bending forward to hold onto my friend. After a while, my forehead slipped to the bed, and I slept.

It was late afternoon when I awoke, judging by the position of the sun then shining through the window. It cast its warmth on my shoulders. Seated on the other side of the chamber was Chief Half-Moon. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading and, in a manner to not disturb Zora, asked if I had enjoyed my nap.

It embarrassed me to discover saliva had escaped my mouth, dribbling to my chin. I wiped it with my sleeve. While remaining asleep, Zora withdrew her hand from mine and shifted away which freed me to arise. I motioned I was departing.

The chief followed me into the hallway.

“I shall leave,” said I as I rose to descend the stairs. “I regret I slept.”

Then I thought of something and turned toward him.

Chief Half-Moon was behind me, so that when I spun around, I bumped into him. He deftly grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him to keep me from falling down the steps.

I inquired looked up into those oceans of blue gazing at me and could not help but blush.

Phee stopped to glance at Miss Eugenia. Expecting her to be asleep as no sound had come from her in many minutes, she instead witnessed her beloved relative smiling with a faraway look on her face.

Phee gently placed the book on a small table near the woman’s bedside and she silently left the room, closing the door behind her.