Episode 18

Miss Eugenia’s eyes flew open. She raised herself upon her elbows in her bed as she blurted out, “Ophelia! You must rejoin the world around you!”

Phee set aside the journal to stare at her great-aunt. She had been thinking a similar thought, but it was startling to hear her auntie say so.

“Niece, I do not know why I took so long to leave my rooms. So silly! And with Miss Martin away these past few days, I realize I do not need her either. I hereby…declare my independence!”

With that, Miss Eugenia righted herself to a seated position. She pointed to her cane which had fallen to the floor, and Phee retrieved it. This action brought a further revelation to the older lady.

“Well, I suppose I do need some help from time to time. If not Miss Martin, then you, Ophelia. But that is not the goal.”

“Goal, Auntie?”

“Plan. I have been working out a plan in my head. It is high time you associated with friends and acquaintances closer to your age.”

Phee gestured to Miss Eugenia to take a seat in the wing chair, but her auntie waved her off.

“I need to walk, dearest. Even if it is only in our home at first, a few steps at a time.”

Miss Eugenia ambled slowly toward the door but stopped. Phee sprang up to assist her auntie whom she could see was weary.

“Auntie, as you said, a few steps at a time. Please sit.”

Phee indicated the wing chair, and the older woman did not disagree. Phee brought the straight chair to within a few feet of the wing chair, then plunked herself upon it.

“Now, Auntie, what is this plan you spoke of?”

But Miss Eugenia picked up the journal and opened to the bookmark.

“I believe you must be at about the point where the chief and the judge had a tussle, correct?”

“Yes, Auntie. And Miss Jones—Charlotte—has decided to escort the Judge outside to calm him down.” Phee leaned over and touched her auntie’s hand. “This is getting exciting! A fight! And Charlotte intervening with the judge. Oh, thank you for re-opening the book!”

Ophelia spoke gently, with a tone of hope.

“Shall I read aloud for you?”

Miss Eugenia nodded and set her cane aside. She drew a crocheted afghan over her lap and closed her eyes. She hoped her grandniece did not see the concern upon her face, as she knew that difficult, emotional passages were approaching.

Phee began.

Judge Black and I strolled outside, but not too far from the mansion. Tiny bugs which jump up and bite your ankles are frequently in the taller grasses, so we stayed to the ruts of dirt surrounding the dwelling.

“Tell me, sir, were you able to conduct your business in Mobile?” I could not think of what else to say.

“No,” he replied. He was silent a moment and then, perhaps realizing he was not polite enough, he added, “I received Mr. McQueen’s note to hasten here, and so I did.”

We walked further before he broke the silence.

“Remind me, if you would, how you and my daughter became acquainted.”

“Mrs. McQueen was near my home one day, and I believe she wished to meet more ladies proximate to her age.”

We sauntered back toward the house. I tried slowing the pace to allow the judge to recover his better humor.

“It is fortunate she not only found a lady of the characteristics she sought, but one who I understand is literate,” he stated, glancing at me sideways.

I was grateful it was too dark for him to see I was blushing. Such an admission means I was at some point discussed. Perhaps it was a letter from daughter to father. This thought relieved me, for I did not wish to be otherwise the subject of conversation.

Mr. Black very nearly was dragging me in the direction of the front door when it opened.

Chief Half-Moon appeared, carrying his wife in his arms.

The lifeless figure was wrapped in a quilt, her face not visible. Judge Black and I both gasped and hurried up to the veranda.

“Happy you had a stroll,” Zora said as she pulled the quilt aside.

We were thrilled beyond measure! I am certain the judge thought the same as me, that she was gone.

The chief sat with his wife upon his lap. Too weak to put her arms around his neck, she lay her head upon her husband’s chest.

The judge approached his daughter and kissed her lightly on the cheek. I hung back, not being a part of this family gathering, such as it was.

The two men were cordial to each other. Both were being respectful of Zora and reined in their feelings.

Judge Black turned to me and indicated another chair on the veranda. “Please have a seat, Miss Jones.”

The chief discreetly spoke to the servant. Soon thereafter, Zora had water to drink. More cups quickly appeared for each of us. The refreshment was welcome on a warm evening.

“Zora, please do not tax yourself,” Judge Black implored, more of his son-in-law than of his daughter. “It is a miracle you are awake, much less out here away from your bed.”

“Yes,” she replied. “A miracle.”

“She awoke and announced she wanted to see the stars,” added the chief. “I implored her to rest, but the healer told her the stars would send her optimal health. He claimed she should continue to improve. He recommends we repeat the healing ceremony each evening until she can stand on her own and walk a few steps.”

The judge cleared his throat to speak but thought better of speaking.

We all gazed at the heavens. One star was brighter than the others. Zora noticed it, and she spoke softly, “Mother sees us.”

She addressed her father. “I dreamed of Mother. She said, ‘Not now.’ That is when I realized I shall soon feel better.”

He regarded his daughter. And wept what I believed were tears of joy and relief.

Judge Black regained his composure. For the second time, I availed my handkerchief to wipe something from his face. I took care to be discreet, as I was uncertain that he wished the chief or Zora to witness his tears. I was doubtful, as he shed them so silently and briefly.

The corners of his mouth upturned. I understood this to be a grateful smile. With a slight squint and softening of his eyes, I could tell he was saying “Thank you.”

“Zora, it warms my heart to see you thus,” he said as he gazed at her.

Phee sensed her auntie was growing melancholic; she heard uneven breathing and perhaps a sniffle.

“This is a good place to stop, Auntie. I wonder—are you up to having lunch in the dining chamber? I expect that Mrs. Childers would welcome placing the food in the dumbwaiter and then having to walk only a few steps to serve it rather than taking separate trays to each of us.”

The older woman reached out to receive her cane and, placing her other hand upon her grandniece’s arm, slowly strolled toward the dining chamber.