Yesterday Morning

• Rosemarie Moore, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2014

The sun shone in beams through the clouds, falling through the tree, oozing like honey from leaf to branch to trunk to earth, filling the earth with delirious warmth.

She had just placed her aunt’s ancient hat box by the white picket fence when a mahogany carriage arrived. Two horses; one grey, speckled and one glistened maroon. Aunt Shirley shuffled out in her good church clothes, eyes squinted and eyebrows frowning, “Why on earth would we ever need a carriage to go to a church that is not two minutes away, girl?”

Mary-Anne heaved a sigh. She hadn’t told her Aunt about the trip. She was still asleep when the express post came early that morning. “We are going to a different church today. Up in the mountains. And we are visiting Lucy’s husband whilst we’re there.”

“We will be visiting Robert, but not Lucy?” Aunt Shirley queried. Something swelled within Mary’s throat like a balloon in a pipe. So often her Aunt forgot Lucy’s disappearance seven years ago, and she abhorred having to relive the story. Instead, she led her Aunt into the carriage.

It took little time for the driver to pack their things into the carriage, with Mary-Anne’s assistance. The rhythmic clopping ushered her Aunt into a deep sleep. She was out cold by the time they reached the foot of the mountain. Mary- Anne wondered at the way shadows created such cold in the midst of a warm morning, how it focused the stony darkness on the base of the hill, where a mahogany carriage was destined to appear. Her day quickly became cool and damp. Fat trees, red and green, remoulded into greener boulders. Liquid sunlight evaporated into an impenetrable mist.

Mary-Anne hated toying with her Aunt’s weak mind. There was no way they could get to a service upon a mountain on time! But was it selfish to be so glad her Aunt continued to forget these little things? To be relieved that the bigger things could no longer squeeze into her splinter of a former mind? Of course it’s selfish. But now is the time for Mary-Anne’s redemption. She read the letter she had received from Robert again. He was so cruel in how he demanded she go to find her sister. No, not cruel - just. This is her chance to stitch what she had torn. To find the sister she had lost. At least he offered to take care of Shirley while she was gone.

Glow shimmered into reality up ahead. A cobblestone fence held its own amidst the swamping snow. Snow? Reality shifted into recognition. Lucy’s mansion, where Robert still lives. The air was cold and fierce with wind and snow. But the mansion glowed with warmth, like sunlight oozing through trees like honey. Mary-Anne woke her Aunt, once again relieved she had forgotten the church service. A lonesome bell declared to Mary-Anne that it was six in the evening- “Right on time. But please, Mary, take care.”