Moya's Room: A Short Story

Moya's room sat at one end of the house, with a picture window that faced the front. Part of the room was a kind of turret -- a nearly full circle off the edge of the house made up entirely of windows and topped outside by a concave cone-shaped roof. Out the back window she could just see the corner of the carriage house where her grandmother lived -– a small, quaint house set atop a stone foundation with two immense barn doors where the horse carriages used to be kept. She could also see the smoke wafting from the barbecue that was just out of sight. Hanging in front of the side window was her parrot, Oliver. The front of the turret and the picture window offered a sweeping view of the oak, the winding, rocky driveway and the bottom …show more content…

Later that evening, after Fritz had gone -- leaving the house right in front of the Mahooneys and her parents -- after the barbecue finished and her parents disappeared into their bedroom, Moya peeked out the window and saw the light on in the carriage house. Sneaking through the shadows, down the stairs, down the hall, avoiding the steps and boards she knew creaked the loudest, through the kitchen and out the back door, she ran across the yard to see her grandmother. The finger the ring was on had begun to itch earlier and was red where she had scratched it. She tried to take it off for while, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. She ran up the short set of stairs and knocked on the carriage house door. Seconds later it swung open, apparently on its own, because her grandmother was sitting on the sofa sipping a cup of tea. "Nona?" Moya squeaked. "Come in, come in! So I take it all the busy-bodies are …show more content…

Her stomach lurched. She liked her Nona's place. All dark wood and stone of the carriage house -- like from another time. The lights were warm and dim, casting comforting shadows. The furniture was older, but still stuffed full and covered in fabric with rich, deep colors. There were lamps and paintings and knick-knacks around -- it was a comfortable place that hugged you as you walked in. "Come. Sit." Cornice tapped the space beside her and Moya joined her on the couch. "So, how have you been feeling?" "What?" "How have you been feeling?" "Fine, I guess." "Nothing strange or unusual going on?" "What do you -- " Moya stopped as she recalled the shadows she’d seen at school that afternoon and the strange whispering in her head. "Ah…so there have been a few things. Small stirrings?" Moya wrinkled her brow and pulled her arms inside her overalls as she always did when she was uncertain. "How did you know?" "I can hear you thinking, sweetheart. And that’s what I brought you here to explain." "You can hear me thinking? So what was I thinking?" Moya's lips pursed. She peeked into her grandmother’s cup to see if anything funny swam