Hello there,
Thank you so much for joining me for this continued reading of Moonlight at Mystar Wisp.
This is my unofficial fan-written sequel to celebrate 100 years since the publishing of the fabulous novel The Blue Castle.
Lucy Maud Montgomery published The Blue Castle in 1926,
Much later on in her writing career,
And here we are in 2020.
2026 and I'm very excited and delighted to be sharing this,
My attempt at a sequel to The Blue Castle.
If you've been listening along,
You'll know that we're already halfway through the book at this point.
So if you haven't heard the preceding chapters and you'd like to,
You can certainly look for the playlist for Moonlight at Mastawis and you'll find all of the pieces of the puzzle there in order.
And you can also look for my reading of The Blue Castle here,
And you'll also find the entire book to listen to.
But for now,
Let's just take a moment here to have a nice deep exhale.
Letting go of the day.
Letting go of whichever baggage we might be bringing along with us into this moment.
For right now,
There's nowhere else we have to go,
Nothing else we have to be doing.
So we can just relax,
Get ourselves comfortable,
And enjoy the next installment of Moonlight at Mystawis.
Chapter 15,
What matters?
The sun rose soft and gold over Mystawis,
Catching in the gauzy webs between pine branches and the glimmering crests of the lake.
Valancy stood at the edge of the dock with one hand on the rope,
Watching as Barney stepped into the boat.
A basket of wildflowers lay at her feet,
Gathered in silence that morning.
It had been three years.
Three years since sweet,
Delicate,
Sissy gay had slipped away at sunrise.
Her last breath barely stirring the still air of that quiet morning.
Balancy remembered the way her face had softened.
How her eyes had opened and looked to the sky.
Beyond.
Past the room.
Past Valancy.
And how sheet.
Smiled.
That smile had stayed with Valancy ever since.
She still thought often of her dear darling friend Sissy.
And wondered if,
In eternity,
She had indeed.
Being joyfully reunited with her beautiful baby boy.
Well,
Nancy certainly liked to think so.
Barney started the boat engine and Balancy climbed in beside him.
They didn't speak during the crossing.
There was just the hum of the motor,
The cries of gulls wheeling above,
And the splashing of water against the hull.
Roaring Abel was already there at the Deerwood Cemetery when they arrived,
Standing squarely in the shade of a maple near the gate,
A bunch of field daisies clutched in his great brown hand.
He was big-shouldered,
Sunburnt,
And still as solid as an old oak tree,
But his eyes softened when he saw them.
Without much talk,
They walked together to the grave,
Where the stone was simple and neat,
Edged with a fringe of wild violets.
They stood in silence for a time.
Abel set his daisies down,
Then cleared his throat in that loud,
Rasping way that could frighten strangers but never fooled Barney or Valancy.
He began to sing.
Some half-forgotten tune that rose and fell unevenly,
Ragged but strangely beautiful in the clear air.
Barney stood with his hands in his pockets,
Watching the sky.
Valancy linked her arm through Abel's when he faltered for breath.
Oh,
The summer days are long,
Love And the roads are made for two But the path you took was skyward And I'm still missing you when the song ended.
No one spoke.
The air was warm and full of the scent of grass.
Somewhere in the trees,
A robin called.
Valancy bent to brush a stray twig from the grass at the foot of the stone.
She was the gentlest person I've ever known,
She said quietly.
Even when she was in pain.
She thought more about other people's comfort than her own.
I miss her.
Barney's gaze stayed on the horizon.
She had a lovely laugh,
Like wind in the pines.
I remember that.
Abel gave a loud sniff,
Half a laugh and half a sob.
Aye,
She always took to folk who were a bit out of step with the rest.
That's why she thought so much of you two.
Lancey smiled.
We thought we might bring a few of Sissy's favourites.
Would you like to sit for a bit?
They walked a little way from the gravesite,
Down to a sunny spot on a slope,
Where the grass grew long and sweet-smelling.
Barney spread an old plaid blanket,
While Valancy unpacked the basket.
Flaky butter tarts,
Thick slices of fresh bread,
Sharp cheddar,
And a jar of raspberry jam that smelled like summer bottled.
Abel produced a flask from his pocket,
Grinning sheepishly.
For medicinal purposes,
He explained.
They ate slowly,
Talking in the unhurried way people do when they are remembering rather than passing the time.
Abel told stories from when Sissy was little.
How she had once insisted on keeping a baby squirrel in the house for a week.
And how she had been able to whistle whole tunes before she could read.
Valancy remembered the last afternoons she had spent reading Thistle Harvest aloud to Sissy.
The book left open between them whenever Sissy grew too tired to listen.
Barney remembered how Sissy always asked him what the lake looked like.
When he came to see her.
Even on the days she was too weak to go farther than the veranda.
He would describe the water and the islands to her.
And she would listen,
As though he had brought a little piece of mastawis in,
Just for her.
The air was soft and the sun warmed their shoulders.
When they had eaten their fill,
They lingered still on the blanket,
Letting the talk drift in and out like the breeze.
The cemetery's hush was a different kind of quiet than the island's.
Softer,
Somehow,
And steeped in the scent of mown grass.
Now and then the chime of the church clock in the village floated up on the warm air.
Abel lay back on one elbow,
Chewing the end of a blade of grass.
Sis woulda liked to see us here,
He said finally.
Not because she cared about graves,
Mind you.
She'd just be glad folk remembered her.
Without all the stiff trappings.
She never was much for any of that,
Barney agreed.
She'd have hated a long,
Formal eulogy.
I believe she would have liked this.
Why?
Abel agreed.
His eyes were far away.
Tracking some thought through the treetops.
I reckon she's with the little fella now.
Her baby boy.
She missed him.
Every day,
She was still here.
If there's any justice in the good place.
They're together again now,
And she's holding him again.
Just the way she wanted.
His voice thickened slightly,
But he didn't look away from the sky.
Valancy swallowed past the lump in her throat.
It was as if she could almost hear Sissy's gentle,
Melancholy voice again,
Speaking of her longing for her sweet baby boy.
The memory left Valancy aching.
Yet also somehow.
Grateful.
Abel took a long pull from his flask and set it down with a clatter.
He chewed the corner of a butter tart thoughtfully.
Speaking of children,
He began,
His voice a little slurred.
You two are taking your time,
Ain't ya?
Barney's eyes flicked towards Valancy,
And he felt her hand stiffen slightly on his arm.
Abel's gaze caught theirs and softened.
Don't mind me.
None of my business.
Just.
.
.
Kids,
They're the greatest blessing you can have in your life.
That's all I'm saying.
He leaned back,
Closing his eyes for a moment,
As if the summer sun alone could steady him.
Barney and Valancy exchanged a glance,
Both quiet.
Then Abel muttered something about daisies and how Sissy loved seeing them bloom.
They spoke then of.
.
.
The lake in early summer.
The berries that would be ready in a week or two.
The weather turning in their favour now,
After a long wet spring.
Nothing pressing.
Just.
.
.
The threads of ordinary life weaving themselves between moments of remembering.
At last,
Abel pushed himself to his feet with a grunt.
Better be getting along then.
Got a bit of business in Deerwood before the day's out.
Barney packed away the blanket and leftover bread.
Balanci tucked the jam into Abel's basket.
You take this.
We'll make more soon.
He didn't argue,
Only nodded and slung the basket over his arm.
They walked together down the shady lane that led away from the cemetery,
The dappled light flickering over their faces.
Barney's car was waiting at the side of the road,
Its dark green paint glinting in the sun.
Abel climbed into the front seat beside Barney,
Valanci in the back.
The drive towards Deerwood was unhurried,
The fields on either side shimmering with early summer heat.
Olive had gone home the previous day,
Her promised two nights at Mestawis over.
But had arranged to meet them in Deerwood that afternoon.
At the edge of the village,
Barney eased the car to a stop where Olive was waiting,
As they had arranged.
She stood on the verge with her small bag,
Trim and straight-backed,
Her hat brim shading her eyes.
"'Afternoon,
Miss Stirling,
' Abel said gruffly as he swung open the door.
"'Mr Gay,
' she returned with a polite inclination of her head,
Her voice was even,
But Valancy noticed the way her hand tightened on the strap of her bag.
Lost my girl Sissy.
Three years ago today,
He said simply,
Makes you think about what matters.
Olive's eyes flickered and for a heartbeat the composure shifted.
Yes,
I'm.
.
.
So sorry,
She murmured,
The words sounding as if they had come from a well-worn shelf.
He paused to collect his thoughts with great care.
A process that seemed to require rather more concentration than usual after the afternoon's generous toasts to Sissy's memory.
Then he gave a small nod,
His voice roughened but steady,
Life's short,
Miss Olive.
We don't get enough of it to waste on things that don't matter.
He peered at Olive with sudden curiosity.
How old are you now,
Miss Olive?
She blinked.
30.
Abel scratched thoughtfully at his tremendous beard.
Hi.
He gave a low whistle.
Wow.
He looked sidelong at Barney.
Prettiest old maid I reckon I've ever clapped eyes on.
Barney coughed suspiciously into his fist.
Valancy bit the inside of her cheek.
Olive's eyes widened in mortification.
Abel waved a huge hand.
Nothing wrong.
With being an old maid.
If that's how it works out,
Better than marrying the wrong fool.
Seen plenty do that.
Olive coloured from the collar of her coat to the brim of her hat.
Thank you,
I think,
Her hand tightened on the folds of her skirt.
She glanced towards the road as though to hasten the moment along.
Abel hefted his basket and gave Barney a nod.
You two take care of each other.
Take care of her too.
" He nodded towards Olive.
Thanks for being with me today.
To remember sis.
Then he set off along the road,
His stride long and unhurried.
Olive exhaled hard.
And slid awkwardly into the back seat beside Valanci.
Barney eased the car into motion.
And they turned onto the Lake Road.
For a little while.
No one spoke.
I hope Mr Gay isn't always quite so forthright,
" Olive said at last.
Valancy smiled.
He usually is.
I rather gathered that.
Olive paused.
Notice what else he said.
About making the most of the time we've got.
Felt.
As though he was aiming that just at me somehow.
Valancy smiled slightly.
That's just Abel.
He says what's in his head.
Olive looked out at the trees slipping past the window.
I suppose.
As they wound on along the lake road,
Barney slowed a little near a bend where the trees thinned.
Set back from the road,
And half hidden in the shade of elder bushes,
Stood a small,
Weathered cottage.
Its shingles were uneven,
The garden gone to seed,
But it still stood with a valiant air of endurance.
Barney's gaze flicked towards the roof,
Noting the patch he'd finished last week.
Holding up,
He murmured to himself before pressing the accelerator again.
Olive followed his glance.
Someone's been doing that place up,
She remarked.
Looks like it might almost be livable.
Looks that way,
Barney said,
Mildly,
Keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
Valancy glanced from one to the other,
But no one offered more.
The car hummed on towards the dock,
The cottage soon hidden behind the curve of the road and a stand of birches.
The lake lay ahead,
Glittering under the late afternoon sun,
Waiting to take them home.
They drove on in a companionable silence,
The hum of the tyres on the gravel and the occasional call of a loon across the water,
Filling the spaces between thoughts.
Valancy broke the quiet first,
Her voice soft.
It felt right being there today,
Just the three of us,
Remembering Sissy the way she was.
Olive nodded slowly,
Glancing towards the lake's glimmering surface.
I.
.
.
I didn't know them well.
Mr Gay and Ceci.
But he He makes you think,
Doesn't he?
Her voice was quieter now,
Reflective rather than uneasy.
The lake opened wider now,
A sheet of blue and gold unfurling alongside them.
Sunlight poured between the tall pines,
Flashing across the windshield.
Far out,
The cluster of tiny islets,
Known as the Fortune Isles,
Glimmered like scattered jewels.
Beyond them,
Faint music drifted from somewhere up the shore,
An unseen boat or a summerhouse veranda.
Valancy turned slightly in her seat to take it in.
I love it best at this time of day she murmured when the water looks like it's holding the light just for you Barney glanced gently at her.
I know.
No one spoke again until the dock came into view.
Weathered planks stretched out into the shining water,
Their little boat tugging at the rope in the gentle swell.
The car rolled to a stop,
The engine ticking into silence.
For a moment,
They all simply sat,
Breathing in the resinous scent of pine and the faint cool tang of the lake.
Valancy was first to step out.
Olive followed more slowly,
Pausing to look around.
The air was quieter here,
The noise of the road already a distant thing,
Making way for the faint chuckle of water under the dock.
They climbed down into the little disappearing propeller boat,
Its varnished wooden seats warm from the afternoon sun.
Barney settled at the tiller and gave the crank a brisk turn.
The motor caught with its low,
Steady putter.
He eased them away from the dock.
The propeller safely tucked just below the hull,
Ready to lift clear if they struck a hidden rock or log.
The bow nosed into the open water,
Leaving a clean,
V-shaped wake behind.
The lake caught the light in restless flashes,
Silver here,
Gold there,
While the islands slid past in quiet procession,
Each one crowned with dark green furs and rimmed in the warm evening glow.
Mistawis lay ahead,
Its small dock a dark slash against the bright water.
Behind them,
The mainland grew smaller as the sun sank lower.
Olive sat quietly in the stern,
Watching the island draw nearer.
