You're My Infinity

“Annah! You’ll ruin your costume!” Rushing to my seven-year-old sister’s side, I snatch the green paint from her tiny fingers. She’s dressed as a flower Pharisee, by her own request, but after turning my back for two seconds, she’s managed to find green skin paint and smear it on both arms. Today is the Midsummer’s Eve festival after all.

Per tradition, the villagers will dress as Pharisees, to trick the small creatures into thinking we are one of them. Everyone dresses up, we dance and sing, but the only flaw is the green skin (at least in my opinion). I don’t know why, but to me it is wrong, and ever since getting lost in the woods when I was five, I haven’t allowed Mama to color me green. This year, since I am sixteen, I am in charge of our costumes, but it seems Annah doesn’t quite agree with my perception of the Pharisees.

As she reaches for the paint, I have to hold it above my head so she can’t reach. “But everyone else is green!” she protests, looking as if she might attack me should I fail to give her the paint.

“I haven’t painted myself green in eleven years,” I argue coolly. She stares at me with ice in her eyes.

“And everyone thinks you’re a witch!” There are tears in her eyes as she jumps, snatching back the paint from my stunned hands and runs. The sound of a door slamming follows, and I know she’s gone to one of her friend’s houses to finish preparing for the festival. Still, knowing this, I can’t bring myself to follow her. Her words were true enough after all…

Sighing softly, I finally move, going into the room I share with Annah to get myself ready. Already I am wearing most of my outfit. My top mimics leaves; allowing one shoulder bare as well as my stomach. Hanging on my hips is a gently swishing skirt, though both legs and feet are devoid of decoration. I’ve fashioned a see-through shawl of sorts for my shoulders as well, although I contemplate it for a scarf. At the moment I’m working on my chestnut hair, braiding it intricately in some places while leaving it down in others, some loose strands curling around my face.

Finally, I’m done, and I sigh softly as I lean back in a chair, closing my eyes. Unlike most people, my outfit doesn’t have sparkles, vibrant colors, make-up, shoes, or green skin. Once a year, I feel like nature itself. More oft than not, no one will dance with me and whispers follow, but thus far, accompanied by my mother and sister, I’ve had fun enough. Midsummer’s Eve is a time of joy after all, and I’ll enjoy that precious time.

Then I feel something being sprinkled on me, and as my nose wrinkles, I feel a sneeze following. Opening my eyes, I see Mama smiling gently as she lets golden glitter fall on my skin. “One of these days, you may just trick them yet, Emilee,” she says, wiping a hand over her apron as she finishes. I stand, finding we’re of equal height even with my bare feet. “Look at you, all grown. This’ll be the year, I guarantee, that you bring home a young man.”

Despite myself, I feel heat creeping up my neck. “Not likely. We both know how the villagers see me.” I pause with a small smile. “I still can’t figure out what gave me the idea that the Pharisees aren’t green and should look like this.” I motion to myself and shake my head, then give her a small grin. “Too late to back out now. Maybe if they come to curse us, I’ll look enough like them to be believable.”

Her voice is harsh as she snaps at me. “Don’t speak of such things, Emilee Rosewood!” Thinking we were past the hush words and punishments, I can only imagine my face. Seeing this softens her as well, it seems. “Emmie, I’m so sorry. You know I just worry for you and Annah. I haven’t been the same since your father-” Here her voice hitches, and she doesn’t need to go further because I know what she’s talking about.

I go to her, pulling her into my arms. It’s a motherly gesture, but she needs it. Even though Annah may not remember it, I do, and I share Mama’s pain. Da used to hunt in the forest. One day he never came back and though we searched, all we could find of him was his equipment. I know Mama blames the Pharisees, so she doesn’t tolerate talk of them often and jest even less. I’m faintly surprised we still celebrate Midsummer’s Eve, actually. I go with Annah with her permission, but since his disappearance, she won’t, and has withered. I worry for her.

After what seems like too short of time, Mama lets me go and we both take our space, standing awkward for a moment. Then she sighs softly. “Go to the festival and have some fun. I know your sister won’t have any problems, but you-” She wags her finger at me, causing a smile. “You need to have fun.” She lets me go then, but I don’t make it to the door before her voice follows me once again. “And get to work on those grandbabies I want!”

Blushing furiously, I quickly head out into the cool dusk air. Colorful lanterns are strewn around haphazardly and the giggles of little kids floats around the semi-darkness. Most children will be at the fair, and the adults will come later, after giving the children their unsupervised fun. I follow my own tradition though as I take up an empty jar that’s on the porch. I’ve decorated its top with holes and cleaned it, so it should be ready.

Moving with ease, I go around our house into the backyard where fireflies flicker across the expanse of the lush green grass and into the shadows of the trees. Smiling foolishly to myself, I move and chase the small bugs. Whenever I catch one, I’ll gently deposit it into my jar, and this continues until I feel I have plenty. Feeling refreshed by the act, I move over to the tree line that leads into the forest and set the jar down at the border, crouching there for a moment as I stare into the darkness. Then, bowing my head, I whisper a thanks to the Pharisees for this new year, for the life around our town, and I invite them to peacefully join the festivities, leaving the jar there as a guide.

With that done, I pick up my head and straighten my shoulders. Without so much as a second look back, I turn and make my way back to the street. Night has completely fallen now, and the warm winds signal for a good festival. Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I smile softly at the thought and head towards the market place where everyone has gathered.

Sure enough, I stick out like a sore thumb, and as crowds part for me, I stubbornly keep my chin held up as I make my way past. Then, I see what I’m searching for and duck into a hidden alleyway, moving through the shadows until I see the stairway. Scaling it with ease, I soon come to the top of the building where I can see all of the fun below from a peaceful place where the whispers won’t reach. With a content sigh, I perch myself on the ledge, leaning back against the cool wall as I watch the people below. ’Happy Midsummer’s Eve,’ I think.