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“Well,” she said, suddenly brisk. “I suppose we might as well get all this food over to the shelter — if you’re done here, Selena.”
I was. Or at least, I’d finished this part of the ceremony. I still planned to hold my vigil here all night, even if that vigil would turn out to be a solitary one. Tucked away into a pocket of my skirt was another petition, a very private one. I would throw it onto the fire when I was alone.
However, I didn’t say anything about that. No, I only helped Josie and Hazel and Chuck carry the trays of fruit and Litha cakes to Josie’s and Hazel’s cars. Once that was done, I said, “I’m going to stay here, if it’s okay.”
Chuck raised an eyebrow. “I know earlier you said you were going to keep a vigil by the bonfire all night, but….”
But that had been back when I thought I’d be surrounded by dozens of solstice observers. I had to admit that the thought of staying in the clearing all night felt a bit scary. After all, only a few months earlier, Calvin Standingbear had warned me that the areas around town were populated by snakes and coyotes and bobcats and maybe even bears.
Of course, he’d been talking about the land down by the San Ramon River on the reservation, and not Chuck Langdon’s ranch. It had to be a bit safer here, didn’t it? The entire property was surrounded by a combination of barbed-wire and split-rail fences, although I had a feeling all that fence had been constructed to keep the cows in and not necessarily to keep wildlife out.
“It should be safe enough, shouldn’t it?” I asked.
His shoulders lifted ever so slightly. “I suppose so. I mean, I can’t guarantee that there won’t be some coyotes wandering around the perimeter of the property, but they should stay well clear of the fire. As long as you keep it going, you should be all right.” A pause, and then he added, “I can loan you one of my rifles, just in case.”
Giving me a gun would probably be more hazardous than leaving me to brave a pack of coyotes on my own. “I don’t know how to shoot,” I said. “City girl, remember?”
That comment earned me a grin. “It was just a thought.”
“I can come back and stay with you,” Hazel offered, but I shook my head.
“No, I don’t expect you to do that. I’ll be fine.”
She looked troubled — and Josie didn’t seem too thrilled by my decision to camp out in the clearing all night, either — but they didn’t offer any further protests, only headed off to their cars so they could get the food safely to the Third Street Shelter. I was happy to see Chuck climb into the passenger seat of Hazel’s Volvo, and hoped that, even though this evening had turned out to be a complete bust for me, maybe at least those two would get the happy ending they deserved.
Despite the crackling of the fire, the clearing felt preternaturally quiet when I returned alone. We’d left out the pitchers of water and cups on the beverage table, so I went ahead and poured myself some and then took a seat in one of the empty chairs.
Was I crazy for doing this? It wasn’t as though I was a squire, performing a vigil so I could be knighted the next day and given my sword and shield. At the same time, though, I thought it might be necessary, if only to quiet my mind and reflect on what was truly important.
Lilith Black might have tried to hurt me, but she’d only succeeding in showing me that I had some true friends in Globe. That was more than worth all the trouble she’d put me through.
From somewhere off in the distance came the hollow, haunting cry of an owl. I couldn’t see the bird, but I imagined it in my mind’s eye anyway, the wide, pale wings, the round golden eyes. Had it caught its prey, or would it keep hunting through the night?
Oddly, the realization that an owl was out there somewhere in the dark made me feel a little less lonely. And really, I knew I wasn’t all that alone; sooner or later, Chuck would come home and go to sleep in the big ranch house. Maybe he would dream of Hazel.
That notion made me think of my own dream. I reached into my skirt pocket and pulled out the little scrap of paper I’d placed there earlier. Just five words, written in black ink on the brown parchment I used specifically for petitions and spells.
I want someone to love.
Maybe that person wasn’t Calvin Standingbear. I had to accept that reality. But I also had to accept that, even though I tried to act as if I didn’t care whether or not I had someone to share my world, I didn’t want to go through this life alone.
My eyelids drooped, and I blinked. It had been a long, long day. Would I be able to stay awake all night so I could place my petition in the smoldering coals of the bonfire?
At the rate I was going, probably not.
Honestly, I should probably just get up from this chair, walk over to my car, and drive home so I could sleep in a proper bed. No one would judge me for bailing out.
But I’d judge myself.
Even so, I thought it was probably a good idea to put the petition in the fire now. It would still have its own power, one guided by the strength of this midsummer night.
I got up from the chair and dropped the little piece of paper into the bonfire. At once, the flames caught hold of the parchment, burning it into ashes even as I watched.
I chose to take that as a good sign.
The task done, I returned to my chair. It was hard and uncomfortable, one of those plastic and metal folding jobs, but it was still probably better than trying to lie on the dead leaves underfoot. A light breeze touched my cheek, and I drank some more water. Right then, I felt as though I’d been caught in an odd, liminal state, sleepy and yet oddly alert, my senses catching everything — the rustle of the leaves overhead, the hot, acrid scent of the bonfire, the cool night wind against my skin, even the faint glow of the waxing moon as it slipped behind the hills to the west.
I was safe here. This place, this little hollow, would protect me.
