The Harvest

The girls walk in pairs. Some softly, some in step and the youngest with a spring. Their handmade harvest gowns float above their ankles. Patchwork skirts sewn in strips from each of their childhood dresses. A dusk light filters through them in faint shades of gold and crimson.

Laughter gurgles in the night. Twigs break underfoot. The air smells of smoke, orange and cinnamon and tastes of burnt sugar. They are still so young. Lanterns have been strung from trees. Pumpkins and swollen gourds left beside them. Every family has made an effort.

Valeria is the youngest of her sisters. She trails a half-broken stick behind her, disturbing the earth and lifting the rotting leaves.

Her part tonight will be small.

A few rows in front of her walks Elsbet. She holds her friend's hand tightly and every few steps they glance at each other and giggle. Valeria can see that her sister's cheeks are still red and bites her lip. She hadn't meant to cause a row.

Somewhere, close to the front of the procession of candidates, is their sister, Thena. She has all the poise and grace in their family. Valeria smiles tightly. At least she can't be accused of stealing that.

A chime sounds in the night. The bell strikes three times before the first maiden calls out. All at once every mouth is full; every girl speaking quickly. Valeria even hears her own voice saying, "It is time!"

Silence washes over the line like a wave. It breaks on Valeria and falls heavily. She feels every hope, wish and prayer that either of her Grandmother's has ever made in that weight. Elsbet catches her eye and shakes her head slightly. Valeria tilts up her chin and straightens her back.

Even the forest holds its breath as the air stills. Valeria is wondering how long she can hold her breath for and panics for a moment as a tickle starts in her chest. Don't Cough.

Finally, the girls are moving again, they filter into the prism shaped church, their figures flickering past the shafts of moonlight between the pillars. Valeria follows as quickly as she can, shuffling her feet and remembering - just in time - to drop the dirty stick.

She takes her place at the tail end of the spiral. Her feet now bare, slippers left at the door. Not just the youngest of her sisters, but the youngest girl in the village too. She is close enough to the heavy door, that a light breeze catches her skirts. All she can see is neatly turned heads and shawl draped shoulders. Some are shaking, others leaning against each other. When her Grandfather looks back at her, his eyes are full.

The bell chimes again. Three clear notes that echo around the chamber. The building is so vast, that Valeria cannot see the roof.

A priest steps forward in thick robes. He raises both palms as he looks up towards the swollen full moon. Cool water whispers as it trickles over their feet and starts to flow out through the shallow grooves in the floor. Valeria wishes she were at the centre of the spiral, rather that at the end. She wonders what the virgin water looks like.

It is nearly time now. The congregation has started to sing. Valeria closes her eyes and breathes in the music. She feels alive in a way that she doesn't remember feeling before.

A shadow passes by her. A floral note and a taste of iron. The candles flicker in the marigold crown. Hot wax drips on to the leaves and cushion. It reminds Valeria of honey.

Thena is one of five candidates who could be crowned this year. One of five who faces The Harvest. No one knows what greatness awaits the Harvest Girls after they have been chosen, but the family of the girl who wears the marigolds at the end of Harvest Night is blessed by the village for the rest of their lives.

Valeria feels a lot at once. Fear, jealousy, excitement. She thinks of her last words to Thena and swallows nervously. I do love you really Sister, she whispers.

The song is finishing now. A choir joins in and then, at last, the low chanting tones of the priest. He is swinging incense and quoting scripture. His eyes are closed. His long beard now damp. The scholars kneel before him, presenting the golden wreath. Valeria panics, realising that she cannot see the centre of the spiral; Will not see who is chosen.

Quickly, she leaves her place and steps on to the plinth of one of the many robed statues who line the walls.

It is in darkness that she sees the priest lift the Harvest Crown and place it on the intricate plaits that top her eldest sister's tight curls. She sees Thena smile. Sees her straight white teeth smile through shaking fingers. The priest reaches up and snuffs out the creamy white candle wicks. He takes his knife and cuts gently into Thena's left forefinger. The blood drips into the fountain source and Valeria watches as the anaemic, pink water spreads to the outer edge and seeps into the drain.

Her family seem so happy. The scholars dip their hands into the basins and throw marigold petals into the air like confetti. They too follow the grooves of the spiral fountain into the drain.

The whole village is cheering. She herself knows that she will never be hungry again. Her days of borrowed shoes, shared meals and hand-me-down clothes are over, but all that Valeria can think as Thena is slowly led away is, Will I ever see you again?

The Harvest Girl has been crowned.