Catching Fireflies on Mid-Summer's Eve
--Mary Stacy
Mid-Summer
Could there ever be a more perfect summer night? Just enough of a breeze to stir the leaves of the great ancient oak that stood guard for several hundred years over the old farmhouse porch, the tree was filled with the flickering light of hundreds of fireflies. Their soft yellow-green glow laced the branches, a magical event in the making that would be over far too quickly.
In the distance, she could hear the murmur of voices in the library, doubtless in a heated discussion of some great matter of interplanetary politics from the looks of the half dozen limos that lined the drive. Having a grandmother who had been Secretary of State for the 2 previous administrations, could be interesting at times, but when all you wanted was a peaceful evening at home with a book, it could turn into a burden. If she tried, she could sneak in through the kitchen and then up the backstairs to her room. It wouldn't matter that she wasn't properly dressed, or that her hair was a tangled mess of curls from being out riding most of the day. It was such a beautiful night though, the fireflys, the smell of honeysuckle from a nearby vine, the chorus of crickets—she wished she could bottle it all up and save it forever. At 19, she had her whole life ahead of her, and somehow tonight it seemed it was just about to begin.
" A perfect night, " she sighed to herself, taking in a deep breathe of its sweetness.
" Indeed. "
The voice that answered her was like a whisper on the wind. Were it not for the gentle movement of the floor boards underneath her, she might have thought it was her imagination.
" The insects, I have never seen this before in my years on your world. They glow. "
She wanted to turn around and see the source of this wonderful voice, but that was to chance dissapointment. Too many of those melodious voices that would emanate from her grandmother Louisa's library over the years, well, they usually seemed to belong to beings that were not always the most pleasant to look at. Maybe for this one, she would keep the fantasy of a Prince Charming in the shadows.
" Is there a reason? "
A wash of velvet through the air, she smiled at her vision, before she answered.
" We only have this treat for a very few weeks in the summer, while they're looking for mates. My mother used to say, " she paused, a long forgotten memory of the two of them in the same yard, a dozen summers past, chasing the lights through the air, " My mother used to say that love is like these fireflies, it lights the sky for a short time and then fades away. If you are lucky enough to find someone in the short time we have, its like catching a special mid-summer eve firefly. The spell of that one moment is held in your hands for as long as you believe in its magic. "
He didn't answer but moved closer to the porch rail, just on the other side of the post. A elegant sleeve reached, and he held his left hand, large yet finely boned. 4 fingers and an opposing thumb. This was a good sign, she smiled inwardly. She watched as two of the insects settled on the tips of his fingers. Reaching down he held them out for her to take. Steeling herself for disspoinment, she glanced up at him. In the moonlight she could see the curve of a classic roman nose, the angle of a high cheekbone, the glint of white behind a full mouth as he opened it to speak.
" They do not seem to object too much to being 'caught', do they? "
She didn't want to break this moment, it was like moving within a dream. Any second now…
" We've been looking all over for you! " the creak of the screen door coincided with her grandmother's laugh, " Naadiir needs some support. Ak-it-tom has not given her a chance to get a word in, and we all know you are the only one capable of getting it to quiet down. "
Suddenly her grandmother saw her sitting on the step, the fireflies still perched on her hand, " Oh Amanda, you know how those bugs smell, come in and wash your hands then stop in and give our guests a proper hello. "
Amanda stood and thrust her hand into the breeze, the spell broken as the insects flew away. She turned toward the door just in time to catch the elegant point of an ear and swept of a brow in the hall light. He turned, as if he felt her eyes upon him, and gave a slight nod of his head. Smiling, Amanda walked to the door, hearing her grandmother's voice and it filled the hall.
" Naadiir, look who I found on my porch talking to my grandaughter when he should have been in here helping us. "
The soft, familiar sound of Naadiir's hiss, followed, " Sarek… "
" Sarek," Amanda whispered to herself, holding the name like a firefly caught on mid-summer's eve.
