I tried writing a story called Sleepsong about 8 years ago. I don't expect to ever finish it. This bit I wrote in 2018.
Selene
My mother would sometimes come back from her morning walk with three flowers. One for her, one for me, and one for the fairies.
Her long silky black hair would be down around her shoulders, and she would put one of the flowers above her ear. She would make me sit by the warm hearth as she twisted my frizzy hair into a braid that I could never recreate. Then she’d tuck the second flower in the middle of the braid. And finally, she would place the last flower on the hearth next to the seashells, crystals, and slice of bread.
“When you harvest anything, you must always leave some for others. And always, always, take one as an offering for the fairy folk.” She would remind me every time.
It was one of my favorite memories of her.
I still didn’t know how to braid my hair, so I often tied it back with a ribbon. When I wasn’t doing errands and chores, I would let my hair down, despite it being so unruly unlike hers. I was only gifted the color of her hair, not the texture.
There were two baskets of flowers by my feet. I had gathered different flowers from the meadow for a variety of uses.
Mrs. Agnes required a bundle of fresh chamomile to make tea. She also asked me to pick dandelion because we needed to start the next batch of wine. I also found colorful flowers and several plants for Nalani to use as dyestuffs.
As for me, I was content with keeping a couple of the pansies. My mother’s favorite flower. I slipped a purple pansy through my hair above my right ear, just like my mother would do.
“What are you doing? Honestly!” Nalani shouted in exasperation, breaking me away from my thoughts. She stood in front of me with her hands on her hips.
“Putting a single flower over your right ear means you’re seeking a relationship. Is that what you’re trying to advertise to everyone? It’s not exactly an appropriate time considering what happened not long ago.”
She fell down on her knees, dove into the basket of wildflowers next to me, and took out more purple pansies.
I felt my heart sink for a moment and forced myself to keep up a smile. I didn’t think it was necessary to remind me that my parents died. I’m trying to not let my mourning prevent me from being useful to her family since they’ve taken me in.
“What the hell?” I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing in her face as she placed the extra flowers into the same place in my hair. “Who came up with that?”
“It’s a tradition here,” Her eyes lowered and her cheeks reddened. “My friend told me her family and others have been doing it for generations.”
I don’t think I can keep up with all these customs. Where I came from, we didn’t do anything like that. Everything is so different here, but I can’t go back home yet. I have nothing waiting for me there. It would be a reminder of what I once had and will never get back.
“Well,” I touched the stems of the flowers in my basket and started reorganizing the flowers by color. “How am I supposed to know that?”
“It’s your responsibility to learn the way of the people of this town. Go out and actually talk to the people. Get to know them, so you don’t completely offend them with your ignorance.” She rolled her eyes and stuffed her hand into her apron pockets.
I took out the chamomile flowers and stacked the stems together as she took out a piece of twine and wrapped the bundle.
Nalani was only 11 years old, yet she desperately tried to act like she was around my age. She was torn between wanting to befriend me and wanting to make me feel like an idiot.
“So, what does it mean if I put a flower over my left ear?” I asked jokingly.
“I don’t have time for this.” She stood up with her hand on the handle of the basket. “I’ll take this now if you don’t mind.”
Nalani turned, holding the basket of flowers, and walked away from me, leaving the basket of dandelion flowers behind.
“Okay,” I said mostly to myself as I stood up. “I’ll just bring these to Mrs. Agnes now. She must be waiting for me.”
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