Page 16 of Circle of Days
Yes, that was where the kind Sun God lived.
The kind Sun God spoke to brave Resk, and asked him why he had come to the edge of the world. Brave Resk explained that the people were blind all the dark day long, and asked the kind Sun God to come above the earth and shine.
The kind Sun God said: “But the pale Moon Goddess is my sister. I don’t want to outshine her.”
“Then just come in the day, and light up our darkness,” said brave Resk. “Then we can hunt and gather fruits while you are with us, and sleep when you disappear.”
The kind Sun God agreed to that.
Brave Resk said: “You will come every day, though, won’t you?”
“I expect so,” said the kind Sun God.
And the people had to be satisfied with that.
Until she heard this story, Joia had wondered why the moon waxed and waned, and why the sun vanished at night and came back in the morning. And she was fascinated by the idea of the edge of the world. The world had to have an edge, she supposed.
Darkness had fallen during the recitation. Now the children went to sleep. So did some of the adults, but not all. It was time for the revel.
Everybody knew that a baby should ideally be raised by the mother and father, and parental couples normally avoided romantic entanglements with others. But inbreeding was dangerous in humans just as it was in herds. Even the farmers, who normally made women subservient, understood the benefit of new blood. So on the night of Midsummer Day many couples would separate, just for a few hours. It was especially good to make a baby with someone from far away. When that happened, both local couples and visiting couples would raise the child just the same as their other offspring.
The revel was a major attraction.
It got started quickly. Joia guessed that some people had arranged in advance who they would go with, and now they paired up immediately and eagerly headed out of the village together. Others strolled around, waiting to catch someone’s eye. Older people did not look at Joia and her friends: old-young sex was taboo.
Joia was with her cousin Vee and her friend Roni, who were excited. They talked about which boys they liked, and laughed about the unattractive ones. They agreed that they did not want to make babies, and they discussed what caresses they might permit instead.
Joia thought that Roni could probably attract any of the boys. She was the beautiful one of the three, with smooth brown skin and big eyes. Vee might be a bit intimidating: there was a defiant look about the way she stood and the way she walked, as if she was always ready for a quarrel. That could put boys off.
Joia herself was not excited. She supposed she would probably kiss some boy, but she could not work up any enthusiasm for the prospect. She was different from other girls in that way.
She was fascinated by the sun, the moon, and the stars, and the different ways they moved in the sky. She thought a lot about the spirits that lived in the rivers and the rocks and the wild creatures, spirits who could be kindly or mischievous or downright mean. She liked numbers. She remembered her mother once saying: “Your first word was ‘Mamma,’ but your second was ‘two.’”
At times Joia thought there must be something wrong with her.
The three girls walked around the outskirts of the village in the warm evening air, careful not to tread on people who were already enjoying the freedom of the special night in pairs, threes, and fours, some all-male or all-female, some mixed. It was too dark to see exactly what people were doing, but they made passionate noises, sighs and groans and sudden exclamations.
Joia looked out for her sister, Neen. She was eager to know whether Neen would be with Enwood, now that Seft had gone. But she did not see either Neen or Enwood.
Vee and Roni were eager and at the same time apprehensive, and Joia noticed that their voices rose in pitch. Before long they ran into a group of boys including Vee’s brother, Cass, who was sixteen midsummers old. They talked for a minute, joshing, then the most good-looking of the boys, Cass’s friend Robbo, put his arm around Roni.
Just like that, Joia thought.
Robbo’s move was the cue for Moke, a rather plain boy, to rush to Vee. Joia expected her to reject him. Vee had talked a lot about how she would kiss only really attractive boys. However, she now seemed to forget all that, and she kissed Moke without being asked.
Only Joia was left.
There was a moment of uncertainty, then Cass smiled at her. She liked him. He was friendly and intelligent. Now he said: “I guess you liked the poem about the Moon Goddess and the Sun God.” He knew what interested her.
Despite that, she had no inclination to kiss him. But she thought she ought to do it.
He seemed hesitant too, and she thought: Let’s get this over with. She put her hand on his shoulder, tilted her face up, and kissed him.
She did not know what to do next and, it seemed, nor did he. They stayed like that, mouth on mouth, for several moments. His lips did not excite her. Nothing happened. She neither liked it nor hated it. It seemed pointless, meaningless. She broke away.
He sensed that. “It didn’t make you feel good, did it?” he said. His tone was good-natured: he was not upset.
“No, it didn’t,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
