In America, we just eat the candy.
“You get one lucky shot in your life and I got mine this morning. Good timing. We were testing the river water when the deer stepped over that”— Max pointed to the crest of the riverbank—“ and towards us.” How daintily the deer had minced through the rocks and brush, tilting his antlered head from side to side, brown eyes shining with innocent curiosity. It had stopped to watch what the two alien creatures were doing at the water’s edge. Max instinctively pulled out the 9mm and shot. The bullet hit the deer right in the neck. The deer crumpled to the earth and died.
“It wasn’t luck, it was the will of the Almighty, blessed be he,” said Hannah, firmly. “Don’t feel bad. Animals die. Coyotes kill deer all the time. Do you know how I know it was the will of the One Most High, blessed—?”
“— Be he, yeah. Isn’t everything in your world?”
“I know because today is All Saints’ Day. Yester-night was its vigil, All Hallows’ Eve. It’s an important celebration. We were meant to come to this particular house last night, just as you were meant to shoot the deer when you did.”
“Right,” said Max, glumly. An unsettling thought dawned as the girl spoke. It lifted his low spirits and brought on a wry smile: she, the settler brat, looked down on him, an Officer of The Council. Wasn’t that a laugh? He balanced the turtle on a knee. It closed its eyes. “What’s that Hallows stuff and Saints stuff you’re talking about? Tell me more.”
“All Hallows’ Eve is the vigil of All Saints’ day, a day to mark the death of saints, both known and unknown.”
“Did you memorize that?”
“I did!” She continued: “We should have had a feast last night, but didn’t, and that’s why the deer came to us, so we could have a feast tonight. Tomorrow is All Souls’ Day, which commemorates the faithful departed. Altogether the celebration is a triduum, because it’s three days, well, one night and two days, All Saints’ Eve, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day. The whole triduum is called Allhallowtide!” She rapped her fingers on the purse with the kitten face and smiled.
Max set the turtle back onto the rock. “That’s a good thing, commemorating the departed. To me, one day’s pretty much like the next, except for its number. We’ve got some special days. Brotherhood Day, is one.” Brotherhood Day was the only formal holiday observed by the Council. “Hey, I brought a secret stash of chocolate bars and I was saving them for a special occasion. This Allhallow-thing, not to mention freezing to death in the middle of nowhere, is what I call a special occasion, so I’ll break ‘em out tonight, after our feast.”
“Freeze to death? What are you talking about?” cried Hannah. “We’re leaving in a few days, aren’t we?”
Email TECHNIUMBOOK AT GMAIL.COM for a review copy of A Daughter Of Her People. Please don’t buy it; I’ll have to file a tax form for chump change.