Children of the Summer

It was an unforgiving one hundred and four Fahrenheit in the valley that day. No breeze drifted down from the mountains to the arid stretch of desert where we had all gathered. The high-noon sun loomed overhead, heating the red sand beneath my thin leather soles. Devil’s Valley. I never thought I would be there, and I never would have had my baby there -- if there was any other way.

Another spasm of pain waved through my abdomen and I dropped to my knees. A contraction. My swollen belly hardened, pushing, making way for the life that was soon to exit my body and enter the outside world.

“You okay, Rae?” Lithe fingers gripped my shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. I looked up to see my friend Lucy’s concerned face. Her swollen belly doubled my own and she wore the same oversized white cotton gown. The gown’s fabric, soaked through with sweat, clung to her pregnant form. There were six of us wearing our ritual whites. Each of us at a full-term of pregnancy, mid-labor, gathered together on the longest day of the year. Summer’s Solstice.

I gave Lucy a weak nod and with considerable effort pushed back up to my feet. The five other expectant women stood to my right and left, forming part of a larger circle of women. Waves of hot air rose from the fiery red sand warping my vision and distorting the figures across the circle. Directly opposite me was a statuesque woman wearing a long black cloak with silver sun pendants sown into the fabric. Webs of lines wove across the woman’s thick sun-worn skin marking her many years on this Earth. She was the highest ranking of our elders. Our medicine woman, Belanne.

“We have a chance. A chance to save our town and our children’s future.” Those were the words Belanne had spoken to me last October when she’d summoned me to her office. Belanne has always been an equanimous woman who kept our morale going even amidst the most devastating losses. However, this last year marked a new height of terrors. Rain did not touch our ground for over two hundred days. Crops were blighted. Disease played freely among our people. An epidemic of heat-fatigue kept most people inside, moving as little as possible, killing any desire or motivation for life. There was a new desperation in the conviction of Belanne’s voice. I saw her edges wearing.

“The others will never agree to this.” I’d said when I heard her proposal. I was unsure I could agree to it. Cradling my stomach, I felt for the life that was newly growing inside. Belanne had always been my mentor, I would follow her to the end of the world but, this new life was my priority now. “How can we know it will work? It’s too great a risk.”

“Last winter I discovered an old tome buried in a storage bunker. The text contains lost medical knowledge – I’ve been using the methods to treat illnesses. There is a ritual promising great power detailed in the tome.” Belanne knelt down where I was sitting and clutched my hands. Her icy-blue eyes pierced through my apprehensions, stilling my fear. She had a way of making others follow. “My treatment rate has never been so successful. The wisdom in this tome might be ancient but it’s real, besides, there are six of you pregnant – the same number that the ritual calls for. All due roughly around the Summer’s Solstice. It is no coincidence.”

Children of the Summer. That’s what they were called, the beings that we meant to call forth. Six children born on the longest day of the year, to be blessed with the powers of nature.

I laced my fingers through Lucy’s and returned her squeeze. After three miscarriages Lucy was ecstatic to be in the final stretch of pregnancy, finally ready to welcome her baby to this world. I thought she would be the hardest to convince of what we were about to do, but her fervent support of the ritual was a surprise. The baby is here for a reason, she’d told me. All of the losses were preparing the way for something special. This baby is strong. She will save us.

“Let us begin.” Belanne’s voice boomed through the dry air, carrying to the edges of the valley. I stepped into the center of the circle along with the five other pregnant women. I reached for my gown and fumbled with the buttons, undoing each one before peeling away the soaking garment to reveal my bare, sticky skin. Without the thin layer of fabric for protection, the violent rays of the sun enveloped my body. The burning was immediate and agonizing. A slight brush of my loose hair across my shoulders was sand in an open wound. Why didn’t I pin my hair up that morning?

“Lay down,” we were commanded. I attempted to choke back my screams as I lay my swollen naked body onto the scalding valley floor. It was no use. Tears flowed freely and cries of agony escaped from me unbidden. My strangled voice mingled with the screams of my neighbors.

Why did I consent to a ritual in a place called Devil’s Valley? Belanne had told me that the name for the valley was only a misunderstanding due to a poor quality translation of the original people’s language. But we couldn’t know for sure and a name holds power. What answer would we receive to an offer made in a place like this? My mind reeled as I considered the weight of what we were about to do. I imagined running out of the valley and back to town as fast as my feet could carry me. Just as I was about to sit up and head away from that place my body contorted with another contraction and left me breathless. It was too late now. Whatever energy I had left, the baby needed.

“We are gathered here today on the longest day of the year to welcome the return of the Children of the Summer.” Low whispers came from all sides as the women in the circle began to chant. To my side, I saw Lucy on all fours in the sand. Her muscles strained with effort but I heard her breathing deep and intentionally, helping her body with the insurmountable task it had been given. I tried to turn my attention to my breath but it came weak and raspy.

“As the rites command us, we have brought six willing women and their unborn children.” As Belanne spoke the ritual a deep fire pierced through my body. I clutched my thighs and curled in on myself, my body pushing of its own accord. The baby would come soon.

“Six beings, born under the undying sun of the solstice, to be gifted with her powers. These ancient ones walked with us for many moons and now they return to us, to walk among us, to protect us.” The chants grew louder becoming a cacophony of strange words barely audible above our screams. To protect us. Belanne’s words echoed through my mind. She wasn’t speaking truthfully. We didn’t really know if they were meant to protect us. There were no details mentioning exactly what power they held, and how they were meant to use it.

Another spasm gripped my abdomen. My insides were liquifying, I was sure. It felt as though an iron vise clamped the top of my swollen stomach getting cranked tighter and tighter by an invisible force. The pressure was mounting, whatever fear that lingered in my mind was burned away by a maddening desire to push. All of my force culminated in one final effort and then relief swept through my body.

I picked up the tiny being that I’d just brought forth into the world and cradled it close to my breast. The small boy peered up at me, considering my worth for a moment before filling his lungs with air to let out an ear-splitting wail. His face flushed red with anger and indignation for being brought forth from his warm womb of comfort to this angry barren land. Fat tears began to roll down his cheeks and the sky darkened.

A drop of water landed on my scorching skin. Was that rain? I heard the cries from the other babies. They cried, louder and louder until the sound became a rumble filling the air, it was a crescendo of thunder. Torrential rain poured forth as the skies cried alongside the children.

My heart ran wild in my chest as I held his small wet body. My stomach turned, not from any real queasiness, but from a new understanding of my role. It was the first time I felt the gravity of being a mother. I was to guide him. To protect him. If he knew my protection, he may grant us protection too.