Chapter 6: Vitellus Festival
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A week had gone by with the whole Sawyer family helping up with the festival preparations. Just like what Rick said, our father announced that he will take my brother along to the ritual so that my brother would learn the “ropes” when the time his turn came at the next Vitellus Festival. Mother and I continued working with the other women in making decorations to be put around in the village, especially in the plaza area. Since the people at Verdant Village and Jasper Town are considered neighbor communities, both always participate in festivities together. For the Vitellus Festival, it will be held at the Verdant Village and people from the town will visit on the festival day. The same tradition will also take place when Jasper Town holds a celebration, where people from the village are invited to take part.

The day of the festival came. Our whole family had gotten up a little earlier to tend to our animals before prepping and dressing ourselves up. A couples of days before the festival, mother had prepared a simple dress for me to wear for the festivity. A dress that I’m currently wearing and looking at as I stand in front of my mirror.

It’s a simple flowy dress that is a blend of dark green and white. The skirt part reaches just above my ankle and the sleeves covered up just before my elbows. Mother also gave me a silky white ribbon to pair up with it. I decided to put my hair up in a ponytail with the ribbon. Loose, short-stranded hairs escaped from the tying, framing the sides of my face. The whole image reflecting at the mirror is a simple yet decent looking young girl with a clear and bright face, her upturned hazel brown eyes sparkling with the sun’s light illuminating through the opened windows. The white ribbon strikingly in contrast to her dark raven hair, making it noticeable.

The dress is simple but pretty. I really like it. But too bad. I thought as I lamentably sighed.

Too bad. It might get dirtied a lot by the end of the day after I’m done with what I’m about to do.

“Are you all done? Let’s go. The festival is about to begin.” Father looked us all over and nodded, going towards the door first. The rest of us followed, finally leaving the house as we head to the plaza.

 

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From an ordinary looking sight, the village plaza today was filled with vibrant colors from the streams and flowers that were put surrounding it, making the area lively and pleasing to the eyes. A huge unlit bonfire-like structure was put up in the centermost of the plaza, which will be lit up by at night, as part of the festival’s conclusion. With the weather boasting a clear and bright blue sky, neither too hot or cold atmosphere, and pairing this up with the wind gently blowing as it picked up the lovely scent of flowers, the people already present had apparently in a great mood to chatter and mingle, happy expressions painted on their faces. It was also evident to my family’s expression. With Rick separating, saying he would talk with his friends, the rest of us also dispersed and mingle in the crowd.

I walk around, seeing familiar faces and unfamiliar ones, guessing the latter that they’re from the town who decided to join early in the merriment.

As I continue surveying my surroundings, I saw Mrs. Mason who had a hand on one side of her hips, while the other was pointing at a three very young boys who had their heads slightly bowed, but has mischievousness in their wide adorable eyes. Recalling one of the previous chatters I listened during last week, these three seemed to be Mrs. Mason’s sons that she had trouble looking out. It seems she is nagging at them right now and the boys are putting up obedient expressions. Wanting to observe them longer, I was distracted when somebody announced that the festival is about to begin.

A crowd began to gather around the center, where the speaker had stood beside the huge bonfire structure. Looking back at the direction where Mrs. Mason and her sons were, I no longer saw them. I walked towards the crowd and saw that those who are joining in the ritual began to gather. I scanned the group and saw Father and Rick among them.

The ritual was simple from what my father had explained when I asked out of curiosity when I was a child. As the main participants gathered, they will form a circle around the unlit bonfire and would utter a prayer asking for a good new year ahead and blessings. As they pray, the group would clap their hands five times, their faces looking up the sky, then will get on their knees and bow their head in solemnity and their hands clasped in a praying manner. This will be repeated twice until the prayer was done. During this ceremony, the other people would be a little distance away from the group and remain silent, their heads bowed, hands clasped in praying. This was the first half of the ritual. The last half will be done at night, where it concludes the celebration.

Father was part of the main group while Rick stood at the side and nearest from the group, together with the others who will also be participating next year. Being one in the outermost part of the crowd, I can only vaguely recognize his and father’s features when I tried to peek.

A moment of silence ensued after the prayer. Then people became lively once more. The speaker from before tried to get the attention again of everyone, announcing the commencement of the Egg Hunting. Cheers erupted, especially the eager voices of children can be heard as they’re excitement grew from the prospective fun event. Rules and reminders about the contest was explained loudly by the speaker regarding what only to find, where they can be found, what area are off-limits, and what prizes can be earned at the end of the game. At the countdown of five, the adults then cheered the young ones as the children, lads and lasses had scattered and began to look for the painted “eggs” on the areas they might be hidden. Some are already exclaiming in delight, holding colorful small oval shaped objects in their hands. Some had pouted, and decided to go further to look. Others began to bicker as some of them found it at the same time, both sides not willing to let go.

“What are you still standing there for, lassie?” An old vigorous man with a bushy beard suddenly remarked beside me.

“Go and start looking already, girl! With the looks of these kids, there might not be one left for you.” He bellowed, his laugh contagious.

“It’s alright, Mr. Tim.” I addressed the old man, one of the friendly neighbors and close to our family.

“It’s already fun watching those children scampering about and hearing their delight laughter.” I laughed, explaining my lacking of enthusiasm in joining.

“Maybe I’ll try joining later. Try my luck to see if there’s still some left I could find.” I shrugged, smiling.

“My, my. You sure looked grown up now, dear.” Mr. Tim patted my head. “By the way it looks, you’ll going to be a pretty lady sooner.” He winked.

I laughed, feeling bashful at the flattery and thank Mr. Tim politely.

The atmosphere continued to be lively, the young ones kept searching while the old folks and those who didn’t participate in the egg hunt conversed. Food and drinks were served in long tables where everyone could take part. But mostly everyone were focused in socializing or monitoring the children.

When I was about to look for my mother, three kids had run in front me, almost bumping into me if I hadn’t notice them immediately and stepped back.

“Sorry, Ma’am! Please excuse us!” one of them screamed as the other two squeals in laughter and they continued running. My gaze followed them, recognizing the three children. Then I continued looking for my mother, who was talking with other women.

“Mother, I’m a bit sleepy, may I go home for a moment?” I asked her as I approached.

My mother gave permission and reminded me not to forget and return to join in the last part of the ritual at night. I nodded obediently and politely greeted the others with her before walking back to our house.

When I got back home, I directly went up to my room and pulled out a worn satchel, with 3 bulging objects inside that was wrapped in a cloth. At the back of our house, I looked for a pair of shears, rope, a piece of wooden board and an axe. Before stuffing the wooden board inside the bag, I looked for a white paint and written something on the board and letting it dry. Checking to see if I have all I think I needed, I left our house again and look at the sky. Judging from the brightness of the sun, the time would already be noon.

It seemed I still have enough time. I thought, my heart palpitating, as my feet take me further away from the plaza, where the festivities are currently ongoing. To the place where people are presently wary, in the direction of the woods.

Enough time where I could prevent a tragedy in the midst of the day where people are supposed to be celebrating, but turned into mourning as the night came. My first attempt in remaking a detail, an alteration from the past.

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