Jasmine of the Fireflies
by Margaret Smoke
A cool breeze meandered through the trees, granting fleeting relief from the thickness of summer air. Jasmine smiled, letting the grace of nature tickle her skin, and watched the fireflies flit and flicker around her. The humble beetles still reigned in this palace of peace, shrouded by trees with emerald leaves and healthy bark, and they graciously allowed Jasmine to take refuge here with them. As a child, she had come to believe it was they who had hidden her from the troubles of the world, and the belief carried her into her early twenties, a time, she discovered, that was full of discarded masks the world had worn to lure her into believing its smile was benign, not menacing.
When she first told her mother about this wooded spot that lined the neighborhood, this place with the "cool trees!" and the "cute little log you can sit on, and play on, but sometimes it's soggy when it rains, but it's really cool, Mom, and you can come with me!", her mother worried for her.
"It's hard for us out there, Jazi." That's what Mom always said when she talked about their brown skin or the curls of their hair. Jasmine had been safe from most of those hardships, until she turned twelve. After Dad's heart gave up, she began to understand the world outside of the fireflies' haven, the world Mom had warned her about since her earliest living memory.
The fireflies understood too. They had been understanding for years. They saw the tears for her father, the tears for the doctor who refused to believe her mother when she reported on her father's symptoms, the tears for Blessing, who could not love her anymore because God told her not to.
They understood her now, too, only she wondered if they realized that this would be the last time she would see them.
Her smile faded. Farewell, she wanted to utter. Fare well. I hope you fare well after I'm gone. Only they wouldn't. Their haven had been bought by scoundrels who didn't use nature's currency, by folks who didn't care that fireflies were suffering everywhere, that they could not migrate if their homes were destroyed.
The breeze subsided. Humidity made itself known again.
The cute log had since given itself over to the life cycles of nature, and Jasmine had replaced the seat with a hunk of tree trunk from her own front yard, when the power company had decided that the tree's life and the beauty its life lent to the neighborhood—a neighborhood otherwise defined by its cracked pavement and fading façades—was over. She sat on the trunk now, trying to reclaim her earlier smile, trying not to succumb to the uncomfortable summer heat that often clouded the happiness of minds when no relief existed. How could she tell those she loved that they were about to die? How could she give this truth life in her own mind?
I have to do it. She steeled herself against the next breeze, against the coming cold that would crawl over her heart.
"They are going to pave over your home."
She waited, anticipating a surge of tears, anticipating a portentous gust that carried the scent of tar and asphalt.
The fireflies flitted and flickered.
Until they stopped.
All at once.
The haven went dark, lit only by the structures of humanity many yards away. Other insects chimed in now, and a small animal rustled nearby. Jasmine shot up, glancing here and there and back again. The fireflies weren't gone, were they? Even if this were a coincidental lull in their signals, wouldn't she still be able to see them? To feel one buzz past her ear? She sighed and closed her eyes. She had killed them, killed her companions who had kept her safe every summer, killed them with but a few words, the same way others killed with their words in the world that took everything and left only pain. She had brought her world to their world, and it had snuffed out their starry light for good. She reached out her hand, hoping for just the gentle touch of a wing...
Someone grasped her palm. Her brown eyes shot open as she instinctively pulled away. The hand let her go, but Jasmine had tugged too hard, and now stumbled back into the sawn trunk. Cloudlike hands caught her before she could fall too hard, and they set her carefully on her seat.
"I won't hurt you," said the wispy voice, soft, and of a higher register.
Jasmine turned and met the visitor's face, and all at once, the sanctuary became a galaxy, vast with glowing and twinkling stars, their light gilding the deep brown skin of the young woman who gazed back at her.
"I know you," said Jasmine, studying the visitor's face. She was perhaps not even human, but Jasmine did not question this. She did not question her own sanity, as those who ruled the world had taught her to do. She did not look into the past, wondering if there was a neighbor girl she had forgotten growing up with. She did not scan the archives of high school memories, or work memories, to draw up the how and where and when of meeting this visitor. No. The visitor was no visitor at all. She had always been here.
"I know you too, but I have never known your name."
"Jasmine," she said.
"I like your name." She touched her heart. "I am Sana."
"Sana..." Jasmine shared a mutual smile with her, and the two laughed, as if not expecting to enjoy something as simple as a moment of unity.
"It was wonderful, growing up with you," said Sana. "I only wish I could have manifested myself sooner."
Jasmine's brow turned. "Growing up?"
"Yes," said Sana. "I was a little girl when you first came here. I am ashamed to say it took me more time to learn the skills needed to communicate with you. We are not many, us children of Nature. It grows lonely out here." Sana stared into the woods, away from the place Jasmine called home, but wished not to. "Do not worry, Jasmine, I do not blame you."
"I'm sorry..."
A reflective silence followed, accompanied by the continuous light of the fireflies.
"I would like to take you somewhere, Jasmine, if you'll come?" Sana offered her hand, but Jasmine shook her head.
"How can I, knowing you will leave soon? We only just met."
"We met long before this," said Sana. She offered her hand again. "Please, come with me on this adventure."
Jasmine took Sana's hand, feeling her sorrow melt in its warmth. "I will go with you."
Sana smiled and bowed her head, then lifted her empty hand to the sky. The fireflies rearranged their galaxy, leaving a thin tear in the light. Sana opened the tear with her hand, pulling aside the cloth of the haven, allowing Jasmine to step inside.
The dark of night faded, and the sounds of falling water took over. Jasmine and Sana stood on a flat rock stippled with leafy shadows, watching an elegant waterfall pour itself into the pristine natural pool below.
"This is beautiful..." said Jasmine. "I've never seen one of these before, not in person."
"I remember," said Sana. "You always wanted to visit one."
"And swim to the cave behind it."
Sana smiled. "Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?" Jasmine gasped. "We aren't jumping, are we?"
"We are," said Sana. "Today, you are safe. Nothing in nature can hurt you."
Jasmine looked at her, then at the waterfall, then at the sky. Look away for a sec, Dad, she thought. You too, Mom. She smiled at Sana, and gave her a firm nod as she toed off her shoes. "Jump with me?"
Sana gave her hand a squeeze. "Of course."
They shared nods, then jumped, falling, falling, falling into the crystalline waters with a satisfying splash! The humidity of night elsewhere on the planet erased itself from Jasmine's skin. She opened her eyes as Sana tugged upwards, and they swam to the surface, where they let go of each other and treaded water, laughing from the high of their jump.
"This way," said Sana, swimming ahead toward the waterfall.
A cave! "But won't the water hurt our heads?"
"Nothing in nature can hurt you!" she called back.
Jasmine swam after her. The waterfall poured over her, washing away any doubt in Sana's promise, and soon she was in Sana's hands again, being lifted up into the cave at the base of the waterfall. It was a small cave, wet and misty and as cool as the pool they'd leapt into. Sana opened her palm, revealing a parade of fireflies willing to glow during the day.
"This is all so beautiful, Sana," said Jasmine. "Thank you for taking me here."
"I am happy I can finally do it." She rested her hand on Jasmine's, and Jasmine took it once again. "I feel as if we have been friends forever, but I have never been able to tell you."
"We have been friends forever, haven't we?" Jasmine let out a defeated laugh. "I'm sorry it's all been so one-sided. I came to you and told you all my problems and secrets. Now that it's time to return the favor..."
Sana caressed Jasmine's cheek. "It is not one-sided. We protected you because you were our friend. You helped me guard my wards. You didn't try to cage them in a jar. You didn't kill them." She shifted her eyes toward the water-darkened stone they sat upon. "You listened to me, in my sorrow too, and you didn't always bring me the worst stories either!" She chuckled. "You had me laughing in times when my family was in great distress, times when I hadn't been sure I would ever laugh again."
Jasmine laughed and gestured at the fireflies. "This bunch certainly had me giggling a few times. I could swear they were chasing each other for fun, and landing on me just to be silly. Of course, I figured I was probably just telling myself that because it was amusing..."
"Oh no, you were absolutely correct. I have known these families for a long time. They are...I think you would say...goofballs."
The fireflies reacted positively, fluttering around them.
"Can't they migrate here?"
"Some can, those who are spirits bound to my family, but those bound more intensely to the life cycle...I fear it is the end for them."
"I am so sorry."
"We will persevere, and make their last moments memorable."
"What about..." Jasmine squeezed Sana's hand. "What about you?"
Sana rested her eyes on Jasmine's face. "This is not the end for us, only the beginning."
"And when they tear down the woods?"
"Then I will find you in other woods, if you want me to." Sana's thumb traced Jasmine's cheek. "Blessing was mistaken, but she cannot see souls the way we can. There is nothing unfit about you."
Jasmine leaned into her touch. "Is this really possible? To know you without ever having met you?"
"I don't know. It feels possible, but perhaps I am as overwhelmed by this as you may be. It is...new to me too. I am as young as you are, and I have few people to look up to in my generation."
"Are your grandparents as frustrating as mine?"
Sana laughed. "Yes!"
"Tell me about them sometime."
"Really?"
"Yes," said Jasmine, touching her nose to Sana's, "after this..."
She kissed her, a whim made more certain the longer the kiss went on and the deeper it became. Her heart pounded with the rush of new love, and the strangeness of falling for a deity of Nature. The heat of a blush raced up her neck and onto her cheeks, and suddenly she remembered that the fireflies were there, watching this private moment unfold, and she broke away from the kiss, but not without a beaming smile on her face.
"Can we take another adventure?" Jasmine asked.
"Anything," said Sana.
"I want to climb the tallest tree here..."
"...and look out over the forest like a bird," Sana finished.
Jasmine nodded, giddy, then stood, pulling Sana up with her. The two shared another kiss before Jasmine whisked her out of the cave and into the refreshing pool. The fireflies carried her shoes from the overlook down to the pool's edge.
Jasmine looked at her shoes, then looked at her feet. "Nothing in nature can hurt me today, right?"
"Yes," said Sana.
Jasmine took her hand. "Then let's run there. I'll get these later."
Giggling, they ran barefoot through the green trees, leaping over rocks and sticks and small valleys, taking breaks for breaths and embraces and kisses. They charted unknown territory in their hearts, reminiscing on moments they had shared when they were never really alone at all, bounding toward the tallest tree in the forest. At its base, they leaned against its wide trunk, and met lips.
"Are you ready?" said Sana.
"I'm ready."
They climbed, hands grasping rough branches and thick, semi-sticky vines, the scent of fresh dirt and leaves pervading the air. The tree itself seemed to move underneath them, helping them ascend, as if it were a parent holding them on its shoulders. They climbed and climbed and climbed until they reached the top, where the topside of the forest's vast canopy greeted them.
"To think that there are people who would tear this down for paper of imagined worth," said Jasmine.
"I like to think it is done out of necessity, sometimes," said Sana. "When a bird takes a worm from the soil, it is only to feed a child."
"The people in my world aren't all birds. They've lost sight of what's important."
"You haven't, Jasmine."
Maybe I have, Jasmine thought. I jumped into a portal just to get away from it all. "We were the last family in the way." She let go of Sana's hand. "I had to sell the house after Mom died. I had no other choice. I didn't know they would take the woods too. I thought they were just going to rebuild...I'm..." She inhaled deeply, shaking. "I'm the reason you have to leave. I'm the reason they're all going to die."
Sana stared at her for what felt like eons before speaking. "You did not know, but you are no bird, Jasmine." She opened her hand again, where one of her beetle wards sat, and she listened to its unheard speech. "They forgive you. I forgive you. You are one of us."
Jasmine embraced Sana, and wept the guilt onto her shoulder. Understanding their forgiveness would take time, but as Sana said, this was only the beginning for them.
"So," Sana nuzzled her ear, "where shall we go next?"