El Noche Lavanda

Chapter 1

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The lavender light washes over the city, tinting the river and the trees with sapphire speckles, and the spirits awaken to start their day.

Most people aren’t up during the sky dance, instead sleeping peacefully until the sun rises and the purple clouds dissipate. That was the agreement after all, the City of Noche Lavanda would belong to the humans from dawn to midnight, but when the clouds started to dance, it was the city of the spirits.

I've always been a bit of a night owl. One positive of insomnia is I see the sky dance nearly every night, and sometimes I sneak out of our little apartment and go explore the spirit's Noche Lavanda. It's a lively and bustling city at night. Spirits sell glowing magical trinkets from phantom booths, gravity defying neon signs suspended above them. The streets are lined with multi colored strands of paper lanterns that flicker as the spirits pass through them. All of this will disappear when the sun rises, and the spirits will return to their forest homes to sleep while the humans go about their business.

I should get more sleep, but it's difficult to deny the excitement of the city under the purple sky. Tonight, is El Festival de Los Espíritus. Tonight, the sky dance will start at nightfall. There will be a massive festival, with a parade and music. Humans are encouraged to participate, and it's the one night of the year that my older brothers come down into the city with me. If I’m lucky they’ll let me buy one of those cakes with the jelly center made of potions. Last year my friend Rita got one that gave her wings for the night.

Either way, human or spirit, it’s an exciting time, a special time. Even Senora Núñez is in a better mood, letting us go home early to get a nap before tonight. In class we made paper lanterns instead of taking an end of semester quiz, and she even brought us wish cookies. Rita promised to meet me at my place before the sky dance so we can go to the festival together.

As I walk home neighbors hang strings of paper lanterns and fly colorful flags out of their windows, the spring breeze causing them to flutter and dance. The smells of wisteria and lilac float through the streets, and I breathe in deeply, relishing the warmth of the setting sun.

When I get home, Julio is outside hanging our string of lanterns. He waves as I jog up the stairs and open the front door. The smells of tamales waft outside, and my mouth waters. Carlos is in the kitchen singing a folk song while he cooks. I knock on the table to let him know I’m there. He turns around with a big grin and waves me over,

“Hey Miguel! How was school today?” He asks me handing me a plate of fried papas, crispy and covered in spices. They smell so delicious. We head to the dining table.

“It was good. Senora Núñez let us make paper lanterns and eat cookies. Honestly, I think she was possessed by a party spirit,” I remark jokingly.

Carlos tries to hold back laughter but fails. Through his chuckles he makes sure to do his big brother duty and scold me, “Don’t make fun of your teacher, it’s disrespectful,” but I know he doesn’t mind. The door opens and closes. Julio shouts that he’s going to wash his hands, before running upstairs. Carlos and I continue to bring food out. He’s made enough for an army, including a giant pitcher of limonada.

When Julio comes back, we sit down to eat. It’s early for dinner, but we need to try to get some sleep before tonight. Most people in town do this, so we can wake up in time for the sky dance and the purple clouds. Tamales are a popular favorite but every family has different traditions. Mama loved tamales so that’s what she made when we were little.

This was Mama’s favorite day…before she got sick. Even when I was young, I didn’t sleep, so while Carlos and Julio were napping, I would sit with Mama and watch the sky dance commence.

It was so incredible, the sky spirits would take shape and form in a magical display of swirling shades of purples and pinks, painting the moon and stars and valley in soft lavender light. The purple clouds where more perfect than normal clouds, so round, puffy, soft, shaped like the clouds of a child’s imagination. We would watch the sky shift and change, while the faint sounds of the spirits in the city hummed like a lullaby.

I know that she would want us to celebrate and be happy today, and of course I will, but I also light a candle in remembrance before laying down for my nap. The sun sinks into the mountains outside my window. There’s so much energy in my body, it’s difficult to stay still, but eventually I do drift off.

****

The trill of my phone alarm goes off, and I groggily lift my eyes to see my room illuminated by violet light. I quickly toss aside my blanket, still dressed from the day. A macaw spirit flies past my window, and the sounds of the festival echo through the streets. It’s still early but the fun has already started. Neighbors call joyfully to each other, lighting the paper lanterns hung under their windows, and the music from the heart of the city invites us all to join.

I grab my phone off the charger, and put it in my pocket, throw on my crossbody bag, and slip on my sneakers. My phone buzzes in my pocket: Rita texting she’s on her way. I bound downstairs. Carlos and Julio are already awake, and waiting in the living room.

“Ready to go?” Julio asks.

“Ready.”

“Before we go, I have something for you,” Carlos says, pulling out a small purple bag, the contents clinking against each other softly, “Those were Mama’s. She’d want you to have them. You two always loved the festival the most.”

Carlos hands me the little velvet bag. When I open it, shining pale purple coins wink at me—spirit money. Incredible. Thanks Mama.

“Thank you.” I say to Carlos and Julio. My voice cracks a little and I look down, embarrassed.

“Awww Miguelito, come here,” Julio says bear hugging me. I laugh and whine in fake protest. Carlos joins in, burying me in hugs.

“Okay, okay, I get it, let me breathe.” They break away. Both still chuckling. I throw open the door and run down the steps to the street. All the flowers and leaves are stunning shades of magenta, lilac, and indigo. Carlos and Julio follow behind, shouting at me to slow down as I run ahead.

“Miguel!” I turn around to see Rita, coming up the street. She waves, and I slow down to wait for her. She runs a little to catch up. “Hey, do you like my dress?” Rita asks, doing a little spin to show off her dusty lavender dress and purple ballet flats. Her dark hair is braided down her back, adorned with wisteria and lavender.

“I think it looks really pretty on you,” I say. We both look away awkwardly. “Hey look at this,” I pull out the pouch of spirit coins, open it to show her how they glow.

“Wow, so cool,” she says quietly, the purple light of the coins glinting in her onyx eyes.

A quick glance to make sure Carlos and Julio are close behind, and we head down the street toward the heart of the city, pulsing with energy. People greet each other with Felíz Festival, and the little children run from house to house, people tossing candy to the streets below. Petals cover the cobblestone street like confetti, glowing under the lilac moon.

Rita grabs my hand and pulls us to a halt, pointing up at the sky. A few cloud spirits had gathered above us, a sky dance within the sky dance. Feathered spirits dart in an out of the clouds, and the tree spirit’s whispers and laughs echo like dainty bells. The city is alive tonight.

Down in the center of the city, the normal spirit shop booths are set up, but there are dancers, and musicians, and decadent foods made by both spirits and humans. People and spirits exchange gifts, bouquets of purple wildflowers, and cookies and cakes, all decorated with purple icings. Immediately, I head to a booth with the potion cakes. I use one of the precious spirit coins, but the spirit selling the cakes was so pleased, he gave me two for the price of one.

Carlos and Julio finally catch up to us, both having acquired some a bubbly lilac wine.

“Be careful with those cakes, yeah, I heard that Ramone had one last year that made him hiccup soap bubbles,” Julio teases. Rita rolls her eyes and scoffs,

“That’s silly. The spirits make better magic gifts than that.”

Carlos and Julio snicker, clearly amused by Rita’s indignance. I turn to Rita,

“Hey, let’s split them and each eat half, so we get the same gifts.”

“Really?! Thanks Miguel,” Rita smiles at me. I hand her one of the cakes to break in half, while I break the other one. We trade pieces, so we have one half of each cake. I take a bite of the first half, hit with the sweet and tart jelly potion center, floral but acidic, like a lemon hibiscus sweet tea. The soft springy cake tastes of vanilla and coconut. The second cake is even better, a thick raspberry and blackberry jelly, inside a zesty lime sponge cake, coated with a crunchy glaze.

I don’t even realize I closed my eyes until I open them, and notice that I’ve floated a foot off the ground. Rita starts to float too, laughing gleefully. Carlos and Julio stare, wide-eyed and slightly horrified.

“Dammit Miguel,” Carlos yells, “Be careful!” His voice fades as we float higher and higher. I reach out for Rita’s hand so we don’t drift apart. She grins, the skirt of her dress swooshing around her legs, and her braid floating above her head. My own shirt and bag float off my body. Flying spirits gather around us, intrigued. On lookers from below shout and point at us, entertained by the spectacle.

Eventually we get the hang of it: swimming around the sky, doing flips under the purple clouds. Other spirits join us in our game, flitting around us, flying above and below us, laughing at our clumsiness. As the night wears on we start to float closer to the ground, still taller than the stilt-walkers though, we weave through the parade, waving at awe struck children. I’m so caught up in the unbelievable feeling of flying, that I forget about the other cake we ate, until our feet touch the ground, and a voice from behind laughs, a familiar joyful laugh.

I whip around to identify the voice, met by a tall glittery spirit, with long black hair, and a mischievous smile…Mama?

“I’m glad to see you still have your head in the clouds, Mijo.” She winks and laughs again.

My eyes brim with tears, and I fling myself forward into Mama’s translucent but warm arms.

…..End of Chapter 1

Author's Note: For this challenge, I wanted to honor the history of Latin-American magical realism storytelling, as well as draw inspiration from modern works such as Encanto, Coco, Jane the Virgin, and Spirited Away. I hope you enjoyed my little story about the city of Noche Lavanda (Lavender Night in English)