Imbolc and the 'Ie ✅️

"I think we should leave."

My roommate, Ciara, raised an eyebrow. "Mele, we're parked outside her house."

"Exactly," I said, "So if we leave now, she'll never know we were here. And even if she does see us that could be a good thing; she might get so mad she'll break off the engagement."

Ciara rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Come on," she said, "Remember, we're doing this for Michael. Besides, I missed Imbolc last year to help you with midterms. You owe me."

"Witch," I grumbled.

"Teine sā," she teased.

"You know the teine sā weren't witches, ya?"

She shrugged. "Spirit women with magical powers? In tune with nature? Close enough."

"There's a big difference between that and drawing wax pictures for good luck."

Ciara wrinkled her nose. "Oh, you hush."

I wished Ciara wouldn't be so flippant about the teine sā. They were nothing like the witches in her family tree. The teine sā guarded the Samoan culture with extreme jealousy. They were so feared that to this day many Samoan people kept the mirrors covered and women rolled their hair up at night.

My phone went off and I pulled it out, swiping right to read a message.

"Mele," Ciara warned, "You better not be trying to run away from me."

I shook my head. "It's Mom. They still can't find Grandma's 'ie toga."

Ciara's skepticism wilted. "Oh no."

I grimaced. "And with the wedding in two weeks everyone's starting to panic."

A fine mat made of pandanus leaves, the 'ie toga was a labor of love. My grandma had plucked, stripped, and boiled the leaves herself before weaving together a mat that felt like silk. It was her gift to my sister, since she couldn't attend the wedding in person. She even made another one for Michael, whose wedding with the she-devil would be four months later.

Now here we were, two weeks before my sister's wedding, and the 'ie toga were missing.

Ciara's brow furrowed. "Do you need to go?"

I thought about it, then shook my head. "I'll be home in a few days. If they haven't found them by then, I can panic with everyone else."

I waved a hand at the she-devil's door. Remembering why we were here Ciara's anxiety melted away.

"You're gonna love this!" she said, "Imbolc is my favorite holiday! We celebrate the end of winter, getting a fresh start in spring and ooh!" she let out a squeal of delight, unable to contain her excitement.

"Let's just hope that she-devil doesn't ruin it," I said, "I'm warning you, she's messed up special occasions before."

Ciara laughed. "But how could she ruin Imbolc? It's such a simple holiday."

I grimaced, remembering how the she-devil had worn a bikini top to church on White Sunday. How a bimbo like that managed to snatch my cousin was still beyond me.

"Just brace yourself," I said, more to myself than to Ciara as she knocked on the door.

Seconds later it opened, and there stood the she-devil herself. For some reason she actually looked the part today. Her blonde hair was usually coiffed and waxy, but today it was damp, leaving wet marks on the tunic she wore. Her eyes looked like a raccoon's with all of the eyeliner she had smudged around them. And when she smiled, I spotted a fake piercing on her tongue.