Hillsboro was a small Midwestern farming town, so named because it was nestled at the bottom of the highest hill in three counties. While the hill was technically private property, with three farms converging at its crest, the irregularity of the land made it difficult to till and its woods made it unsuitable for grazing. The farmers had left the flanks of the hill wooded, although since earlier generations had cleared the hilltop for use as a lookout against Indian attack, they maintained the meadow at the top and allowed the townspeople to use it as a park, a great boon for the small, unincorporated village. The park was a favorite daytime play place for local children because of its history and, the rock, a standing stone at the very peak that provided cover during the inevitable games of Cowboys and Indians.
Originally, the people of Hillsboro had all come from the same district in southwest England and settled together. Over the years, some people came and went, but the core of the population was of the same English-Welsh stock. These were people who had descended from the Celts and Druids who came before them and who revered the old ways even though they were nominally Christian. Families were closely knit and passed down stories of the old times. They lived close to the land and remembered the ways their forebears used to ensure the fertility of the land and the people.
As April was drawing to a close, Bob Johnson looked out across his fields and commented to his wife Sarah that it was almost planting time. Sarah smiled to herself and said "Bob, you know better than to go planting too early in the season. There's still the risk of frost and the ground hasn't been prepared yet." Bob nodded his agreement and said he knew he needed to wait, but he was ready to get started. Over at the Peterson's house, John and Maggie were having a similar conversation.
Bill Williams looked his wife Becky in the eye and asked her if she remembered the steps to a dance they'd once done. Becky smiled as she lifted her skirt with one hand, waved the other over her head, and started a jig in the kitchen. She stopped only when her kids came in, saw what she was doing and groaned as only teenagers can. "Mom! Stop it! Our friends are coming over and you'll embarrass us." Becky stopped dancing and asked which friends were coming and whether they would be staying for dinner. When she found out it was the Johnson twins, she grinned and called Sarah to find out their plans for the evening. The Johnson twins, Sue and Bonnie, had been born within two weeks of the Williams' elder daughter, Beth, and the kids were together constantly. Bill and Becky's other daughter was two years younger, but was accepted as a peer by the older children because she had a way of knowing things that made her seem wise beyond her years.
Later, as the sun went down, Becky called her neighbor, Jo Worthington, to see if she would be willing to watch all of the kids while the adults went out for the evening. "We need you to ride herd on the kids because we'll be out late. Maybe you can join in the festivities next year. In addition, because of the importance of the occasion, I'm going to pay you twice your normal sitting rate. Bring your sleeping bag and make it a slumber party." Since all of the girls were close friends, Jo was happy to look after the younger ones and thrilled to be getting the extra money.
Jo came with her parents, Rick and Marty, and as the adults prepared to leave, Marty told Jo, "I know you're responsible, but I want to reiterate the rules. There will be no boys allowed in here, no tying up the telephone, and everybody needs to stay in the house for the entire night. Everybody has sleeping bags and there's plenty of pizza and movies you can watch. If there's a problem that needs adult attention, Mrs. Phillips, across the street will be home and watching out to make sure everything's OK. She knows where to reach us if there's an emergency."
As the Williams, Johnson, and Worthington adults left the house, Marty asked Sarah if Joe and Suzy Henderson would be coming. The Henderson's were the youngest couple in Hillsboro and had just gotten married a month earlier. At 25, Joe had surprised everyone in town by taking over his father's car repair shop so his dad could retire early. Joe's dad, Hank, and his wife loved to travel and had just left for a four-week trip to see their ancestral home in England. Suzy was new to the community as Joe had met her when he was away at school, but she was friendly and interested in everybody, and she'd been accepted by everyone in town. Before Sarah had a chance to reply, Bob said he hoped Suzy would be there because he'd love to see her do the old dances. Sarah elbowed him in the ribs and said he really just wanted to see the town's newest hot babe. She then said he'd probably get his wish because Maggie Peterson had told her Joe and Suzy were looking forward to the celebration.
The three couples climbed into the Williams' van and rode the short distance up the hill to the park, talking about previous celebrations and what fun they'd been. When they arrived, they saw three other cars in the parking lot, belonging to the Petersons, the Hendersons, and, an unfamiliar car that belonged to Fred and Grace Watson. The Watson family had lived in Hillsboro for many years, but the youngest generation had moved away after college to get jobs in the city rather than continue farming the land. A week earlier, Fred's dad, Jake, had asked him to come back to town with his wife for the annual celebration. Since Fred and Grace had never participated in the celebration before, Jake explained it to them and they agreed to come and carry on the tradition.
As the full moon rose and cast its white light over the hilltop, the lone figure of Jed Phillips appeared next to the rock and called them all to it. As the couples assembled in a circle around Jed and the stone, Jed said "Welcome to the annual Hillsboro celebration of Beltane. For those of you who haven't participated in this before, I want you to understand that our purpose here is to fertilize and renew our land. This is at once a joyous occasion and a solemn one because it brings our town together and it blesses our land for the coming year. While I am the leader in the sense that I get the celebration started, I am not a participant in the way that you are. As most of you know, my wife is at home and while I have her blessing to be here, I am old and can no longer do the dance, so my role is to keep the cadence and help you younger folk dance and celebrate."