The Adventures of Ameena Hawk

Ameena’s Dream was to study the world's master’s art in La Paris, an artist's paradise, and practice her painting style. She looked at nature as inspiration amongst her father’s country homestead, west of the city where she grew up. Ameena left for her usual walk surrounded by forest-trees. She longed to go somewhere she could only get to on foot, where she found a beautiful colored bird. She sat down on top of a fallen tree to admire him and capture his pattered feathers, and took a breath. The breath contained inside her lungs emptied from air to ether and ether back into the wind. Not long after, her foot collapsed, the bird bolted to his nest. A strong force of wind followed him, which left Ameena in shock and wonder.

“The simplest of things are often our greatest gifts in life. Something so fragile looking, though his wings are stronger than most hearts.”

Ameena stared into Mr. Sun for gratitude. Mr. Sun acknowledged and gracefully answered.

“It was all for you, and you for it.”

Let out a sigh of glory; she felt weightless. Ameena was not frightful, nor was she bashful gazing directly into Mr. Suns’ core. She pondered her heart’s content and carried on. Upon taking her eyes off the center of the Sun, she saw the rounded corner of a little black notebook.

“Ooh, look, a little book!” She announced to herself & Mr. Sun.

Ameena’s legs took two enormous strides, leaned over, and removed the fallen branch from the top.

Ameena picked the mysterious book up by the bind and placed it in her breast pocket. She saw her tracks and embarks back. An abandoned truck to the left of her and big bright Mr. Sun upright. She climbs to the top of the musty-smelling hill to take a good look at the land.

“I will want a new rock to join the green rainforest jasper at home,” Ameena said.

Two is better than one, she thought. Bent down and picked one up, Ameena opened her side pocket to drop it inside. About to arrive home, she made one loop around the laundromat then walked through the backyard gate to greet her father’s fiance. She had gotten back from picking out the animals for the beginning of our farm. Mrs.Cure arranged for one male quail, four females, two female rabbits named Celeste and Nebula. They were to go with her beloved male rabbit named Moonie.

“May I take a picture of you holding the quail, please?“

“Of course.” Mrs.Cure replied and posed.

Mrs.Cure bowed her head from the camera since Mrs.Cure didn’t do her hair quite right that day. They put her back into the nest and gathered into the house for a cup of warm water.

Ameena went into the restroom to blow the snot from her twenty-seventh of February nose. She took off her winter coat, sensed the extra weight on the coat hanger, and immediately. She remembered the found treasure she had unearthed. Unzipped each pocket, collected the mosses, the rock, and the feather, pulled out the mysterious little black notebook, and brought them into her study. She plopped everything over her desk. She shuffled over to the mirror, acknowledged herself, and changed the day away by the closet. A long and slow exhale after being seated at her desk.

“Feels so good to begin the end of the day,” she said.

In the drawer, she picked up a matchbox and a pure white candlestick. Ground down the end of the candle against the silver ring until it sat just right. Otherwise, the candle would fall as it was burning. She was striking the bright red potassium chlorate to the stripe. First, a spark, the match head quickly and strongly ignited the flame. The flame illuminated caramel-grains within the wooden desk. Now, she could inspect her treasure found in the woods. Her eyes like lasers on the matter that did make up this little black book. Running her hand along with the elastic closure, she unwrapped it from around the two rounded corners. Ameena glanced through the window to see the full snow moon.

Ameena saw magic. In the very depth of her heart, she felt that this was going to be something spectacular. It had seemed like a gift bestowed, though who could it have come from, a secret admirer? Perhaps, this was Mr. Suns’ way of honoring her, she thought to herself subtly. Ameena slowly blew off the last of the dust of the earth. She was listening to the binding crack and crease and opening the little black book. It was as if only she had opened it one hundred times, but she knew she had never held a book of such mysticism before. A feeling so nostalgic. Ameena flipped the black cover, and at last, she could see the brightness of the ivory paper.

In contrast, Ameena could not believe her eyes. Magnificent sapphire blue writing, glistening like rubies, dancing and playing in plain sight, swirling, just as fast as they appear. Lo, they read themselves away. She read as many words as her brain and eyes could collect. Precious words would soon disappear before her eyes. Her hands quickly flipped the first page, the next page, and the next; her eagerness got the best. The ivory pages are blank. She cut the pages in half, placed the thin black ribbon in the spine, and closed the little black book. In disbelief that what she saw could be real. She walked over to the mirror, her cheeks flushed, and rosy turned away.

"If what I am seeing is real, what could all this mean?” but Mr.Sun was gone; she was alone at that moment.

Into the distance, the call of the Long-Eared Owl nestled in the pine tree, yellow eyes pierced through the air directly matched with Ameena's brown eyes, still in her small candle-lit room, she stood. The flickering flame aside and a portion of the window pushed open; the brisk air outlined the four walls. Her feet were cold, but her mind was sharp.

An abrupt voice echoes from down the hall, her father’s voice called her for a cup of tea. Ameena peaked her head in the hallway.

“None for me, Pops.”

“Alright, dear.”

She closed the door, hurried to place her hands back on the windowsill and her eyes through the glass to see the owl still looking out for her; Ameena smiled at the owl’s presence; she sensed that she has been guiding her just as Mr.Sun does for her too. The owl fixed her wings and flew from the Pinetree. From the windowsill and onto her bed. Perfectly placed pillows and hand-knit blanket her great-grandmother made for her with her own two hands. She tossed the decorative pillows off and covered herself with the blanket, and slept underneath the stars.

All through the night, Ameena’s body restored itself, and her mind is elsewhere. Throughout the wee hours of the morning, Mr.Sun spoke into her ear.

“Bring the book, Ameena; you are going to need it.”

Ameena rose before dusk. Ameena picked out a warm pair of socks and a scarf, meeting Mr.Sun. At the tree stump, she kneeled and placed the little black book on the leveled surface. Mr.Sun gave her the go-ahead; she put her hand over the cover. Not knowing for sure what was to come, but she knew her task was to surrender and trust at this moment.

“May we all be well,” she wished.

Ameena pulls the matching black ribbon out from the center and raises it to the sky. Out from the spine shot like airplanes, three strings of pearls, four purple amethysts, and sparkling rainforest jasper agate, even the rarest beautiful blue agate, handmade into necklaces. Seven children's music boxes. And various shapes and sizes of blue sapphire jewels and red rubies galore. Twenty thousand dollars descended from the one fluffy cloud beside her. Clear blue skies surrounded and Mr.Sun, so big, watching her amidst. Ameena’s laughter and delight made his core stronger and brighter.

Ameena asked him, “For what do I owe you, Mr.Sun? Is what I see true?”

Mr.Sun could sympathize with her.

“Ameena, you are true. You are deserving. You are pure.”

Ameena sat against the tree stump with the book under her feet and her pearls wrapped around each ankle.

Gracefully accepting, she said, “Mr.Sun, I love you,”

“Ameena, you ought to understand today we are in plain sight. Your work was not in vain; these gifts came to you as forged from your hard work, of Fortitude, perseverance, and healing. Your daily tasks are your reward, and remember that no additional premium can make one feel whole. Through a willingness to pursue mountainous tasks regardless of the risks, those come to you with the highest bounty bestowed. None other than the wisdom you have acquired but, these jewels and currency will be of great help to you and your loved ones; my love for you is steady, Ameena. And one last thing dear, words are written in your black booklet, are each story we have exchanged through your dreams. They are recorded from our time together and will continue but freight not; I am always near, Ameena.”

Ameena was never the type to freight. A single blank cotton page floated from above, and an ink pen popped out of the book one last time. Ameena smiled and carefully drew the scene just as they saw it. Dazzling pearls and children’s music boxes under the sun with her heart so content. A masterpiece.