Amazing Amelia and Even More Amazing Emily
The discovery that changes everything for these two best friends
We were a little late getting our newsletter put together for this week, but here are the next three chapters of The Dictionary of Curious Words: Volume Two: Over the Chimney. These come from the Midpoint, and Chapter 19 shows Amelia at her most independent.
Some kinds of missing can creep up on us gradually. Life goes along from one day to the next with everything the same. Then an event or a memory triggers a reminder that something or someone is missing.
This was not like that. I missed Amelia immediately, and so did all the chickens.
There on the wild river, things were different. As evening came, there were only shadows, and they all looked the same. It was so late, and she was so tired. The moon was full and bright. As it had risen in the sky, she thought that she was getting closer. It had to be closer. It just had to be.
She had flown from tree to tree, seldom feeling the earth beneath her feet. This was not flying the way she had remembered it. With an entire flock, flying was different. It seemed easier with companions for encouragement. By herself, she was more aware of her limitations.
She realized she was not like the Canadian geese, who had flown so high and over such great distances. Even though she had always been the best flyer, she realized that even at her best, she could only fly like a chicken.
Amelia was glad Emily was not there. Emily had always looked up to her. Emily would not be looking up to her if she saw her there alone in the middle of the wild river searching for a safe place to roost.
There was no way of knowing what might be in the hollows of the trees along the shore. The limbs might be safer. But if she closed her eyes, what might grab her while she slept?
She longed for the comfort and safety of home. Then she remembered why she was doing this. It was not for herself. It was not to prove that she could fly to the moon and back. More than anything, it was for Emily.
With Amelia away and on her own, there would be no reason for The Absence of Love to torment Emily any longer.
Emily had a gift within herself that would never be fulfilled until she learned to stand on her own without leaning on Amelia. Amelia knew these things because she was a Sentinel, even though she was unaware of being a Sentinel. She also did not know what Emily’s gift was, only that she needed to find it on her own, and perhaps that she would find it more easily by herself.
Amelia was not lost. She had made her map of the world, and she could find her way back home any time she wanted. She was not afraid, not yet. But she was alone out there on the wild river.
At last, she found a high limb on a tree near the shore that seemed to be safe. There were some brittle, dead lower branches. If anything tried to climb higher, those branches would break, and the noise would wake her up.
It felt good to relax and stretch out her legs. She reminded herself that she would still have to find out if she could be lost and not afraid. And I must know that, she told herself as she closed her eyes before drifting off to sleep, as surely as Emily must discover her gift.
When Amelia woke up the next morning, she stood and shook out all of her feathers as if shaking off a bad dream. Then she remembered she was far away from home. She remembered she was there to protect Emily and keep her safe from The Absence of Love.
She looked around and realized she had roosted much higher in the tree than she had realized. To get her bearings, she began to taste and smell the air. Her study was interrupted when she looked down to a lower branch and saw a chicken who looked exactly like her. What if it is just my reflection on the river’s glassy surface, she wondered. A large-mouthed bass broke the water, caught a water skimmer for its breakfast, and disappeared without disturbing the image of the other chicken. She knew then it was not a reflection.
“Good morning,” she said.
The chicken looked up, saw that Amelia was at last awake, and flew up to join her on the same branch.
“I wondered when you would be waking up. You must have had an exhausting flight getting here to our forest by the wild river.”
“At first, I thought I was looking at my own reflection in the river’s water. Then the wind made ripples in the water and I knew you were not a reflection. You look just like me,” said Amelia. “Is your name Mayflower?”
“It is, and if you know my name, then your name must be Amelia. Welcome to this, our stately, riparian home.
“My friend, The Swift, told me about you. I will ask him to send a message to Gracie to let her know you arrived safely.”
“Please do not do that,” said Amelia. “No one must know where I am. The Absence of Love must never find me, or it will make my friend Emily waste away and die.”
“To think that out of all the trees along this wild river, you would end up in this one is really quite baffling,” said Mayflower. “It is especially so when you wished not to be found.”
“I cannot figure it out myself,” agreed Amelia.
She looked up and saw a silhouette high in the sky. It was a raven, circling and searching.
“Since we have friends in common, that makes us friends asd well,” said Mayflower. “ÏHÏ, Amelia.”
“ÏHÏ, Mayflower,” said Amelia, still studying the early morning sky.
She watched as the raven above them stopped its circling and began to appear larger and closer, until it finally dove towards them.
They heard the raven call “ÏHÏ” to them before landing on a branch above them with the best protective view of the forest, the shore, and the wild river.
“Do not be alarmed,” said Mayflower. “She is a friend too.”
“For a hen who is trying to not be found, I certainly am not doing an impressive job of it,” said Amelia. “I have evaded every songbird along the way, always keeping my left wing to the shore and the wind behind me. Yet here I am surrounded by birds who seem to know me.”
“Yes, and there are two barn owls in the hollow below us as well,” added Mayflower.
“We cannot escape what is to be,” said The Raven. “Some call it fate. I simply call it What Is To Be. That is what I shared with our friend Gracie many months ago, just before she faced The Sewer Rat. There is a much bigger plan, and you are part of it too, Amelia.”
“I know you,” said Amelia. “You are The Raven With Blue Eyes. I admire you more than I would ever be able to say. Won’t you let me join you and your squadron of crows? Then Emily and I will always be safe.”
“Tell me, Amelia, which is the way home?—to your garden home with Emily?” said The Raven.
Amelia inhaled and tasted the morning air again, and then, she pointed with her beak to the south by south-east.
“The garden home is that way,” she said.
“Excellent. And how many days would it take for a swift to travel there?”
Amelia inhaled the morning air even more deeply and closed her eyes in thought. She had learned from the songbirds that distances are measured by how long it takes a swift to travel them.
“Half of from sunrise to noon.”
“How did you know that?” asked Mayflower in amazement, and then, without waiting for an answer, she said, “Tell me what has happened here at this tree that I now call my home, even though it’s far from the homes people gave me.”
Amelia studied the tree branches below and the shore close by. She waited until she had considered carefully each little indent and abrasion in the earth and each area of new foliage growth along the shoreline.
“An unpleasant man has been here. He fell there, in the water near the shore. It was quite a big fall, too. One that likely made him furious,” said Amelia, pointing downward with her beak. “Something or someone made him fall and chased him away, likely those owls you mentioned. That would be my best guess.”
“Those things all happened long before you ever knew Gracie or the others. You and Emily did not move to her garden home until after my friend the Swift took that message to her. Did anyone ever tell you Professor Accipiter had been here?”
“Is that the unpleasant man’s name?” asked Amelia. “It is not the first time I have heard of him.”
“Have you ever heard of chickens who are Sentinels? You are a Sentinel, Amelia, just like me. But with keener skills than mine. It takes me several days to adjust to a new location, but your skills are far sharper and in much less time. The life of a Sentinel is all about helping others to find their purpose in life and then becoming who they are meant to be. Like with Emily.”
Amelia looked quite baffled.
“Being a Sentinel may be why you ended your first day of journeying here rather than somewhere else,” suggested The Raven. “You were drawn to Mayflower.”
“Well, surely you can use someone like me in your Squadron,” said Amelia. “Will you let me join you and learn from you? Then Emily will always be safe.”
“You do not know what you are asking. You already know that you can no longer fly as you once did. You fly like a chubby young hen, not a sleek, tapered raven or crow. This is the real world out here, not a magical garden with a Healing Tree that The Absence of Love seeks to destroy. Out here, an injury means death.”
The Raven watched as Amelia’s countenance fell. “Once you have learned what you need to learn out here along the wild river, we may possibly have a place for you.”
“What must I learn?”
“Your strength and independence are good qualities, but you must learn to trust others. That is the only way you can fly with a Squadron like my crows.”
“She is right,” said Mayflower. “From what I heard in the stories The Swift has brought to me, Emily trusts everyone but herself, while you only trust yourself.”
Amelia looked up at the Raven, and asked, “What drew you here?”
“I have been asked to find you by a Guardian, someone who you have never met but who cares about your safety. I had only a general idea of the direction you may have gone, the most dangerous direction of all—this one. It was the only direction that makes sense because you are a Sentinel on a mission, and I admire what you are doing for your friend.
“As to how I came to find you here, I was scanning broadly in all directions. Even though you barely knew each other, when you called each other ‘Friend,’ I could see your love for each other with my blue eyes. Even though my ears may be fooled, just as yours may, the color of Love is unmistakable to my eyes.”
“What is that color,” asked Amelia.
“It is the one color that has no name. That is why our friend, Pearl, has learned so many names for colors from the songbirds. She believes she will find love in the many names for colors.”
“Will she ever find love?”
“Your question and concern as a Sentinel tells me she will. Perhaps very soon. Perhaps when you return to your garden home.”
“But I cannot go back or Emily may die. She is my friend and I cannot let The Absence of Love do anything horrible happen to her. I will not go back, and you cannot make me.”
Suddenly, Amelia felt quite foolish. She remembered the story of The Fox at Lefty’s Farm, and would never forget how The Raven and her Squadron of Crows had forced him to return to his den. She knew The Raven and The Crows could drive her back home if they chose.
Amelia hung her head. “Please do not make me go back.”
The Raven’s voice softened. “You are such a brave and willful one. You have a considerable amount of love in your heart, but you have decided not to trust anyone with it. How very sad.
“All any raven can do is tell you what we see. It is your own one glorious life to do with as you will. Should you need me, simply call my name—Susanne—and I will come to you. And in your wanderings, please let me know if you should find a raven named Elise, she will be my sister.”
And with that, she flew back towards the west. Amelia knew she was not heading to tell Gracie or Emily where she was, and that was a relief. Most likely, The Raven was heading to Lefty’s Farm.
“If there was ever anyone I admired for their leadership and flying ability, it would be that raven,” said Amelia to Mayflower. “But I do not need the help of any other bird. I am my own hero.”
Amelia flew off in the opposite direction. She would travel further along the wild river, avoiding every songbird along the way, keeping her left wing to the shore, and watching for the Moon to rise, so she could head towards it. She would do that for as long as it took.
“No one can find me when I am lost,” she told herself aloud. “I am not afraid now, and I will not be afraid when I reach the Moon.”
Important Poll Question (best to answer after you’ve read Chapter 19): I have been wondering about something not only for this chapter but others later on as well. It is a question that comes up for me whenever story action happens but Nate is not one of the characters who sees the action or takes part in it. Basically, Nate has written it down in his journal—“From Nate’s Journal”—based on what Amelia has told him later after the action—but is this confusing? Do chapters like this need something like: “When Amelia returned home, she told me about her travels. She had quite a lot to tell me about being on what she called The Wild River.”
This next chapter is about the importance of not hiding the truth. (You might consider it a form of lying.) It demonstrates the internal turmoil experienced by Emily because she did not tell what she knew right away. By showing the results, this is a different approach to the rule “Always tell the truth.” In the end, Emily was glad that she finally told the truth because hiding the truth kept her separated from him, and not telling the truth was also hiding something that she and Nate both needed to know.
“I have been thinking about how Amelia wanted to know if she could be lost and not afraid.”
“Yes?”
“And how she told me once she felt like her world was being kept small by these fence walls.”
“Go on.”
Emily looked as if she had said all that she dared to say, even though there appeared to be more that needed saying.
“It’s alright, Emily. You can tell me anything.”
“Even if you think I’ve done a bad thing? Not just a bad thing, but a terribly bad thing?”
“Emily, even if you did a terribly, horribly, bad thing, that would never stop me from loving you.”
“I know what Amelia meant by all of those things that feel like a wall. I feel there are walls all around me. I want to get free from them, but I can’t.”
“Emily, are you saying you hope to go away too? Are you saying you intend to go and find Amelia?”
“No. It’s not that, it’s not that at all. I don’t want any other home but this one. But I don’t feel like I’m here any longer. I know my feet and my body are here, but there is something about myself that is not here right now. I see you like a faraway, fading covert of green, fading into the atmosphere. Likewise, I cannot talk to you like I could before, and I miss you. I can say all the same words, but it does not feel the same inside when I say them.”
Not knowing what to say, I didn’t say anything.
“I miss you,” she repeated.
I thought she was talking about missing Amelia.
“I want to come home.”
“But you are home, Emily. You don’t have to come home. You don’t have to miss me. I’m still right here with you.”
“There is something I have not told you—something I have been hiding from you. Even with Amelia having been gone for so long now, I cannot tell you—I can only show you.”
“It’s alright, Emily. You can show me anything. Whatever it is, it won’t stop me from loving you.”
She went to the far corner of their run area and began scratching in the straw and dirt. She carefully pulled out what had been buried there and placed it in front of me.
It was Amelia’s travel bag. The red cord was slightly frayed and split. There was a hole in one bottom corner and a few sunflower kernels had spilled out along the way from its hiding spot at my feet.
Emily and I stared at it without saying a word. The silence was hurting Emily more than anything I could have said.
“Emily.”
She began to sob.
“Emily, please let me hold you.”
She flew up into my arms and hid her face between my jacket and chest.
She didn’t speak until she felt my tears landing on the feathers of her neck, the ones that were so beautiful and so iridescent.
“The day Amelia left, I was eating breakfast salad with everyone else. I heard a big flapping of wings, and I knew Amelia had left. I avoided seeing her fly away. Nor did I go back to eating breakfast.
“I did not desire to do anything except see Amelia one more time. Finally, I looked up and saw I was right. She was gone, and she had forgotten to tell me ‘goodbye’ before she flew off to the Moon.
“When we had playtime in the garden, I found her travel bag on the ground between the door and The Healing Tree. I knew she would come back for it. At least, I hoped she would come back for it. I took it and put it away for safekeeping. Then, when she realized she did not have it, she would come back for it, and she would ask me where it was, and we would have a chance to say ‘goodbye.’
“But all these days have passed, and she has not come back for it. I did not tell you because you would worry about her being out there without her travel bag of sunflower kernels.
“More than that, it looked like she had grabbed it and thrown it down on the ground as if she were angry and resentful and never coming back. It would be awful if you thought she hated you. I did not want you to give up on her and stop loving her, even if she never comes back.”
Emily was still in my arms. It seemed like she had said all that she wanted to say, and so I took her with me to my favorite spot under the camellias. We sat together for a time in the dappled sunlight and shadows.
While I stroked her neck and back, her body relaxed until she felt safe and fully loved. Finally, she looked up at me, knowing she could tell me anything and nothing would ever change between us.
“Did you learn anything, Emily?”
“Yes. I think so. Occasionally, the walls that keep us in and separated from the world are actually walls that we make for ourselves. I should have told you what happened sooner.”
“Please don’t worry about it any longer, Emily. I might have done the same thing you did. You weren’t trying to hurt Amelia or me. You just had a moment when you thought you could do something that would let you see your dearest friend one more time. When someone we love goes away, there is nothing worse than not being able to tell them what we want to tell them before they leave.
“They know we love them. But somehow we just need to say it one more time. It’s difficult to explain, but that’s just the way it is. That’s simply the way we are because we have hearts that love. Can we examine Amelia’s travel bag together?”
“Yes, okay. Although I don’t really want to. I will because you asked me to.”
“I know. It’s a reminder that she isn’t here. It’s a reminder of wanting to tell her ‘goodbye’ and not being able to, but we may find out more about what happened when she left.”
“What do you mean?” said Emily. “I am sure it happened just as I said.”
“No one actually saw what happened when she left that morning. I remember watching her as she practiced the maneuver she would need to do in midair to successfully snag her travel bag with her head as she flew out of the doorway. Amelia is a precision flyer. She intended to take it with her, but she didn’t.”
We intensely examined Amelia’s travel bag together for even the slightest clue.
“Do you see how the yarn is broken here? There is almost no fraying. There would be fraying if it were just old and worn out.”
“Yes, it looks like it has been cut in several places with tiny little scissors. How did I miss that before? And look. The bottom corner where the sunflower seeds are coming out is done the same way.”
Emily and I looked at each other. “A field mouse!” we said with sureness.
“It looks like a field mouse had been working on getting to the sunflower seeds. When Amelia tried to snag her travel bag on her way out, the cord broke and the bottom gave out as it landed on the ground,” I suggested.
“So she wasn’t angry and resentful?” asked Emily with relief in her voice.
“No, I doubt that she was at all. She may have been embarrassed that it didn’t work out as she had planned and practiced for. But I don’t think she threw her travel bag down to the ground to say she hated us and wanted to be free from us.”
“I was worried about nothing?”
“Maybe so. But tell me, Emily. Was there anything else on the ground?”
“No. Just the bag and the seeds.”
“There weren’t any scraps of paper with pictures and writing on them?
“No. Should there have been?”
“Yes. Emily, do you know what this means?”
Emily shook her head.
“That is the best news. It means that in her heart, she knows she will want to come back home to us. The scraps of paper with pictures and words were to help her.
“She must have returned long enough to scoop them up off the ground and take them with her. Even if she won’t admit it to herself yet, this is her home. What you saved from the field mice has been an important clue. But without the travel bag to protect the old paper from rain and mishaps, it means we have to make sure she can find her way back home. It means we have to be ready. We just need a good plan.”
“Can we start now?”
“Absolutely. We don’t know for sure whether she took the little book with her or not. It may have been there on the ground and then blown away by the wind because you didn’t know what it was. Either way, whether she has the book with her or not, we have to prepare a plan to help her find her way back to us. Agreed?”
“Absolutely!”
And so, with the help of Gracie and two talented hummingbirds, Emily and I set out to make our strongest plan for helping to guide Amelia back home.
The introduction of the hummingbirds, Knit and Perl, comes from having at one time taught sixth grade when we had other number systems as part of the mathematics curriculum. Our own number system uses base 10 because we have 10 fingers for counting. The number system used by hummingbirds uses base 6 or base 8 depending on whether or not the “Baby Back Toe” is used. For Middle Grade teachers, this may be help students to understand the major concept, at least where chickens are concerned!
The last chapter for this week’s edition was perhaps the most enjoyable to write. It introduces two new characters who are only temporary, merely passing through The Garden at just the right time. We do occasionally get these fascinatingly colorful visitors during their migration season through Virginia.
I thought back to how Emily had asked me if we could plant enough flowers in our garden, and then, whenever Amelia looked down from the moon, she would know which house was ours. I wished the garden worked like that, but everything has its season.
Somehow Emily knew this. “She misses us too, and especially you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because even though we are different kinds of chickens, we are practically like sisters. And I know for a fact that I would miss you. We need a flag.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need a flag, a bright red flag to hang from a pole on the chimney. You can make it from the same red yarn that you used to secure Amelia’s travel bag, then she will recognize it. We need a bright red flag.”
“I'm uncertain whether I understand.”
“She will be able to see the flag from the Moon. She will remember the color from her travel bag. Even if no flowers are blooming, she will be able to tell which house is ours. Then maybe she will realize she misses us too and come home. We need a flag.”
“I see what you mean.”
“This is her home whether she realizes it or not, just as you said.”
“If I make a flag from the red yarn, I will have to learn how to knit.”
“You can learn to knit. We need a flag.”
“You can be quite persistent, Emily. You don’t give up, do you?”
“I may be persistent about wanting a red flag for the chimney, but I am also persistent about the ones I love, too. Love never gives up. I will never give up on finding Amelia.”
And just like that, we started our flag project. Although my Aunt Grace knows how to knit and would have been glad to teach me, I wasn’t certain if my Uncle Buddy would approve. It was not the kind of thing boys in his day did.
He would likely ask countless questions that I didn’t want to answer, or he would tell me what I should be doing instead. He had not been pleased when he had seen the stage I had built with the extra lumber I bought with my earnings at The Millworks Shop. Thankfully, Aunt Grace has been emphatic that since I bought it, I could use it for anything I wanted. He also did not love Amelia the way Emily and I did.
Gracie contacted her friend, The Wren, and the next day two hummingbirds arrived who promised to teach us how to knit.
“You are very fortunate to have caught us at just the right place and time—” said the first hummingbird.
“—In our migration,” said the second.
Since they had no names, I named them Knit and Purl because of how they worked together. One hummingbird made sure that my knit stitch was correct, and the other made sure that my purl stitch was correct. They hovered and inspected everything from all angles.
They taught Emily how to spot my mistakes. Most of those mistakes were made because whenever it was Purl’s turn to direct my knitting. She would say “Purl two” or something similar, and my Pearl would always think she heard her name being called and would come running as if it were time for a treat.
Eventually, Knit and Purl showed the chickens how to count the hummingbird way. It was a most ingenious system based on groups of four and eight.
It reminded me of when I realized Amelia, like all chickens, could only count to six because that is all the toes they could see on their feet. Oddly, chickens know that they have another toe at the back of each foot, but never consider counting them. Meeting the hummingbirds changed all of that.
“Listen to this,” said Emily. “One, Two, Three, and a Baby Back Toe makes Foot.
“Footy-one, Footy-two, Footy-three, and another Baby Back Toe makes Bird.
“Birdy-one, Birdy-two, Birdy-three, and a Baby Back Toe makes Bird y-foot.
“Birdy-foot-one, Birdy-Foot-two, Birdy-Foot-Three, and another Baby Back Toe makes Two Birds.”
“You are a quick learner, Emily. How many knits and purls do we need for each row?”
“Birdy-Bird stitches, and as many rows as needed to be seen from the Moon.”
“That sounds perfect. I do wish we had a way of letting Amelia know about the red flag that we are going to put on the roof,” I said. “It will help her know what to look for when she is ready to come home.”
“So do I,” said Emily. “So do I.”
One last Poll question for our readers. Thanks so much for helping us out!
Several years before I had chickens in my backyard, I took a class in “How To Knit” for beginners and followed up with a lot of YouTube videos. I was able to knit this gray scarf to match my favorite gray “Cricketeer” jacket. With its repetition of hand movements, knitting is very soothing—even if you don’t have helpers with wings.
We appreciate comments, good or not-so-good, those will help make this a great book! We are starting to work on Volume Three which will bring closure to the story of Nate and Gracie and their promises to each other which will be kept on the grandest stage in all of Paris, the stage of the Palais Garnier, the home of The Paris Opera Ballet. That’s where they are all going next!
Until Next Time
Thank you for reading!
John, Gracie, Bessie, Blanche, Pearl, Emily, and Amelia
I envy your ability to make chickens like real people.