by Jan Bozarth
“Did you sleep well?” She sat on the edge of the bed and gave me a quizzical look.
“Yes,” I said. “When I wasn’t climbing a giant tree or flying a kite to a cloud kingdom or rescuing the future Queen of Aventurine, I slept great.”
“You went on a quest.” Mom clasped her hands and smiled slowly. Then she frowned. “You rescued the future Queen of Aventurine?”
“Her name is Asa,” I said. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” Mom pulled her legs up and nibbled a sausage while she listened.
I could tell she was busting with pride when I outlined my mission, but she frowned when I explained I had to save the baby from hostile people who tossed intruders off their cloud.
“It’s hard to believe such horrid people live in Aventurine,” Mom said, shaking her head.
“I know, and the mist people aren’t the only ones,” I said. “Hoon hates intruders and makes them walk the plank, and a fallen fairy called Kasandria kept birds locked up so they couldn’t fly.” My mother looked dismayed until I added, “But I learned to fly and freed all the birds, and most of the beings I met were wonderful.”
She loved hearing about the Curipoo and wished she had met Moa.
“He was a hero,” Mom said.
“Yes,” I said. “He saved me and the baby.”
Another flicker of disbelief flashed across Mom’s face.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, Trinity, but”—Mom shrugged and grinned—“it’s just hard to imagine you with a baby. They’re so messy, and you’re so … so …”
“Neat?” I smiled, then gushed just like the queens. “But Asa is so adorable! Maybe not quite as adorable as the Curipoo, but almost. I wouldn’t mind babysitting for her. She likes me.”
Mom frowned again. “What happened to the Ananya talisman? It looks different.”
I unhooked the necklace and put it in Mom’s hand. “Asa touched it. The beads and pendant have gold in them now.”
“That’s powerful magic,” Mom said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” I said, “about magic being real.”
“You do now,” Mom said. “That’s the important thing.”
“But not the only important thing.” I paused, wanting to ask but not certain I wanted an answer. I decided I had to know. “Will I still be able to fly?”
“I assume so, when you go back to Aventurine.” Mom saw the disappointment on my face and gripped my knee. “You’ll fly here, too, Trinity. Just not the same way. I got my wings when I became a pilot.”
I was glad the human world still operated under absolute rules I understood, but that didn’t make the loss of my flying power easier.
“I want wings, too, but—” I wasn’t sure I should say what I was thinking. I was happy to have the Ananya necklace, but there was something else I wanted just for me.
“But?” Mom pressed me. “What do you want, Trinity?”
“I want a bird,” I blurted out.
“Like a pet?” Mom asked.
“Like a friend I can keep in my room,” I said. “A parrot, I think. They talk.”
“I’ll ask your father,” Mom said as she stood up. “But don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”
“Thanks, Mom!” I jumped up and hugged her. “Can I go to the park?”
She looked surprised. “To do what?”
“Climb a tree?” I winced sheepishly, but Mom didn’t make me feel silly for wanting to spend my first day as a teenager being a tomboy. She let me go.
I finished most of my breakfast and then changed into jeans, ankle boots, and a yellow scoop-neck tee. Then I grabbed my cell and raced for the front door.
My father looked up from the newspaper.
I paused, expecting the parental third degree: Where are you going? Who are you going with? When will you be back?
Dad didn’t say anything. He just returned to his reading. Then, as I opened the door, he shouted, “Yes!”
Mom grinned from the sofa, gave me a thumbs-up, and flapped her hands like a bird. I could have my parrot!
I was so happy I practically floated out of the building.
The weather was warm and sunny, and I jogged all the way back to yesterday’s picnic spot. It took no time at all to climb fifteen feet up the oak tree.
I sat in the crook of a branch and watched the people in the meadow. A few were flying kites. Most were playing ball, walking dogs, jogging, or sitting on blankets and benches reading newspapers and books. I had happily people-watched from the solitude of treetops for as long as I could remember, but now it seemed odd to be alone.
I had known Moa’s absence would leave a hole in my life. I just hadn’t realized how much I’d miss him, Sunset, and all the other birds.
Having a parrot wouldn’t be quite the same, but it would help. I started thinking about names.
“Maybe Sunset the Second,” I said out loud.
“What?” a voice asked from below.
I looked down. Parker was staring up with his hand shielding his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Looking for you. I thought you might come back today to fly kites,” Parker said. “What are you doing?”
“People-watching,” I said.
“Want company?” Parker grabbed the lowest branch, but he didn’t start climbing. He waited for my answer.
I liked Parker. He was cute and not an arrogant jerk. Besides, he had come to the park hoping to find me. That was three points in his favor.
Number four was the deciding one. My friends would believe everything that happened to me in Aventurine, but they’d never believe I had spent the afternoon with a boy.
I was glad my phone had a camera.
“Sure, Parker,” I said. “Come on up.”
Learn to Fly
I’m not brave
Aren’t you afraid too?
When the wind blew
I realized
It’s just me and you
And a string
And a hole we just got to get through
In the sky
To learn to fly
It’s not a trip to London, New York, or LA
It’s the love that you pray for
The open door
It’s your rich and your poor
It’s the honesty play
It’s the things that you say you want
Then try
To learn to fly
Come on come on come on
And open your arms wide
Out on the ledge
Up to the edge
Close your eyes tight
Feels like falling
Sky is calling
Earth is moving
Clouds are passing
Come on come on come on
And open your arms wide
Out on the ledge
Up to the edge
Close your eyes tight
It’s the honesty play
Things that you say you want
Then try
Come on come on come on
And open your arms wide
Out on the ledge
Up to the edge
Close your eyes tight
Feels like falling
Sky is calling
Earth is moving
Clouds are passing
By
Come on come on
And learn to fly
Come on come on
And learn to fly
Learning to fly means taking chances and believing in yourself, especially when there is very little evidence that you’ll make it. Many people in my life have helped me in difficult moments—the ones going up and the ones coming down. My father always believed in me, as did my brother and sister. My old friends Rob, LG, Laura, Mo, and Mary; my newer friends Ken and Chris; as well as my three sons, Shane, Evan, and Dustin, have helped me stay the course through every failure and redo. They encouraged me to be an Ananya
Lineage girl, a totally unique individual. Ananya means “unique” in Sanskrit.
If you are “zigging” while everyone around you is “zagging,” consider yourself an Ananya Lineage girl and embrace it. You are probably ahead of your time—a leader and a visionary. Go for it! Find your tribe, those people who will love you for who you really are.
About the Author
Jan Bozarth was raised in an international family in Texas in the sixties, the daughter of a Cuban mother and a Welsh father. She danced in a ballet company at eleven, started a dream journal at thirteen, joined a surf club at sixteen, studied flower essences at eighteen, and went on to study music, art, and poetry in college. As a girl, she dreamed of a life that would weave these different interests together. Her dream came true when she grew up and had a big family and a music and writing career. Jan is now a grandmother and writes stories and songs for young people. She often works with her own grown-up children, who are musicians and artists in Austin, Texas. (Sometimes Jan is even the fairy godmother who encourages them to believe in their dreams!) Jan credits her own mother, Dora, with handing down her wisdom: Dream big and never give up.
Dhara’s Book
Coming soon!
Meet Dhara—she refuses to believe she is an orphan and knows that if she can just find her way to Aventurine, she’ll finally be able to rescue her parents.
