Parts 1-13 I meant to have two good sized chunks this week that be quick in and outs of the two journeys, but that’s not the way the story is working right now. I swear I’m in charge.
Amadahy had meant for the trip to be one of renewal after the child was born. She had built the canoe with magic and hope and secured it upside down between two trees. When it rained, she sometimes sat underneath it and hummed the song she had made for the child. She hummed that song this morning to keep her focus on the journey ahead. Part of her wanted Hugo by her side, but another part of her knew that she needed to make this journey on her own.
She thought of the one she wanted to speak with. The mountain woman had told her that it was important to take solo journeys throughout life. Amadahy gripped the smooth, brown stone in her left palm. She had gone on two journeys before. Once when she became a woman. And then there was the time.
“Life is lived in the moment.” Mountain woman had smiled and spread her large arms out. “But it is also marked by before and after. An after is rarely chosen, but you do have to choose to walk the path.”
“What if you don’t want to walk the after path?” Amadahy had asked with a wrinkled forehead.
“Sometimes you need to stay.” The mountain woman shrugged. “But there are other times that if you don’t walk the path, you remain at the mercy of both the before and the event that changed you.”
It hadn’t made sense then, and she wasn’t sure if it even made complete sense now. But she did know that once, she had tried to not walk the after path. It had left her in darkness, and the bird within had had to screech to fly again. This time she would not fight the change. She released and lowered the canoe with her magic, and then settled down inside. She ran her fingers along the first carvings she had made, and then took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
The wind blew beneath the canoe and lifted it into the air. The trees rustled and scraped against the canoe, and then there was nothing but cold, still air. Amadahy opened one eye, and then the other. She gripped the sides, leaned forward, and smiled as the canoe sped above the trees.
Her mind went to Mountain woman again. She had come to her off and on throughout her life. Sometimes she came at critical points, and other times she showed up when nothing other than dust was blowing about.
“You will need to take many more journeys with others in your life, but there are some journeys that you have to go on alone.” Her warm hands had reached across the log they sat on each side of and grasped Amadahy’s softer hands of less lines.
“How will I know which journey is which?” Amadahy had asked. She knew the answer even as she asked the question, but she needed somebody older and wiser to confirm her suspicions.
“There is a bird inside each of us.” Mountain woman had stood and stretched. “The bird knows when it’s time to fly with the others, and when it’s time to fly alone. You will have to ask the bird, if it isn’t already squawking at you for what you need.” She had grinned and helped Amadahy stand. “Birds are noisy. You will know unless you are making more noise inside than the bird.”
“It’s quiet inside me.” Amadahy had said softly.
“Is it?” The mountain woman chuckled and waved her over. “Come, let’s talk of what bird flies within you.”
Amadahy thought more of her time with the mountain woman as she flew over the trees. Her hands rested on her belly, and her voice sang the song of loss. After hours of flying, she directed the canoe down to rest on a mountainside. Tonight she would sleep. Tomorrow she would find Mountain woman and ask for guidance. Then she would take the journey.
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