chapter 14

Mouse found a car made all of wood and painted it too and then gave it to Parrot and then Mouse said, "Parrot!  This car is made all of wood with big logs for wheels.  When flying is too high, we can cruise a little lower!"

Mouse and Parrot loaded up the wood trunk with towels and blankets and summer-reads and sunglasses and all together, blankets and all, rolled of toward the beach.

"When you study sleep things," Mouse said, "you have to read sleepy books.  I'm excited for some summer-reads."

"I'm excited for sea salty wispy waves and the sun up high, hot and healing... and some summer-reads too!  Parrot said.

And off they went in the moments before restlessness when schedulessness becomes mantra and smoothies become a way of lunch.

chapter thirteen

And parrot was right. The suits did change.

Seasons churned buttermilky thick and licked at mouse and parrot's heels. Autumn passed in brown beat boots. Winter was a waning whine. Spring sat stagnant- alight with sprigs of bursting.

And now it was summer again. To tumble in summer and hum a bit number was all that our heroes wanted to do.

chapter twelve

Suitors though, have a habit of changing suits. The suits, at first, were well tailored and fit like dreams but slowly the suits would change and seem somewhat outdated, the lapels too pointy, the sleeves too short. Mouse did not know why a particular suit stopped fitting. "It was so well tailored," mouse would squeak. "You just wait, mouse," parrot said. "Your suitor need only grow into the new suit. It will take time. But soon it will fit, not as before, but just as perfectly. After all, does your mouse coat change not change with every season?"

chapter eleven

And somehow, all their luck changed. Fortune had brought the little rodent and tiny bird back together again. But- cruelty: there was still a hill to walk between them. Parrot was sometimes no good at walking on his knobby parrot toes, and mouse was just a little too sweet to trek up a hill at night alone. And so the parrot sang all day long, as other beautiful birds, who could easily walk the hill, marched in and out of his cottage. There were magpies, mallards, manakins, martins, meadowlarks, mockingbirds, motmots, and mynahs. And the mouse had her suitors, too: gray, white, brown, and black. Sometimes there were special birds. And sometimes there were special mice, but the days when our heroes saw each other- well, those were the best days.

chapter ten

Parrot thought over and over how to make a cup of tea that would somehow be felt across countries. Parrot thought of the words of Kakuzo Okakura from 'The Book of Tea,' 'nothing is more hallowing than the union of kindred spirits in art. ' Parrot thought of the Tibetan custom to leave a second cup of tea untouched when a loved one leaves, waiting for his return. Parrot thought and thought and finally, went down to the concierge and asked for a telegram, a short one. Mouse sat over full cups of tea empty of meaning until mouse got a telegram that simply read, 'mouse, i am in each cup of tea with you. Let the steam warm your little mouse nose and remember how it all is exactly what it is.'

chapter nine

The mouse missed the parrot more than ever imaginable. Especially when she would go to dark, beautiful tea houses and not be with dark, beautiful people. The mouse thought that drinking tea was a waste of water unless the parrot was there.


Illustration- By RansomStone, from Etsy

chapter eight

The next morning, mouse awoke early and tiptoed across the small room quietly as, well, a mouse. Mouse explored empty streets to find the perfect little market. She bought flour and fruit and eggs and fresh milk all to prepare (in secret) a grand breakfast fit for a king or a mouse or a parrot. She tiptoed around the kitchen and tried hard not to make noise with the cast-iron pots and pans. Parrot was usually a very light sleeper and woke at quiet wind, but parrot felt safe and comfortable under mouse's watch and slept deep. But nothing could keep those sweet aromas from rising parrot and parrot woke to a feast of all the senses. Sunlight came streaming in through the windows. Food was out on the table. And mouse, mouse was smiling puppy smiles, wearing her feather shawl. The puppy smile was a little nervous, "I made breakfast," mouse said.


Illustration: Camilla Engman

chapter seven

Parrot was lost shouting parrot songs on top of the Eiffel Tower. The Eiffel Tower isn't such a nice place to be when lighting is screaming about. Parrot felt the energy like too-loud-handclaps in parrot ears. All the windows of Paris were closed to him save for one. Mouse had scurried little mouse steps around the city and found a perfect little room to find refuge from the rain and thunder and lighting and fright. Mouse braced mouse feet on the windowsill, holidng a mirror to reflect the shine of lightning. Mouse squeaked loud mouse songs-- and parrot saw the little reflection in the mirror. Parrot summoned up more courage and energy than possible and darted through wind and water, blinded by too-bright-light and pushed by gusts untill finally, parrot flew into mouse's small room. Mouse wrapped parrot in a plush warm towel. "Your mouse song saved me," parrot said. "Your parrot song worried me," mouse said.

chapter six

And the rain fell and fell, until in each street puddle collected a tempest. A storm. A little bit of bad news. And the skies darkened as the wind picked up. Houses were shaken from their foundations, children were tucked into their beds and their windows were closed. The angry breeze preyed upon parrot and mouse. They held on to each other as tightly as they could, with mouse's tail wrapped around a streetlight, and parrot's beak gripping an umbrella stand. But it was no use. Parrot was picked up in the gust and tossed around, thrown about all the way to the eiffel tower.



Illustration: Ward Jenkins

chapter five

Mouse went about her days as mice too often do. She collected things and found beauty where others do not and saw colors and shapes. "Look," she said, pointing at a puddle. The reflection of the puddle was just so that one could see a cloud above them that resembled an ace of spades. "An ace of spades!" said parrot. "But look now," said mouse. The ace of spades had drifted out of sight and one simply saw the blue in the sky and felt the leftover energy of the rain the night before. "Do you like sunny days or rainy days?" asked parrot. "Rainy days are good for some things. Sunny days are good for others. Would you like some chocolate?" They spent the afternoon walking through empty streets and taking small turtle bites out of a chocolate bar. They made eye
their head. Slowly, they made the way back to their flat and watched the rain fall and listened to the snaps of cloudbursts. The chocolate was all gone but the eye contact was not. "It is so warm, next to you," parrot said. They were sitting across the room from one another. "I know."

chapter four

"We can go see the bean" said the mouse. "But I am a little cold. This breezy windy breeze is making my tail stand on end." And then the parrot turned himself around, and plucked the longest, bluest feather from his tail. He wrapped it around the mouse like a little shawl. "There," he said, "now you will be a little warmer. Also, now you look far better suited to go to the opera." "To the opera?" the mouse asked. "Yes, I wanted to surprise you" said parrot. "I bought two tickets for Don Giovanni tonight. Would you like to go?" And then the little mouse began to shed crocodile tears. There was a little Don Giovanni in both of them.

chapter three

Parrot and mouse had many adventures in Chicago. "Chicago is a fine city for adventures," said mouse. "A fine city indeed," replied parrot, "And I like fine cities. But no city, topolina, could ever be as fine without you, not even the streets of Baudelaire or Louis Sullivan." Mouse took the pens and pencils from the knapsack and played "Hawaiian Vacation" on the turntable. It was time to sketch some adventures. "It is always difficult" said mouse. "I want to remember more than just what I draw, but all too often all other memories fade and I am just left with pencil pictures. Perhaps I shouldn't sketch." Mouse began to put the pens and pencils back into the knapsack. Parrot, smiling his most understanding smile, closed the sack (void of pens and pencils). "Topolina. Our memories may fade from mind and thought, but we will always have them in our hearts, on both sides of the heart, the right and the left. Go ahead and sketch some. I should like to see the beans and the buildings through your eyes." Mouse begrudglingly began to sketch and soon her mind wandered through her hands. "Papagallo," mouse said, "Do you remember the name of the cigar box guitarist in the Tyrol?" "No," said parrot, "Do you?" "I sure don't. But I can still feel the strumming in my pinkytoes. The right and the left!"

chapter two

The parrot and the mouse have decided to leave the world behind. They put together all the crumbs they could find and tied them in a burlap hankie. They took the hankie downtown to the wholesale camping shop and traded the crumbs for a surplus army knapsack. In this knapsack, they put their pens and pencils. They also brought chickpeas and romantic records. The parrot carried the sack on his back and the mouse in his beak. "One-two-three!" they counted. And off they flew to Chicago and back. "Oh my, how i love to fly with you," said the parrot. "Thank you for being a friend," said the mouse.

chapter one

Once upon a time, there was a little topolina and her friend, the papagallo. The topolina and papagallo traveled over the same ocean in the same sorts of craft, but when they arrived, their roads forked. The papagallo lived out each day reading Baudelaire and taking long walks and stroking his bird beard thoughtfully, while the topolina drank too much wine and learned about Italian neo-realism. Both were very content and very heartsick-- until one day, they met each other in Switzerland. And the parrot picked up the little mouse in his beak, taking her over the treetops to see a cabaret act at a youth hostel in the Tyrol.