The Tale of Two Artists: A Valentine’s Story

     It was midway through the Month of Awakening which meant one thing: Valentine’s Day was approaching. Moony always hated the time around Valentine’s Day because he never had anyone to share it with. Being a Grarrl, people stayed away from him because they assumed he was scary, so he didn’t really make friends very easily. All he’d ever wanted was to eat chocolates and read stories with one friend on Valentine’s Day, but he’d never had that chance.

     Still, seeing that pink Weewoo on the porch of his neohome made Moony’s heart flutter, and he got his hopes up. “What if it’s A Mysterious Valentine’s Card for me?” Moony thought hopefully as he approached his walkway. “No, there’s no way it could be, because I don’t have any friends,” Moony thought sadly. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high.

     When Moony reached the porch, he greeted the Weewoo with a soft coo. “Hello little Weewoo, how are you? Is this letter for me?” The Weewoo dropped the letter at Moony’s feet. Moony set down his groceries and bent to pick up the card. He realized that the envelope was not a standard white, but a soft pink, the same colour as the Weewoo. His heart raced as he flipped it over, and sure enough, the envelope was sealed with a bright red heart sticker. It was A Mysterious Valentine’s Card.

     “Oh, little Weewoo, you must be delivering this to the wrong neohome. There’s no way this is for me.” Moony shoved the card back towards the Weewoo.

     The Weewoo tilted its head to the side and let out a little chirp. Moony tried to stick the envelope back in the Weewoo’s beak, but the Weewoo only ruffled its feathers and chirped louder.

     “Is this card really for me?” Moony asked. The Weewoo chirped excitedly and nodded its head up and down. Moony was elated, but… cautious. He had never received A Mysterious Valentine’s Card before! But who could it possibly be from?

     Moony picked his groceries back up and unlocked his neohome, where he lived alone. He put the card down on the front table and went to the kitchen to put his groceries away. The entire time he did this, his heart was pounding wildly. Who could it be from? Did someone really want to be his friend? Or was it from a mean Neopian who just wanted to play a joke on him? His thoughts raced at all the possibilities.

     By the time Moony finished with the groceries, he had convinced himself that the letter was just a prank. He decided to throw it away without even opening it. He walked back to the front table to get the card, but it was no longer sitting there. What? Then he heard another little chirp, and looked down at his feet.

     The Weewoo had flown in through an open window and was holding the letter yet again in its beak.

     “You just can’t seem to leave, can you little buddy? Are you really sure this card is meant for me?”

     The Weewoo chirped again, much louder this time. It hopped over to the couch and put the letter down on the coffee table. Clearly, she wanted Moony to open and read the letter in front of her. Moony went over to the sofa and sat with the Weewoo, giving it a little pat pat on the head and then picking up the letter. He opened the sticker seal carefully, and began to read.

     A little pink weewoo stopped awhile and she began to chatter,

     I listened and I followed her, my blue heart feet a patter.

     She flitted through the Tyrannian Plateau, dust blossoming all around,

     I considered making a clamour, but reasoned to not make a sound.

     She took me to a hidden cave, with aesthetics beyond belief,

     I gazed awestruck at the secret lair, and exhaled with disbelief.

     The colours formed and twisted round with deep feeling and expression,

     I knew I would not soon forget the heartened, exquisite impression.

     The grotto seemed to come alive, with brush strokes here and there,

     The valiant colours delicately awakened with ability so rare.

     The radiant Tyrannian suns shone through a crack in the hidden venue,

     Immediately I knew, it was then I had to find you.

     I vowed right then and there to find the maestro behind,

     The artwork I’ve come to cherish, and then our friendship bind.

     Long and far I’ve searched, over chasms and rocks of old,

     Hills and valleys I’ve searched in vain, but my yearning would not fold.

     Because I saw something else in the breathtaking hues, yes, something caught my eye.

     I saw a sadness there, and vowed not to let it pass me by.

     The forlorn weewoo gazed at me with a small mourning glisten,

     Without delay I swept the bird up and her name I did christen.

     I called her Amica, because I determined that we would call each other friend,

     Because I too felt the loneliness, and my affection I would lend.

     So now my dear Grarrl, I’ve sought you long and far, to ask you this one question,

     Would you be my friendly valentine? Our paths have been destined.

     As Moony finished reading the poem, a wet tear fell on the card. A tear? Moony reached his little arm up to touch his face. He didn’t even realize he had started crying.

     His cave artwork. Memories flashed before him as he remembered his days as a young lad, sneaking away during lunchtime at school to his favourite cave in Tyrannia. Moony never had friends growing up either, so he dedicated his lunch hours to perfecting his craft. On the weekends, he’d tell his parents that he was going to hang out with friends, but he never did—he went to paint in his cave instead. Moony used to be a phenomenal painter, but he had given that up a long time ago because he was too shy to show his work to anyone. He was too afraid people would make fun of it.

     But now. Someone had seen his artwork, and found him because of it! And he might have a new friend! Moony realized he didn’t catch his new friend’s name. He picked the Mysterious Valentine’s Card up once more to look for a signature.

     There wasn’t one.

     What? How was he supposed to get in touch with his new friend now? Moony’s heart fell as he came to the conclusion that maybe this offer of friendship was too good to be true.

     He started to crumple up the card and reached to put it in his mouth. A Grarrl could eat anything, after all. And Moony was STARVING.

     Before Moony could eat the letter, the pink Weewoo flew up to his little hand and started pecking at it and whistling loudly.

     “Oh hey, little Weewoo. I forgot about you!” Moony put the card down. “Is this poem fake, Weewoo? Is it a prank?”

     The Weewoo whistled in a low tone.

     “Wait… so it’s real?” The Weewoo sang high, and if Moony didn’t know better, he’d think she had a smile on her face. “Little one, is your name Amica?”

     At this, the Weewoo sang the sweetest melody. So the letter was real, and Amica was telling the truth.

     “If I write a letter in response, Amica, can you deliver it to whoever sent this letter?” The Weewoo sang another tune. “Ok, great. Let’s get to writing.” Moony pulled out his stationary, which was dusty from lack of use. He picked up the pen and started writing:

     Dear Mysterious Valentine,

     I am no poet, so I will write you simple prose. I was surprised to find your letter and little Amica waiting for me on my front porch this afternoon. Reading your card brought me great joy. I spent many days during my youth painting that cave. You happening upon it brought me back to memories as my days as a baby Grarrl, sneaking off during school lunch or on the weekends to paint and paint. I used to get lost in my art, and now I just feel… lost.

     I gave up painting and art so long ago because I was afraid to show other people my work. But you have happened upon it, whether by chance or by destiny, I do not know. You found my name signed on the cavern walls. And you reached out. That took courage, sending your letter. And for that, I thank you.

     I will admit, though, that I am sceptical about your proposition to be friendly Valentines. I’ve never had a friend, and you didn’t sign your card. Why didn’t you sign it? Please explain. I would love to be your friend, if this offer is genuine. Perhaps we could meet in my secret cave, at 2 pm NST on Valentine’s Day? I will bring some chocolates for us to share.

     Please write back, and let me know if this meeting will work for you.

     In friendship,

     Moony

     Moony sealed up his letter and put it in the envelope. Okay Amica, it’s your time to shine. Can you deliver this letter to my mysterious valentine?

     Amica sang a song of agreement, took the letter, and flew on her merry way.

     ~~~

     Bob Billy Joe was just finishing up his latest writing for the poetry competition when he heard the haunting and distinct melody of the Weewoo making its way through the air at dusk. He sprung up onto his bouncy tail nervously. It had been years of sleuthing and so many false alarms… so many let downs. The excitable Blumaroo stretched his muscles a bit and paced around his latest watercolour painting he’d been practising, just hoping to hear good news. After the long journey, the weewoo skidded to a halt on the window sill, a bit dazed at the rough landing. After a confused moment, the weewoo gave the blumaroo a dirty white envelope with a rough scrawl, it read:

     Heya there Mr. Bob Billy Joe,

      I’m awfully sorry but cha’ got the wrong neopet. I’m just a lowly Kacheek potato farmer and the only art I possess is growin’ me ole potatoes! Hope ye find yer friend soon.

     The blumaroo deeply sighed. Bob Billy Joe had high hopes of finally uniting with the amazing artist after his Tyrannian travels, but his hope was waning. Would he ever be successful? Well, at least the potato farmer had reminded him of his chores in the garden. He had promised the Shoyru from the Coffee Cave that this year’s coffee plants would be outstanding. He went to go check the berries. Bob Billy Joe started weeding the garden and with paws deep in Roo Island mud, the blumaroo found something he didn’t expect to see in the garden. An artistic and carefully drawn envelope with a neat scrawl, sitting right under the window. It was curiously stuck in a coffee plant, red berries gleaming all around. After a confused pause, the Blumaroo realized that the letter must have fallen with Amica’s rough landing. With bated breath, he slowly read the note, taking in each word in disbelief.

     He could hardly contain his joy as he re-read the letter four times. He even woke the sleeping Weewoo up to read it to her again. With an annoyed but peaceful look, Amica tweeted sweetly and closed her eyes again. Bob Billy Joe put pen to paper and wrote,

     I can’t believe we finally can meet!

     You bring chocolates, that is just too sweet.

     Freshly grown coffee to bring I will,

     I wish you nothing but goodwill.

     I’d like to learn more about your interests and life,

     What makes you happy, what causes you strife,

     I’ll drop the pretences, so you stop to wonder,

     Not leaving my name was a bit of a blunder.

     Hello dear Moony!

     Apologies, sometimes I hide behind my poetry. I think that sometimes I’m afraid to say that I am lonely and need a friend, and admitting that in writing and signing my name is a lot for a Faerie Blumaroo like me. I am sorry that you feel lost, I feel a little lost myself. As a Roo Islander, I am supposed to be a bouncy, happy creature with nought a care in the world, but we all need a friend sometimes. I do enjoy coffee growing and watercolour painting (though my painting pales in comparison to your beautiful cave glyphs), but there is only so much plant talking I can do until I get some weird stares.

     How did you learn to paint like you did? Your artwork in the cave is fantastical; I’ve never seen anything like it in all of Neopia. I hope one day you will paint again. Please tell me all about it when we meet—2pm NST on Valentine’s Day, at your cave.

     So, you will be my friend? Right? We can be friends?

     Your (probably) friend,

     Bob Billy Joe

     Unsure and a little nervously, Bob Billy Joe tucked the carefully-reviewed letter under Amica’s perch for her voyage the next day. His dreams were full of worst case scenarios and rejection, and by the time he woke up the next morning, the Blumaroo had decided to rewrite the letter, fearing that pouring out his thoughts to his new friend might be a bad way to start the friendship. What if Moony thought he was strange? What if he didn’t write back? What if he DID?! Just as Bob Billy Joe went to snatch the letter, he realized the neohome was very quiet—there was no chirping. Amica had taken an early start to the morning, and was already miles away, letter safely tucked in her beak. Bob Billy Joe closed his eyes in dread. Did he just ruin his new friendship?!

     ~~~

     Moony had been anxiously awaiting Amica’s return all morning. He had sent the pink Weewoo off the previous evening when the sun was setting, so he didn’t expect her to return until at least mid-afternoon. But still, he hoped she would come earlier.

     And, she did. She arrived at precisely 11:23am NST with another letter in her beak. Moony read it and he was thrilled. Finally, a friend who understood him! Who appreciated his art! Moony’s heart soared with hope and excitement to meet his new friend. He couldn’t wait to ask Bob Billy Joe why he had three first names.

     He had promised to bring the chocolates but that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to bring his new friend. Moony rushed to his basement and rummaged through boxes, stopping when he found one that hadn’t been touched in many many years: his box of paints.

     ~~~

     The 14th day of the Month of Awakening was finally here, and Bob Billy Joe was nervous. He could hardly eat breakfast, let alone lunch! His journey from Roo Island to Tyrannia would take about two hours, so in addition to the coffee, he also packed a modest lunch of sandwiches, one for himself and one for his (hopefully) new friend.

     Moony had responded with a very brief note after Bob Billy Joe’s most recent letter. All it said was

     See you then. —M

     Bob Billy Joe has hoped that was a good sign. He took both letters he had received from Moony with him in his basket with the sandwiches and the coffee beans, along with his poetry journal and watercolour paint pad, and he set off his journey to Tyrannia.

     ~~~

     Moony had arrived about 10 minutes early, and had beaten Bob Billy Joe to the cave. He brought with him the chocolates as promised, his paint supplies, and a large canvas painting he’d spent every free hour on this week. He was so glad that Bob Billy Joe has mentioned he was a Faerie Blumaroo in his most recent letter. He hoped his new friend would like it as he rested the painting against the cave opening. And then he sat down on a rock to wait.

     ~~~

     Bob Billy Joe approached the cave eagerly. He was so excited to meet his new friend! But then he saw something new—a piece of artwork that hadn’t been there before. Could it be? It was a picture of a Yellow Grarrl and a Faerie Blumaroo together, standing in a cavern. The Grarrl was painting on the walls while the Blumaroo was reading aloud the latest poem he had written. It was Bob Billy Joe’s turn to have a tear in his eye.

     “Bob Billy Joe?” a voice from inside the cave asked.

     A Yellow Grarrl appeared from the cavern entrance as Bob Billy Joe nodded his head.

     “I see you noticed my canvas. Your letter inspired me to paint again! I wanted to thank you for reminding me why I started painting in the first place. It’s a gift for you.”

     Bob Billy Joe was speechless. He didn’t know what to say… in moments like this, he turned to his own creative expression: poetry. And he had prepared just the verse. He reached into his basket for his poetry journal, flipped to the last page, and began to read.

     The winds of change have come, and come for good have they,

     The doldrums of the past have gone, the gust took them away.

     Not to say they won’t return, I know they probably will,

     But it’s different now, your friendship here in my life instill.

     Knowing that you’re there to help lend an ear,

     Helps me feel more confident, which fills me up with cheer.

     Valentine, oh valentine, thanks for being my friend,

     I’m excited to share the ups and downs until the very end.

     The Grarrl was touched by his friend's poem, and immediately went over to hug his new friend. “That was lovely! I am so happy to have found a friend who understands me.”

     “Thank you, Moony. I am so happy too. Now, want to share sandwiches and chocolates, and tell me all about your cave paintings?” the Blumaroo asked.

     “You read my mind!” Moony agreed. “But first, how about you tell me the story behind your three different names?”

     The two new friends walked into the cave happily, ready to share life stories and, most importantly, their art.

      The End.