Adventure by Pigeon

Isabella Fernandes-Santinho

Adventure by Pigeon


If I was smarter, I would have known that pigeons are intelligent and therefore, malicious. If I was wiser, I would know not to follow a bird to who knows where. But I’m not. But hey, I finally got that adventure I’ve always been waiting for. 

 

  In my defense, it was a dull day. The Academy for Weirdos, as the locals fondly call it, was out for spring break and I got really bored. My one darling friend, Lily, is in Maine and wasn’t responding to my messages and I wasn’t about to go out and talk to new people. Really, I should have just stayed home wallowing in self-pity, but my parents made me leave the house.

 

 I went to the park near my house to hopefully just sit in the grass and stare at my phone waiting for a message from Lily. After an hour of this disheartening activity, a pigeon came up to me. I’ve never been fond of random animals but this pigeon was cute. I named her Rosemarie and after a few minutes, she started clucking at me and flying away. She saw that I was not following her and turned back. She pecked at my hand until I got up and started following her down the road.

Was this most likely a bad idea on my part? Yes. However, I had nothing better to do and I thought she was just a crazy bird. I followed her for half an hour before I realized that I was thoroughly lost. I looked around for any landmark that I recognized with no luck. While I was trying to orientate myself, Rosemarie disappeared. 

 

I pulled out my phone to call my dad to pick me up (I’m not dumb, I know to call my parents when lost) when I saw from the corner of my eye this kid staring at me. He wasn’t even being discreet about it. He looked straight at me, with a puzzled expression across his face. I crossed the street and walked over to him. 

 

“Hey! What’s up. Why are you staring at me?” 

 

The boy blushed and said, “Ah um… Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You just don’t belong here. Or umm I mean you’re not from around here. I’m Jacob and I go by the pronouns he/him.” 

 

I chuckled and said, “Nice to meet you, Jacob. I’m Naomi, pronouns she/her. And yes, you’re right I am not from around here. It’s a bit of a long story, but all I have to say is I hate pigeons now and I’m kinda lost.”

 

“Pigeons are evil. But I know this part of the city pretty well. If you want, I can show you around, get you back to somewhere familiar.”

 

“Sure. But I’m only trusting you because you look like you can’t open jars without help and I’m really lost.”

He said through a giggle, “I would be hurt by that if you weren’t right.” 

 

We started walking down the street. Every time a car drove by the puddles that had gathered in the gutter from the morning storm, water splattered our legs. (Gross.) The air was as brisk as city air can be cooling down the abnormally warm spring day. 

 

Jacob side-eyed me and said, “If you don’t mind me asking why don’t you call your parents to come pick you up?” 

 

I sighed and kicked the pavement, “Honestly, I could call my dad, but I’ve been looking for an adventure for a while and this seems like one. Life is just so boring you know? I go to school, do homework, do extracurriculars, wash, rinse, repeat. I read all these stories about these kids that go on great adventures, but that never happens in the real world.”

He frowned and replied, “I get it, but the thing is you have to make your boring everyday life an adventure. You can’t wait for the adventure to come to you. You have to make your own adventure. You have to see the little things and then magnify them.”

 

 “Like look at this little bakery here,” he waved his hand towards a cafe across the street, “I go to this bakery every day and help bake. Every day I meet new customers and experiment with new flavors. Some days are more boring than other days, but it’s still an adventure.”

“Huh. That’s actually really wise.”

“Well, I have my moments.”

 

“Do you have any more stories about places around here?”

His eyes lit up and he nodded furiously.

 

I checked my watch. I’d been gone for about 45 minutes. My parents only worried if I was gone for more than two hours. “Can you show me around this magical city of yours? I’ve got a bit of time.” 


For an hour we strolled around the city. Jacob showed me snippets of his life. Little adventures he had exploring the city. The park where he learned how to ride his bike. The little library, hidden between two towering skyscrapers, that apparently had the best sci-fi books and the nicest librarians. The middle school that he had gone to and where he learned multiple curses, the pythagorean theorem, and how to write a proper essay. The apartment building where he lived with his cat, parents, and little sister.

Finally, we made it back to the park I started off at. “Well this is my stop. My house is just down the street,” I said.

 

 We exchanged phone numbers, promised to meet again, and hugged goodbye. “Hey Jacob,” I called as he was walking away, “Don’t stop looking for those adventures.” 

 

He turned around and called back, “And Naomi, try to find your own adventure.” With a smile, we both turned and went our separate ways.

‘Till the next adventure.

The End