Felicity – A Philosophical Fable [Chapter 7]
Mimi was fascinated. It wasn’t the poem Tripp was reading aloud that fascinated her. It was the book from which he read. As Mimi and Sunny sat eating from their bowls, Tripp regaled them with the poems he had heard the last time he went to the Fair.
He held the book in two hands. It was a large clothbound book. Entirely white. Mimi noticed that there was nothing printed anywhere on the exterior of the book. She noticed because she deliberately looked. She expected something to be there and was puzzled to see nothing.
Tripp held the book open in the middle and never turned the page. He had read a good many poems too. He should have had to turn the page, yet not once did he do so. Mimi was certain, for she was watching.
Sunny sometimes asked questions, but her questions were always about the poets, not the poems. She liked to know who they were and where they came from, how they looked and what they did. Tripp told all he had seen and heard.
All the while Mimi inched closer to Tripp. Boldly and bashfully. She wanted to peer into the book. And when she did see within the book, she saw a single poem, just three short lines on the clean white paper. Tripp read the poem aloud and Mimi’s eyes followed the words on the page.
“Do you like it?” he asked, perceiving her curiosity. She glanced at him and nodded. “Then I’ll read you another.”
Mimi returned her eyes to the book. A different poem was on the page. Tripp read. This time Mimi kept her eyes on the page.
Sunny wanted to know who it was who created such a pleasant poem and Tripp described the poet to her. Still Mimi kept her eyes on the page.
Then Tripp began to read the next poem. And indeed, a new poem was now on the page. Yet Mimi had not looked away, not for a moment. She was so bemused that she nearly asked Tripp to explain.
Perhaps he did divine that her interest lay in the book itself and not the poems, for he closed the book and offered it to her. “You can have it if you like.”
Mimi liked. She turned the book over in her hands, looking at the front, the back, the spine. She opened it and flipped through the pages with her thumb. Not a word. It was blank. She looked at Tripp, then at Sunny.
Sunny pointed to the book. “How charming.”
Mimi held a slender paperback in her hand. How charming indeed. She was delighted. She flipped through the book. It was filled. She showed it to Sunny and Tripp.
Sunny marveled at the illustration on the cover. Especially the colors, the yellow, green, and purple. She found the drawing whimsical, the little boy, his tiny world, the sun and stars. But it was the colors that most appealed to her. She found it peculiar that a poem was inscribed on the drawing. But she liked its green and purple words. She was less pleased with the illustrations within, for they were not in color.
Tripp read the book’s cover aloud, to hear the sound of it. “What is a prince?” he asked. Mimi pointed to the little boy in the illustration. Tripp opened the book in the middle and gazed at two full pages of type. Then he flipped though the pages as Mimi had done. “What a long poem it is.” He handed it back to Mimi.