ATLAS OF YOUR HEART

The old theatre was beneath the amber tree leaves, huddled under constant hues of gold and honey browns. Bystanders, tourists, and anyone outside of Witherbrook didn't know the significance of the old theatre. You see, in Witherbrook, the old theatre was built as an old apothecary before the settlers turned it into a meeting house, and eventually, it became the oldest theatre in Massachusetts today. Mrs. Errans, who ran the foster home, would always tell stories of how, back in the day, the old theatre was a place of real magic. Magic didn't come from potions or prayers in this town but from belief in the impossible and fearlessness. In that dusty old theatre, an unforgettable friendship bloomed between two souls, unlikely companions but rare as the sun showing through the clouds in Autumn- Milo and Nico. It took a few days to meet inside the corridor to the theatre wing to forge a friendship woven byconstellation wishes and music.

Milo was as mysterious as the keys he played on the old piano up the stage. He was a talkative, vibrant spirit with a head of colorful pink hues between each brown curl ringlet. His eyes sparkled with dazzling mischief, and he held his secrets within them, things Nico would soon find as variables she could solve or leave unsolved. On the flip side of this card was Nico, who was quiet and aware, with her brown ringlets ever cascading in front of her face, hiding the truth in her eyes as well.

The two were night and day, yet could never separate for more than a few hours before they'd sneak back to the old theatre and create songs together or wait until dark, where the roof in the ceiling was broken in one spot just enough to show the starry night sky.

That night, as they played looking up, Nico wanted to know more about Milo, and she decided she would ask him.

"What are you thinking right now, Milo"? Nico didn't look at him as she asked the question, too afraid he'd look straight into her soul.

Milo didn't even think for a minute before he gave her a swift reply.

“How on earth are there so many roads up there connected by invisible lines? And even more than that, how are those lines so much easier for us to see than the lines we have linked to each other? In retrospect, we all follow some invisible line, yet……we act like they aren't straight or even visible".

"Well..how could anyone see an invisible line"? Nico spoke gently, not wanting to show the confusion in her voice.

"Simple, you find a road you want to go down and simply travel it. Lines aren't supposed to be straight; you know this isn't a mathematical equation. Lines have bumps and curves; they can go up and down".

For a moment, Nico lay still, looking up to the stars she knew were constellations, connecting the dots in her head. Lines aren't supposed to be straight. She thought so hard about this comment. Nico came from Mrs. Errans's foster home; she learned to follow the straight line and never stray from her path because of the possibility of her line going down.

Nico thought before she spoke her reply to Milo.

"I think that makes a lot of sense. Constellations aren't technically made up of straight lines either; they connect in what looks like a straight line because of an illustration someone's drawn up".

"Exactly my point. If you open an atlas, all we see are these great maps of well-drawnout lines and curves, creating perfect spheres and so-called roadmaps". Milo shakes his head as they lay on the dusty floor." Honestly, sometimes I wonder how anyone can get anywhere walking these straight lines."

As he says the words, Nico's mind begins to wander. Not wander in the sense that she feels lost by his words, but wander as in she wants to welcome in the unknown so she can travel down one of these turning and winding roads.

"Well…then we should all make Atlas' for ourselves and fill them with new lines. You know, lines that bend and don't form perfect mathematical angles. Like…like an atlas of the heart", she says as she smiles at Milo.

"An atlas of the heart, huh"?

"Sure, I mean the heart itself is winding tunnels and crooked veins that all combine to make something functional, you know, something. Something beautiful".

Milo lay next to Nico, astonished yet not saying it aloud; he had never been so intrigued by someone. He and Nico were strangers meeting by chance at this old dusty building of rumored possibility. Yet, as soon as she spoke about the heart, Milo stroked the keys on the old piano.

He started playing the smallest melody entwined with d and a minor. As Milo continued to play, the melody rose like a deep breath in and swelled like a deep breath out. Nico didn't know why, but the melody gave her a sense of peace. She had only ever known the raucous of the foster home down the street, the rainy autumns beneath Witherbrook's trees, and the hustle and bustle of the high school she attended. As her mind expanded with every note Milo played at the piano, Nico thought of new adventures she could have if she left behind her straight line like Milo said and ventured in a different direction.

In just under an hour, Milo had created a beautiful new song. As much as Nico wanted to stay in their small corner of the world and continue to match constellations to their lines, she knew she'd have to return to the foster home before the sun rose. As she and Nico rose and walked towards the wing where they knew the broken door was for entrance, she turned to Milo.

"Thank you".

"For what"?

Nico looked straight at him with a small smile.

"For showing me a new way to map constellations in my life."

Milo smiled, and they walked out of the old theatre and onto the street, where they knew they'd have to go opposite ways. Before they started their lines back home, Nico turned to Milo, ready to ask him something she wanted to.

“Milo, wait”!

Milo stopped in his tracks.

"Yeah"?

"I was….I was wondering…"

"Okay"?

"Since we were talking about making an Atlas of hearts….what would the atlas of your heart look like"?

Milo smiled at Nico, and as he started to walk backward down his street, he told her.

"You've just heard it," he smiles again as Nico smiles back at him, "the atlas of my heart. I've just laid it out for you".

Morada Rivera is a mixed Puerto-Rican, and Cameron-American author and librettist, actively developing a musical that echoes the themes of RENT, La Boheme, and Hell's Kitchen. Among her love for music, she writes short stories and animated novels. Residing in the melodies of a new song, you’ll always find her humming a new idea and rhyming words out loud.