From the seat in his room he looked through the window and watched the town. He observed the people and their complicated lives. He didn't want a complicated life like everyone else. He didn't want the job his mother was telling him to get at the Winesburg Eagle. He didn't want to do all of the schoolwork that was given to him. He was very bright but did not see the happiness in school or in the life everyone lived. Happiness. That is all he desired. “Those people out there aren't happy,” he told himself. “Their happiness has been taken away.” He was absorbed with the idea of happiness. He noticed the unhappiness of the town and the despondence that thrived. This prompted him to write something he called “The Book of Grandeur”. Inside he wrote the names of the townspeople and what had made them happy. Next to Wing Biddlebaum he wrote “Teaching”. For George Willard he wrote “Love and Writing” and for Jesse Bentley he wrote “Success”. He never wrote anything by his own name.
One morning, as he looked outside through his window, a yellow bird landed on his windowsill. He knew a lot about animals, but he did not recognize the bird. “Winesburg isn't the natural dwelling for this bird, so why is it here?” He thought. He walked towards his window to examine the bird, but it flew away into the forest near Waterworks Pond. That was his favorite place to visit. He thought perhaps the bird was telling him to go there.
His room was small, but he did not complain. Clothes and books were scattered across the ground. Because it annoyed him, he always kept the light off. For hours he would sit in there either writing or reflecting on life. He often wrote poetry, but never shared it with the world. There wasn't much to his life, and he knew this. He tried to keep life simple, but something was missing, something he wasn't aware of yet. Even though the door was broken and always left open, no one ever entered his room.
When he was bored, he would go for long walks outside. Outside of his room is where he felt alive. The feeling of wind against his body, the feeling of the green grass upon his feet, and everything nature could possibly create made him feel alive. None of this was in his room.
While everyone stayed inside doing their work, he wandered through the forest. He was deep in thought. “Why don’t people search for their happiness? When they do, why do they suppress themselves in the process? All Jesse Bentley wanted was success, but he never saw the happiness in the success he already had. George Willard, my friend, desires love but looks in the wrong places. You cannot find happiness in something forced.”
He quickly climbed a tree and lied down on a thick branch. From there he could see the entire forest. Below him water flowed through the river with the sun’s light dancing upon its surface. Ducks below searched for their food. He turned his head to watch them. “Their lives are so simple. Nothing to worry about. No complications to enter their lives.” On his other side he heard a rustling in the bushes below him. He watched closely and a deer emerged. It was a beautiful deer, majestic with every movement. The deer looked above and it noticed its watcher. They peered into each others eyes. Time froze. A connection between nature and man transpired. All thoughts vanished for a moment. A cool summer breeze swept across the forest.
The deer, noticing the rest of its herd, slowly walked away. He, still sitting in the tree, was in awe. For a moment, everything came to a halt. Nothing mattered. Nothing ailed the mind. Everything became so… simple.
After some time passed and the sun began to lower, he looked over the treetops and saw a woman walking on the sidewalk near the pond. He wasn't sure what, but something inside of him compelled him to speak to her. Quickly he climbed down the tree. He knew the quickest way out of the forest, and soon he arrived at the pond. He saw her reading a book under the shade of a tree. He continued to walk towards her as the unknown force compelled him. Once he reached the shade of the tree, he asked her “What are you reading?”
She slowly glanced over and said “I don’t know. Some book for school. I don’t want to read it.”
“I wouldn't either. I wish we weren't told what to do all of our lives.”
“Me too. But that seems to be all life is,” She sighed.
“Sometimes I would just like to forget everything and focus on what makes me happy.”
“Sit down with me,” she said. “What makes you happy?”
In those moments, nothing else existed. Under the shade of the tree they both sat, the whole world focused on that single second. Between them an intangible connection was forged, an unbreakable connection expanding eternally.
“That’s what I have been searching for,” He replied.
“Happiness is all that matters. Once you find it life becomes so much more fulfilled, or at least that’s what I believe would happen.”
“Exactly! Look at this town. None of them are happy. All of them have had their happiness taken away. All of them have lived their life according to some truth and it has destroyed them.”
She thought for a few seconds. “You’re right. So let’s not be like them!”
For hours they sat there talking. They spoke of their dreams and passions. They both were quite similar, and they began to feel the connection. Their conversations wouldn't end.They talked about the simple things in life and of course happiness.
They began to sit closer to each other. She looked towards him and asked “Does our obsession with happiness make us grotesque like everyone else?”
In awe of her question he looked at her. He always had noticed the grotesqueness of others but failed to notice it in himself. Was he grotesque? He pulled out “The Book of Grandeur” and showed it to her.
“Lately on these pages I have been writing what makes everyone happy. The people in this town all have something that pleases them. They lived their life trying to obtain this happiness, but they collapsed. Before that they were beautiful. Everyone has a truth they live by, all of them being special. But if you falsely live according to that truth, you fail. George Willard seeks love but looks for it in the wrong ways. He’ll never find true love. He has failed his own truth. That’s when you become grotesque. Because of this, you and I must not let the search for happiness consume us. Only then will we be truly alive.”
“I like that idea. Why isn't there anything written next to your name?”
“I have not yet found what truly makes me happy. When I do I will write it.”
“Do you think that we can be happy together?”
“I think so,” He lightly laughed and smiled.
Under the now darkened sky, they held hands. In front of them the light of all the stars danced on the pond’s surface. The birds flew over them into the forest to rest for the night. In the the tree they sat under, the yellow bird perched itself on a branch. In wonder they both watched.
“It’s beautiful,” She said.
“Isn't it?” He added while staring at the bird in amazement.
Why was it there? What did it mean? To him that bird meant everything. It led him to a new happiness, one that filled the emptiness in his life. His life now played alongside the beautiful tune the bird sang.
On the cool grass they lied down. For them nature had painted the most perfect scene. The moon oversaw the frame on which all the colors of happiness fell. With this all worry and despair left the minds of the two beautifully painted souls. She turned to her side and looked at him.
“Is it hard?” She asked.
“What?”
“To be yourself?”
He turned over towards her and looked deeply into her eyes. He, for his entire life, had been asking himself the same question. Before he met her, no one bothered to ask him.
“No. No it’s not. Everyone in this town, for some time, was happy. But unfortunately they became obsessed with the search for their happiness. Life no longer became real. They ended up being lonely because they didn't live their lives simply. Once you make life simpler it all becomes easy! With you here today I have realized that. Life has become simple with no obsessions to spoil it. Once someone truly finds the source of their happiness they no longer have to worry. They no longer have to continue their false search. One must take life slowly and embrace the happiness that finds them.”
“I think that’s what we are doing right now.”
“I think you are right,” He said as they both looked at each other.
“I hope you find what makes you happy,” She said.
His hand went into his pocket and took out the small book. Next to his name, which had been blank for his entire life, he wrote “her”.
Above them the yellow bird flew away. Through the town it made its flight, painting a smile on the faces of the townspeople. Winesburg, for that brief moment, stopped. Along with the bird their worries flew away ,and, although it was transient, happiness enlightened the minds of the grotesque. Life had become beautiful. The blemishes of the town’s canvas were now covered by the one simple feeling of happiness.