Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 6

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 scroll to the bottom of the blog post and click on OLDER POSTS.

 

By the end of the week, Kookie had plucked most of the feathers from his breast. He hadn't eaten any birdseed. He refused the grapes and pieces of fruit that Skye offered him. He rarely spoke except to wail, "Helen? Helen! Kookie loves you!"

 

"I can't stand this." I stared at the perch and the listless creature. "That bird is dying before our eyes. It's tearing my heart out. I feel like I'm letting Helen down and killing her best friend."

 

Skye wiped her eyes. "I know. Getting him was so exciting for me, but now I'm thinking, 'Be careful what you wish for,' because I sure didn't wish to see an animal suffer."

 

The front door opened and Pete Harris stuck his head in. His right hand carried a black leather bag like old-time doctors owned in Westerns.  "Uh, MJ called. Said I needed to make a house call."

 

From the back of the store MJ sashayed out, wearing a seductive grin that made both Skye and me blush. Behind her came Honora, wearing a look of anxious curiosity. 

 

"Thanks for dropping by." MJ planted a peck on the man's cheek. "Here's your patient."

 

Pete turned in the direction of her finger. "Wow. That is...was...a magnificent blue-eyed cockatoo. What on earth have you done to it?"

 

Everyone started talking at once, explaining how Kookie came to be a feathered fixture in our store. While we jabbered like fools, Pete walked over to examine the bird more carefully. "This is Helen Berger's bird, isn't it? Gosh. What a mess."

 

After that we shut up. Pete pulled a few wicked looking instruments out of his black bag.  Peering at Kookie from all angles, he asked, "Is the bird eating? Drinking water?"

 

"N-no," sniffled Skye. "What am I doing wrong?"

 

Pete's smile was kind, as he tucked a stethoscope into the bag. Even though he was balding, he was a nice looking man with soft gray eyes. His clothes looked as if war had been declared in his closet, but that was easily forgiven when you watched how gentle he was with animals. He'd set Jack's leg for me, after the dog's previous owner had chucked him out of a moving truck. Now my pup came and sat down beside Pete's loafers. Jack knew there was a problem. He raised a tiny white paw to tap Pete's ankle as though he were begging the vet to help the bird.

 

"You aren't doing anything wrong. Kookie is mourning. To put it bluntly, this bird has a death wish. He's been separated from the one creature he's loved most in his life."

 

"Isn't there anything we can do?" I felt sick.

 

"No. Oh, I suppose you could take him down to the zoo in West Palm and see if they have a sick room where they can hook him up to liquids. But that's a temporary fix. Kookie would rather be dead. So the minute you brought him back here, he'd do this all over again."

 

That made me angry. I was NOT going to let that bird die. Not on my watch. "Then we have to find a way to reunite Kookie and Helen. That's all there is to it."

 

~ To Be Continued ~

Okay, kids! Show me some love! If you are liking this serialized short story, go to my Facebook page and hit "Like" the little blue thumb in a tiny white box under the big picture of me. (My toes point to the right. There are three boxes. "Like" is the second box.) Or tell a friend about the Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery Series. Here are the links:  Tear Down and Die  http://tinyurl.com/TearDD and Kicked to the Curb http://tinyurl.com/KickedTTCurb

Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 4

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, and 3 scroll to the bottom of the blog post and click on OLDER POST.

Carrying the cage was awkward, but MJ and I managed. By the time we got it situated in the store, near the big display window, Honora had discovered her friend. She and Helen chatted amiably while Kookie looked on.

Next we hauled in the large perch. It looked like wrought iron and felt just as heavy. Admittedly, it was beautiful with a sculpted border on the stand and rich wooden arms. While MJ positioned it, I went back to the Cadillac and grabbed a large bag filled with bird food, treats, and vitamins. After carrying all those accoutrements in, I watched as Helen walked over and encouraged Kookie to step onto one of the arms of the perch. For the first time, I could see that Kookie was actually wearing a harness that clipped to a leash. Since the bird was snowy white, and the harness was too, you really couldn't tell that Kookie was restrained. Helen snapped the leash to the perch.

"Now, dear friend, it's time for us to part," said Helen, stroking the bird's breast. "I love you. I will love you until I go to my grave, and we'll never be parted in spirit. If I could take you with me to the assisted living facility, I would, dear Kookie. Give me one last kiss."

The bird had been watching her curiously, his head tilted as he regarded Helen. At the word "kiss," he leaned toward her and extended his beak to touch her lips lightly. With an almost human sigh, he said, "Helen, Kookie loves you."

A tear dribbled down Helen's face, leaving a wet mark where it journeyed over her skin. "And I love you, Kookie."

Without another word, she turned quickly, in an about-face movement, and walked out of the store.

Despite how I feel about birds, a lump had formed in my throat. Grabbing a tissue from the cash station, I dabbed my eyes. Honora followed suite. MJ swallowed repeatedly.

"I feel so bad for Helen," I managed.

Honora nodded. "She lost Jeb twenty years ago. That's when she adopted Kookie. I thought I'd never see her smile again after her husband died. They were devoted to each other. But she and Kookie formed a bond that's obviously kept Helen going."

Pausing to wipe her eyes, Honora added, "She's been hoping not to go to the assisted living facility, but she needs more and more skilled nursing care, and they have a room that's open. It's that new place not far from Cove Road. If Helen takes residence now, she won't have to move when the...when she...when hospice is called in. She has no family, so it's for the best, really."

Since my own mother died of cancer, I understood what Honora meant. Most likely Helen's last weeks would be grueling. She would need heavy-duty painkillers and around the clock care.

"Is it nice?" asked MJ in a quiet voice. "That facility?"

"I drove past it," said Honora. "I would describe it as bleak. The original developers went bankrupt halfway through the building process. A new company bought it, finished the work, and opened it, but the takeover was costly. There's no landscaping."

"I remember." MJ sighed. "It was supposed to be a state-of-the-art building. A real showplace."

"Yes. Now it's functional, or so I've been told." Honora's hand trembled as she wadded up the tissue. "Growing old in America is a real nightmare."

~ To Be Continued ~

Okay, kids! Show me some love! If you are liking this serialized short story, go to my Facebook page and hit "Like" the little blue thumb in a tiny white box under the big picture of me. (My toes point to the right. There are three boxes. "Like" is the second box.) Or tell a friend about the Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery Series. Here are the links:  Tear Down and Die  http://tinyurl.com/TearDD and Kicked to the Curb http://tinyurl.com/KickedTTCurb

Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 1

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the first installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. Enjoy!

Summer was coming to Florida. Daylight now extended nearly to my bedtime. The sea grapes had blossomed, scattering tiny white flowers across the grass. Snowbirds, our visitors from the northern states who flee to the South to escape bad weather, had all gone home. With them went their wallets, forcing me to be more and more creative as I tried to think up ways to keep the cash register at The Treasure Chest ringing. Every day, I spent time on Pinterest and Etsy, hoping to conjure up new ideas for turning trash into treasure.

"Cara, dear? Do you have a minute?" Honora tapped me in the shoulder, forcing me to tear myself away from a Pinterest board featuring cool ideas for Cinco de Mayo.

"Of course," I said, pushing back from my desk. "What's up?"

Honora adjusted her glasses and patted the gray bun of hair resting on her collar. Even though the days had grown warmer, she still dressed formally, favoring seersucker shirtwaist dresses with narrow white patent leather belts. "I have a favor to ask. Rather a large one, I'm afraid."

All sorts of ideas flitted through my mind. Did she need to borrow money? Did her daughter EveLynn need a reference for her soft goods business? Did Honora need a few days vacation? However, my father taught me it's better to stay silent than to plunge ahead and stir up trouble.

So I waited.

Honora slipped into the chair facing my workspace. "I have a friend. A very, very dear old friend. Her name is Helen Berger.  Like me, she's facing the twilight of her life. But sadly, her health is also declining. Recently Helen was diagnosed with inoperable cancer."

I swallowed hard. My own mother had died of breast cancer. The months after the diagnosis had been grim, and the last weeks of her life had been ghastly. "I'm so sorry."

"Yes, well..." Honora reached into her pocket and withdrew a linen handkerchief. Slowly, she rubbed her glasses' lenses clean. "She's moving from her apartment into assisted living. A prelude to hospice, really."

I bit my lip rather than charge ahead. Probably Honora was going to ask if I'd buy up Helen's worldly goods. After all, that's how our shop got started. The old owner, Essie Feldman, bought goods from estate sales. I might be interested, but only if the price and merchandise was right. My mind bounced figures around, thinking of what I could budget, when Honora interrupted with...

"And she has a pet that needs a home."

"A pet?" This wasn't at all what I expected, but it wasn't as unusual as I'd predicted. My friend and co-worker Skye had been teasing me that I was running an animal shelter as well as a haven for misfits and second-hand junk. I didn't mind her jokes. Jack, my rescue Chihuahua is my constant companion, often sitting in my lap while I work at the computer. Luna, the gray cat who was given to me when her owner died, likes to sit in our display window and sun herself. She's pretty aloof except at night when she curls up in the crook behind my knees.

"Yes. A bird. A cockatoo."

I frowned, because I'm not really a bird person. In fact, they sort of terrify me.

 

~ To Be Continued Tomorrow ~