Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [20]
He then checked his watch. Just over four minutes left. Normally Martin would use this last bit of time to make a more thorough search for spare keys, looking for hooks inside closets and behind the doors to the basement and garage, searching desk drawers and any bowls and mugs that might be spread decoratively around the house (particularly on fireplace mantels, a most common location for spare keys), and inspecting the insides of the toilet tanks. Martin knew that keys were often hidden outside as well, under flower pots and garden stones, but searching the exterior of the house was something Martin never did for fear of being seen. Even passing in front of an exposed window was something he avoided.
But Martin had come back to the Grants’ house for a specific reason, for Alfredo, and so he chose to spend his last moments with the bird, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do. Descending the steps into the den (Martin had labeled it as such during his first visit), he approached the bird slowly. From his research, he had learned that African grays were extremely social birds and rarely aggressive, but still, he wanted to be careful.
Five steps away, the bird began speaking to Martin, more rapidly than he could have ever expected. “Hey, stupid! What’s your problem? Hey! I’m talking to you! Gimme kiss! Gimme kiss! Kissy kissy!”
Though Martin was armed with his research and excitement over the bird’s ability to communicate, this outburst still managed to startle him and cause his heart to race. He immediately wondered if this were a mistake after all, if he was taking too great a chance.
As doubts began to creep into Martin’s mind, Alfredo began again. “G’day! G’day! G’day mate!” A brief pause, and then again. “G’day! G’day! G’day!” The bird continued this pattern, ruffling its feathers and becoming more agitated with each series of greetings. Martin found himself with an all-consuming urge to respond to the parrot, and was certain that if he did respond, the greetings would stop. But responding was dangerous, because Alfredo seemed capable of repeating anything that he heard. If his owners came home and found that the bird had acquired a new vocabulary word, they would begin to wonder from where the bird’s newfound knowledge had come.
Then it occurred to him.
Although he couldn’t introduce any new vocabulary to the bird, he could certainly respond using words that the bird already knew. And though he also knew that many of these birds can actually mimic the voice of an individual as well, Martin thought that if he spoke in a voice that approximated that of the bird, he would probably be safe. He considered this for a few more moments, looking for potential flaws in his logic and finding none. He would be forced to break his rule of silence while in a client’s home, but found himself surprisingly willing to take the risk. Martin had established the rule in the event that there was ever a recording device running in a client’s home (intentionally or accidentally), and he had adhered to it religiously until the day he’d first spoken to Alfredo. Nothing had come of that indiscretion, and though Martin despised violating any of his rules, his desire to communicate with the bird had become overwhelming. So after considering all his possibilities, Martin responded to the bird’s sixth iteration of “G’day” with his own, slightly squawked “G’day, mate.”
Alfredo immediately calmed at the sound of Martin’s voice, settled back down on his perch, and stared with as much intensity as a bird can muster. Martin quickly removed the pen from his ear and began to make a list adjacent to the sketch of the Grants’ home.
G’day
Mate
Scotch and soda please
Kissy
Gimme kiss
Hey stupid
Martin knew that the bird had said more, but he couldn’t remember the words for sure and it was nearly time to go. With just over a minute left, he took one last look at Alfredo and turned in the direction of the kitchen.
“Hey stupid,