Pretty Bird
written by: Lynn Nicholas
Hanging upside-down on her perch always jogged Mirabella’s memory. She wrapped her talons tighter around the birchwood perch. Memories and whys entwined in her head.
She vaguely remembered Anthony, the advanced wizard in Sedona who handed her over to Edward’s care twenty years ago. Anthony had been in hospice, awaiting passage into the next realm. However, it wasn’t until Anthony actually passed that the connection between her and Edward solidified. It was almost an audible click. Inheritance of a familiar was an accepted practice, and she was fully devoted to her master, Edward.
Edward was still an attractive human after all these years. Elegant and athletic looking at sixty-seven, his face remained unlined, and he boasted an enviable head of dark, silver-streaked hair. He told Mirabella once, after he left his position as a patent-wining research scientist, that he was glad his career was behind him. He laughed his contagious laugh and said that he’d eased into retirement like a catch-and-release fish sliding back into the lake. Mirabella wasn’t completely sure what that meant. She had never seen a fish. But she was happy Edward was home most of the time now.
But, back to her musings. When did she start? Was it a ritual performed by Anthony that had shifted her from a mere parrot to a familiar? She had no memory of her start, of when she became a familiar. Maybe it didn’t matter.
Mirabella flapped her wings and shifted upright. She fluffed her feathers. Too much serious thought for one day. Serious thought made her eyes cross. Time for a dance. “Alexa, play ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’.” Mirabella was proud of her status as a talented familiar, but in her heart her true calling was dance.
She glanced at her reflection in the framed wall mirror as she bobbed and weaved. She was twenty-nine and in her glorious prime. Mirabella raised one desert-sky blue wing, showing off her zinnia-yellow belly.
“Pretty bird. Macaw. Hyacinth Macaw.” Mirabell’s voice was loud and high-pitched, and she made no effort to bring the decibel level down. Macaw was how Edward described her to friends. She loved her talks with Edward, but Mirabella knew she had to hide her intelligence from Ed’s family and friends behind the expected, clownish parrot antics.
Mirabella sidled toward the beautiful, bronze cage Edward bought in an antique store. It was six-feet tall and four feet in diameter, and boasted five, hefty, comfortable perches. Edward never locked the door of the cage. It was a tacit agreement between them. Mirabella stretched out a leg and grasped a bar with a taloned foot, pulling herself inside. She helped herself to some fruit from a corncob hanger and then jumped back out onto her favorite perch. As roomy as her cage was, Mirabella preferred to hang out on her thick, birchwood, free-standing perch, positioned close to the front window. From this vantage point she could assess the comings and goings on the street and greet, if she felt so inclined, anyone coming in the front door.
The musical score from “Bohemian Rhapsody” blasted, and Mirabella bobbed, twisted, and stomped to the beat. From the corner of one pale-yellow eye, she caught a flash of movement outside. “Alexa, stop the music.”
Mirabella tilted her green-tipped head with interest as the front door opened and slammed behind Ed’s son, Ian. He had his own key to his dad’s sprawling ranch-style home, often dropping by after work just to make sure Ed was okay. Ian worried, sometimes out loud, about his aging dad. He threw his briefcase on the couch and stopped at Mirabella’s perch to say hello.
“Hi there, Mirabella. Pretty girl, pretty bird,” Ian said. He reached out and stroked her back. She arched her wings, enjoying his touch.
“Pretty girl. Pretty Mirabella. Pretty girl,” she chanted back at him. Mirabella let out a happy shriek as she bobbed up and down and then held up one foot, bird toes curled under in a salute.
“Hey, Ian,” Ed called out from the den. “You two are making one hell of a racket out there. I’m at my desk reading emails. Stuff a grape in Mirabella’s beak. She’s been carrying on all afternoon. I love her to pieces, but today she’s driving me insane. Been on a loud rock kick again.”
Ian plucked a grape from the bowl on the coffee table and offered it to the bird before pushing open the den’s hanging barndoor.
One grape? Mirabella held it in her talons and tore off bits with her beak. She hopped down and tapped across the coffee table and eyed the bowl. It was a lot more fun to pick up the loose fruits and toss them in the air. She screeched and bobbed up and down after each toss. “Alexa, play ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’.” Mirabella could sense Ian and Ed exchange what-the-hell glances.
Sensing Ed’s thoughts more than hearing his words, Mirabella stilled and cocked her head. One grape dangled from a sharp talon.
“I swear I hear that music in my sleep,” Ed said.
Her master could be such a human sometimes. Mirabella spun, talons lightly scrapping the coffee table’s wood surface. Ed had yet to catch on to her dance fests in the middle of night. Alexa could keep the music low for her, but sometimes Mirabella just needed to feel that beat. When the dancing urge hits, it must be fed.
“I know she can be loud,” Ian said, “but you must admit that Mirabella is a riot. She is the funniest of birds and seems to be darn smart.”
“That she is,” Ed replied. “You just never know what string of words she’ll toss out from what she overhears. Last night it was ‘Edward, pick up your shoes.’ She said it over and over and had my friend Carmen’s voice down pat. God. A nagging parrot.”
“Carmen? So, you are still seeing her?” The inflection in Ian’s voice said it all.
Ed looked up from the computer screen. “I don’t really go out of my way to see her, but she has a habit of stopping by unexpectedly. She can be good company, although….” Ed just shrugged and let his thoughts run out of steam.
Ian literally bit his lip. Dad had a sixth sense about people, but he was blind to this Carmen. The few times Ian met her, his hackles rose. Carmen’s mood could shift direction so subtly, it was like a gentle breeze lapping at your skin, teasing you into closing your eyes for just one minute, only to open them to darkened skies and gathering storm clouds. She never seemed to show this side of herself when Dad was close by. Ian could sense the woman didn’t like him. He changed verbal gears.
Heralded by indignant squawks and cranky mutterings, Mirabella sailed into the room. She couldn’t concentrate on her dance moves when so many thoughts and words were filtering through. She was quite done with being left out of the conversation. Landing on Ed’s shoulder she tried to be gentle as she balanced herself with her talons.
Ian laughed at Mirabella’s unsubtle entry. “Don’t like being left out, do you girl?” he said.
Mirabella rewarded him with her raised talon salute.
“So, Dad, who moved in across the street? The for-sale sign is gone, and I saw a blue Kia parked in the driveway and empty packing boxes by the curb.”
“Oh, yeah. A single woman. I think she said her name was Jeannie. I ran into her yesterday on my morning walk. Attractive. Guessing early fifties maybe. I believe she’s a widow. Not sure.”
What Ed didn’t say but Mirabella knew was that this new neighbor had already been over for a friendly coffee. She also knew Ed hadn’t told Carmen. Mirabella had taken to Jeannie right away, and Jeannie didn’t even mind Mirabella’s probing examination of her thick, curly hair.
“Dad, you’ve always been, well, intuitive, about people. Are you getting any vibes from this new neighbor? Wouldn’t it be great to have someone companionable so close by?”
“Well son, I can say that I picked up some interesting vibes from Jeannie, and even better, she seems to be an animal person. She has a pet, a black cat.”
Mirabella tossed out her two cents. “Pet, PET! Silly word, pretty bird.” She followed through with a tug on Ed’s hair.
Ed gave Mirabella a gentle shove, not fazing her in the least. She watched Ed smile sheepishly at Ian. There was much Ed had yet to share with his son. In his own words, Ed was a simple man. To his friends he was as predictable as Tucson’s 100-degree-plus summer heat. Neighbors thought him to be a charming but quiet man who generally minded his own business, but was available to lend a hand when needed.
Her master kept his private life private. Ed was a practicing pagan. This life-enforcing, largely matriarchal belief system fit with his life view. He used his magic to release positive energy outward into a changing world, and he lived life carefully, believing that the energy you put out comes back to you threefold. The only creature privy to Ed’s solitary rituals was Mirabella, who had a hand in bringing his powers to fruition.
“So, Dad, I hate to bring up your ex-wife but since we’re on the subject of approval, what was it about Mirabella that Lindsey disliked so much? The feeling seemed mutual.”
Mirabella leaned her soft head against Ed’s and transmitted a telepathic, “tell him.” If she could have followed through, she would have added, “or I will.”
Ed sighed and compressed his lips. He looked at Ian, his eyes probing, evaluating. Was it time to spill the truth? It was no secret that Lindsey had always done whatever was best for her, regardless of the cost to those around her. If Lindsey had a daughter, she’d be one of those mothers who yank too hard on their daughter’s hair with the brush or scrub too harshly when washing her face. Lindsay wasn’t much of an animal person either—a major character flaw.
Mirabella ruffled her feathers and adjusted her position on Ed’s shoulder before turning to focus her attention on Ian.
“Son, do you remember when Lindsey and I first separated? It was after I came back from a prolonged business trip to China. You were in graduate school.”
“Sure. I sensed things were off between you two the few times I was home from school. I hate to say this, Dad, but it was hard for me to warm up to that woman.”
Ed walked to the credenza where he kept a crystal decanter of Glenfiddich, his favorite Scotch. He poured two drinks and handed one to Ian.
“Okay then.” Ed took a long swallow, and faced his son.
Mirabella flew over to Ed’s desk and proceeded to perform a flamboyant bird march, raising each foot high before slamming it back down. She paused to turn sideways and blink at Ed, showing off the black and white ring of feathers around her alert eyes. She bobbed her head rapidly and then continued her march. She didn’t enjoy thinking about that Lindsey person.
“When I arrived home after my trip, I dropped my suitcases by the front door. Mirabella fed back my hellos in a normal, parroty, high-pitched voice. But then she cocked her head and her voice changed completely. This was when she was beginning to get very good at mimicking voices.”
Mirabella took this as a cue to declare, in a perfect imitation of Lindsey’s voice, “Oh drop dead, Edward.”
“Mirabella!” Edward stifled a laugh. “Not now.”
Not taking his admonitions a bit seriously, Mirabella inched up and down the edge of the desk muttering, “ Not now, not now, not now….” She began to shred the top pages of a legal pad.
Ian took a stiff swig of his Scotch.
Ed continued. “Well, in a voice I had only heard once before, Mirabella shouted out in French, ‘Oui! Mon Dieu ma petite. Je t’adore.’ Then in English with a French accent, ‘Oh my God…oh my God…Oh, Oh’, which sounded more like ‘Ooo, Ooo.’ After my initial bewilderment I realized where I had heard that voice before—Lindsey’s French art instructor. She must have brought him into our house—into our home—and my guess is that they didn’t make it much past the couch in the living room. It was a gut punch for sure.”
“Oh my God, Dad. I am so sorry. Must have been a hell of a shock.”
“Tell me about it. Hearing about my wife’s indiscretion from my…well…my um…parrot was humiliating. When I confronted Lindsay, she admitted everything. We had a long overdue talk, followed by an immediate separation, and the subsequent divorce. We kept the reason private, and she received a decent settlement. Luckily, we’d only been married a short time. As for me, I was content to return to living life quietly again, like I did after your mother passed.”
Ed walked over to his son and put his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Lindsey and I were very different people and were never well-suited. All’s well that ends well, so to speak.” Ed raised his glass in a sardonic toast.
Mirabella followed suit with, “All’s well that ends well,” in a perfect imitation of Ed’s voice.
“Well,” Ian said, “I appreciate you having enough confidence in my maturity to be straight with me. And as for you, Mirabella.” Ian walked over to the desk and put his hand down for Mirabella to hop up. “I will make it a point in the future to be very, very careful what I say in front of you.”
Mirabella responded by running up his arm and giving Ian a gentle head butt.
***
After Ian left to have dinner with his latest love, Mirabella settled down on her perch.
“It’s full moon tonight, Mirabella,” Ed said. “I have candles ready, and I’m going outside to enjoy the quiet of the garden and the glow of the new solar lights.” A smile played around the corners of his mouth. Mirabella was sure Ed was content enough with his life, if not completely happy. But then, what human was.
Mirabella closed her eyes and curled one foot under her belly. It was time for both she and Ed to enjoy the quiet of the evening. The shrill sound of the front doorbell jarred her reverie. Irritated, her eyes popped open and there was Carmen. The front porch light was harsh and unflattering. Ed’s voice came through the speaker in the doorbell.
“Carmen, I’m out here on the patio. I’ll buzz you through.” The door clicked open.
Mirabella was having none of it.
Within moments, annoyed-sounding squawks rang through the house, followed by the rapid tapping of high heels across the tile floor. Carmen disappeared from Mirabella’s view as she burst onto the patio, a bottle of red wine in one hand. Her dark hair was streaming out of a very messy topknot. Her off-the-shoulder silky top matched the bright red of her lipstick, which was slicked over very unhappy, downturned lips.
Mirabella leaned as far as she could toward the voices coming from the back of the house.
“Edward, why can’t you lock that darn bird of yours into her cage? Do you see what she did to my hair? That creature flew at me and pulled several strands loose from my carefully coifed bun. I paid $65.00 to have my hair done especially for you.”
Mirabella could visualize the scene unfolding. She didn’t need a physical medium to scry. Mirabella could clearly visualize Ed wiping the annoyance from his face at the intrusion. Being polite, he would quickly rearrange his features into a sympathetic smile. Mirabella knew that in this house, she came first and Carmen a poor second. She heard the clink of glass as Ed retrieved two wine glasses from the outdoor bar.
“I’m sorry, Carmen. Mirabella has been in a mood all day. I’ll keep an eye on her but she doesn’t like being confined to her cage. I keep the cage door open all the time.”
Sensing his displeasure, Carmen quickly changed tack. She accepted a glass of wine and placed a kiss on Edward’s forehead.
“Let’s start over, shall we? Good evening, Ed.” She raised her glass. “I hope you haven’t eaten yet because I also ordered a pizza to be delivered. My treat.”
Ed guzzled his wine.
Mirabella pouted in the living room. If Ed had been paying attention to her thoughts, he would have shown Carmen out. Pacing and cackling, Mirabella spotted Carmen’s wicker, unlatched purse sitting on the dining table. She cocked her head and hopped closer. She spread her talons and reached into the unexplored depths of this new toy. Whistling with unadulterated glee, Mirabella pulled each new item up into view, turning objects sideways, tearing into a few with her beak, and tossing most to the floor. A small card case slid across the tile and landed under a loveseat. Completely absorbed in her new game, Mirabella vocalized, “Happy Mirabella. Good Mirabella. Pretty bird.”
***
Across the street Jeannie gathered items for the alter and placed candles in each of the four directions. As she spread the white cloth on the small table and set out matches, she hummed a bit of the Mummer’s Dance. Kucing, her sleek black cat, twitched her tail and followed Jeannie with attentive yellow eyes. Kucing’s job tonight was to help direct energy.
“This is our first full moon in our new house, Kucing,” Jeannie said. “It’s just you and me, but maybe soon we’ll make a few friends who can help us raise some positive full moon energy.” Kucing pricked her ears forward.
Earlier in the day Jeannie had burned sage and cleansed the house. She was beginning to feel comfortable in her new home and hoped to soon fill her almost empty backyard with lots of flowering plants. Jeannie placed a large, quartz crystal cluster in the center of the alter next to a silver pentagram. The five points of the star represented the five stages of life: birth, initiation, commitment, repose, and death.
Jeannie paused, hand outstretched, a white sea shell dangling in the air above the almost-completed alter. Thoughts of her neighbor, Ed, passed through her mind like clouds drifting across the full moon. What was it about this man that he stuck in her mind? He was attractive enough for sure, but there was something else. An energy maybe? Jeannie gave herself a little shake and refocused her attention to the task at hand. As the moon began to rise, she called to the four directions, lit the candles, and began to cast her circle.
***
Finally forgiven for the purse fiasco, Mirabella was enjoying being back in Ed’s good graces. She’d even put her very favorite game on temporary hiatus—hiding objects around the house while Ed was sleeping. Much to his delight, Ed’s car fob was always exactly where he’d left it, and small household items stayed in plain sight. But Mirabella was getting bored quickly with all this good behavior. She had not stopped turning her tunes on as needed, day or night. A dancing bird’s gotta do what a dancing bird’s gotta do.
“Hey there, girl,” Ed said, stopping by her perch. “I’m going out to pick up Chinese food. I won’t be long.” He gave Mirabella her favorite treat. She held the delectable fig between two talons, turning it over and over before tearing off a piece to savor. Between bites, Mirabella bobbed and danced to the sound track from “Momma Mia.”
Much to her chagrin, he’d also left Carmen in the house. Before he went out the door, Ed admonished Mirabella to behave and to leave Carmen alone. The fig was a welcome bribe, but…. Mirabella tried hard to do as Ed wished, but this female person gave off bad human vibes, and Mirabella’s primary job was to protect Ed. She cocked her head just enough to lock Carmen in her field of vision.
“Stay away from me, you stupid ugly bird,” Carmen scolded. “If I had my way you would be given to the local zoo or made into parrot soup. Nasty bird.” With that Carmen turned away and disappeared into Ed’s den.
Mirabella leaned forward on her perch, the remnants of the fig dangling from one talon. The neighbor’s black cat was sitting in the front window across the street. Its ears were pricked forward, obviously checking out Mirabella. Mirabella sensed a kinship. Her pupils dilated and contracted. She closed her eyes and directed a thought toward the cat. The cat stood up, arched its back, and jumped off the windowsill.
There was something interesting going on there, but Mirabella’s attention was pulled away by sounds coming from Ed’s den. That Carmen person was talking to herself, and it sounded like she was opening and closing drawers. Mirabella hopped onto the floor and scooted toward the open barn door. Along the way she dropped what was left of her fig. She peeked around the corner. Carmen was holding papers in one hand and talking into a cell phone. Mirabella cocked her head forward to listen. Music was still playing in the background, so she had to focus.
“Yes, I took pictures. He’s made paper copies of the front and back of his credit cards. You’ll have to move fast. I’ll text you the info. Look, I need to get this stuff back in his files fast before he gets home. No. He’ll never suspect a thing.”
Mirabella tapped back across the floor and flew onto her perch. She didn’t understand exactly what she’d overheard, but her protective instincts told her she needed to store the words away and save them for the appropriate moment.
Ed’s key clicked in the front door lock. Carmen quickly moved into the living room and casually draped herself across the back of the couch.
“Ed, the scent wafting from that bag is making my stomach growl,” Carmen gushed. “Let me help set the table. Getting Chinese food was a wonderful idea.”
“Thanks,” Ed said. He unpacked cartons and placed them on the large island separating the kitchen from the dining area. He turned toward Mirabella with a furrowed brow.
“Why are you so quiet, girl? Are you okay?”
Mirabella did a little spin, dipped her long tail, and flew across the room to land on his shoulder. She gave one happy sounding squawk, and then craned her neck so she could look Ed in the eye. A telepathic wave washed over him. It was more of a feeling than words. Worry. Something not right. Before he could sort it out, there was a knock on the front door.
“Expecting anyone?” Carmen asked. Her eyes narrowed into unattractive, mean slits.
“No, but….” Ed walked to the door with Mirabella offering muttered commentary from his shoulder.
Mirabella’s eagle eyes glimpsed Jeannie approaching through the window. And, even better, the black cat was with her on a leash.
As Ed opened the door, Mirabella bobbed up and down with excitement. “Hello. Hi. Jeannie. Jeannie. Pretty girl. Good girl,” Mirabella said.
“Edward,” Jeannie said. “I hope I’m not dropping by at an inconvenient time. I made this lemon cake this afternoon and wanted to bring it over as a thank you for welcoming me to the neighborhood.” She paused abruptly and followed his eyes to the cat. “Oh. This is Kucing, my very special cat friend. Hope you don’t mind.”
The front door was still open when a Toyota SUV pulled into the driveway and Ian jumped out. Mirabella excitedly took off towards her perch, digging her talons a little too hard into Ed’s shoulder to get lift off.
“Ow!” Ed rubbed his shoulder.
Mirabella ignored a small pang of guilt and cackled happily as Jeannie, Ian, and the cat checked each other out.
“This is great timing you guys,” Edward said. “Ian, this is Jeannie, my new neighbor.” He then turned to Jeannie. “Jeannie, this is my son, Ian. I just picked up Chinese. Lots of food. It can be a party. My friend Carmen is in the kitchen.” Jeannie picked up Kucing and followed Ian through the living room.
Mirabella screeched her approval and danced. She was quite delighted to finally get to meet this interesting cat creature, and her intuition told her Jeannie was an excellent human. She flew back over to Ed, landing gently on his shoulder.
Carmen froze, and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh no, not a cat. I’m horribly allergic. I’m sorry. I can’t stay.” She began to sneeze right away.
Mirabella felt Ed stiffen.
Before Ed could protest or Jeannie could offer to take Kucing home, Carmen pushed past everyone and fled.
“Oh my,” Jeannie said. “I am so very sorry. Looks like I’ve intruded and ruined your evening.”
Ed was too stunned to protest and then, to everyone’s surprise, began laughing out loud. “Not at all. Come and sit down everyone. We have fried rice, General Tso’s chicken, veggies, shrimp…. Ian, pull some plates out of the cupboard and let’s dig in.”
Mirabella flapped down to the floor and slowly approached Kucing. The cat stood very still and raised her tail. Mirabella bent down and touched the top of her head to Kucing’s. She felt the humans hold their collective breaths.
“Good bird. A friend. Good cat.” Mirabella bobbed her head up and down, and reached out a taloned foot to touch the cat’s black coat.
Jeannie caught Mirabella’s eye. “Mirabella, this is Kucing.” She then turned to the adults and said, “Her name is Indonesian for cat. Spelled K-u-c-i-n-g, but pronounced Koo-Ching.”
Mirabella tried it out on her tongue, “Kucing, Kucing. KUCING!” She spun and then high-stepped it across the floor, spotted the tip of her lost fig, and fished it out from under the love seat. It was stuck to something. The leather card case came out with it.
“What’s that you have there, girl?” Ed asked around a mouthful of General Tso’s chicken.
He got up and retrieved the leather item, wiping off bits of stuck fig. “Whoa,” he said as he opened it. Inside were three driver’s licenses, all with Carmen’s picture, but with three different names and addresses. “What the hell is this?” He passed it to Ian.
“Wow. I knew there was something off about Carmen.” Ian said. “We might want to hand this over to the police.”
Mirabella, sensing disapproval of Carmen, took that as her cue. She flew up to her perch and shrieked out crazy parrot sounds. Once she had everyone’s complete attention, she paused and then spoke in a perfect imitation of Carmen’s voice.
“Stupid bird, nasty bird. Stay away from me.” Everyone laughed. Jeannie covered her mouth and giggled.
Then Mirabella said, “Pictures. Took pictures. Paper copies of front and back. Credit cards. SHRIEK. Move fast. He’ll never suspect.” Then in her own voice, softer, “Pretty bird. Parrot soup.” She looked over at Ed, who had stopped moving, fork halfway raised to his mouth.
“What was that about taking pictures? Did I hear what I thought I heard? Oh my God.”
Ed stood up. “Give me a minute, everyone. I have some calls to make. Looks like I need to cancel a couple of credit cards, like right now. And Mirabella, I’m bringing you another fig. Tomorrow, my wonderful girl, I’m going to buy you a whole bag of figs.”
- Pretty Bird - June 9, 2024
