by Douglas Cobb
Celeste excitedly told her dad about Frankie. Quentin said that he knew, he already saw Frankie and he said: "He's a pretty cool bird, isn't he, even looking kind of strange, with half his feathers gone."
"I mean," he went on, now in my voice, as I'd taken over his mind, "He looks like a scrawny plucked chicken, and we need to get rid of him at our earliest possible convenience! He's an obvious spy and he's managed to infiltrate our house with the utmost ease! SNURFLES is making a mockery out of PAWS and our motto: "Be Ever Vigilant!"
"Lily," Celeste said, "He's just a bird. He's an animal that came to us in his time of need, and we can't just turn him away! We have to keep him here and take care of him at least until his feathers grow back! He may even be someone from another branch of PAWS, who was trying to warn you about a SNURFLES plot!"
"Celeste, Celeste, Celeste. Poor, naive Celeste," I said. "Frankie really has you snowed, doesn't he? Who else but a high ranking member of SNURFLES would dare to initiate such a bold plan to learn the Top Secret secrets of PAWS? You obviously just aren't thinking very clearly!"
"You aren't thinking clearly! Burn!" Celeste said. That was unbecoming of her. I resolved not to stop to the level of petty insults.
"No, you aren't--your face isn't thinking clearly! Ooooh, double dog burn!" I said, through Triple Q. So much for my resolution. Oh, well....
"Even if Frankie is a member of SNURFLES," Celeste said, "what does it hurt for him to be here until he grows his feathers back? He might see that his enemies aren't so bad and he may re-think SNURFLES plans for world domination."
"They will never change their plans, Celeste! We're talking about SNURFLES here, not someone trying to decide if she should buy a chocolate or strawberry triple-scoop ice cream cone, or a dozen oatmeal cookies versus a dozen chocolate chip cookies, or....I'm suddenly getting hungry. All the hard work I do fighting the forces of evil sure works up a powerful hunger, I tell you w-hut! And, I didn't say 'what' like that because I've watched too many episodes of 'King of the Hill,'so don't even go there, girlfri-end!"
"Well, you know you can't have chocolate. That's not good for dogs, Lily!"
"That means it's perfect for me, as I'm a pterodactyl, and not a dog! There, I logically ran rings around you, so nyaah!"
"No, you didn't, you didn't run rings around anything! You already have food in your bowl, eat that if you're so hungry!" Celeste said.
"My, aren't we touchy!" I said, then grumbled some more, and headed towards my food bowl. Even though it's diamond encrusted, dog food is still dog food, no matter what type of bowl you put it in. Isn't variety supposed to be the spice of life? That's what I was looking for--just a little variety now and then, maybe a nice fudge-covered piece of chewy caramel nougat, or a...oh, what's the use? The only way I would ever be able to get any of the "good stuff," would involve underhanded, cunning scheming, a plan designed by a true mastermind, a plan..hey, wait! I'm a mastermind! I'm an expert at making cunning plans!
I have a minor CONFESSION to make: I have a sweet tooth. Technically, what I was contemplating was maybe not what an upstanding young law-abiding pterodactyl ought to be contemplating. But, my sweet tooth sometimes over-ruled my heart and my brain, and it would once in a blue moon get me in trouble despite my best intentions. To accomplish what I was considering would take the combined efforts of the entire PAWS team, but we would split up our ill-gotten gains evenly: I would get fifty percent, and they would get the other fifty percent to divide up amongst themselves. What could be more fair than that?
The plan was slowly developing in my mind. But, before I could put it into action, I had the more immediate problem of The Scarlet One to deal with. I hated the idea that SNURFLES had placed a mole in the form of a Macaw in our midst. But, I also knew Frankie couldn't leave (unless he was carried out in a casket) on his own until he grew back his feathers. I wasn't positive how long it took in general for molting birds to regrow their feathers, but I thought probably a long time, and I didn't want to wait.
So, I came up with another plan, one so clever it simply had to work! Knowing that Celeste's favorite gum was Sprint Spearmint Gum, and that when she was threw chewing it, she spit it into the trash can in her room, when she was busy watching the television in the livingroom I snuck stealthily into her room like the ninja that I was, and snagged a couple of her latest contributions she'd half-way wrapped in paper. I carried them in my mouth very daintily down the stairs to the basement, carefully and quietly. The gum still retained some of its flavor, and my mouth was watering, so I gave in to the temptation, and started chewing it. The door was partially open, and before you could say: "Jack Russell Terrier!" I was in the basement!
Now came the tricky part. There were low lights plugged into electrical sockets in the baseboards, which provided me with enough light to carry out my solo mission. I rapidly yanked the cloth that had been covering Frankie's cage off with my massive and razor-sharp talons, and flung it to the floor. Next, I blew a humongous bubble with the gum, as big as I could make it, and it finally exploded, covering both Frankie and myself with gum. It hit and coated Frankie like there had been a bull's eye painted on The Scarlet One (whose name, currently, should be perhaps The Bald One), though unfortunately, some also got plastered onto me.
I had to work quickly. Before the startled bird could get a single "Squawk!" out of his beak, I scooped together a bunch of his molted feathers and threw them at Frankie. A lot of them just sailed back to the floor, like colorful confetti; but, many of them stuck to the Macaw, and quite a lot of them got stuck on me. He then found his voice, and started squawking loudly enough to wake the dead!
I told him: "Shut up, you stupid bird--I'm only trying to help you!" but Frankie just squawked even louder.
"Bwa-ack! Bwa-ack!" The Scarlet One screeched. "Bad Lily! Dead meat! Dead Meat!" he screamed, as I was still trying to shush him.
Then, I heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs. Suddenly, Frankie changed what he was saying to: "Frankie hungry! Bwa-ack! Frankie wants a treat! Frankie wants a treat! Bwa-ack!"
"What's going on?" Clare, Quentin, and Celeste were in the doorway, acting alarmed and looking at the scene before them in shock, with wide eyes. My ears went low, and I kind of slunk about. They were behaving as if all of this was somehow my fault!
"Celeste," Clare said, "This is what can happen when you leave your gum around for Lily or the other animals to get a hold of! This is why I tell you to make sure you throw it away and don't leave it on a table or the arm of the chair for her to snatch!"
"But mom," Celeste argued, "I didn't, I swear! I did throw it in the trash!"
"The gum didn't just grow legs and walk out of the trash can on its own!" Clare said, looking as if she was seeing red.
"I thought you were becoming more responsible, Celeste!" Triple Q said. "No more gum for you for an entire week!"
I felt worse for having gotten Celeste into trouble than I would have if it was just myself who got yelled at. I tried to tell Clare and Quentin to punish me, that I was really the only one at fault, but they acted as if I was speaking gibberish.
"Let's get you both cleaned up," Clare said. She grabbed a big industrial-sized bottle of Clare's Deep Cleansing Parrot Scrub Cream, "A Pirate's Second Best Friend," from the refrigerator. This was another idea she'd dreamed up and successfully marketed and which the Quinces had profited from. It was truly miraculous stuff, and though it was designed mainly for birds, and especially for ones that got trapped in oil spills and got coated with the gunky stuff, it was also good for removing a wide variety of other sticky substances. It also worked on dogs and pterodactyls, according to the label. Within a short time (but one which seemed to last an eternity to me), we were both cleaned.
"There you are, Frankie and Lily, as clean as you'll both ever get, I guess!" she said, putting away the bottle and towels she'd used. "Too bad this will probably set your growing your feathers back a week or more, but at least you're clean now!"
Wha-wh
a-what?" I thought to myself. My plans so rarely went wrong. I couldn't understand it. But, this was not my first bird-related misadventure, and I doubted it would be my last. I still wanted to continue my attempts to get rid of Frankie, but I knew the most pressing thing on my "To Do," list had now become seeking Celeste and trying to convince her to forgive me.
I went upstairs, and found her sitting on the couch doing her homework. She didn't look at me, or say something like "Hello, Lily!" gleefully with a smile on her face and evident in her voice as she usually did. She just ignored me. I felt like I was about two inches tall. I jumped up onto the couch and laid down beside her, placing my head in her lap and sighing loudly. I looked up into her eyes. She had been trying to concentrate on her homework, but she couldn't resist my sad, pterodactyl eyes gazing at her, and just had to look at me looking at her.
Quentin was sitting in his chair, reading, as usual. "Poor Lily!" he said. "You look almost as sad and tuckered out as Frankie!"
He really was not that bad of a guy. I just had to borrow his vocal chords again to explain to Celeste why I did what I did. "Celeste, I wasn't trying to get you into trouble! I was only trying to help!" I said.
"Even though the stupid bird is an agent of SNURFLES. I'm more sure of that than ever before! But, I know the sooner Frankie re-grows his feathers, the sooner he can go, and leave me in peace, so why should I want to delay that from happening?"
"I can't stay mad at you, Lily-Bear!" Celeste said, making me so happy it set my tail to wagging uncontrollably. "You were very bad, but I suppose your heart was in the right place." "I still think I could have done it, if I'd had a little more time and Frankie's cooperation. I could have arranged those feathers just right, if I hadn't been so rushed, and that bird-brain would be flying out the window by now! I, for one, wouldn't be boo-hooing," I said.
"How could one small dog--er, excuse me--pterodactyl--get into so much trouble?"
"When you work for PAWS, anything can happen at any time! And, Celeste, there's something that you don't know--The Scarlet One dared to threaten me! He said I was dead meat!"
"You probably misheard him. But, even if you didn't, he was probably just mad ."
"Mad? Whatever could he have to be mad about?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"How about your waking him up from a sound sleep, getting gum all over him, and then throwing his old feathers at him and getting them stuck all over his body?"
"Oh, that!" I said. "I'm sure he'll let bygones be bygones and forget all about that. The point is, he threatened my life!"
"You worry too much, Lily! Frankie's locked in his cage, so even if he is a member of SNURFLES and even if he threatened you and you're not being paranoid (that's a big 'if'), he can't get at you where he is, so you're safe!"
Somehow, though, Celeste's words did little to reassure me. She hadn't been there to hear the sheer menace in that Macaw's voice.
Chapter Four
The Cookies Crumble
Soon after the Gum Incident, Celeste got a part-time job walking "dogs". Not just any "dogs," but the intrepid animals of PAWS, who are, shall we say, not like the dogs they appear to be. Somewhat like famous fictional robots, they were more than meets the eye. I suggested the possibility to her--it would be both a way for her to earn extra cash and it would also play into my plans to satisfy my sweet tooth. The "owners" of the other members of PAWS paid $10.00 per hour each for a minimum of one to a maximum of two hours, and they also were generous tippers. It was a Win-Win situation for everyone.
That is how we found ourselves on a sunny Saturday late in September at the front entrance to the Eternity On Your Thighs bakery. The delicious looking selections in the bakery's front display windows already had my mouth, and the mouths of my compatriots, watering in anticipation.
Strawberry tarts, chocolate triple-layer cakes with Bavarian cream icing, luscious chewy lemon bars, pistachio baklava, and Nicole's Nutty Nougaty Caramel-filled Cupcakes were some of the awesome items we saw that had us drooling. We just had to play it cool, and work together as the unified team that we were, and everything would run like clockwork.
The plan involved going around to the rear of the bakery, where Lucy Marmoset Higgins would use her lock-picking skill to let us slip quietly inside. The secret recipes there had been handed down for generation in Nicole's family, and the Quinces had also contributed many yummy ones. They were protected there almost with as much care as the gold in Fort Knox. Where Auric Goldfinger had failed, we would succeed. If 007 had faced us, he wouldn't have stood a chance!
When we reached our destination, having carefully memorized and rehearsed our parts far in advance, Lucy's skilled digits went immediately to work jiggling the door's knob. It had been left unlocked, and the knob turned easily in her hands. The look of disappointment on her features was there for everyone to read like a book. She had so been yearning for a challenge to stretch her talents! However, the look was immediately followed by one of excitement, as she realized we were very close to our goal.
"Boo-yah!" Lucy said. "Told ya this would be cake! I just wish it had been more of a challenge, yo! I gots to keep my specialized skill set from getting ru-hu-husty, if you know what I mean, dogs!"
"Aaaaaay," Alphonse interjected. "Don't be braggin' too much, Lucy Goosey Girl! We have just begun, and when I read the crystal ball, it showed me a man in a white coat with a uni-brow who might prove to be a thorn in our sides!"
"Fonz, youse worries too much. Me walk ziggy-zaggy, ziggy-zaggy, and everybody lookie at me! I da star, da Big Ticket Item, the 72-inch HD Fla-ha-ha-hat screen that will turn anyone's heads in there, and den youse can walk out wid whatever youse wants, no problemo!" Fuzzy Wally MacGe spoke with an unshakeable confidence, though he walked with shaky stick-like legs.
"Guys," Celeste said, making a face of concern. "I'm getting second thoughts about this. We could get into a lot of trouble!"
"Celeste, when have I led you astray before?" I asked. "Wait, don't answer that! The point is, we're here, the door's open, it's like Fate is saying to us: 'You're in the right place at the right time!' Or, maybe it's Green Day singing to us in our heads, about it being the 'time of our lives,' or something--you know what I mean, Jelly Bean? Green Day, Fate, Fate, Green Day; isn't it all the same thing?"
After making that irrefutable argument, we followed Lucy inside, as quiet as church mice. Well, at least as quiet as church mice could be who'd suddenly discovered, like rodent Indian Joneses, a Mayan pyramid filled with Camembert, Cheddar, and Colby wheels of cheese. If you like some other types of cheese better, feel free to let your imaginations run wild, picturing in your heads as many varieties of cheese as you want. Myself, I was not there for cheese, which would have been quite silly, as we weren't at a cheese shop, but at a bakery (though I did intend to have a slice or two of Nicole's Scrumptious Cheese Cake while we were there).
Alphonse had his numchuks at the ready, doing nervous figure eight patterns with them. We were in a storage area, and there were folded boxes on the shelves waiting to be unfolded andfilled with scrumptious baked goodies. There were sacks and canisters of flour and sugar, too, and other supplies, like colored candy sprinkles and gumdrops in bags. Fuzzy Wally MacGee walked several feet ahead of us. The Distractor was anxious to play his role in our cunning cake caper. I just hoped he wouldn't knock anything over and make a lot of noise, ruining our chances for getting our "just desserts," before I could satisfy my sweet tooth's urgent cravings.
That's when we heard voices towards the front of the store. We drew closer to be able to hear the words more clearly. Dexter's and Nicole's voice were easily identifiable to us, but we heard the voice of a third person, a man's voice, which I had never heard before. Could it be that of a SNURFLE, trying to cause trouble? Our services might be needed here, and perhaps we could satisfy our hunger to fight criminal activity, as well as our hunger for Dexter's Bloody Raspberry Lady Fingers, and Nicole's Cloud 9 Light-As-Air Chocolate Dirigible-Shaped Cake Rolls!
That's when the Distractor made his move. Fuzzy Wally MacGee staggered right out into the middle of the bakery, dragging his leash behind him. I saw as I peeked around the corner of the storeroom. His effect was immediate and quite--well--distracting, for lack of a better term. All eyes were on him, as I, Celeste, Lucy, and Alphonse went behind the bakery's counter, and Celeste started putting items I indicated she get into a large box she obtained from the storeroom. She managed to put some of Nicole's Chunky Chip Cookies, slices of her Scrumptious Cheese Cake, a few of the Nutty Nougaty Caramel-filled Cupcakes, and a half-dozen other yummy baked goods in the box before disaster struck.
"What's a dog doing inside your bakery?" the Man In White answered. "How do you expectto pass inspection like that?"
"We don't know where he came from!" Dexter said to the man. "I think I recognize him as one of the dogs that my sister's terrier, Lily, hangs with, but I certainly have no idea how he got in the bakery!"
"I hope this doesn't hurt our chances of passing the inspection!" Nicole said. "Honestly, we don't allow dogs in here, unless they're Seeing Eye dogs. This has never happened before and won't happen again!"
Dexter tried to grab Fuzzy Wally MacGee's leash, and the Distractor faked him out with the amazing skills he picked up from having played Rugby on the Arkansas All-Star Rhinoceros Rugby team. He skittered to his left, deftly avoiding Dexter's grasp. Unfortunately, he skittered into a table displaying coconut cream pies, which then splattered everyone nearby and came crashing down to the floor. While the Distractor then proceeded to knock over two more tables, the rest of us beat our hasty retreat.
"Grab that dog, Nicole!" Dexter shouted, but the Distractor evaded her, knocked over one more table, and then quickly ran after us.
