A Foot Steps

GWEN

As agreed, Allam waited in the car a full five minutes while Gwen went inside to test the mood.

“I don’t want you to be upset, Rico. I want you to be on your best behaviour. Have I done anything to injure your body? Your psyche? Have I? Ever? Well, then, be nice to my friend. DO NOT SOUND YOUR ALARM CALL. I’ll be offended if you do. For good measure, I won’t read out loud today. Enough of King Arthur for now. Talk only, one-on-one, you-me. Well, you-me and my friend Allam.”

In response, Rico offered indifference. After that, he hoisted his wings like sails gathering air, lowered them, shrugged his little parrot shoulders, puffed up the sails again. Held. Lowered. Bobbed his head sharply several times. Stepped from his perch to an adjacent branch in the cage.

He began to call out several seconds before Gwen’s ears heard the front door open. He did not flap wildly against the bars of his cage. He paced back and forth on the branch. Ran a few steps and then clambered over to a rope perch. Wrapped his bird toes around it. Two toes forward, two toes back, she reminded herself.

“Settle down, Rico. Settle down. I’ll let you out today,” she half sang. “You like being in the kitchen; I know you do. You had a grand time exploring last time you were out. Remember?”

Rico stopped and stared. Allam had entered the family room silently, no sudden movement. Rico conducted a rapid but complete inspection. Continued to stare hard. Ran back and forth. Grabbed at the perch with his toes. Became silent and still. Pupils contracted to pin size.

“Don’t wear yourself out, Rico. And don’t try turning yourself to stone. This is Allam. He will not hurt you. I promise.”

Rico, used to hearing her voice, feigned disinterest again and turned away. He glanced back now and again to reinspect. Curious? Gwen couldn’t tell. She, too, was curious; there were many things she didn’t know about Allam.

In good time, she reminded herself. In good time. There is much that Allam doesn’t know about me, either. For the moment, let me do my job. Introduce man to parrot. Or parrot to man. Not sure which direction this goes. Both, I guess. And remember Rico’s peripheral vision. Sight is his strongest sense. He’s watching, every second. Even when he pretends to turn away.

Allam, unobtrusive by instinct, stayed back. Gwen went to the kitchen, washed a pellet bowl, began to prepare chop, returned, changed the water, hung a new toy. Rico continued to check Allam’s location from time to time.

“Okay, Rico. I’m going to let you out now. I’ll clean the bottom of the cage and sweep the floor while you’re exploring the kitchen. As usual, you’ve done a great job as a seed splatterer. Didn’t your parrot mom and dad teach you any manners? Or is this some vestigial grand plan to propagate new growth in the forest?”