Boys Life

room. Some of the knickknacks in the curio cabinet were gone. I didn’t think Miss Green Glass was ever coming back, and I supposed that Miss Blue Glass knew it. A bird, it seemed, had left its cage. I slid my right hand into my pocket and put my fingers around the feather. “I didn’t mean to bother you,” I said, and I walked to the door.
    “Even my parrot has left me,” Miss Blue Glass moaned. “And my parrot was so sweet and gentle…”
    “Yes ma’am. I was sorry to hear about-”
    “…not like that filthy, greedy parrot of Katharina’s!” she plowed on. “Well, I should’ve known her true nature, shouldn’t I? I should’ve known she had her cap set for Owen, all along!”
    “Wait,” I said. “I thought you just told me your sister didn’t have a parrot.”
    “That’s not what I said. I said Katharina doesn’t have a parrot. When it died, the devil ate a drumstick!”
    I walked back to her, and as I did I brought my hand out of my pocket and opened the fingers. My heart was going ninety miles a minute. “Was that the color of your sister’s parrot, Miss Glass?”
    She gave it one sniffy glance. “That’s it. Lord knows I’d recognize one of his feathers, he was always flyin’ against his cage and flingin’ ’em out. He was about bald when he died.” She caught herself. “Just a minute. What are you doin’ with one of his feathers?”
    “I found it. Somewhere.”
    “That bird died back in… oh, when was it?”
    I knew. “March,” I said.
    “Yes, it was March. The buds were startin’ to show, and we were choosin’ our Easter music. But…” She frowned, her stomped heart forgotten for the moment. “How did you know, Cory?”
    “A little bird told me,” I said. “What did the parrot die of, Miss Glass?”
    “A brain fever. Same as my parrot. Dr. Lezander says it’s common among tropical birds and when it happens there’s not much can be done.”
    “Dr. Lezander.” The name left my lips like frozen breath.
    “He loved my parrot. He said my parrot was the gentlest bird he’d ever seen.” Her lips curled into a snarl. “But he hated that green one of Katharina’s! I think he could’ve killed it the same as me, if I could’ve gotten away with it!”
    “He almost got away with it,” I said quietly.
    “Got away with what?” she asked.
    I let her question slide. “What happened to the green parrot after it died? Did Dr. Lezander come get it?”
    “No. It was sick, wouldn’t touch a grain of seed, and Katharina took it to Dr. Lezander’s office. It died the next night.”
    “Brain fever,” I said.
    “That’s right, brain fever. Why are you askin’ all these strange questions, Cory? And I still don’t understand why you have that feather.”
    “I… can’t tell you yet. I wish I could, but I can’t.”
    She leaned forward, smelling a secret. “What is it, Cory? I swear I won’t breathe it to a soul!”
    “I can’t say. Honest.” I returned the feather to my pocket, and Miss Blue Glass’s face slowly dropped again. “I’d better be goin’. I hated to bother you, but it was important.” I glanced at the piano as I went to the door, and a thought struck me like the arrowhead of Chief Five Thunders lodging right between my eyes. I remembered the Lady saying she’d dreamed of hearing piano music, and seeing hands holding piano wire and a “crackerknocker.” I recalled the piano in the room where all the ceramic birds were, at Dr. Lezander’s house. “Did you ever teach Dr. Lezander to play the piano?” I asked.
    “Dr. Lezander? No, but his wife took lessons.”
    His wife. Big, horse-faced Veronica. “Was this real recently?”
    “No, it was four or five years ago, when I was teachin’ full-time. Before Katharina had me knockin’ at the poor-house door,” she said icily. “Mrs. Lezander won several gold stars, as I recall.”
    “Gold stars?”
    “I give gold stars for excellence. Mrs. Lezander could’ve been a professional pianist in my opinion. She has the hands for it. And she loved my song.” Her face brightened.
    “What song?”
    Miss Blue Glass got up and situated herself at the piano. She began to play the song she’d been playing that night her parrot had started squawking in German. “‘Beautiful Dreamer,’” she said, and she closed her eyes as the melody filled the room. “It’s all I have left now, isn’t it? My beautiful, beautiful dreams.”
    I listened to the music. What had made the blue parrot go so