The Real Macaw: A Meg Langslow Mystery

easily take her son?
    “She doesn’t have family?” Grandfather asked.
    “No,” I said. “And not a lot of friends who could care for a five-year-old.”
    “And Timmy likes it here,” Michael said. “And we like him.”
    Timmy’s anxious expression gave way to his usual sunny smile.
    “Which reminds me,” Michael added, looking at me. “Timmy has a T-Ball game today.”
    “On a Friday? I thought they were always on Saturdays.”
    “Yes, but it’s rained the last two Saturdays, so they’re trying to catch up by holding one today. Can you…?”
    “Sure,” I said. I took out my notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe and flipped to today’s page.
    “One P.M. at Peter Pruitt Park,” Michael said.
    I nodded and scribbled.
    “What about the animals?” Grandfather asked.
    “The Corsicans are looking after the animals, remember?” I said. “I have Timmy and the twins.”
    “Where is the mother, anyway? Off in the desert somewhere, I suppose, or some remote mountainous part of Afghanistan.”
    “Germany,” I said. “Wiesbaden. Lovely, safe place. On the Rhine. They have wine festivals there.”
    At least Karen wasn’t in a combat zone. Not at the moment, anyway. We were hoping to get word soon that her posting in Germany would be fairly long term, which would mean Timmy could join her. In the meantime, thanks to my brother, Rob, she wasn’t going to miss too many of those precious childhood moments.
    “Look this way, Timmy!” Rob said. He was once again wielding his new little video camera—a marvelous bit of technology, simple enough for a mechanical klutz like Rob to use and small enough to fit in his pocket. Which meant no one was safe from his quest to capture every single significant or picturesque moment in all our lives.
    Timmy grinned, displaying three very large blueberries stuck, with suspicious regularity, in his front teeth. He and Rob both dissolved with laughter.
    Timmy was currently Rob’s favorite video subject. He had days of footage of the boys, of course, separately, together, and with every willing member of the family. But since at four months the boys’ repertoire consisted of eating, sleeping, crying, having their diapers changed, making cute faces, and being played with by family members, even as doting an uncle as Rob eventually became restless for new subjects. Timmy’s arrival several weeks ago had been a godsend.
    “Come on, Timmy,” Rob said. “Let’s go film some of the animals.”
    “Let’s talk to the macaw,” Timmy said. “He’s funny.”
    “Not the macaw,” Michael said. “He’s sleeping.”
    “Can’t we wake him up?” Timmy asked.
    “Maybe later,” Michael said.
    “We need to document the animals in the barn anyway,” Rob said.
    They dashed out, followed more slowly by my grandfather.
    “Macaws need a lot of sleep?” I could sympathize.
    “This one does,” Michael said. “The more he sleeps the better. When he’s awake, he has a vocabulary that would make Lenny Bruce blush.”
    “I know,” I said. “I met the macaw last night, remember?”
    “I don’t want Timmy picking up any bad habits from the damned bird.” Michael was already working to reform his own vocabulary, not that he’d ever been as bad as the macaw.
    “For that matter, we don’t want the boys to hear too much of him,” I said.
    “No way the macaw is staying long enough for the boys to be influenced,” Michael said. “Or any of the other animals.”
    “I agree,” I said. “No matter what Dad and Grandfather may think.”
    But I was relieved to hear that Michael was so adamant, since he was a sucker for stray animals himself. Only a month ago he’d brought home a half-blind elderly rescue llama that brought our herd to four. Of course the llamas stayed out in their pasture, and throwing out feed for four wasn’t that much more work than feeding three, but still.
    “So,” I said. “What’s our schedule for the day? Apart from T-Ball at one?”
    I flourished my notebook. Michael reached into his pocket, pulled out his small Day-Timer notebook and flipped it open.
    “My Friday afternoon class ends at two thirty,” he said. “Do you want me to come back home and pitch in with the childcare, or do the grocery shopping?”
    “I’d love to do the grocery shopping,” I said. “And I freely warn you that I feel that way because with all these animals underfoot, things will be crazy around here.”
    “My plan is to use the animals to keep Timmy