Lost Voice of the Grand Final (2 page)

Chapter 3

The Birds team is training down at the oval. So I ride my Harley-Davidson motor- cycle down to watch them. Put on my helmet, just in case.

A low flying bird dropped on my Z-com last time. Good luck or what?

Fans are cheering, and it's only a practice. Hundreds of them crowd around the fence. They wave streamers, balloons and posters with their favourite players. Beak is very popular with the chicks.

The Assistant-Coach yells a lot. The footballers run up and down. The runner goes out on the field with messages about tactics. The ball is thrown around. They pose for photos. They sweat a lot. They autograph fans, on their hands, or their legs or write squiggly names on bits of paper.

Carrot stands near the goal. He is signalling to the Assistant Coach who is too busy to notice. Carrot is turning tomato-coloured. The Runner goes on field a lot.

How can I find out the facts from Carrot? I try sign language first. Then I realise. He's not deaf. Just voice-less.

Carrot thinks he's special. And now he isn't. But he can HEAR people. They just can't hear him.

So I put my Z-com screen under his beak. ‘Tap.'

I ask a question. Then he pecks an answer.

Carrot is a bad speller. His ‘score' becomes ‘sore' and ‘ham-string injury' becomes ‘ham-bone.' Voice becomes ‘vice'.

I can mind-read, but I get lost in Carrot's murky mind which is all full of ‘I'. No room for anything else.

‘Open your beak. Let's look at your throat.'

I wasn't sure what I was looking for.

‘D'you think you should go to the hospital?' See the Eye, Nose and Throat doctor?'

He shakes his head.

‘Carrot, where did you talk last?'

He keys some places: Sports Centre, Talkback Radio, TV Studio panel, Speakeasy.

Carrot's List might be useful.

So I use my Z-com map to find the places on Carrot's List.

I'm going to solve the mystery of the Lost Voice.

On my way home, I visit the Lost Property Office at the Sports Centre. On my Z-com map, that's the closest place from Carrot's List. Umbrellas, shoes and sports gear fill the room. But no clues to a lost voice.

I read Carrot's List again. What is a Speakeasy? A café? A bar? A fast food place? Judging by the name, you should be able to speak easily there.

Time to check the henhouse. It's the gossip centre of the yard. The hens know everything.

‘Do you know a place called the Speakeasy?' I ask.

‘Yes, we decided NOT to go there for a hens' night out before the wedding. We don't drink homebrew. Cluck Cluck Cluck.'

Turns out that the Speakeasy was one of those rough, farmyard places. According to the hens, the Rooster went there occasionally for a drink of grain-water homebrew. Hard drink was banned in the farmyard. Only soft drinks, like water, were allowed. Speakeasy had its own homebrew and that attracted footballers, and Rooster.

On my Z-com, I find ‘Speakeasy' and decide to snack at home, before I visit.. Eat before you drink is a sensible decision. Not that I was planning to drink homebrew at the Speakeasy. I was working.

I live in the bird yard. All kinds of birds rent a space. Ducks. Geese. Even a swan who teaches ballet.

I have my own loft where I keep my gear. There's a space for my bike and the sidecar. And I can scratch around in the garden too.

At home, while dinner cooks, I try Chooks Anonymous. You can leave a question. Other people read it, and they leave answers if they've got any.

I key in, ‘Lost voice belonging to Carrot the Parrot. Please contact Astrid the Mind-reading Chook'. I type in my link. I hope someone leaves me a clue before the Grand Final.

Then I cruise a few sites, until I smell burning.

Dinner! Grainburgers with farm dressing, and, ... burnt mush.

Chapter 4

My Z-com rings. I lift my wing.

‘Hi. This is Astrid.'

‘Are you the chook looking for the Voice of the Coach? ?' The voice is scratchy, and there's barking in the background. I don't like the sound of it.

‘I'm Astrid the part-time sleuth. My client has lost his voice. Have you heard that voice recently?'

‘Yes,' says the voice. ‘Last night.'

‘How do you know it belongs to Coach Carrot the Parrot?' I ask.

‘Because he was here, warning us not to serve his footballers,' says the voice.

‘Where?' I ask the voice again.

‘At the SPEAKEASY in the lane.'

‘Which lane is that?' Even a mind-reader can't always get it right.

‘The one on the side lane, behind Main Street. But I'm leaving in half an hour. If you want to chat, come over now. I'm the one with the guard dog.' He hung up.

I scan Carrot's face onto my Z-com for easy I.D. I ride my bike so I won't be late. The Z-com clips on the handlebar. My comb-wing swings in the breeze and my headlight works well. My number plate is EGGS-PERT.

A tiny sign says SPEAKEASY. Hard to find the lane unless you knew it was there. A creaky door. It's a sort of bar with murky bottles on the shelves behind. And a smell of old mush.

‘Any lost voices around here?' I joke.

Silence. Then a voice comes from the gloom behind the bar.

‘This is a Speakeasy. In the Olden Days, drinking was banned. So people used to slip in here for a drink. Homebrew. Farmyard Rot-gut. It's easy to speak when you've had too many drinks.'

‘Did Coach Carrot come in here yesterday? Is he likely to drink much? He's always telling his players to live healthy lives.'

‘Hard to see anyone in the dark here.'

I switch on my head-light. Then I can see him in the spot-light AND the open mouth of his guard dog, with sparkly, big teeth. The dog sniffs my tail feathers. I move out of range.

The bartender checks my ID and I check his. I don't check his dog's identity. The other side of the bar is close enough.

‘So what sort of chook are you?' asks the bartender.

‘I'm an English Sussex. See. I'm white with a black collar.'

Then I show him the scanned ‘mug shot' of Carrot.' Have you heard this man before? He's the Coach of the Birds who are playing in the Grand Final on Saturday. But he's lost his voice.'

‘I know that beak,' says the bar-tender. ‘He was here yesterday afternoon, complaining.'

I look into his mind. There's a Carrot face shape. He does know Carrot. ‘Did Carrot lose his voice here?'

‘Well, he used his voice here. He told us not to serve any drinks to his footballers. The Birds players had to be fit to play in the Grand Final. Our place was banned.'

‘What did he say exactly?'

The bar tender shrugged.

‘Help yourself to any sound you like. Web cam has security shots and recordings of all our visitors. Take a copy if you like.'

‘Thanks.'

I scan what I need. Carrot repeated himself a lot.

I tuck the SPEAKEASY copies under my wing.

That's when I had an idea. Usually I can feel an egg coming on.

Carrot's voice must be recorded in other places where he had worked before.

Talk-back radio must have recordings too.

Maybe I could join together, his second-hand words and phrases? And use them until the Coach's Voice returned. After all, Carrot did tend to repeat himself.

Eggs-Exactly!

Chapter 5

The TV studio was see-through walls and shiny , slippery red seats. Chooks prefer feather not leather for their backsides. More comfortable. Less risk of falling off. I wait in the glassy room with all the mirrors and pictures of famous TV faces. Were they real or air-brushed? Often faces did not match the voices. Same with birds and beaks.

A red ON AIR light blinks. So much red in this studio.

‘How well do you know Carrot?' I ask the TV Assistant with red hi-hi heels and red-red lips who does everything at the TV Channel.

‘Well enough. He's so untidy. He's always leaving things behind. I get fed up with collecting his rubbish.' says the Assistant. Her red lips move fast. ‘I'm always having to send on autographed footballs, match fixtures or tickets that he's forgotten.'

‘Do you remember if he spoke much during the TV interview?'

Red Lips nods. ‘He was on the panel at the beginning of the first show. Bit of a problem with the sound quality. Director hit the mute button with his backside. An accident.'

I'm beginning to think that TV studios are uncomfortable places for bottoms.

‘So Carrot was speaking at 12 o clock? Was the show live-to-air or pre-recorded?'

Red Lips pauses.

‘Well, the audience thinks it's live, but really, we record the day before…just in case...'

‘In case of what…?'

‘Bits need to be edited out.'

‘You mean swearing?

Red Lips nods. ‘Or if the match has an unexpected result.'

I start to put the clues together. ‘Thanks for your help,' I say to Red Lips. I leave quickly and ride home. I can feel an egg coming on. Eggs are my best ideas. I'm careful about where I leave them.

At home, I check for messages. Chooks Anonymous is quiet. Only one email about football tips for the Grand Final. Birds are favourites. I feel a bit uncomfortable.

Then an egg arrives.

Eggs-actly on time!

Chapter 6

I listen to talk back radio as I ride. That was the other place on Carrot's List: the radio station. Maybe I could get a recording of Carrot's voice from their files?

By law they had to record it, just in case any callers said anything rude. That's why there was a 30 second delay when it went to air.

The radio station had an Assistant who must have been an orange twin of Red Lips, the TV Assistant. Orange lipstick. Orange hi-hi heels. Carrot must have felt at home here.

But she was helpful. And told me that Carrot had a voice coach.

‘To improve his voice when he first started on radio.'

‘Do you know the name of the voice coach?'

Orange Lips shakes her head.

After listening to the replay, I feel sorry for Carrot. Football followers can be very critical. They complain about whatever the coach does. And the way he says it.

Next, I Google voice coaches. An ad pops up. ‘A Voice-Coach helps you speak better. Whether speed talker or a mumbler, a Voice Coach can help.'

They have nice things called testimonials on their VOICE COACH website. Praise from former clients.

I can't see Carrot the Parrot there. Maybe he hasn't visited them? But he doesn't usually praise his footballers either.

VOICE COACH Testimonials include: ‘You have helped me find my own voice', ‘Thanks, your coaching helps' and ‘I can't stop talking now.'

So I call on my Z-com. A beautiful voice answers. There are smiles and colours and warmth in that voice. What an advertisement!

I put on my BEST voice.

‘Can you have a Coach for a Coach? If the Footy Coach has lost his Voice, do you offer help?'

‘That's an unusual request.'

Carrot the Parrot just wants to be able to YELL again at the footballers.'

‘Oh, my last parrot client wanted to sing opera.'

‘Carrot is a football coach, not a singer.'

‘Sorry, I don't think we can help Carrot. But maybe we can give YOU a free lesson?'

‘Do you think I need it?'

‘MMM.'

I'm getting desperate. As a last resort, maybe I could act as Carrot the Parrot, and be his Voice. Even if I look nothing like him.

I check for Chooks Anonymous messages online. Nothing!

Could I find a look alike? A speak-alike? Someone to act as Coach in his place. Or with his voice?

Ben MUST have some Carrot look- alikes on his agency books. I call him.

‘Ben, do you have anyone who could act as Carrot at the Grand Final? A look-alike? He doesn't have to say anything. All coaching will be pre-recorded.'

‘Yes, I do have one,' says Ben with a smile in his voice.

‘Who?'

‘You.'

‘Forget it.'