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Authors: Gail Sattler

Tags: #Christian Fiction

When Pigs and Parrots Fly (15 page)

BOOK: When Pigs and Parrots Fly
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Before he had a chance to even open his mouth, the crowd had already started to scatter, many of them already running toward their cars.

Tucker said a few words into his radio, hopped into the car, and the red and blue lights began to flash. “Get in!” he called.

In a split second, Josh slipped into the backseat with Sarah, and the car was in motion.

A police escort for a parrot.

Only in Bloomfield.

Chapter 12

S
arah had to force herself not to hold her breath at the excitement of the ride. “I've never been in a police car before. Isn't this exciting?”

“You might think so, but I don't know if anyone else who has ever sat here in the back has thought that way.”

She glanced up at the back of her brother's head and turned to Josh. “I hope you've never been here before.”

He grinned. “No. My mama raised me to be a good boy.”

From the front seat, Tucker coughed.

Sarah felt her chest tighten. It had been many years since she'd been together as a third party with Josh and her brother. Being with the two of them now, she felt the cascade of bad memories of how stupidly she'd behaved and all the ridiculous things she'd done to get Josh's attention.

Almost like he'd had the same thought at the same time, he ran one finger gently up her arm, the one she'd broken when she fell out of the tree while spying on them. “We'll catch him this time. Everything will be fine.”

She gulped. “I hope so.” As he continued to run his finger up and down her arm, a feeling of warmth settled over her. Everything would be fine. This time, they would catch Murray, and life could go back to normal.

Sarah sighed, and laid her head on his shoulder. It really would be fine.

Ahead of them, Tucker cleared his throat. Loudly. “I can see everything going on back there. Straighten up and sit properly or the seat belt won't work.”

If it weren't her imagination, Josh flinched and stiffened.

Sarah sat straight.

Josh cleared his throat as well, imitating her brother. “We have to talk. After we catch Murray.”

Tucker's voice deepened. “Sounds like we do.”

The tension in the car was so thick that Sarah thought she might need a knife to cut it.

Tucker turned off the flashing red and blue lights before they rounded the corner, slowed his speed for the last block, then the car came to sudden stop in front of Helen's bakery.

Just as she'd pictured, Helen and a few people were standing on the sidewalk, throwing small pieces of bread to Murray on the sidewalk, surrounded by a small crowd keeping careful distance.

“Murray wants candy . . .
squawk
. . . Murray wants candy!” he bellowed.

Instead, Helen threw him another piece of bread, which he gladly pecked off the ground and ate.

Very slowly, Sarah moved toward him. “Hi, Murray. Do you want to go home now? To see . . .” her voice trailed off. She'd almost said
your daddy
, but she doubted Andy would call himself that to a bird. “. . . to see Andy. Would you like that?”

Murray bobbed his head, then turned and stared at her.

She extended one arm, inviting him to perch on it. “Come on, Murray. I want to take you home.”

The bird didn't move.

Very carefully, she bent forward, extending her arm just a little.

The bird crouched in the position she'd come to recognize as pre-flight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Josh stiffen.

Murray extended his wings.

Sarah's stomach tightened into a painful knot. “No . . . Murray . . . Please . . .” she muttered, holding her breath, waiting for the rush of air from the movement of his wings on her face.

“Murray,” Josh muttered. “Look at me.” He cleared his throat and began to sing softly. “Angels we have heard on high.”

Behind him, a few of the gathering crowd joined in, softly as well, but gaining in volume. “Sweetly singing o'er the plains.”

Sarah turned her head slightly toward Josh. “What are you doing?”

“Join in,” he muttered, and he sang a little louder. “And the mountains in reply.”

Sarah joined in, as did everyone else who wasn't already singing. “Echoing their joyous strain.”

Everyone raised their volume, and just like an experienced church choir, they broke out into a perfectly pitched four-part a cappella harmony with the melody and counter-melody of the extended “Gloria” chorus of the Christmas carol.

Murray extended his wings, but he didn't fly. He stretched his wings to their full span and bobbed his head. “Gloria! . . .
squawk
. . . Gloria!”

The entire crowd continued on with the carol, in four-part harmony.

Of course. Singing
.

Murray loved music, and he apparently loved to sing with an audience.

Still singing, Sarah stepped closer and offered Murray her arm. He crouched, extended his wings, and launched, not into the sky, but only to her arm.

Sarah struggled to maintain her balance with all the weight suddenly throwing her off balance, but she managed to straighten and draw Murray's weight closer to her body and maintain her equilibrium.

This time, she knew she wouldn't have to touch him. She knew he was going to stay on her arm. She sang all the way to the police car, with a symphony of four-part Glorias behind her, bathing her in an almost angelic presence as she got into the car.

The door closed behind her and the crowd cheered.

For a few minutes, people shook hands and back-slapped each other. The multitudes dissipated as everyone got into their cars, although Sarah noticed that no one drove away. Everyone appeared to be waiting for them to leave first, like they planned to witness Murray happily returned to his owner.

Josh peeked inside the window to make sure Murray appeared calm, then he opened the door and joined Sarah in the backseat.

Tucker slid behind the wheel. “Mission accomplished,” he said, turned the key, and drove away.

Sarah turned to look out the back window to see Helen and the people who had been feeding Murray waving. Using his police radio, Tucker called the dispatcher and confirmed that Andy was just finishing up the last details at the fire scene and would be back at the fire hall shortly.

They arrived at the fire hall just as the sunset had begun in a blaze of glory. The afternoon brought new meaning to Christmas in July. Still perched quietly on her arm, Murray watched the color through the car window.“I think I'm going to stay here with him until Andy arrives.”

“I agree with that idea,” Josh said.

Unconsciously, Sarah ran her fingers over Murray's yellow belly. “. . . Gloria! . . .” he squawked.

Tucker checked his watch. “I have to fill out a report on what happened.” Instead of leaving, he sat there, staring back at them.

Sarah sighed. “You can go inside, Tucker. I promise we won't break anything.”

“I can't leave anyone unattended in the back, unless I raise the glass, and then the doors lock and you can't get out.”

She didn't think being locked in a police car with Josh and a rambunctious parrot was such a horrible idea, but she could understand that Tucker had things to do. “Can we wait inside the station, then?”

“As long as Murray behaves. I can't have him flying around in there.”

She ran her fingers over his feathers. “I think he's pretty tired. It looks like he's going to behave himself.”

Fortunately, before she had to put him to the test, Andy's car pulled into the parking lot at the firehall across the street. The second the car came to a stop Andy bolted out,
barely
checking for traffic before he ran to them. Just to be safe, she waited until Andy reached the police before she opened the door and got out. She tried not to be self-conscious about the crowd that had followed to watch Murray's reunion with Andy.

As Murray hopped from her arm onto Andy's, the crowd applauded. In the background, a quartet of people sang more Glorias, just in case.

She had a new favorite Christmas carol, for sure.

She turned to Andy and watched him fondly giving the bird a little belly-scratch. Here in Bloomfield, it took only one person to buy a bird, but apparently it took a whole town to pursue a parrot.

“Thanks,” Andy muttered. “I hope he wasn't much trouble. Did you have a hard time catching him?”

Sarah looked up at Josh, who smiled down at her. “Well . . .” she started, and her voice froze as she felt the warmth of Josh's fingers twining with hers. His hand closed around hers, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Not at all,” Josh said softly. “It was actually quite an adventure. And I learned something today.” He smiled, and he looked at her strangely.

Andy nodded and walked away with Murray. Tucker, on the other hand, stiffened, crossed his arms over his chest, narrowed his eyes, and glared at Josh.

Ignoring her big brother, Sarah smiled and looked up at Josh. “That was a great idea you had to sing to him. He calmed right down with the music.”

Josh's smile widened. “Thanks.”

She waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

“Why did you pick a Christmas carol, of all songs?”

Josh shrugged his shoulders. “I know I don't sing too good, so I had to pick something everyone else would sing. I also needed something with a big sound because there were no instruments. That was the best I could come up with on short notice.”

“It was a great choice.”

Again, even though she remained silent, Josh didn't respond. She couldn't understand the strange look on his face. It made her feel quivery inside.

Sarah cleared her throat. “Everyone helped so much. We could never have found him if not for people phoning everyone they knew to help us.”

“No, we wouldn't have.”

Again, she waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Behind her, Tucker cleared his throat.

Josh glared at Tucker and then returned his gaze to her, even though he spoke to Tucker. “Don't you have some reports to fill out or something?”

“They can wait.”

Josh sighed, but didn't reply.

She didn't know what was going on, but his strange behavior started to worry Sarah. Something wasn't right. Tucker's refusal to go away told her there was something she didn't know—something her big brother needed to protect her from.

Josh gave her hand a squeeze, and Tucker stiffened, straightening to his full height.

Sarah's stomach plummeted to the bottom of her shoes.

Josh glanced over his shoulder and gave Tucker a look that, had it been directed at anyone else, might have melted them and made them turn tail.

Tucker didn't move. “I thought we'd discussed . . .” He cleared his throat. “. . . this. And I thought I made myself clear.”

Josh stiffened and shuffled closer to her so that the hand that wasn't clasping hers now rested on her shoulder. One finger gently brushed her cheek, even though he wasn't looking at her.

Josh glared directly at her brother. “We didn't discuss anything. You refused to listen. What's between me and your sister is between me and your sister. It's also private. Now go away.”

Tucker's mouth dropped open. He took one step toward them, stopped, then spun and strode into the police station.

Tucker's abrupt departure attracted a lot of attention from the gathered crowd. No one moved, but pretty much everyone who had followed them from Helen's bakery watched.

In front of them all, Josh turned to her, and brushed a kiss to her lips. “Do you remember when you asked me to marry you?” he asked.

Sarah's stomach lurched. “Yes, I do,” she ground out, barely able to speak. “I was eleven years old.” And it was a day she would never forget.

Like the immature fool she'd been, she'd asked him in front of her big brother, who had stood there and laughed.

Josh hadn't laughed. His mouth had literally dropped open, and he'd mumbled awkwardly that he'd think about it. Still, she'd known what his answer really was—he'd only said what he had to say in order not to hurt her childish feelings. Even knowing that, his omission of a firm negative reply had kept her foolish hopes alive much longer than should have been reasonable.

He brushed his thumb over her lips. “I never really gave you an answer. So if the question still stands, then the answer is yes.”

Her lower lip quivered. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Cool,” she muttered, her brain still not fully processing what she had heard. She'd wanted this for so many years, now that it had been said, it felt like the continuation of a dream. As a child, she'd loved him, grown out of it for the most part, then went to college . . . and come home and fallen in love with him all over again. Or had she never really fallen out of love with him?

His voice dropped to a low whisper. “You're killing me here, Sarah. Put me out of my misery. Does the question still stand?”

BOOK: When Pigs and Parrots Fly
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