Will Goltra Creative Writing Period 5 FWP2 The Parrot Many animals in the animal kingdom have countless

various specialties. Jaguars and cats have the aptitude to pounce and run up to speeds unimaginable while other animals, such as the sloth have the ability to move so gently that you wouldnt have a chance at hearing one if it was following you, step by step through the fast forests of Cost Rica. Animals have been kept as pets since the B.C. era and no one has discerned their ability to remember and sustain things that they have witnessed as individuals. Many believe that animals are animals and they dont have the same emotional pattern as humans. And many believe that these creatures dont even have feelings. Throughout all humans existence, they dont mind doing horrid things around pets. What, is their dog going to go to the police station and report him for domestic violence? They dont care because the damn animals cant feel or think. And for some animals, this is true. However, this is not the case for many animals, especially for a certain species of bird.

Oh. Dont mind him. *** Why hello How old are you? Bill Callings says to Maryellen Pat, who to him is just a wasted girl at the bar. Sorry? Maryellen Adams says as she reaches for her new, cold refill. Its kind of difficult to hear you over all this commotion. I said, How old are you? Oh. Never mind that. Im a little under aged but that shouldnt bother you. My intelligence level is way over what it needs to be. She smirks at him and winks. As the night gets older, there drinks get fresher. By the time the grandfather clock on the far side of the bar strikes midnight, they would have already had a fare amount of liquid tracing through their squandered veins. Bills thoughts get more and more, well stimulated (for lack of a better word). How about lets take it back to my place. I have plenty of drink there. I dont know. I havent gone over to some ones house in a while. My dad Oh my dad! He says it-its better that I dont. My-my dad thinks that Im a spoiled b-b-b- Maryellen, unable to keep her emotions in check, starts crying.

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Now, now. Dont be like this, I can comfort you and protect you from inhumane people like your father. In stupidity, he reaches for her. He pulls his hand through her brunette, silky hair. Oh I wouldnt say hes inhumane. But t-thank you. She says, swiping away the tears that are racing down to her peach fuzzed chin, trying to fall off her face to her pants was he hands lay. Bill Callings, who has been secretly been purchasing her more and more drink, lays down a sum of $423.44 for the waiter in check. Without much thought, he helps her off the bar stool and walk to the front door where an unforgiving night is awaiting. *** It doesnt take long to walk from the bar to Bills immense pickup truck. And it doesnt take long until Bills manliness seduces Maryellen, dragging her deeper and deeper into his strange charm. How long have you gone to this bar for? Bill asks Maryellen in an inquiry tone of voice. Oh not too long. In fact I just moved here from Idaho. Really? Why did you move to this slum city of Detroit from there? All there is here is crime and destruction. Before Maryellen can give her reasoning, Bill starts the ignition. The jump of the pick ups battery bounces them up and down until the car starts to warm up. The back of the car starts to pump black smoke from its rear end pipe, signaling that it can go into drive. To my place we go? All- alright. My daddy from Idaho has given me enough pain. I think its time for a change. She smiles at him and sighs, If I just told him how I felt. Oh, I wouldnt be here right now. I would probably be in Idaho, with my family and friends. We would be eating dinner right about now, smashed potatoes and chicken. My favorite. Ay, well you know. I think I can treat you to something special when we get back to my place. The Lost Souls: Oh he has such a great way a speaking for a rapist. Oh. Just- she pauses for a second and says, You know, that would be nice. Just as long as it isnt too much for you to handle. Please, I do this all the time with many women. He pauses and looks at her, a bead of sweat drips from his face, dropping to the floor of the car. Thankfully, she doesnt hesitate and simply looks up at him. Sorry. I was dazing, I do that sometimes when Im thinking. That also happens to me! Whenever Im with someone I dont know and I question whether I should be with them right now, I simply fall into a series of dazes. He takes his eyes off her and back onto the road. It sure is a cold one out there, dont you agree? Ive been around these parts for a while but I hear what your saying. I remember my first year living here. I used to live in the real slums of the Detroit with my father. I

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thought I would never get used to this kind of whether, until my father threw me into the cold one night after a beating. Oh my Jesus! What would he do with you? Maryellen questions, wondering if she should or should have not said that. He didnt really give a flying crap about me. He would drink and drink and whenever he was done drinking, he would take off his belt and whip me with all his force. I couldnt forgive that poor bastard if my life depended on it. My mother left him after I was born. I think thats when he started drinking but I could never ask him. Now, almost ten minutes after they left the bar, they pull into a drive. The pavement was covered in snow and the trees surrounding an immense house look like there observing all the pedestrians and cars that zip by them. This is my place. It doesnt look anything like my so called child hood. I got a job when I was 17, working for a businessman. He made millions and he paid me millions. The weird part is, I was his only employer. Wasnt really sure where he was getting his money. All I did was schedule appointments with him and thats pretty much it. By the time Bill is done confessing; the car is parked in his dark, eerie garage. As soon as he ejects his key from its receptacle, he jumps out of the care and runs to the other side of the car and opens the door. Wait right here, I am going to flash the lights on so you know where to walk. It might be pretty bright at first but dont worry. He runs over to the side of his garage where an orange light lights the switch to signify where to push. He thrusts his pointer finger down on it and all the lights go on from all angles; one from the ceiling, the walls of the garage, and each singular light that signifies where each individual door is that leads to separate parts of his house. This is more like an automobile shop then a garage. Maryellen says. As she looks around, she counts the various automobiles. How many are there, 25? I believe 23, but some are my friends. They dont have any other place to park them so they hand them over to me to store. Oh. Thats curious. I would think Yeah, yeah. I asked them the same question; I would think you should find a place to park them closer to where you live? They know I will take care of them so I suppose Ill help a brother or sister out. You know? Oh, I know. She hesitates and points to a door standing behind them. Where does that lead too? My study. I rarely let people go in there. I go in there for when I read. Oh, well how do you get into your house? That way. He takes her hand and leads her through the garage and through a door way that lead into a living room where a fire is a blaze. My. She says in astonishment. This is something you would see in a book but not on this planet. How? Please. I never like to brag. Sometimes you get lucky. That was I. The Lost Souls: Oh please, we all know how you get the money. You liar. To break the uncomfortable silence, Maryellen hears from a not too distance place, a voice. Liar. Liiaaaaar. Without much thought process, Maryellen understands

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that the voice is coming from the left of them, which turns, into a hallway where no lights show any interest of lighting up. Whos that? Maryellen asks, walking toward the sound. Its my parrot. I always enjoyed their species. Why was he saying liar? Maryellen states, getting concerned. Oh. Dont mind him. He says things that he really doesnt mean. You know what I mean right? And for the first time, Maryellen feels worried; worried that Bill is acting like someone he really isnt. Ignoring her feelings, she continues to walk toward the sound of flapping noises, ignoring Bills remark. May I go see him? Or her? Him. And yes, he loves company, but he also enjoys fingers. Smiling, Bill starts to fallow behind her, almost acting like her shadow. Ill be careful then. She says, giggling at the same time. She walks down the dark hallway to where a light shines under a door, giving off an eerie sense of insecurity. Can you hear him? Ever since I walked in. She says, as if what he said was stupid. Ha. Hes a talkative one. She can hear Bill from a farther distance now. She can tell but discounts the fact that shes alone. By the time her worrys started to fade, shes at the door, revealing whatever stands behind it. Oh! She takes a deep breath and embraces the birds beauty. The birds wings are lavished with rainbow patterns. His wings flap ferociously and his beak chops down on some kind of bird food. Hello. This is Jack. The bird murmurs in a monotone kind of voice. Hello. This is Jack. He gets kind of repetitive when hes around strangers. She jumps, having every single hair on her body stand up. Ah! You scared me. Dont do that. She says in a commanding voice. But yeah. Hes a very special kind of animal. Is his name Jack? Yes. He says shell-shocked. Howd you know? He told me. She says, not taking her eyes off Bills. Oh. Thats strange. Hes never said that to me before. He must like you. When she doesnt respond he mentions, Would you like something to drink. Wine, maybe? I dont know. Im kind of done with that. I would kind of just like to sit back and watch some T.V. Fine with me, this way. He grabs her hand, kisses it and takes her out into the hallway, back into the living room and down another hallway that opens up into a T.V. room. Sorry about the poor lighting in the hallways. The electrician was pretty bad. He never seems to get anything right in this house. But I have a side of me that goes straight for retaliation, or payback. Ha! Dont we all! Maryellen says as she enters the light of the T.V. room. How old is this house. It smells like it was just built? Its not too old but I just got a new paint job. Not by the damn electrician of course. Well thats nice. She says opening her nostrils wider; questioning whether or not what shes inhaling is paint or something else.

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I sure do agree. Maryellen looks to her left to where a door stands. Right next to it theres a bookshelf. The books look to be in order from the authors last name, like a library. Scanning cursorily over the books, she sees one book that in an odd way stands out to her. Its called, How to Remove a Stain. The Lost Souls: This is your chance to get away, to be free. The Lost Souls: Sh, only he can hear us, not her. Here, sit down on my couch. Its cover in premium leather from Switzerland. Also where I found Jack, my bird. Thank you. As she sits down, her body sinks into the fine leathering, releasing more and more stress as she starts to sink. Im going to get the remote. Ill be back. Without giving her time to respond, he disappears through a different door way. As she sees him dip around the corner she looks down to a low-lying table. On the table theres a fitness magazine titled, How to Loss Belly Fat Fast. And on the cover theres a photo of Tyra Banks, the founder of Americas Next Top Model. Without asking she opens up the magazine to reveal not models, but pictures of different women, clearly manually pasted onto the pages covering up the different models. Page by page, she gets more and more curious. Why does he have these photos? Maybe theyre just relatives. But in a magazine? She keeps flipping the pages until she notices a disturbing sight. Her picture is on the magazine, but with his face in the background. What the? Then she sees the rainbow parrot pecking down on the ground, almost like a Miwok Indian ritual in the 1500s when Columbus sailed the seven seas. She remembers, oddly enough from her school years. Told you. Liar. Liar. Liar. Nobody escapes. Not one. Told you. Liar. Liar. Liar. Nobody escapes. Not one. Before she can respond she hears the entry door to the T.V. room swing open, revealing Bill. He olds a broken India Pale Ale, more commonly known as IPA glass in his left hand and a picture of Maryellen in the right. Dont listen to that damn Parrot. Bill say in a mocking tone of voice, My wife told me that over and over again but I never listened to a damn thing that cat house of a woman said. Never listen to that Parrot! Bill unable to control whats rolling out of his mouth adds, Im sorry to scare you; I only tried to comfort you. I know your past and I know how to help. Maryellen baby, we can run away together. Dont be like all the other women! Before she can shriek in horror, Bill starts to stumble, walking toward her. One foot crosses over the other, unbalancing him every time he trys to regain himself and poise his weight. Maryellen, finally shrieking, climbs off the couch in attempt to get the hell out of here. But before she can even take a step, she forgets that a sharp cornered table lay down near her kneecaps. Falling onto the ground in agony, feeling the deep cut of pain start to swell throughout her body, she manages to say, Please Bill, I I dont want you to do this. Please. Its too late. Your daddy should have been a better father, keeping you away from freaks like me. He says something more but that was enough for Maryellen to be

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completely fossilized, freezing up like a stone. It wasnt the fact of what he said that scared her, but the fact that this was exactly how she pictured her ending. Bill, realizing that this is his chance for striking, starts to run, hoping that his feet wont fail him now. Bill, please! She covers her face with her fingers that are trembling Uncontrollably. This isnt fare. Oh! You think your life isnt fare! The broken glass rises to his head, nearly piercing his skin. You think everything is hard in your life! The voice that was just dangling to Maryellen now drifts to a faint squeal that is hard to hear. If you thought life was so hard She attempts to squeak out of her breathless voice, Why would you add me to your your horrible, meaninglessness. Bill, now only four feet away from her, stands still. Oh! You think I havent tried! Havent tried to take my own life. Well! Ive tried. But a voice always comes to me as I stand on the top of my roof at night, as a cold end of my pistol dangles down my throat. This voice whispers to me in the wind. It tells me to live in pain, to trust that everything will be okay. But its not true! Bill, now trys his first swing, changes the angle of where he is attempting to hit her. Instead of endeavoring in the left side of her strained neck, he clips her on the shoulder, releasing a surprising amount of blood and a piece of flesh that flies from the shard of glass. You listen to me. He gets his big, voluptuous hand and clutches her by the shirt collar. Youre coming with me. He drags her across the floor, leaving a skid mark of blood that flows out of her shoulder. Where are you taking me? She attempts to say through her pain that is gradually growing inside her. Where! The words seem to come out as clear as a day in her mind but to anyone else her words came out in a mumble. He drags her through the living room and out the door they came in from the garage. Stand your pretty Idaho body up and listen. You scream one more time, Im going to end you, if you follow what I say when I say I will let you loose. He walks around to a different car that she saw entering his house. Purple and orange, her favorite combination of colors. Youll be riding in this seat. He pulls up the trunk and pushes her in. Before he can slam the trunk behind him he hears her. Please, it hurts. Ill bandage you. Just shut your damn trap, all right? As Maryellen stares at his insane grimace, she falls deeper into the cars trunk, recoiling from his voice. He slams the trunk behind him and attempts to scrub the blood off his hands and onto his pants. He sighs and opens the drivers side door. As he pulls out of the garage, he listens to the wind speak and quarrel with him. Although hes insane, he smiles a rationalized smile. And before he pulls out of the drive the wind finishes their speech with I told you The Investigation *** Bob, all Im saying is that there are no leads on the kidnapping. She just disappeared off the face of the earth. What can you expect? Shes a young, immature

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collage student with no brains and no knowledge. Jacks face turns to sorrow over the phone. Im sorry Bob. I know this investigation means a lot to you. Yeah, yeah. But its been over a month! I should have solved the mystery by now. Ive solved much more incomprehensible cases than this one. Bob leans back in his work chair, holding the phone as close as he can to his ear. Sometimes, things are meant to stay a mystery. And me, being your boss and all, order you to quit worry about your case and move onto something else. Im not going to fire you. So Please. Alright, but if I coincidentally run into something thatll give me a lead Im going to take it, no doubt about. Bob loosens his tie and grabs his coffee mug that prints, #1 DAD. Fine but trust me. Its not good for you to keep stressing on it. Its not good for your health. Ill talk to you tomorrow. Kay. Talk to you tomorrow. Bob hangs up his phone and looks to his ceiling where cracks are starting to show due to time. Why. Why cant I get a lead? Its just doesnt make sense. He then realizes that he has been talking out loud, almost startled by his own voice. Its best if I just get some air. Maybe free my mind a bit. Bob gets out of his seat, rubs his red, sagging eyes and walks to his door. As he steps out side, he inhales the garden-fresh air and then exhales. About a minute after his repetitious breathing session, he looks to his driveway where his car should be. Well crap. Dont have a car, cant do squat. After using Jesus name in vein a few times, he clenches his fist, leading to his nails gibing into his pale skin. Ahh. Damn Bill. I told him to stop my car off by the time he left last night. Looking into the distance, almost giving the same expression as the old 1770s photo of George Washington, he walks across his lawn, and down the street to the bus stop. *** This is 5th and St. Louis Street, sir. The tall, dark skinned bus driver mentions as he gently thrusts his dark hands onto Bobs shoulders. I thought you were knocked out by one of them hoodlums who got off the bus a few minutes ago. It turns out Bill was sleeping. Oh He mumbles as his eyes open, staring into the back of one of the tagged bus benches. Oh! Im so sorry sir. I was supposed to get off on 5th and St. Louis Street. I know sir! You told me when you got on the bus. Were here. Do you need any assistance getting off the bus? Im not an old frail man! Bill says, smiling while the bus driver laughs in his deep, hefty voice. Any ways, thank you for the ride. No problem. Any time. Bill stands up, shakes his legs loose, feeling pins and needles shake around like atoms in a cup of noodles packaging, getting warmed up in a microwave. He gets off the bus; looks to his right, and sees that just around the bend reveals the beginning of a long, long drive way. Where the hell do I begin? Bob says, flailing his hands in the air.

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Ten Minutes Later Bob, with no effort what so ever to look for an entrance to Bills garage, dials Bills number on his Samsung. The phone rings a few times before a muffled voice comes in on the other line. Bob? Bill Callings says, surprised, almost caught off guard like someone walked in on him naked, fresh out of the shower, What is it, Bob? Oh nothing. But your not answering your door and you have in your possession my car! Alright, calm down. Bill says, haggardly. You just keep your pants on. Im not home right now. I went on a vacation. I dont give a damn where you are- Hey! Now, now, now. Just because were no longer friends doesnt mean we cant carry on a conversation. Bill says, smiling. Im in Tallahay, a few miles outside of town. Its in an Indian reserve where people come to take a break. So please, dont get your panties up in a bunch and bother me. Oh. I wouldnt! But give me entrance to your house so I can get my car and leave! Once again, Bob clenches his left fist together, revealing new traces of blood. Theres a key next to a daisy flower which stands next to my garage. There you will find a remote that gives you entry into my garage. Now, will you leave me alone? I have a breathing term with the Chief of the Midweek tribe. Before Bob can respond, Bill slams his phone down, applying enough pressure on the end button to hang the phone up. Bill looks to his left where the garage wall stands a good ten feet above Bob who stands 63. Bob walks over to the plant, which Bill described as a daisy. One hell of a daisy if you ask me. Bob remarks as he digs inside the leaves of this mysterious plant to disclose a remote that lay perpendicular to the garage. Bob picks it up, examines it and presses down on the only button there is to push. With a big crashing sound, the garage door flings open. Inside Bill Callings House *** Bob, swinging his keys on his side like a gate guard in front of a military base, examines all the various cars that date from the 1960s. Instead of admiring them, he is disgusted by all the wealth Bill carrys around with him. Now where is my car? Bill, holding his bleeding hand, trying to stop the flow of blood, surges his car keys to sound off the car alarm. Almost startled, his car, with an alarming dent pelted into it, starts sounding off the panic alarm that is marked in a fading red on his car keys. Rolling his eyes he walks around the front of his car and is about to click the door open when he hears a faint voice coming from with in an opened door. Time time to die. Time time to die. Disobedient to the sound of strain in the voice, he opens his door and gets in.

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Some damn nation get up hes got going here if you ask me. Bob mumbles to himself. As he revs on the gas peddle, he once again hears the same monotone voice repeating the same strenuous words but louder. This time, taking action, he turns the car off again, steps outside his car and calls, Bill! Bill, you in there? Someone, something responds back in a voice that sounds so depressed, so helpless he cant stand but run to the door and inside to where his living room sits. Bill. Are you in Splattered along the sidewall to his left of where he is standing is a pool of red blood. My! But before he reaches into his pocket to grab his cellular device, he notices a bird pecking at something on the other side of the living room that looks almost like flesh. Time time to die. The bird repeats this time, in more or less in a strengthening voice. As he focuses on the birds wings, almost getting transcended into a daze, he gets shaken by another sound. Bill Bill Callings fault. This time, without stumbling, he takes his hand from where his mouth lay ajar and digs into his pocket to grab his Nokia. In no time, Bob has already dialed Jacks phone number and waits impatiently as the slow rings fade into a familiar voice. Hello, this is Jack Spalding speaking from Ann harbor, Michigan. How may I assist you? Jack, its me, Bob and I think you may want to come down here. How come? Has something happened? Jacks grip on the phone intensifies as his hands start to get clammy. Bob, if its on that investigation, I swear Im not coming. Bob hadnt honestly thought that this occurrence had to do with the investigation. It might, but I dont know. I was picking up my car from a friends Yeah, yeah. Ill be down there in just about ten minutes. Are you within city limits? Yes, in fact Im on 5th and St. Louis Street. All right. Jack sighs. Ill be down there with some investigators. What do you see? Please, I I cant explain. Just come, come fast. Without hearing for a response, he hangs up his phone and hurrys for his car. He then drives down Bills long lanky driveway to the side of the street that leads back into the city. *** Well, you were right Bob. Jack says trying to admit that Bob was right. About what? Jack and Bob are now sitting on the side of the road while they watch ambulances turn into the long drive way towards Bills house. I never said this had to do with the investigation. Either way. The investigators found traces of Maryellen Pats DNA in the blood. But the only question is, where is she? Thats the only question! What about Bill Callings? I knew him once as a friend and thats it. That son of a gun! He betrayed me in a game of poker. Made me lose thousands. Hes a bad man but I had no clue he would take to the extreme! Hey, hey! Calm down. I agree but are biggest concern is for Maryellen Pat. Do you know her? You knew Bill Callings? Jack, now pulling out his note pad, licks his fingers and flips through the used papers, looking for some place to write.

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No. I never knew her. He was an off dude. We were really good friends. We would go to bars together and, well we did some fun stuff together. Everyone has a sort of crazy friend and to tell you the truth, he was the one. He never stayed in. He got around, almost every single state to be exact. And did you ever see anything super out of the ordinary about him? Bob, now stuffing his face into his dirty palms of his hands, doesnt respond. After a few minutes of silence and un-rhythmic breathing, Jack breaks the silence. I know its hard. Youre never at these kinds of investigations. You work in the office. This is out of your comfort zone. No. Its not that. I just feel so stupid that I didnt know. Why didnt I get my car two weeks ago! We would have been able to catch him! His voice is now raising, louder and louder. Sir. You need to keep your voice in track. This is something that you simply cant yell about. I know! I know. Lowering his voice to follow orders. I have seen very disturbing things in my life but not one like this before. He says, in a deep more depressed tone of voice. And everything was so fresh. And I dont know where he is. I dont care where he is going to run. All I need is to know where she may just be. I understand. And we will search. We will search for as long as it takes. But please. In these kind of investigations, we dont like to spread blurry information. So please, before you do anything! Dont spread any information to make sure that no information gets put in the wrong hands. Do you understand? Yes. Yes I do. And however long it takes. I will catch him. He says in a stir voice. I will catch the son-of-a-gun and get him behind bars. And when I get him behind bars, I will make sure he knows what pain feels like! To make him pay for any unimaginable things he has done to Maryellen Pat. It is now snowing.

TO BE CONTINUED

Goltra, William

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