Something Missing (6 page)

Oddly enough, the reason was Alfredo.

Something about the parrot had caused Martin’s mind to stir for days. Unaccustomed to daydreaming, he was surprised to find himself thinking about the bird at the oddest possible moments: while cracking hard-boiled eggs in the kitchen, while photographing a client’s pantry, and while flossing for the fifth and final time that day before going to bed. He tried to dismiss his musing as ridiculous, but still his thoughts returned to the bird
that had caused him to break several of his most important rules and flee recklessly from a client’s home. Eventually Martin began considering a return to the Grants’, for reasons he could not imagine. He didn’t need the business. He had plenty of clients and plenty of new referrals worth investigating. Still, something inside him continued to tug, and so by the fourth afternoon, Martin found himself at his computer, researching parrots online. In no time he had identified Alfredo as an African gray parrot, had seen pictures of birds nearly identical to Alfredo, and had learned a great deal.

With a lifespan of up to eighty years, the African grays’ claim to fame is their incredible intelligence. With vocabularies of more than a hundred words (with some birds mastering more than two thousand) and the ability to understand and use these words properly, African grays are the most verbal of all birds able to reproduce speech. Grays can also mimic just about any sound that they hear and can perform many tasks on the same level as a four-year-old child, including distinguishing colors, shapes, and numbers of objects.

But Alfredo’s mental acuity wasn’t the only thing that had interested him. Martin’s career demanded that he work alone, and for the most part he enjoyed this element of his profession. He was his own boss, never saddled by inefficient or incompetent coworkers, yet there were times when he craved a little human contact. To combat this need, Martin maintained an almost continuous running monologue in his head, a mixture of play-byplay and commentary on his ongoing actions and decisions that filled the silence of his day. He was constantly analyzing, debating, and reconsidering his choices, and he actually found it difficult at times to turn this internal conversation off.

But there were occasions, such as when Jim told stories about interesting or unique coworkers, or spoke of receiving recognition for a job well done, that Martin lamented the solitary
nature of his profession. Martin believed that he was the best there was at his work, but sadly there was never anyone with whom to share his success or celebrate his achievements.

It was also impossible for Martin to meet new people or make new friends, save at Starbucks, where Nadia and his three usual coworkers seemed to have plenty of time to chat with customers but not enough time for anything but pleasantries for their barista. Though he often said that he didn’t need anyone other than Jim (and almost always believed this to be true), Martin found people to be entertaining and enjoyed getting to know them better. More precisely, he enjoyed figuring people out, uncovering their predilections, understanding their nuances, and determining what made them tick. Without coworkers, these opportunities were unavailable to him.

Recently, Martin had found himself particularly envious upon learning about Jim’s new colleague, Peter. Peter was a vegan in the strictest of senses, refusing to eat even food that contained whey, a by-product of the making of cheese that manufacturers use in the production of crackers and cookies because it is both nutritious and illegal to dump into rivers and oceans (two reasons that always seemed to collide in Martin’s mind). Vegetarians of Peter’s ilk, as Jim had explained, do not eat whey because they do not eat cheese and eggs, and this was because of the impact that dairy consumption had on the nondairy producing animals such as bulls and roosters. Because they could not produce milk or eggs, bulls and roosters were instead killed for meat, and therefore dairy consumption indirectly contributed to the deaths of these animals.

This alone made Peter interesting to Martin. Then Peter’s marriage had recently ended when his wife of a dozen years realized that she was a lesbian and had fallen in love with another woman. Though the divorce had been relatively amicable, the couple underwent a complex negotiation over the four dozen
animals that they had cared for as part of their animal rescue shelter in Milford. Peter’s vegan beliefs, the negotiated settlement of sheep, cats, dogs, chickens, piglets, and a goat, as well as the soap opera–type breakup, made him an interesting character in Martin’s mind, but one he would probably never have the opportunity to meet because of his own career choice.

Though Alfredo was hardly a militant vegan with a lesbian for an ex-wife, he was a creature capable of communication and seemed to possess some degree of self-awareness and intelligence. To someone deprived of human contact during work hours, this appealed in ways Martin had never expected.

So, three days after his research on the African gray parrot was complete, Martin made his second visit to the Grants’ home, this time planning to follow the rules that had made him so successful. Choosing a lot by the reservoir at random, Martin parked his Subaru and approached the house the same way as he had on his first visit, by cutting through the woods on Sidle Road until he emerged more than halfway up the Grants’ long crushed-stone driveway.

Using his pick gun to quickly unlock the back door, Martin set his watch to count down fifteen minutes and entered the house. Though he was braced for Alfredo’s greeting, he still jumped at the sound of the bird’s voice.

“Welcome home, Mommy dearest!” the bird squawked.

Ignoring the greeting this time, Martin moved out of the foyer and into the living room, beginning the process of mapping that should have taken place on his first visit. Completing the outline of the room in less than three minutes, Martin crossed into the front hallway, mapping its dimensions and features, including the staircase to the second floor that he did not plan to explore on this visit. Backtracking, he turned, moving down the same hall that he had passed through on his first visit
and into the kitchen, where he stopped and began mapping again.

“G’day, governor!” the bird called as Martin came into view. Stifling a smile and giving Alfredo a cursory glance to determine if the bird was on his perch (he was), Martin refocused on the kitchen and all its details. After sketching the approximate dimensions of the room, the major appliances, and the furniture, Martin turned his attention to the refrigerator doors. Refrigerators held particular interest for Martin, because they often contained revealing information about his clients. Among the assortment of photographs and recipes that decorated the Grants’ Frigidaire were two items of particular interest.

The first was an appointment card from the Grants’ dentist, Dr. Alfred Adams, for a date in mid-April, probably during the teachers’ spring vacation. It appeared that Mr. and Mrs. Grant had scheduled their appointments back to back for convenience’s sake, the first at 9:00 a.m. and the second at 9:45. This told Martin two things. First, the Grants were probably not going away on vacation in April, as many teachers did; and second, that the home would be empty from 9:00 to 10:00 a.m. on April 22, an ideal time for a visit.

The second item of interest was a wedding invitation for a weekend in late June on the Cape. Though Martin couldn’t be sure that the Grants would be attending this wedding, it was something he could probably determine as the date drew near, and if they were attending, Martin could safely schedule a rare weekend visit to their home. Processing this information quickly, Martin took two pictures of the items stuck to the refrigerator before checking his watch (9:03 left) and turning east down the hallway that he had failed to explore on his first visit. The hall was flanked by two wooden doors on each side and came to a stop twenty-five feet away at a fifth door. In a home as large as
this one, Martin’s goal was to complete a rough sketch of every room on the first floor, locate a spare set of keys if possible, and, if time permitted, photograph the clients’ food stock. Because more than go percent of Martin’s acquisitions were made from the first floors of clients’ homes, he would save the mapping of the second floor for the next visit.

Investigating each of the unlocked rooms, Martin found a spare bedroom and a bath to the north, a walk-in pantry and some type of sitting room to the south, and a home office at the end of the hall, directly east. He took six photographs of the pantry’s contents, checked the usual locations for keys in the home office (finding none), and made his way back to the kitchen, photographing the interior of the refrigerator and freezer, and a shelf of cereal boxes over the sink.

He then checked his watch. Just over four minutes left. Normally Martin would use this last bit of time to make a more thorough search for spare keys, looking for hooks inside closets and behind the doors to the basement and garage, searching desk drawers and any bowls and mugs that might be spread decoratively around the house (particularly on fireplace mantels, a most common location for spare keys), and inspecting the insides of the toilet tanks. Martin knew that keys were often hidden outside as well, under flower pots and garden stones, but searching the exterior of the house was something Martin never did for fear of being seen. Even passing in front of an exposed window was something he avoided.

But Martin had come back to the Grants’ house for a specific reason, for Alfredo, and so he chose to spend his last moments with the bird, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do. Descending the steps into the den (Martin had labeled it as such during his first visit), he approached the bird slowly. From his research, he had learned that African grays were extremely social birds and rarely aggressive, but still, he wanted to be careful.

Five steps away, the bird began speaking to Martin, more rapidly than he could have ever expected. “Hey, stupid! What’s your problem? Hey! I’m talking to you! Gimme kiss! Gimme kiss! Kissy kissy!”

Though Martin was armed with his research and excitement over the bird’s ability to communicate, this outburst still managed to startle him and cause his heart to race. He immediately wondered if this were a mistake after all, if he was taking too great a chance.

As doubts began to creep into Martin’s mind, Alfredo began again. “G’day! G’day! G’day mate!” A brief pause, and then again. “G’day! G’day! G’day!” The bird continued this pattern, ruffling its feathers and becoming more agitated with each series of greetings. Martin found himself with an all-consuming urge to respond to the parrot, and was certain that if he did respond, the greetings would stop. But responding was dangerous, because Alfredo seemed capable of repeating anything that he heard. If his owners came home and found that the bird had acquired a new vocabulary word, they would begin to wonder from where the bird’s newfound knowledge had come.

Then it occurred to him.

Although he couldn’t introduce any new vocabulary to the bird, he could certainly respond using words that the bird already knew. And though he also knew that many of these birds can actually mimic the voice of an individual as well, Martin thought that if he spoke in a voice that approximated that of the bird, he would probably be safe. He considered this for a few more moments, looking for potential flaws in his logic and finding none. He would be forced to break his rule of silence while in a client’s home, but found himself surprisingly willing to take the risk. Martin had established the rule in the event that there was ever a recording device running in a client’s home (intentionally or accidentally), and he had adhered to it religiously
until the day he’d first spoken to Alfredo. Nothing had come of that indiscretion, and though Martin despised violating any of his rules, his desire to communicate with the bird had become overwhelming. So after considering all his possibilities, Martin responded to the bird’s sixth iteration of “G’day” with his own, slightly squawked “G’day, mate.”

Alfredo immediately calmed at the sound of Martin’s voice, settled back down on his perch, and stared with as much intensity as a bird can muster. Martin quickly removed the pen from his ear and began to make a list adjacent to the sketch of the Grants’ home.

G’day

Mate

Scotch and soda please

Kissy

Gimme kiss

Hey stupid

Martin knew that the bird had said more, but he couldn’t remember the words for sure and it was nearly time to go. With just over a minute left, he took one last look at Alfredo and turned in the direction of the kitchen.

“Hey stupid,” the bird squawked. “Gimme kiss.”

“Hey!” Martin answered, oddly hurt by the comment but stopping before saying more than his limited vocabulary would allow.

“Hey!” the bird repeated. “Hey! Hey! Hey stupid! Kissy! Kissy!”

Martin speculated as to what might constitute a kiss for a bird but had no intention of finding out. He turned again, needing to move faster this time.

“Hey dumb-ass! Scotch and soda! Neat! Neat! Neat!”

Martin wondered if Alfredo had timed his comment to match the moment that he passed by the Grants’ well-stocked bar. Either way, he had to move now, ignoring his desire to turn around and scold the bird, with the dozen or so words currently available. Despite his initial affection for Alfredo, the insults were starting to wear on him.

Martin made his way back into the kitchen, taking one last peek at the bird before moving on. As he turned the corner and moved into the living room, he heard Alfredo squawk, “Arrivederci!”

“Arrivederci!” Martin squawked back, quickly adding the word to his list.

“Dumb-ass!” the bird squawked one final time, causing Martin to doubt the future of their relationship.

Since that day more than four years ago, Martin had added more than seventy words and phrases to his list and had committed most of them to memory. Today Martin spent more than five minutes with Alfredo, listening to the bird speak, responding in turn, and kissing the bird whenever Alfredo demanded. It turned out that a kiss was merely the rubbing of Martin’s nose to the bird’s beak, an action that had frightened Martin at first but had become second nature by now. In fact, in the time that he had gotten to know the bird, Alfredo had become very familiar with Martin, often leaping from his perch onto Martin’s shoulder, as he had done today as Martin approached.