A Precious Secret

Rick Pascal                                                                    About 2500 words

38-35 Brookside Avenue

Fair Lawn, NJ 07410

(201) 791-9526

rickpas@optonline.net

A PRECIOUS SECRET

Buzz Ardsley could barely contain his excitement. “We found one. We finally found one! How soon can you get here?”

           Robert White spilled his coffee on the expensive white tablecloth in Kendall’s Brasserie. “All the way to Christchurch?”

           “I’ve located the Kakapo,” Buzz continued. “You gotta get here as soon as possible or we’ll lose it to someone else.”

           “Okay, Buzz,” White answered, “give me the details.”

           “Here’s what I have so far, Bob. The remaining Kakapo parrots are protected on two islands, Codfish and Anchor, off the southern coast of New Zealand. They’re on the critically endangered species list with only about 150 of them remaining. There’s this guy on the mainland known as ‘Kingfish’ who’s been harboring a Kakapo for about six months. He thinks the government may be on to him and he’s looking to dump it fast. He dropped his asking price from $1 million down to $750 thousand due to the pressure. He’ll hold it for us at that price for only the next two days so we’ll have to act quickly. And he wants cash.”

           “You’re positive about this?”

           “Bob, I’ve checked this Kingfish guy out. My sources tell me he’s got the bird. He’s as legit as one can be, for a crook, that is.”

           “Remember, Buzz, I want one that can speak.”

           Buzz was reassuring. “I’ve done my homework, Bob. The bird is about 5 years old and in good health. What’s more, it actually speaks four languages: English, of course, Japanese, Maori and, wait till you hear this…Indonesian.”

           “Buzz, that’s amazing. $750 thousand, you say?”

           “Right.”

           “It’s 1:15 PM here in LA. I’ll have to take my corporate jet, but it’ll be worth the cost. This way the bird will remain undetected for the trip back. I want a quick turnaround so I can get to spend Christmas with my mother in Palm Desert. You know how upset she gets if I miss spending the holiday with her. You make the arrangements once I land. I’ll want to see this Kingfish guy right away. I’ll notify you when my flight leaves and my ETA in New Zealand. Anything else I need to know?”

           “I think that about covers it, boss.”

“Buzz, this is fantastic. I’ll call you later.”  Ecstatic over his discovery, White quickly paid his check and hurried off to empty out his safe deposit box.

#

           Robert White accumulated his fortune of over $1 billion through real estate dealings, most of which were legally and ethically questionable. The trophy room in his Beverly Hills mansion included original paintings by Rembrandt, Dali and Miro, rare Anglo-Saxon tapestries, Faberge eggs, and pieces of French furniture from the 18^th Century. What he always wanted but was unable to maintain under the watchful eyes of California state law, was a collection of wild animals. Even a tiger or lion would satisfy his appetite. But he knew the authorities would shut him down if he kept one. He turned his attention to rare, almost extinct birds. When he heard of the Kakapo, he wanted to own one as a pet. He paid Buzz Ardsley, his most trusted investigator, $50,000 up front and promised another $25,000 once he found the treasure.

#

White had been planning this undertaking by accumulating over $1 million in $100 bills in his safe deposit box over the course of a year. He stuffed 7,500 of them any into an overnight suitcase – plus another 50 in his pockets for any unforeseen contingency - and headed to the private airport where his corporate jet was ready for takeoff. He placed the suitcase containing the ransom under the seat alongside him and called his partner in crime in New Zealand. “It’s now 4 o’clock, Buzz. We should arrive at around 8 AM.

           “It’s about a 2 to 3-hour drive from Christchurch to Kingfish’s cabin, so we’re looking good, Bob. Have a safe flight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#

           Buzz reached for Bob’s overnight bag. “You must be exhausted after that 14-hour flight.”

           “I caught a few winks, but I was too psyched to get much rest.  I’ll hold onto my bag, thank you very much.” White responded.

           If one were to have drawn a picture of a down under backwoodsman, he would have come up with the spit and image of Edmund “Kingfish” Cornwall. The tails of his khaki shirt hung outside his khaki trousers. His ankle-length boots revealed muscular hairy calves. A red plaid handkerchief was tied around his neck. The brim on his hat was turned up on one side and pinned to the crown. A twelve-inch Bowie knife was fastened to the wide belt on his shorts.

           “How long have you been living in the woods?” White asked as he eyed Kingfish from head to toe.           

“I’ve been off the grid for quite some time, mate. That’s how I’ve been able to hold onto the Kakapo without being detected. But as your friend here has probably told you, I suspect that the authorities might be sniffing around soon. Just rumors y’know, but I don’t want to take any more chances. You got the million in cash, right?

           White snickered. “You mean $750 thousand, don’t you?”

           “That’s right mate, my mistake. But it has to be cash, right here, right now or else no deal.”

           “I’ve got the cash. Let me see the bird. And I want to hear it talk.”

           “Crikey, you’re a shrewd one, aren’t you?”

           “I just want to make sure I get what I’m paying for.”

           Kingfish led his guests through a curtain of colorful beads into a room where a 4-foot by 4-foot cage sat on a rickety wooden table. The floor of the cage was strewn with wood shavings, as was the floor in the room. Two 6-inch bowls were in a corner of the cage; one with water, the other containing a variety of seeds, flower petals and small pine cones. An orange and a banana also lay in the cage. A greenish-yellow ball of feathers about the size of a basketball sat motionless in another corner. A white beak protruded from its feathery face.

           “Mates, meet Abigail, my pet Kakapo. Or shall I say, soon to be former pet.”

           “Hello Abigail,” White said to the bird. The bird remained silent, as well as still. “Hello Abigail,” he repeated.

           Abigail stared at White. “Skraaaark,”

White raised his voice. “Talk to me, dammit.”

           “Skraaaark,” was the only sound coming from the bird.

           Frustrated, he turned to Kingfish and said, “I thought you said she could speak.”

           “Of course she can, in four languages,” Kingfish assured him. “You have to speak more gently to her is all, mate. Watch this.” He leaned in toward the cage, smiled, and spoke in a soft and smooth voice to the bird. “Hello Abigail. Hello. Hello.”

           The Kakapo turned its head toward Kingfish and approached the near edge of the cage. “Hello Kingfish,” she said in a voice so clear and sweet that both White and Ardsley thought they heard a woman’s voice.

           “Now watch this,” Kingfish continued. “Kia ora, Abigail, kia ora.”

           “Kia ora, Kingfish. Kei te pēhea koe,” Abigail responded.

           “Konnichiwa, Abigail,” Kingfish continued.

           “Konnichiwa,” Abigail responded.

           White’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “What was that?”

           “I just said ‘Hello,’ in Maori. She responded, ‘Hello Kingfish. How are you?’ Then we greeted each other in Japanese. Now watch this: ‘Bagaimana keadaanmu, Abigail.’”

“Saya merasa baik, Kingfish,” Abigail said with the same woman’s voice.

“And that?” Robert asked.

“That, my friend, was Indonesian. I asked Abigail how she was feeling. She replied that she was feeling well.”

“I don’t speak Japanese, Maori or Indonesian, but I heard her respond, so I’ll take your word for it. Right now, English is good enough for me. She’s amazing. Buzz, please bring me the suitcase.” White unzipped his carryon bag and revealed the $750 thousand in $100 bills. “Feel free to count it.”

Kingfish perused the contents of the suitcase. He picked up a few banded packs of the bills, flipped through them as if they were a deck of cards. “I trust you, mate. Abigail’s yours. Just remember to speak softly to her and she’ll respond to you.”

The two men shook hands. “How’re you going to transport the bird back to the States?”

“I’ve got my private jet at the airport. No one will know.”

Kingfish went to the far corner of the room and opened a small refrigerator, the kind used in college dorm rooms. He removed three cold bottles of Victoria Bitter, Australia’s most iconic beer. He popped the caps off the bottles using the handle of his Bowie knife.  “Cheers mates, been a pleasure.”

The three men clinked their bottles and chugged their beers to toast their deal. Kingfish helped Ardsley and White carry the birdcage to the Range Rover, securing it in the rear of the vehicle.

“Where are we going?” Abigail said, to everyone’s surprise.

“What’s that?” White chuckled.

“Where are we going?” Abigail said again.

“To a new home in America,” White responded, shocked that he was having a conversation with a bird.

“America, America,” Abigail continued, as if she already knew where they were headed.

“That’s quite enough, now Abigail,” White said, as he and Buzz placed a canvas tarp over the cage, closed the rear hatch and drove away. Buzz kept well within speed limits, making sure to avoid suspicion by the New Zealand authorities. Abigail, to Robert White’s delight, remained silent. He and Buzz supervised the loading of the cage onto the plane that had been refueled and waiting for them. On board and relieved, the two men relaxed and enjoyed a glass of Scotch, toasting their good fortune again as the plane soared east toward Los Angeles.

“You realize, Bob,” Buzz began, “how ironic the acquisition of this rare bird is, don’t you?”

“How’s that?” White responded.

“With all the trophies and other valuable treasures that you have in your estate, this is one that you won’t be able to display,” Buzz remarked.

“That’s true,” White contemplated. “But so long as I know that Abigail is mine, it will be okay. It will be my own precious secret.”

#

The private jet continued smoothly toward home, embracing the jet stream. White picked up the intercom and rang the cockpit. After a moment, he said, “The pilot informs me that we’re due to arrive in Los Angeles at 6 PM yesterday,” then he chuckled, “as a result of gaining a day over the International Date Line. The following day will be Christmas Eve – perfect timing.”

“What’s your plan?” Buzz asked.

“I have some business to attend to at the office as soon as we land. The pilot will radio ahead for my driver to have the Jeep ready at the hangar. I want you to take the bird directly to my mother’s farm in Palm Desert.” He handed Buzz a card. “Here’s her address. You drive alone in the Jeep. I don’t want anyone else to know about this. I’ll alert my mother about your arrival with the bird so she’ll be ready for you. Tell her that I’ll be there the following afternoon so we can celebrate Christmas Eve together. Then come back and meet me at 10 AM for breakfast at the Fountain Room Café in Beverly Hills. I’ll have a nice bonus for you.”

“Sounds like a plan, Bob. You can count on me.”

#

Mrs. White welcomed Buzz at her front door.  “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Ardsley. Robert told me to expect you. Won’t you come in and sit awhile?”

“I can’t stay, Mrs. White. It’s been a long day and I really have to get back to the city. Wash up and get some rest. I’m sure you understand. Where can I put this bird?”

“Of course, dear, I know full well how tired you must be. My oh my, that’s such a huge cage. You’d better put it in the corner of the garage. I’ll take care of it after that. You and my son Robert are friends, aren’t you?”

“Business associates, really, Mrs. White. But we are friendly, yes.”

“Do you have plans for Christmas, Mr. Ardsley?”

“Not really, Mrs. White. I’m not married, and most of my family lives on the East Coast. And please call me Buzz.

“Certainly, Buzz. Just like the sound of a bee, right?” Buuuzzzzz,” emphasizing the z’s. “If you don’t have any other plans, why don’t you spend the holiday here, with us? You can come out again with Robert tomorrow. I’m sure he’d love to have you here.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Mrs. White. I’d be delighted to spend the day with you. I’ll tell Bob about your invitation tomorrow morning when we meet for breakfast. Thank you again.”

#

           “Here’s your $25 thousand, plus another five thousand,” White said as the waitress finished pouring their coffee. “You did a fantastic job, Buzz. I really appreciate it.”

           “I appreciate the bonus, Bob. It was a pleasure working with you, too. Feel free to call on me any time.”

           “I know it’s a bit late for this,” Bob said, “but if you don’t have any special plans for the holiday, how about taking some time off and coming out with me this afternoon to spend the next couple of days in Palm Desert for Christmas.”

           “Funny you should ask, Bob. Your mother invited me last evening after I dropped off the package. I’d love to join you.”

           “That’s great, Buzz, even though she beat me to it. How about I pick you up at 4 o’clock this afternoon. We’ll drive out there together.”

           “Perfect,” Buzz replied, happy not to be alone for another holiday.

#

           “Come on in, you two. You’re just in time, dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes,” Mrs. White said as she kissed her son and planted a big smooch kiss on Buzz’s cheek.

           “Dinner smells great, Mrs. White,” Buzz said, his voice filled with elation.

           “What are we having, mom?” Bob asked. “Smells great.”

           “Why it’s that beautiful, plump chicken you sent, Bob. I hope it tastes as good as is smells.”

           “What!!!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing off the walls. “Chicken!!!! Mother, what in God’s name have you done???”  Buzz remained numb, trying to process what he had just heard.

           “Mother, that wasn’t a chicken!” he screamed. “That was an extremely rare parrot, almost extinct. I paid almost a million dollars for it. It could speak four languages!!!” He lowered his head and rested it in his arms on the table, sobbing.

           “Oh, Robert,” Mrs. White said, tearfully. “I feel so terrible. I didn’t know.” She paused, then continued, “Then why didn’t it say something?”

THE END