"Of course, Mr. Williams."
"And if by some chance," he said, "your family is not appreciative of feathered companions, just have them tie very heavy weights to his legs and drop him in the river. Because I never want to see this bird again."
"Yes, Mr. Williams."
"I heard that," said the bird.
"Good," Barton Williams said.
After the old man'slimousine had gone, Jenny stood on the tarmac holding the covered cage. "What am I going to do with this thing?" she said. "My daddy hates birds. He shoots 'em."
"Take him to a pet store," the pilot said. "Or give him to somebody who'll ship him to Utah, or Mexico, or someplace like that."
Refreshing Pawswas an upscale store in Shaker Heights. There were mostly puppies in the store. The young guy behind the counter was cute, maybe a little younger than Jenny was. He had a good body. She walked in carrying Gerard in his covered cage. "You got any parrots?"
"No. We just have dogs." He smiled at her. "What've you got there? I'm Stan." His name tag saidSTAN MILGRAM .
"Hi, Stan. I'm Jenny. And this is Gerard. He's an African grey."
"Let's have a look at him," Stan said. "You want to sell him, or what?"
"Or give him away."
"Why? What's the matter?"
"Owner doesn't like him."
Jenny whipped off the cover. Gerard blinked, flapped his feathers. "I've been kidnapped," he said.
"Hey," Stan said, "he talks pretty good."
"Oh, he's a good talker," Jenny said.
"Oh, he's a good talker," Gerard said, mimicking her voice. Then: "Stop patronizing me."
Stan frowned. "What's he mean?"
"I am surrounded by fools," Gerard said.
"He just talks a lot," Jenny said, shrugging.
"Is there anything wrong with him?"
"No, nothing."
Gerard turned to Stan. "I told you," he said, emphatically. "I've been kidnapped. She is involved. She is one of the kidnappers."
"Is he stolen?" Stan asked.
"Not stolen," Gerard said."Kidnapped."
"What kind of accent is that?" Stan asked. He was smiling at Jenny. She turned sideways, to show him her breasts in profile.
"French."
"He sounds British."
"He came from France, is all I know."
"Ooh la la," Gerard said. "Will you please listen to me?"
"He thinks he's a person," Jenny said.
"Iam a person, you little twit," Gerard said. "And if you want to hump this guy, go on and do it. Just don't make me wait around while you wiggle your assets in front of him."
Jenny turned red. The kid looked away, then smiled back at her.
"He's got a mouth on him," Jenny said, still blushing.
"Does he ever swear?"
"I never heard him do that, no."
"'Cause I know someone who might like him," Stan said, "as long as he doesn't swear."
"What do you mean, someone?"
"My aunt, out in California. She's in Mission Viejo. That's Orange County. She's widowed, lives alone. She likes animals, and she's lonely."
"Oh, okay. That could be okay."
"You aregiving me away ?" Gerard said, in a horrified tone. "This isslavery ! I am not something yougive away. "
"I have to drive out there," Stan Milgram said, "in a couple of days. I could take him with me. I know she'd like him. But, uh, what're you doing later tonight?"
"I could be free," Jenny said.
Chapter 59-63
CHapter 059
The warehousewas located near the airport in Medan. It had a skylight, so the lighting in the room was good, and the young orang in the cage appeared healthy enough, bright-eyed and alert. He seemed to have recovered completely from the darts.
But Gorevitch paced back and forth, intensely frustrated, glancing at his watch. On the table nearby, his video camera lay on its side, the case cracked, muddy water draining out of it. Gorevitch would have taken it apart to dry it, but he lacked the tools. He lacked...he lacked...
Off to one side, Zanger, the network representative, said, "What are you going to do now?"
"We're waiting for another bloody camera," Gorevitch said. He turned to the DHL rep, a young Malay man in a bright yellow uniform. "How much longer now?"
"They said within the hour, sir."
Gorevitch snorted. "They said that two hours ago."
"Yes, sir. But the plane has left Bekasi and is on its way to us."
Bekasi was on the north coast of Java. Eight hundred miles away. "And the camera is on the plane?"
"I believe so, yes."
Gorevitch paced, avoiding Zanger's accusatory stare. It was all a comedy of errors. In the jungle, Gorevitch had worked to resuscitate the ape for almost an hour before the animal showed signs of life. Then he had struggled to bind the animal and tranquilize it again - not too much this time - and then monitor the animal with care, to prevent the creature from going into adrenaline shock while Gorevitch brought him north to Medan, the nearest big town with an airport.
The orang survived the journey without incident, ending up in the warehouse, where he cursed like a Dutch sailor. Gorevitch notified Zanger, who immediately flew in from New York.
But by the time Zanger arrived, the ape had developed laryngitis, and no longer spoke, except for a raspy whisper.
"What the hell good is that?" Zanger said. "You can't hear him."