Pink Flamingoed

by Steve Demaree

  “You mean Barney and Bertha?”

  “What a mixed-up society! I mention lovebirds and you mention the only couple who isn’t married.”

  “Not the only couple.”

  “Well, the only couple who could’ve left the street.”

  “Where do you think they went?”

  “Who knows? Maybe they had doctors’ appointments.”

  “Or, maybe....”

  “Don’t say it.”

  Brad and Amy continued to talk. Fifteen minutes later, Barney and Bertha returned. Bertha was licking a chocolate ice cream cone. Barney’s cone was strawberry.

  +++

  One set of lovebirds had returned to the street with ice cream cones. Another twosome had used the first pair as an excuse to get together for dinner. Love was in the air, but vacant from Harry’s heart.

  “I wish you’d let me go with you, Harry,” Ethel pleaded to her husband.

  “No, Ethel. This is definitely a one-man job.”

  “Well, won’t you even tell me what you’re going to do with the flamingo?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t. This mission’s top secret.”

  “And you won’t tell me what’s in that can you have in your pocket?”

  “Just something to help make my job a little easier. Don’t worry about it, Ethel.”

  “You’re not going to do anything rash, are you, Harry? Remember, wherever you put it must be within the rules that Cora laid down.”

  “I know. I know, Ethel. I’ve checked all of the loopholes. I’m playing by the rules Cora set up.”

  “Well, I’ll worry about you until you get home, Harry.”

  “Ethel, it’s not like I’m going on a trip across the country. After all, I’m not even leaving the street. I’m even going to put it in someone’s front yard, and Ethel, I’d better not catch you watching me to see where I go.”

  Harry picked up the flamingo and cradled it in one arm, much like he did that same morning, only this time he was awake, upright, and aware that he was holding the bird. He eased out the door and stood on the front porch. There was not a light on anywhere. Harry had hoped for a cloudy night, but the best he got was that it was a first-quarter moon instead of a full one. He tiptoed down the steps, careful not to drop the flamingo. He did not want to alert everyone that the villain was on the prowl. Harry looked both ways, and when he felt safe that no one was up and about at that late hour, he headed down the street.

  The closer Harry got to his intended victim, the more scared he became. He felt like turning back, but if he turned back, he knew that he would end up sleeping days and sitting on his porch all night until the fund raiser ended. There was no way he wanted to do that. As Harry came to his victim’s house, he reached into his pocket and removed a spray can. He took it and sprayed the iron gate with lubricant, so it would not make any noise when he opened it. After he was satisfied, he opened the gate and slid inside as quickly and quietly as he could. The ominous house was dark. At this point, Harry was not sure which scared him the most, a dark house or a lighted one. He took the flamingo from the crook of his arm and stuck it into the ground. His job was half finished. Now, all he had to do was get out of that place.

  “He-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-hee....”

  The cackle of the old witch scared Harry so much he dropped the spray can. There was no way he was going to stop and pick it up, even if it did cost him a couple of dollars. Harry turned and dashed for the gate. As he reached it, he heard a noise that sounded like a gun firing, and then felt something hit the back of his neck. Harry ran out of the gate. As he did so, he raised his right hand to feel the back of his neck. It felt sticky. Slowing down only slightly, Harry brought his hand around and looked at it in the dim moonlight. He must have been bleeding quite badly, because his hand was all sticky and red. Harry ran as fast as his old legs would allow him.

  “Help! Ethel! Help!”

  Ethel, who hovered near the door without looking out, was close enough that she heard her husband’s cries and raced to his rescue.

  As Harry neared the house, he hollered, “Help! Ethel! I’ve been shot! Run across the street and get Doc.”

  “Did that woman do it, Harry?”

  “Yes, Ethel. Now go get Doc.”

  “Harry, I knew when I found out that you were running around with some other woman it would end like this.”

  “Ethel, I don’t know what in tarnation you’re talking about, but if you don’t hurry up and get Doc, I’ll be dead and someone else will have to tell you about it.”

  The word “dead” set Ethel in motion. She raced across the street and started banging on Doc’s door. Harry’s yelling and Ethel’s banging caused the rest of the neighborhood to wake up and rush to see what was going on. Shortly after Doc arrived with his medical bag, the rest of the neighborhood appeared on the scene.

  “What happened, Harry?” Doc asked.

  “She shot me, Doc.”

  “Ethel shot you?”

  “No, not Ethel.”

  “Where are you shot, Harry?”

  “Where do you think I’m shot, Doc? In the back of the neck. Don’t you see all the blood?”

  “Ethel, let’s get him in the house where there’s more light. Brad, Scott, can you help me?”

  The two men carried Harry into the house and Doc had them lay Harry on his stomach on the sofa.

  “Now, let me take a look at that wound, Harry.”

  Doc bent over and looked at the back of Harry’s neck. Then he touched the place where Harry had been shot and brought his hand up to his eyes. Then, he smelled it. Doc bent over and looked at the wound again, and then raised up.

  “Well, Harry. It looks like you’re going to live.”

  Ethel began to cry tears of joy and praised God that her Harry was going to be all right. Even Cora was pleased to hear the news.

  “How long do you think I’ll have to be in the hospital, Doc?”

  “I don’t think I’ll have to put you in the hospital, Harry. As a matter of fact, other than a slight sting, and some slight pain that goes with it, I think once we go into the bathroom and wash this paint off of you, you’ll be fine.”

  “Paint?”

  “Yes, paint, Harry. Who shot you, anyway?”

  “I don’t want to say.”

  “I think I know who did it,” Brad said.

  “Oh, I might as well tell,” Harry said. “I was tired of all of you making fun of me because Allison put that blasted flamingo under my arm while I was asleep, so I decided to get rid of it, but to get rid of it within the rules that Cora gave us, so I wouldn’t be accused of not playing fair. So, I put it in Wicked Witch Peabody’s yard.”

  “And for his trouble, Harry was shot with a paintball gun,” Brad chuckled.

  “A paintball gun. What in tarnation is a paintball gun?” Harry asked.

  “It’s a gun that shoots capsules of paint. Young people like to play games with them and shoot each other.”

  “Well, whatever happened to cap pistols and Hopalong Cassidy? Who in the world is their hero, Pablo Picasso? And where in the world did a four-hundred-year-old woman get a paintball gun?”

  “I don’t know, Harry. Why don’t you go back down the street and ask her?”

  “I’m beginning to see, now,” Cora added. “It was a paintball gun that she used on those Mormon boys. That’s what got paint all over them and scared them so much that there hasn’t been a Mormon in these parts since.”

  Allison said, “Yeah, I remember that. It was the only time I’ve seen a Mormon in a tie-dyed button-down shirt.”

  Once everyone found out Harry was all right and found out what really happened to him, they started to laugh.

  “Hey, Harry. Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite redneck?” Cora asked.

  “Remember that quotation made famous by General Peabody,” Barney added. “Don’t fire until you see the backs of their necks.”

  “Hey, Cora,” Amy said. “Since Harry
got shot trying to place the flamingo, doesn’t that mean that not only does Harry have to pay another twenty dollars, but that he has to go back and retrieve it and try again tomorrow night?”

  Everyone laughed, while Harry just lay there and covered his head with a pillow.

  “I think I’ve figured out something else,” Brad said.

  “Oh, and what’s that, Mr. Holmes?” Amy asked.

  “Who’s the most famous female artist?” Brad asked.

  “I don’t know. Grandma Moses, I guess,” Amy replied.

  “And who’s the most infamous e-mailer?” Brad asked.

  “No, Brad. It couldn’t be,” Amy replied, as the rest of the group raised their eyebrows.

  Harry thought about how he had corresponded by e-mail with “that woman” and then pounded his head with the pillow.

  Scott smiled, even though he knew the jig was up.

  +++

  The next day all of Aylesford Place was abuzz as each person wondered what that Peabody woman would do with the flamingo. Allison offered to wheel by the Peabody house to see if she could see the bird, but she passed by so fast that she could not tell if the pink object was still where Harry left it. Brad offered to check next, and crept down and peered through the gate, but he did not see anything except an object that whizzed past his head. While no one knew what she had done with the flamingo, everyone felt assured that it would not end up in any of their yards that night.

  +++

  The next morning, one by one the street’s residents arose and went to see if he or she could spot a flamingo anywhere on the street.

  “What happens to our fund raiser if the old lady keeps the flamingo?” Amy asked Cora.

  “I have a backup plan, but we’ll wait a little longer to see if it turns up.”

  +++

  The next day, Frank and Cora were sitting on their front porch when a UPS truck pulled up in front of their house.

  “Are you expecting anything, Frank?”

  “No, are you?”

  “No, wonder what it could be?”

  Frank, calm, patient, and laid-back said, “We’ll know soon enough, Cora.”

  In a minute a man wearing brown shorts and a brown shirt emerged from the truck and trotted up the steps with a package.

  “I have a delivery for the Hendersons.”

  “That’s us,” Cora said.

  Cora reached out and took the small package from the man, while Frank got up and went into the house to get a knife. While Frank was gone, Cora studied the package, but saw no return address.

  Cora looked up and noticed the UPS man taking a package to Amy. As the driver was leaving, Cora hollered at her next-door neighbor. “We got something, too, Amy. If you don’t mind, bring yours over here and we’ll open them together.”

  “Looks like Brad got something, too,” Amy said, seeing the UPS man headed to Brad’s house.

  Once the driver had left, Amy got Brad’s attention and motioned for him to bring his package over to Frank and Cora’s.

  Frank returned with the knife and saw that the package seemed to have multiplied.

  “Wow! This seems like Christmas,” Frank exclaimed.

  “I was thinking more along the line of each package containing a bomb,” Brad said.

  “You would,” Amy countered.

  Since none of the packages were shaped exactly the same, it did not appear that each box contained the same thing. To put an end to the suspense, Frank took the knife and opened the box Cora was holding.

  “What in the world?” Cora exclaimed, after removing the object.

  “I know what it is,” Brad surmised. “It’s the beak from our flamingo.”

  “You know, I think you’re right,” Amy agreed.

  “Of course, I’m right,” Brad said. “I’m the mystery writer.”

  “I thought they’re whodunits,” Amy reminded him.

  “Go ahead, Amy. You’re next,” Cora prodded.

  Amy opened her package and found another part of the flamingo, and Brad followed suit, finding yet another piece.

  “Hey,” Amy said. “Maybe if she sends us all of the pieces, we’ll be able to glue it back together and continue with our fund raiser.”

  “Remember, Amy. I have a back-up plan,” Cora reminded.

  +++

  The quartet was too busy seeing what they had received to notice that most of the street’s other residents received a package, too. After everyone had opened their packages, several of them got together in the street to compare their gifts. It seemed that everyone who received something was there, except for Harry.

  Everyone surmised that the old lady did not dole out the pieces haphazardly. She thought carefully before deciding who got which part of the plastic bird. It was only fitting that Cora received the beak, while Harry was the only person to receive two pieces; a piece of the neck, one side of which was painted red, and a piece of the tail. Barney was the only other person to receive a piece painted red, which pleased him tremendously.

  Even though Harry was the only one to receive a piece of the flamingo who did not take part in the street’s show-and-tell time, he sat in his house smiling, assured that his problems were over.

  +++

  The next morning, Harry woke, more chipper than he had been in a few days. He looked out the window, saw that the sun was shining, and decided to go out on the front porch to enjoy the morning breeze.

  “Aiiiiiiiiiii! Aiiiiiiiiiii! Aiiiiiiiiiii!”

  Once again Ethel came to the rescue to see what was wrong. Harry stood just inside the front door, looking at a pink flamingo, which hung from the door casing with a rope around its neck.

  “But, but, how did she do that?” Harry asked. “I can’t even tell where she glued it together, and how did she do it anyway. I still have my two pieces.”

  “Harry, I’d say that Cora purchased a backup flamingo. Either that, or someone cloned the other one.”

  Harry just stood there and wondered if he would ever be able to walk out of the house again.

  +++

  Just as before, news traveled fast, and the news of Harry’s demise was greatly exaggerated. Because Harry was in such a state of shock, Ethel had to place the flamingo that evening. She had no trouble deciding who would receive a yard ornament. She thought the Armbruster children had done without a flamingo long enough. Mallory was the first to spot the flamingo the next morning, and she hurried to share her good news with the rest of the family. Everyone gathered to discuss who would be the recipient of their windfall. Each Armbruster voted. There was a five-way tie. Scott, being the father and the head of the family, decided to sequester the jury until a verdict had been reached. When all was said and done, Doc was awarded the grand prize. A creative bunch, the Armbruster family decorated the bird for Doc, thus making it more special.

  “How about if we hang a John 3:16 sign around its neck,” Kenny suggested.

  “Oh, that’s so overused,” Mallory said.

  Scott was surprised that she did not use the word trite, but then he figured that either Mallory did not think her brother knew the meaning of the word, or had decided not to use it because they were talking about the Bible.

  “I think a Bible verse would be great,” their dad said. “Since we’re taking it to Doc, how about either Luke 4:23 or Jeremiah 30:17?”

  None of the Armbruster children had memorized either verse, so Jill ran to get her Bible so she could look them up. Everyone liked both verses so much that they decided to use both of them. Also, because they were taking the flamingo to Doc, they purchased a stethoscope and hung it around the flamingo’s neck. Mallory was the one who discovered the flamingo, so everyone agreed to let her be the one to place it in the ground. She thought of it as one giant step for womankind.

  +++

  The flamingo traveled from house to house for a month, until six hundred dollars was raised. Doc noticed the flamingo in his yard when he got home one day and thought about who he would give it to. Befo
re he went to the office the next morning, Doc went shopping for a pair of red socks. Barney received the flamingo with delight and was especially pleased to receive a new pair of socks. That night, Barney took the flamingo and placed it in Bertha’s yard, along with one dozen red roses, a love poem, and a twenty-dollar bill. Bertha passed it on to Lady Catherine. Barney’s idea of the poem prompted her to include a love sonnet and a page from the script of Romeo and Juliet. She knew they would appeal to Lady Catherine. The next evening, Lady Catherine traipsed across the street to Frank and Cora’s and placed the flamingo in their yard, along with an autographed picture of herself. The following night, Cora moved it to Amy’s, and placed a ring from her shower curtain over the flamingo’s beak. Amy, in turn, trotted it over to Brad’s, along with a note that said, “Would you like to go on a picnic with me on Friday?” The next night, Amy found a flamingo in her yard, again, with a sign around its neck that said, “Yes.” Amy had to find another home for the plastic pink fellow, so she opted to take it to Melanie, who had not yet received it. This time Amy tied a “For Sale” sign around its neck. Melanie, laughed when she saw it, tied a dust jacket from a book and a small plastic suitcase around its neck, and left it at Jim and Kathy Mitchell’s. She hoped that they would find it sometime that day. Kathy saw it on her way out to a yard sale with her daughter.

  The bird continued to move each day. At the end of the month, when all the money had been raised, everyone but Harry agreed that it was the best fund raiser they had ever had. The flamingo was retired to Frank and Cora’s attic, where it would be available to be retrieved the next time Cora deemed it necessary.

  +++

  While the group’s nocturnal activities were going on, daytime business proceeded as usual. There were gardens to be tended, lawns to be mowed, photographs to be taken, books to be finished, and an unborn baby to nurture. All of the ladies of the church were eager to know whether the baby Nancy was carrying was a boy or a girl, but they would have to wait. Scott and Nancy had decided that they did not want to know the sex of their baby until he or she was born.