orangetoughguy | log post II

[WRONG. That would be Fruit Brute, not to be confused with Froot Loops. Easy to make a mistake like that, the kid knows. Anyway upstairs now Freddy's standing in front of a partially ajar sliding glass door. How it was left open he doesn't know. How a big-billed bird managed to squeeze through the narrow space that was left open he doesn't know. All he knows is that it's open and that means someone's flown the coop.]

Sam's gone.

[That door was ajar makes the old man's heart stop. Hours ago he went out for a smoke. Looking from the door to the kid to the door again. Oh fuck. The goddamn bird had to find the only open door in the whole goddamn fucking apartment and go through it while they're home.]

Baby I'm sorry...

[The thing is gone. That he did it. Where to fucking start. Larry rubs a paw over his own forehead.]

Oh fuck.

[That bird shat diamonds and he let it escape.]

[Sorry? What for? Why the door is ajar doesn't even register with Freddy Newendyke at the moment. He's already pushing it wider to step out on the deck.] Sam.

[No bird. Not even a feather or a diamond. No one hopping on the roofs of the other apartments. Freddy pulls back into his room.] Come on.

[Whether or not he's implying he already knows Larry's responsible for the door doesn't even matter. How could Freddy lay any guilt on him when he's the one who's been lying about those fucking diamonds? They're two of a kind (sort of), it's assumed Larry won't turn him down when Freddy says:]

We're gonna look for him.

[Man. That bird better be far, far away or he'll fucking kill it for flying the coop. Yeah, old man. We'll blame the bird for what you did. He should be more careful. Then again, when did he ever share the house with a free wandering, feathery pet? Dogs can't get out of doors left open on a balcony at least dogs with brains. Fuck fuck fuck.]

You sure he's not in the bathroom? Or a closet?

[Maybe it's not his fault. Maybe. Fuck though how long ago did he go out to smoke? It could have slipped out while they were watching the bloodbath of a movie.]

We can work or way out. How many toucans can there be, you know? We'll find him.

I looked in the bathroom Larry and I checked the closet.

[Oh is that the sound of someone getting a little emotional? He even waves his hands and opens his closet wider to show the old man there's no toucan in there. Sam's got a big colorful beak, how could they miss it? At least there's still some time left for spring daylight. He's got a jacket shrugged on haphazardly.]

Come on. [You're coming. Would he refuse?]

[Please, please don't let this get this bad this fast. He gulps down a breath staring onto the closet hoping there's something in there. Nope. Jacket in hand he thinks up what else to say or do to diffuse some of the tension]

Of course. You want to go on foot?

[Or the car? At this point he'll say yes to about anything.]

...maybe we should leave out food at the balcony in case he heads back.

Maybe the car.

[That old clunker's just as loyal as a damn dog, or a horse. Freddy nods though in accepting this idea. It's not a bad one, Larry can drive. Also, that's a good idea too. Green eyes look up, mixed with anger and guilt and disappointment in himself. Even if he didn't leave the door open he wasn't paying attention, he didn't act on Sam being mysteriously silent during the film, not that it would be the first time but still. Freddy should have been paying closer attention.]

That's a good idea.

[Again he nods. His movements down the stairs are a little slower, forced from being hurried. Just keep calm and Larry on, Newendyke. He's got the right mind.]

Get the fruit. I'll get the car.

[Brown eyes roll all the way around the room from one side to the other. He should have checked. He should have said something about how quiet it was...except he was too busy enjoying it. The bird could have been sleeping. Now that the kid is out of sight he lets himself slow up putting the coat on.]

Sam. Come on, Sam. Get your ass out here.

[Nothing. Not a cluck or a chirp or whatever he does. Larry attempts to click his tongue to recreate that strange noise the toucan makes. Nothing there.

Sigh. Down stairs he goes grabbing the car keys.]

[Down down down he goes then up up up again with fruit pieces to put on the ledge. There's five individual grapes and a small cube of papaya. What good is it gonna do? What if he flies back, eats the stuff, then flies off again? What if some other bird takes the bait? The kid rolls over all these questions but in the end he leaves the fruit there before coming back to grab one of the bird's shiny playthings from his cage. It's a mini-tambourine, just the right kind of treasure for a toucan.]

Alright let's go.

[He nods to Larry, doing his best to rein in the worry written on his face and punctuated by freckles. Freddy doesn't even care how dopey he looks with the instrument.]

[Good because the old man doesn't care. They're going out to get that bird. That's exactly what's gonna happen.]

We're gonna get him.

[To be more encouraging or more certain than that does not seem fair to do at all. There's a clear hustle to his step. Would the elevator be okay big guy?]

I don't even know if he's been out in the city before, Larry. On his own? He wouldn't fly far when he was with me, how the hell does he know what he's doin'?

[Those hands and thus the tambourine are waving. Tinkle tinkle tinkle. Oh yeah the elevator is fine, hustle or no hustle he's moving in time with Larry, letting the man with the keys take the lead. At least where transportation is concerned.]

Stupid bird.

[Stupid me.]

They got instincts. Stuff in em tells them what to do. How to be.

[That's what the old man is going on right now. Instinct to keep him cold as ice. Elevator it is. Down they go.]

Your bird. We're gonna get him.

[Maybe if he says it more it'll come true.]

Yeah, my stupid bird.

[Freddy relents. He may as well stuff his hands in his pockets and kick a can across the street like some down and out movie character. Seeing as how the tambourine wouldn't fit in his pocket and there's no can nearby, he does no such thing. He sure as hell fells like it, that's all.]

I never had a pet before.

[As if Larry's already forgotten their previous conversations, he's just mentioning it again because the unspoken part is now I know why. Irresponsible Newendyke, youngest in the family with zero nurturing know how. He's getting a cigarette out.]

Uh huh. We'll have a talk with that bird about this.

[A bit of humor. Only a bit.]

He didn't run away on purpose. Little shit doesn't know what he got.

[Yeah. Don't go there kid. Larry won't let you think that an animal doesn't want to be around. That's a joke.]

Stay here. I'll bring the car around. We'll go real slow block by block.

[And stake out every fucking fruit stand all along the way..]

[That joke doesn't get a laugh but it does get a smile out of Freddy.]

Shit look at us. [Me.] Going on a search mission for a fucking animal.

[Yeah you downplay it Newendyke, you downplay it until you don't feel guilty anymore. Too bad that's impossible. The tambourine in his free hand seems more ridiculous with every passing second yet it feels like it's just gonna get heavier and heavier. He nods to Larry.] Okay.

[Puff puff. Stressed smoker's puff.]

At least until he decides to come back.

[Another careful joke. He pats the kids back with a paw, not too hard and not too long. Boy does he feel like a sorry asshole. Can't remember important shit like closing a stupid door.

Sam has to be found. Today. It can't happen if he stands around and keeps comforting the damn kid. Okay, he's on his way to the car for real. True to his word he brings it around in record time. The radio is down and the door is unlocked. Freddy's passenger window is rolled down so that he can wave that tambourine out of it.]

If he can find his way back.

[Almost he wants to say if Sam can follow his nose but the kid's heart isn't in it. He's concerned with the bird's well-being, if he might fall into the wrong hands and it'll be Freddy's fault because he didn't do something about the diamonds to begin with. What if Sam gets attacked by a cat? A dog? What if he finds a dead bird? Why does this feel different from fulfilling a missing persons call? Freddy's gone out on calls to find kids swept up by a vengeful parent or a malicious stranger. He's also seen the results of being too late. This is just a fucking toucan. But like Larry said, it's his toucan, his ward, and he failed to do what was best for Sam.]

Thanks, Larry.

[The kid says only after he makes a silent climb into the car, tambourine arm hanging out but not rattling yet. You'll have to tell the old man too eventually, Newendyke. He wants to find the bird first.]

Instincts, kid.

[Those documentaries about swallows or messenger pigeons come to mind but don't slip out of his mouth. A toucan is not an ordinary bird. And it is ridiculous to fill the kids head with things that may not be right. They'll find him one way or the other. Larry's praying for a live, ornery bird noisy and ready for food. Then Freddy'll be okay. Worrying too much on the fate of any diamonds that need to come into being take a back seat to everything else.

Since the old man's driving when he's not changing gears he rests his hand close to the kid's. Fuck he feels so bad. Could it have been hard to open his mouth and say 'damn it's quiet' during the flick?]

You can look down that way. I'll keep an eye on the road and the opposite direction.

[The radio is off to make it easier to be alert.]

[Block after block of failure later the kid's not quite approaching his wit's end but he's starting to feel more like a stupid bastard.]

Shit we've gone by my work, your work, places we've eaten, where else is there to go?

[The zoo? The woods? Freddy huffs, frustrated, as they pass an upscale florist with colorful lights advertising a mother's day last minute special. Colorful lights. Oh fuck there's a place that comes to mind. Tambourine tucked back in the car he looks at Larry while getting his portable network device thing (they call it a 'smartphone') out.] I'm gonna make a call.

[Lesson learned, never say don't get mad.]

[Normally the City seems pretty small and easy to navigate within a few hours. Now that Sam's gone and could be anywhere it's ballooned. Still no sign of the bird. There are lots of other birds around though. What are the chances? The old man is on his second cigarette.]

Back track?

[His words are getting more and more scarce. Larry's losing himself in thought. What will this mean if the bird never comes back? Will this end up to be a bigger issue? All the kid wanted was a pet. The old man could have stood to be more respectful of that.]

Call who?

[The car pulls over to the shoulder. They may be could be changing direction. May as well figure out where they're going first. Larry rolls the window down more to avoid filling the car with smoke.]

Pet shops?

[There's an idea. If they call around and see if anyone's trying to pawn a bird then they'd be the first to know.]

[A bigger issue sure, once he tells Larry why the bird was really shitting diamonds. How did this become such a fucking thing? To make mattes worse Larry's asking who. Yeah, who. Green eyes glance over briefly before he concentrates on the phone again. It's ringing. The old man will know once that guy picks up...except he's not picking up. Shit. No he's not gonna leave a voicemail. This is too urgent.]

No. [Ahem.] Pet shops are closin' soon. [Ain't open as late as retail even though the basic premise is to retail a living creature.] He doesn't like'em, too much noise.

[Freddy says that last part with a little smile just to show he hasn't lost all hope yet. There's just some kind of irony in a big-billed bird known for making funny noises not liking the noises of a pet shop. Hey he hasn't answered that 'Call who?' question has he?] Turn left over there. We're goin' residential.

[See though he doesn't know a blessed thing about the truth of things. All he sees is a very sad hound dog next to him. Right now he's too into the mission to appreciate that joke for very long.]

I mean if someone found him. You know?

[Okay. Sounds like he doesn't. The old man will handle that himself tomorrow then. It would be better that way. And he won't worry about having to play good cop bad cop. Oh yeah, if there's even a whiff of a lead, Mr. White is going to do it his way.]

Got it.

[Car back into gear and rolling as per Freddy's instructions.]

[Freddy doesn't want to think about a stranger finding Sam because that could mean they might use him, hurt him, pawn him, or be so fucking good to him but not want to give the bird back. Maybe that's what you deserve though, Newendyke. With a shake of his head he concentrates on giving directions. They've been in this city for how long now? Almost a fuckin' year. Orange knows the blocks like it's his own division. Time passes until they're moving towards a deceptively modest set of not too tall and very close together buildings. It's like a mini Haight-Ashbury or European borough.]

Pull over here, at the alley with the vines.

[And then, before the car can even roll to a stop, Freddy turns to look Larry straight in the eye.] This is about the bird, okay? [So don't get mad.] Don't throw any of that 'therapist fuckhead' shit around, I want Sam back in one piece.

[A few more streets, he's losing track of how many signals this wan and that way. Oops. The kid wasn't kidding when he said residential.]

Okay. Gimme two seconds.

[Or moments. Though he does it as fast and as smooth as he can manage. This is a lead isn't it. Could be one step closer to all of this being over.]

Of course it's about the bird. [Eye contact so soon. It about takes his breath away for a ton of separate reasons.] Why would I [no doubt Freddy can see the wheels turning. The pieces are falling together.] Why would he have your bird?

Edited 2011-05-05 08:05 (UTC)

Cause he's been up there. Sam coulda flown out to places he knows.

[Freddy says like one, duh, and two, please don't get mad.]

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