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A breeze rustled through the trees, the golden light of the streetlights flickering.  With his arms crossed and back hunched, Percy’s glum expression looked positively desolate as shadows danced over his drawn features.

“I don’t understand,” Frankie murmured, shaking her head.  She shivered in the cool evening breeze, rubbing her goosebump-dotted skin.  “What kind of big plan could he have in this town?”

Percy shook his head.  “He won’t tell me anything.  Not the right time, he said.”  A ghastly grin stretched across his long face.  “Sometimes,” he whispered, “I have dreams of him standing in the street, leading all the town’s animals out like the pied piper.”  He shuddered.

“Why does he hate animals being in cages so much?” Birdie asked, her fingers absently scratching behind Sassy’s ears.

Percy shrugged.  “I guess he feels if we aren’t caged, they shouldn’t be.”  He glanced at his watch and sighed.  “I better go.  If I don’t get the animals back to the shop, Mr. Pemberely will be displeased.”  His face paled at the thought, his large eyes looking like floating pupils in purple shadows.  “Please don’t say anything to anyone.  Mr. Pemberely may be odd, but he’s harmless.  I swear.”  Bobbing his large head, he awkwardly galloped towards the pet shop.

Frankie yawned and stretched, forcing herself to her feet.  “I’ve got to go.  My mom’s going to kill me for being out so late.”  She looked at Birdie.  “Do you have time to walk me back?”

“Sure,” Birdie replied, scooping a sleepy Sassy up in her arms.  “I got nothing but time.”

The two girls walked down the dark street, the yellow streetlights flashing across their features at every corner.

“What are you thinking?” Frankie asked, studying her friend’s solemn features.

Birdie bit her lip, gnawing on the soft pink skin.  “I’m just thinking about Mr. Pemberely.  I think there’s a lot more to him that he didn’t tell Percy.  Things are too simple, much too simple.”

Frankie snorted.  “I don’t think creating a group of animals that talk and think is that simple.”

Birdie shook her head.  “I mean his motive.”

Frankie shrugged.  “He’s weird.  He turned himself into a cat!  What more logic do you need?”

“People do things for a reason,” Birdie mused.  “Why would a brilliant scientist come to a tiny town and create talking animals for no other reason than he felt they should have a voice?  No, no, that doesn’t make sense at all.”

“You could ask my dad.  He might know.”

Birdie shook her head.  “No offense, but I want to do some research by myself for awhile.  I don’t want to tell anyone–my dad, your parents….”

The two girls drew to a stop in front of Frankie’s house.  Through the windows, Birdie could see glimmering lights from the kitchen.  She knew Frankie’s mother would be humming as she did the dishes.  Frankie’s siblings would be tumbling about yelling and shouting and arguing about homework; her dad cooped up in his office trying to find the latest Pulitzer winning story.  She grinned, pulling Sassy closer to her chest.

Putting one foot on the porch steps, Frankie turned to give her friend one last look. “You sure you don’t want to come in and talk to my dad?  He might be able to do some investigating for us…”

“I’m sure.”  Birdie made Sassy’s paw wave.  “Tell your mom thanks for letting you go out.  I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

Frankie waved and disappeared through the house.  As the door opened, a wave of laughter and shrieking drifted into the street before the door slammed shut.   Cuddling Sassy close to her, Birdie turned and walked back down the sidewalk.  Lost in her own thoughts and the gentle sound of Sassy’s breathing as she slept in her arms, the walk felt much shorter than it did most nights.  Pulling her keys out of her pocket, Birdie climbed the porch step and let herself in her dark house.  Setting Sassy down and unclipping her leash, she flipped on a light.  Creeping into the darkened kitchen, she turned on a lamp and read the note on the refrigerator.

Birdie–

Dad has a project and I’ve got a yoga seminar.  I’ll be back by the end of the week.  Dad should be back later tonight.  Tofu and noodles in fridge.  If you like, Mrs. Jones next door said you could spend the night all week and come over for dinner.  Money in the cookie jar if you need it.  Love you!

Mom

Birdie shuddered at the idea of staying with Mrs. Jones, a kind lady who smelled like cabbage and lived in a house crawling with cats and constantly smelled like tuna.  Mrs. Jones liked to watch loud game shows and screech the answers over television dinners, then spend the next several hours after the game shows rehashing the game with her friends.

“No thanks,” Birdie said aloud to the quiet kitchen.  She kicked the base of the stool, chewing on her lip.  Most children might have been scared or worried that their mothers had disappeared for a week without saying a word; or hurt that their fathers hadn’t bothered to check on them or even make them dinner.  Birdie, however, was used to it.  Right now, her thoughts were focused on one thing.

Glancing at the clock, Birdie pressed her teeth harder into her lip.  Eight p.m.  She still had an hour or two before bed.

Pouring some food for Sassy into a bowl, Birdie picked up the phone book and her laptop and plopped down at the kitchen table.  As her laptop booted up and the sounds of Sassy crunching filled the air, she flipped through the heavy yellow pages.  Picking up the phone, she punched in a number.

“Hello,” she said into the receiver.  “May I please speak to Detective Michaels?”  She paused.  “Hello, Detective Michaels.  You don’t know me, but my name is Birdie.  And I have some questions I want to ask….tomorrow?  4:30 p.m.?  I can do that.  Thank you.  I’ll see you then.”  Placing the phone to the side, she pulled open her laptop.

She had some research to do.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a delicious new recipe and Friday, a new Dallas Jean!  Then Saturday, the third and final installment of the Doldrums and LFB!  Stay tuned!