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With Sassy by her side and the black cat trailing behind them, Birdie rushed out of Mrs. Abigail Adam’s house after promising to meet Percy and Detective Michaels at Pemberely’s Pet Shop in two hours.

Hopefully, her idea wouldn’t take her that long to complete.

Dashing down the sidewalk, Birdie headed the opposite direction of the main part of town and the polar opposite of her mother’s yoga woodsy yoga den.  With Sassy panting gleefully beside her, interrupting her playful yaps for a curious sniff or two of the sidewalk, Birdie flew down the concrete path.   Finally, as sweat ran down her back and her breath burst out in little puffs, she saw the marble spires of Pemerberly University rise over the grand trees bordering the edge of town.  Whooping in relief and joy, the sight was enough to give her the extra burst she needed to bolt towards the horizon, Sassy faithfully racing along beside her.

As the daughter of a professor, Birdie knew the intricacies of the winding dark hallways well.  Rushing into one of the identical imposing red brick buildings, Birdie practically skipped down the oak paneled hallways, her feet clattering against the well-worn wooden floors.  Tall doorways frowned at her, the tiny cloudy windows cut into the walls black with disapproval as she barreled down the hall.  Finally, she reached the tiny dank offices shoved into the turret of the building, as an afterthought for those who taught there.  Taking the stairs two at a time, with Sassy still ahead of her, she galloped to the third floor and made a sharp left turn, then right.

The black cat trailed her the entire time, it’s black feet silent on every step and on the creaking cracked wooden floorboards.

Peeking into office 3-D, Birdie sighed with relief.  Just as she hoped, a grizzled white head was poking out of a mound of papers, muttering and mumbling as various pens and pencils jiggled on the desk around him.

“Professor Allright?”

The white head snapped up.  “Who wants to know?”  a creaky voice snarled.

“It’s Birdie.  Professor Lake’s daughter?”

The white head twitched.  “I’m afraid I don’t know a Bird.”

Birdie stifled a sigh.  It was just like talking to her dad.  “No.  I’m Birdie Lake, Professor Herbert Lake’s daughter.  We met at the lecture of plant symbolism in ancient cultures a few months ago?”

“Fascinating lecture,” the white head mumbled.  “So many illogical inconclusive ideas, but fascinating lecture.”  The white hair whipped into a tornado, shaking back and forth rapidly.  “But I still don’t know a Bird.”

Stifling a sigh, Birdie reached forward and pulled down a stack of papers.  A tiny owl-like man, dwarfed by his enormous white mane, blinked up at her through thick round black glasses.  “Oh!  Birdie!  Professor Lake’s daughter!  We met at that lecture!  Fascinating lecture.  Bloomsfield is an idiot, but a fascinating idiot.  How’s your father?”

“Fine,” Birdie replied, not mentioning she hadn’t seen her father in nearly two weeks.  He tended to get caught up in his research.  “Listen, I need your help.”

“What can I do for you?” Professor Allright asked, puffing out his chest and preening.  He loved to help.  As a professor of anthropology, he didn’t get to help much.

“What do you know about animal symbolism and various tribes?  Particularly Native American or Eastren ones, like say Taiwan or the Philipines?”

Professor Allright blinked rapidly.  “Those are two very different cultures and communities.  What kind of animal?  What tribe?  What area?”

“Black cats.”  Birdie shot a glance over her shoulder.  The black cat raised it’s yellow, unblinking stare to hers and twitched its tail.

“Black cats wouldn’t be seen in either of those cultures or communities,” Professor Allright replied, shaking his head.  “Except….”

“Except what?”

“Except for the Black Paw tribe.”

“You don’t mean the Blackfoot Indians?  From the Sioux?”  Birdie glared at the cat.  The cat merely yawned, revealing a pink tounge.

“No, no.  This was a very small tribe.  On the East Coast.  Known for its mysticism.”  The tiny man began to burrow in stacks of papers, his tiny hands digging wildly as streams of white spewed behind him.  “They were known for being matricidal, with a single woman leading each tribe.  The leader always was said to be descended from a black cat, a spirit that they believe protected them.  Cats were revered in their community; to have a black cat commit to you was a sign of leadership and respect.”

“Why black cats?”  Birdie ignored the cat creeping closer and closer to her.  Sassy growled.

Half buried in a pile of papers, the tiny black eyes peered at her.  “I don’t fully recall.  If you give me ten minutes, I can find out.”

Birdie glanced at her watch.  She had to be at Pemberely’s Pet Shop in an hour.  She knew ten minutes in professor time was five hours in the real world.    “Tell you what.  Can I buy you dinner tomorrow?  That’ll give you time to tell me what you found.  And maybe you can look into one or two other things for me.”

“Dinner where?”  The flame of white hair bobbed.  “On campus?”

Birdie grinned.  “Off campus.  At the diner.”  She knew for a fact most of the professors at Pemberely University made a meager salary and relied heavily on their free twice a day cafeteria allowance.  For that reason alone, any dining off campus was seen as an extraordinary treat.

“The diner?”  Professor Allright repeated, licking his lips.  “The one on Main Street with the milkshakes?  And the fried pickles?”

“The very one.”  Birdie nodded.  “My treat.  Burgers, fried pickles, shakes, fries–the works.”

“The works,” Professor Allright repeated, his voice filled with wonder and greed.  “Yes.  Yes.  Dinner tomorrow at the diner will be fine.  I’ll have all the information I can find to you about the Black Paw tribe and their black cats.”

“Can you also look into the Curse of Zarina for me?  And the stories and rumors surrounding it?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”  The white head bobbed up and down, the tiny black eyes disappearing under a flurry of papers.  “See you tomorrow.”

Birdie knew she was being dismissed and would get nothing more out of the the professor.  “See you tomorrow.”    All this talk of burgers reminded her stomach to rumble.  It had been hours since she’d eaten.  In fact, she couldn’t even remember what she had last eaten.  Was it cereal?  A sandwich?  She had no idea.  Maybe she could run to the diner.  It should still be open.  Glancing at her watch, she sighed.  There was no time.  She looked down at Sassy and grinned.  “Ready to run again?  We have another meeting to attend.”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a new recipe and Friday, a new Dallas Jean!  Stay tuned!