21 The Final Meal

The Final Meal The bird-keeper was wearing his most serious outfit. It was a black suit, with a white shirt and a loosely tied gray tie. He stood behind the till, next to a handwritten sign that read BIRD TOURS FOR SALE—MOST REASONABLE PRICES. "I thought you said you didn't do tours?" asked Bethany.

"You and Mr. Tweezer inspired me. Customers have been flooding through them doors since I started doing them. Still ain't got rid of the bloomin' hoatzin, though," he answered, while an exotic bird sang a beautiful song in the background. The song was a cheery, toe-tapping number, which the bird had been singing for a few hours. Bethany and the bird-keeper were happy to pass the time listening to it, while they waited for Ebenezer to park the car. He came in a few moments later. He looked young and beautiful, and his hair was immensely shiny. "You've had another haircut, haven't you, Mr. Tweezer?" asked the bird-keeper. "This one looks much better."

"Thank you." Ebenezer noticed the sign. "I thought you didn't do tours?" he asked. "Well, I do now," answered the bird-keeper. "And business is booming." "Why didn't you dress up like that when you gave us our tour?" asked Bethany. "This isn't for the tour," said the bird-keeper. "It's to mark a very sad occasion. We're holding Patrick's funeral today."

Ebenezer realized that the beautiful song in the shop reminded him of Patrick. "It sounds a bit like him," said Ebenezer. "Did he record an album before… well, before what happened?" "No. That's Claudette singing. She's a cousin of Patrick's," said the bird-keeper. "She came to visit this morning, and I had to tell her the bad news. So in true Wintlorian tradition, she began the funeral singing immediately." Ebenezer poked his head around the back of the shop and saw that Claudette didn't just sound a bit like Patrick—she looked a bit like him too. Her chest was purple and her talons were green; however, she was shorter and just a teensy bit rounder than her cousin.

"The song's a bit too happy for a funeral, don't you think?" said Bethany. "Maybe a little. But she's a wonderful singer," said Ebenezer. The three of them stood listening to the song for a few moments. The music transported each of them to a different place inside their head. The bird-keeper was the first to break the lull in the conversation, because he had listened to the song for a while and because he was a businessman who didn't like to leave customers standing aimlessly in his shop. "Was there anything in particular you wanted?" he asked. "Yes, actually, we're looking for—" began Ebenezer.

"It's Ebenezer's birthday today," interrupted Bethany. "Do you do any birthday discounts?" The bird-keeper flinched at the use of the word "discount." Then he was struck by a wonderful idea. "We do even better than discounts. We give our most special, most loyal customers presents on their birthday!" he said. The bird-keeper turned to go to the back of the shop, but Ebenezer stopped him. "Sorry, but I don't want the hoatzin for my birthday," he said. "Thanks for the offer, but we're not actually here to buy a bird." The bird-keeper turned back to face Bethany and Ebenezer. He was unhappy. "Mr. Tweezer, you know this is a bird shop, and yet it's the third time this week you've