Whenever Mrs. Tweedlebare began to get into a story, she felt like she was coming home. At this particular moment, she knew that she was not quite there. She was close though, just like the homing pigeon.
She had narrowed her field from something or someone, somewhere in the Universe to – the words of Freddie Fudge the Amazing Parrot. She was glad that the main character of her next story was so conveniently close at hand. Of their next story, she had to remind herself. The story that could be pieced together out of the words of Freddie Fudge might prove interesting. Just how important the words would prove to be was something that Mrs. Tweedlebare could not at this stage imagine and neither would Mary have been able to for that matter.
Just how conveniently close she was soon became painfully obvious. Freddie Fudge gave one of his really raucous shrieks. Strangely enough, Mrs. Tweedlebare barely noticed it. She was too busy concentrating on figuring out how to go about getting into the story that she now wanted to write. She paused and gave thought to the story that Mary was struggling to put together.
SQUAWK! STOP MARY!
"We’d better investigate," said Mrs. Melancholy. "Come on."
The problem seemed to have evaporated into thin air. The children were playing contentedly. They were engaged in what child-psychologists call parallel play. Mary was doing her thing. Paul was doing his thing. Freddie Fudge, puffed on a perch, exaggerated the brilliance of his golden-yellow chest. His head was slightly tilted so that one beady eye stared at them and was slowly closing. Freddie Fudge was doing his thing.
"He is getting ready for a snooze," Mrs. Melancholy whispered as she beckoned Mrs. Tweedlebare to follow. "Whenever Freddie appears dazed, it’s best not to disturb him. When parrots are ready for their afternoon nap, leave them alone."
As Mrs. Tweedlebare was thanking Mrs. Melancholy and preparing to say good-bye, she suddenly had an idea. It would be much easier for Mary to gather material for her Freddie Fudge story if she had Freddie Fudge down on tape. She suggested putting a microphone in the aviary. Mary was excited about the idea. If the story were not found on the tape, there would be clues that would provide signposts that would lead Mary into her story, Mrs. Tweedlebare reminded herself. Just how important these utterances would prove to be, Mrs. Tweedlebare could not imagine.
When gathering material for a story Mrs. Tweedlebare modeled her investigations on the methods used by Sherlock Holmes. She was excited about teaching the technique to Mary. She did not want Mary to fall into the trap that Inspector Lestrade fell into. He identified the murderer in a flash. A day or two later, he was proven wrong. Sherlock Holmes would cleverly solve the case because he had noticed something that Lestrade had overlooked. Of course it was not likely that Freddie Fudge's utterances would lead to a case of skullduggery. It might lead Mary to learn a bit about the mysteries of the Amazon rain forest though.
If there was a case to solve or just a story to tell, Mrs. Tweedlebare wanted to be in on it. Even though in the first instance she had not warmed to Mary, Mrs. Tweedlebare, for some reason that she did not entirely fathom, wanted to be the one to help Mary with her writing. Mrs. Tweedlebare was curious as to what Freddie Fudge would have to say about his Amazonian years.