Chapter Seven Macabre Macaw
There are some ominous sounding words here, Mrs. Tweedlebare reflected. I hope that Uncle Herman gets the hint. "I hope frightfully, deadline and macabre will do the trick," she said.
"I'll get it, Mom," Mary said picking up the phone.
"Why don't you just talk to Uncle Herman on the phone?" Mary asked handing the handset to her mother.
"Herman?"
"My Melancholy Barbara! How are you?"
"Fine and you? Where are you calling from?" Barbara Melancholy asked pressing the speakerphone button.
"I'm up a tower in a palm swamp observing Freddie's friends. Listen."
"SQUAWK!"
"Really noisy."
"Yes, they just managed to chase an eagle away."
"I'd like you to talk to a friend of ours, Althea. She is writing about Freddie."
"Hello Herman this is Althea. Mary and I are doing a story about Freddie and we would like you to answer some questions. Could we fax them to you?"
"Sure. I have to cut this off now, the wind is beginning to come up and these towers sway like crazy."
"Okay Herman," Barbara said. "We'll send you a fax in about an hour."
"Thanks. I'll try to call you every week. Love to everyone. Bye."