Chapter Eight Fax from Uncle Herman
It had been two days since they had sent the fax to Uncle Herman. Mary heard the clacking as she opened the back door. She dropped her school bag and rushed into her mother's office. The machine had just stopped printing. She could not have failed to notice it, in any case. Freddie Fudge was a constant reminder.
Ficksss! Ficksss! Ficksss! Squawk!
Mary retrieved the message and brought it into the kitchen where her mother was putting on the finishing touches before sliding their dinner into the oven.
"Why don't you read it to me," her mother said. "I want to get this lasagna into the oven or we’ll never eat."
"Okay, here goes, Mom. Oh…. wait a sec,"
Mary reached into her school bag and retrieved her pen and the steno pad that Mrs. Tweedlebare had given her.
"My dear, Melancholy Barbara," she began. "Mom why does Uncle Herman always call you that? Does he think that we are Chinese or something? In Chinese, the surname comes first you know."
"I am aware of that," her mother said. "Uncle Herman is just trying to be cute. When he says, My Melancholy Barbara, he is referring to a song. It’s called an allusion."
Mary began anew. Thanks for the fax. After a twelve-hour slog through the bog, it was most pleasant to come home and find your message on my desk. The good news is that I have just about finished my assignment here and will be flying north soon for a break. I will phone you from Los Angeles.
I’m glad Freddie Fudge is settling in okay. José Sanchez, the policeman, who had to give Freddie up, is back with us. He says that he had Freddie for about six months. He believes Freddie is about seven years old. He sends his love to Freddie. He called him Pi-ombee. The Matses, local Indians, say Pi-ombee for thank you. Jose says that he named him that because Freddie was good company and he was grateful to have company in the jungle.
He says to tell Freddie that he is fine now. The doctors in Lima took out a piece of steel from near his heart. The doctors up here did not want to risk the operation. José tells me that he found the parrot half starved in a shack on the Matanza River about forty miles north of Manu. That is why Freddie says Matanza all the time. The local Indians told José that the shack had been occupied for a while by a group who claimed to be members of the El Sendero Luminoso, a Peruvian terrorist group.
What they were doing so far from home beats me. Of course the Indians would not tell us much, as the reputation of the Sendero Luminoso, had proceeded them you might say. It is probable that the people in the shack were refugees but acted like they were members of the Sendero Luminoso so that no one would bother them. Shi-ta-chit is a long wrinkly leaf that is a very powerful anaesthetic. Mention of the Shi-ta-chit reminds me that I have to get to sleep. I just can't keep my eyes open a moment longer. I will send you another fax just as soon as I wake up. Love to everyone from Uncle Herman.
p.s. El Sendero Luminoso means Shining Path. They are a terrorist group but they only operate where there are settlements. They would never bother us in the jungle. I think the gang that had Freddie was on the run from the cops or maybe even from the Sendero Luminoso itself. L. U. H.
"Isn't that just a little bit of loveliness," Mary said.
"You remember, Uncle Herman saying that do you?" her mother commented.
"How could I forget?" Mary answered. "He said it all the time."
"We will probably have to wait until tomorrow morning to get his second fax," her mother said,
"This is really frustrating," Mary added.
"I know it is but my mind has been put at rest already," her mother said in a confident tone.
"I think we should invite Mrs. Tweedlebare to dinner, Mary said suddenly. "I know that she would want to know right away about Uncle Herman and she does love lasagna."
"How do you know that?"
"How could anyone fail to love your lasagna, Mom?" Mary said slyly.
"Phone her then. It is awfully short notice though. Be sure to tell her about the fax."
"I will be diplomatic," Mary said picking up the Ferrari phone on the kitchen counter.
"You had better get busy and set the table then, hadn't you?" Mary's mother commented as Mary was about to hang up.
Small Paul tugged at the Ferrari. "Me park. Me park. "Farri in gadge, Mom."
"Thank you, Small Paul," his mother said.
"We will use our best china tonight," the mother said. "Seeing as Mrs. Tweedlebare is coming over."
"Tweedy Bear," Small Paul said running off to tell Freddie Fudge.
‘Tweedy Tweedy Tweedy Squawk!'
Just as they were finishing dessert, a second fax arrived.
Finally had time to sit for a spell on the porch and watch the river go by. Had a lovely nap and am now feeling okay. The river is really beginning to rip. The wet season is just starting. That is the bad news. The good news is that I am flying out just as soon as all my specimens are packed for shipping. We have discovered some exciting new plant species that have great potential for helping people in all kinds of ways. Of course the Matses Indians have known about these plants for hundreds if not thousands of years. I am supposed to arrive in Vancouver from Los Angeles on Air Canada flight 391 on Friday, December 20. ETA is 1500 hours. Please meet the plane. Love from Uncle Herman.
Mrs. Tweedlebare was in a foul mood. She did her best to keep her feelings disguised. She and Mary had chased the story until it had turned into a case that seemed to require brilliant detective work on her part and with all the makings of a good story for Mary to work on. Now, this was all shot to heck and back again. The whole effort had been for nothing. Uncle Herman was safe.