In the Approaches. Nicola Barker

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I snort, then, ‘Yes. I am, actually. But he’ll probably be home again by now.’

      ‘You should go anyway, and if he is there, apologize. Make it heartfelt. It was an awful thing to do, Carla. He’ll think you’re completely unbalanced!’

      I grimace.

      ‘And after I told him – at such unbearable length – about what a dear little lamb you are!’ she murmurs, softening.

      I promptly baaaa (it’s automatic, semi-ironic, perfectly sincere). I have always – always – been Alys’s dear, little lamb.

      ‘Exactly!’ She chuckles. ‘But don’t just hang around in Fairlight pointlessly over-analysing everything like you normally do. Each second counts. Your honour is at stake here – and that of the entire community, by default,’ she adds.

      Great. No pressure then. I solemnly inspect the rivulets of water trickling drably – incessantly, wetly – down the windowpane. Of course she is right. Alys invariably is. I will go. I was angry. I was wrong. I have behaved like a maniac. I am at a moral disadvantage. It simply won’t do.

      I draw a deep breath and steel myself, preparing to say my goodbyes, but am momentarily distracted by an unexpected rumble – very low, like a long, metal snake of conjoined supermarket trolleys being pushed, some distance away, across a wide expanse of tarmac. Oh God, I recognize that sound! My skin instantly starts to prickle its automatic response (Quick! Run, Carla, run!). Seconds later (and I haven’t even shifted by so much as a centimetre) – pouf! – my garden shed evaporates.

       Teobaldo

      Baldo! Baldo! Baldo! Baldo! WAH!

       WAH!

      ‘Sun’ near ‘cage’! Yay! ‘Sun’ near ‘cage’! Look at ‘sun’! Joy! Blink! Look at ‘sun’! Near ‘cage’. Happy. Happy ‘sun’. Rock, rock, rock. Happy!

      Hup! Whassat? Eh? Ooogh! Ooogh! Oooooogh …! Urgh! Big poo! Aaah. Aaaah! Good.

      Where’d it go?

      Eh?

      Twizzle head.

      Eh?

      Where’d poo go?

      Ah!

      Look! Look!

      ‘Seed bowl’!

      Yay!

      Baldo crap in ‘seed bowl’! Baldo crap in ‘seed bowl’!

      Yay!

      ‘Sun’ near ‘cage’. Happy! Happy ‘sun’! Crap all done. Aaaah! Happy moment. Happy moment. Crap done. In bowl.

      Now what?

      Wanna fly! Wanna fly! Wanna fly!

      Nest. Where’s nest? Why no nest? Wanna nest. Baldo find ‘twig’. Baldo find ‘straw’. Baldo find soft, soft, soft … Wanna fly! No. No. No fly. No nest. Sad. Sad moment. Sad Baldo.

       Whassat?!

      Itch! Urgh! Itch! Itch! ITCH!!! Gotta … gotta … Oooh! Yeah. Yeah …

      Scratch, scratch, scratch. Feather, feather, feather! Look! Soft feather down like grey snow! Good! Good for nest. Oh. No. No nest.

      Poor Baldo.

       Hmmn.

      ‘Room’.

      ‘Cage’. ‘Chair’. ‘Lamp’. ‘Dresser’. ‘Ceiling’. No sky! ‘Ceiling’. No sky! Dead sky. Gone sky. Can’t … can’t …! No sky!

      Wanna fly.

      Sad moment.

      Whassat? ‘Sun’! Baldo, look! See ‘sun’!

      Getting closer!

       Joy!

       Baldo! Baldo! Baldo! Baldo!

      Hmmn.

      Egg.

      Why no egg?

      Why no nest?

       Bounce! Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!

      Baldo! Baldo! Baldo! Baldo! Wah! Wah! WAH!

      Oh … Uh-oh … Here she comes, here she comes. Jailer! Bitch! Here she comes! Bow, deep bow. Respectful. Deep bow. Baldo, Baldo, Baldo, Baldo …

      Away she goes again! Gone. Gone! Lonely Baldo. Ruffle feathers. Where’s the …?

      ‘Mirror’! Ring the ‘bell’! Look in ‘mirror’!

      WAH!

      Look! Look! Whosat? Whosat? Spirit parrot! Whosat? Eye! Evil! Beak! Sharp! Dead parrot! Ghost parrot! Whosat?

       WAH!

       Ruuuun!

      Wanna fly! Wanna fly! Wanna fly!

      Escape!

      Huh?

      Whassat?! Roar! Waterfall! Thunder! It’s the screaming monster! YAAARGH! She’s back! Bitch is back! She’s got the metal monster! Horrible! Horrible! Waterfall! Storm! Thunder! Death! Terrible roar! Angry monster! Hungry monster! Under ‘chair’! Under ‘little table’! Bitch is riding the metal monster! Under ‘cage’! … WAH!

      Wanna fly! Wanna fly! Wanna fly!

      Can’t! Can’t!

      Rock, rock, rock, rock. Fear! Fear! Fear!

      Where?

       Where?!

      Run down the ‘perch’! Jump into the ‘bowl’! Throw out the food. Sod off! Go! Scram! Take that! Take that! Hah! WAH!

      Yay!

      Sudden quiet! Brave Baldo! Clever Baldo! Dead monster!

       Preen!

      ‘Teobaldo! **** **! *** Teobaldo! ******!’

      [‘Teobaldo! Stop it! Bad Teobaldo! Enough!’]

      Yes! That’s me!

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