They were on their fourth and final day of surveillance duty. Of all the various tasks their employer assigned, surveillance was easily their least favorite. They had to sit around in a tree, watchi the same spot for days on end; it was anathema to the free-wheeling, fun–loving lives they had convinced themselves they led. Still, they weren’t prepared to openly revolt against their employer. Initially, they’d gone to task with admirable dedication. Over the four days, their concentration had mostly eroded.
“Ok, ok, next guy that comes through with a hat.”
“I’ll take it.”
“How much?”
“Just one.”
“Oh come on! We’re out here all day, don’t waste my time betting with one.”
“Fine, fine. Three.”
With a scraping of talons against bark, Pesta and Squip pushed acorns into a little knot in the branch. As one, they turned their heads almost all the way around and looked down. For a long moment, the sidewalk below remained stubbornly empty.
“Come on, papa needs a new…” Squip started, unsure how to finish the thought. The frogmouths were well taken care of by their employer. They didn’t necessarily want for anything.
“New pile of acorns?” Pesta offered.
Squip shrugged. “Sure.”
The sound of incoming footsteps clip-clopped on the pavement. The birds leaned forward. Tension blooming in the air. Even Boddy, as a bystander in this particular bet, could feel the anticipation swell.
Below, an older gentleman walked by whistling a jaunty tune. His thinning hair waved awkwardly with each step – no hat.
“Shoot!” Pesta said, shaking his shake.
“Oh ho!” Boddy exclaimed.
“There’s my darling!” Squip bobbed his head in excitement.
With a good-natured laugh, Pesta pushed the proffered acorns toward his partner. The gambling had started reasonably enough; the initial bets were related to the surveillance task. It had not stayed there.
The tree in which the three spies were perched sat in front of a chic townhouse in a tony downtown neighborhood. Their employer’s archrival lived here, and his nefarious doings were what garnered their surveillance duty.
Whatever was going on inside, their employer had to know. They’d been given a simple task – find an easy, unobtrusive way to enter the townhouse. They were given two very explicit instructions. First, do not enter for any reason. Their employer’s infiltration units would be far stealthier than birds of prey clanging around who-knows-what-kinds of machinery or archaiscientific equipment. Second, they were to keep a low profile. Translation: do not be seen.
For three days, they’d stayed mostly on task. But the frogmouths were birds of action as far as they were concerned. Plus, they felt they’d already accomplished their mission. There was a small bathroom window on the top floor of the house that hadn’t been closed in all the time they’d sat out there. The archrival might not even know it was there. It was the ideal entry point.
That’s where the trouble began. Giving the frogmouths four days to complete a job that only took three days was a recipe for trouble. And on the fourth day, they’d turned their minds from the task to more immediate matters.
“Let’s run it back,” Boddy said, pushing five acorns into the pot. “What’s the next bet?”
Pesta wiped his wing over his brow in mock nervousness. “Pushed in five, huh? Things are getting real now.”
“Gotta spend money to make money.”
The other two chuckled and counted out the ante. Each balanced on one foot and nudged their bet into the little knot in the branch. It was full to bursting.
“So what’s the bet?” Pesta asked
“Divebomb shower?” Squip suggested.
Boddy shook his head. “Too easy. We’ve already peed on four cars, two dogs and that cat who almost took your leg off.”
“He did not appreciate his role in that affair,” Pesta noted with a chuckle.
Just then, they heard a low whoosh above their heads. All three looked up through the yellow leaves that provided their cover. A Red Hawk, a beautiful female with pristine coloration on her underbelly feathers, arced lazily overhead. The spies looked on, entranced, as she circled the block once, then twice. Finally, she landed directly above the open window on the top floor of the archrival’s townhouse.
“Oh boy,” Pesta said, wiping his brow again with no irony.
“I’ll say.”
Boddy nodded and chirped. “Well that’ll do it.”
“What will do it?” Squip asked
“There’s your bet.”
“I’m not peeing on a girl,” Pesta said firmly. “Especially not one who looks like that.”
“No one’s peeing on anyone,” Boddy snipped. “We’re past that. Someone flies over there to get a date.”
Squip had been just a little more entranced than the others. He was more shy than either of them and always the least likely to step out of line on a mission. At the suggestion, his guilt clicked into place.
“Well, hang on,” he said. “She’s right over the window. And we really should get back to our job. We’ll be done in only a few hours.”
“Right. Done in a few hours, and we already have the intel,” Pesta had the bit in his teeth now. He licked a few of his feathers and awkwardly preened himself. Wings went up and out so his beak could dig into the hard-to-reach nooks and crannies.
“No, really, let’s drop it,” Squip said. “You can even keep my acorns. Let’s just get back to the job.” His nerves were blooming now, and he wasn’t sure if it was from guilt for the mostly forgotten job or the presence of the pretty girl.
“Squip, we’ve already completed the job. That’s the window they’re going to use.” Boddy sounded calm, composed. He always found the right tone to ease worry. “It’s all settled.”
“How do I look?” Pesta said. He stood up tall and puffed out his chest.
“Like something called a Frogmouth about to hit on a gorgeous Red Hawk,” Boddy quipped. “This I have got to see.”
“I’m going in. Don’t wait up, boys.” And with that, Pesta hopped off the branch. He angled away from the tree trunk, beat his wings to gain altitude and weaved over the sidewalk and yard to the townhouse roof.
“This is a bad idea,” Squip whispered as he watched his friend alight on the archrival’s townhouse. Pesta hopped toward the Hawk, and soon both were perched immediately above the open window.
“I’ll say,” Boddy agreed but for different reasons.
Boddy watched with growing delight and Squip with mounting concern as Pesta began a conversation. They couldn’t hear from this far away, but it showed earl promise. She’d been cool at first, but he’d elicited a laugh after a minute. It was actually going very well.
That didn’t last. He must have veered in the wrong direction because she puffed up having taken offense to something. He tried to backtrack, and evidently that only made it worse. She squawked and gave him a sturdy thump upside his head with her outstretched wing.
Pesta wasn’t ready for it. He only managed to half-duck, and the glancing blow knocked him toward the roof edge. A talon gripped the wrong spot and rolled out. Then all at once, he tumbled off the roof with a shriek of surprise.
Luckily, he’d fallen at a good angle. He was able to extend one wing, get his belly pointed down and both wings extended. Halfway to the ground, he caught the air and beat his wings with all his might to avoid a crash. Above him, the Red Hawk gave another warning squawk before taking off. She disappeared over the far side of the house.
Moments later, Pesta plopped onto the branch with a dull thump. He panted heavily and shook his head.
“Didn’t work,” he admitted.
“Oh no?” Boddy asked in an understated, offhand kind of way.
“I thought I had her impressed at the beginning. But then I-” he began to explain while rubbing the back of his head with his wingtips.
“Shhh!” Squip urged. His head had turned back toward the house, eyes focused on the top floor.
There was a sound coming from inside the house. A voice, maybe? Certainly it was coming from the other windows on the top floor. And then the archrival’s face appeared in the window, and he leaned out through the glassless frame into the sunshine.
He looked directly at their tree.
“We’re made!” Boddy hissed quietly. “Quick, act natural.”
Both he and Squip took up neutral faces. They pointed in different directions, enough to appear that they were looking away from the townhouse.
Pesta, however, put on a moronic grin and looked directly back at the archrival.
“Oh hell…” Boddy whispered when he saw Pesta.
“I panicked,” Pesta shot back through the side of his mouth, inexplicably holding his huge, dumb grin.
The archrival pulled his head back inside and vanished. Moments later, the small window pulled shut. It was pretty far away, so it’s possible they imagined the sound of a lock clicking into place.
“Oops,” Pesta said and slumped back against the trunk.
“Well that’s annoying.” Boddy was the king of understatement.
“Oh, it’s worse than that,” Squip said in a half-whine. “You know what this means.”
“Crap…” Pessta groaned as the pieces fell into place.
“More surveillance,” Boddy said aloud, realizing at the same time. He shook his head in frustration. “This is all your fault.”
Pesta was affronted. “How do you figure?”
“You were the one setting off avian fireworks outside the guy’s open windows!”
“You sent me over there!”
Squip was sullen, but he knew he shouldn’t let it last. For a few minutes, he tuned out the arguments of the others. They could find another perch somewhere down the street. It would be more work, and it might even take more than four days. But it was better than going back to their employer with a notice of failure and nothing else.
And it was a beautiful day. He was among friends. Idiot friends, there was no denying, but that wasn’t the worst kind. So he flicked the acorns from the knot back toward Pesta and Boddy.
“Alright. I’ll take the first dog in clothes,” he offered. “Two acorns.”
There were worse ways to make a living.
The Tall Tale Year 