Good old Rum
Pelicanus was stalking me again. He used all kinds of gadgets like a telescope and a pair of binoculars to keep track of all my movements. Whenever I happen to glance his way, he put up a big show of pretending to be nonchalantly busy with something else. He feigned a sudden all-encompassing interest in a flowering potplant next to the balcony when I turned around suddenly to look at him directly. He would leopard crawl from tree to tree when I ventured outside. Now, have you ever seen an overweight pelican leopard crawl? Not? Well, don’t even try to imagine it. The sight is nauseating to say the least. Ronda thought it tremendously funny and would giggle deliciously when she saw Pelicanus’s big rump stuck in the air as he slithered forward in the tall grass. I even suspected Pelicanus of eavesdropping because he kept fidgeting with something that looked like a cross between bunny ears and a headset. He was furiously scribbling in a small notebook he kept in his pocket. Pelicanus had turned out to be a real 007 wannabe…. and a real pain in the butt.
A flurry of wings had me look up just in time to see darling Countess Flammy Flamenco arrive in her usual dizzy kind of half-landing, half crashing. She came up sporting a huge grin and waving a pink and purple feather hat. “Coo-ee, Reggie!” she croaked in that well-known nicotine flavored tone of hers. She had come to inspect my lady love, she said. Ronda smiled beguilingly at Flammy and complimented her on her brightly painted toe nails. Flammy was instantly hooked. Anyone who could appreciate the finer art of having orange toe nails was a friend of hers, she announced and unearthed a huge flask of rum from her traveling bag. She unscrew the lid, took a big swallow and offered it to Ronda who didn’t even blink an eye when she brought the flask to her own lip stick stained beak and followed Flammy’s example. A friendship had just been sealed with a swig of good old rum, I realized happily.