“Will you shut up! I’m so sorry about that noise, Mr. Lawrence. The damn bird repeats everything he hears. We can’t get him to stop.”
Her point was made when her voice emerged from the other room, shouting. “Will you shut up!”
Mr. Lawrence smothered a laugh. “I can see that. He certainly has a knack for imitation.”
“You’ve no idea.” The elderly Mrs. May rolled her eyes and led the way down the hall. They passed the parrot in his cage on their way to the kitchen. Mr. Lawrence did his best to get a good look at the exotic bird without stopping. He had heard of birds from the south that could imitate human voices and even speech, but he had never seen one until now. He made an effort to stifle his curiosity as his hostess marched on to the kitchen.
“This is my niece, Ada,” Mrs. May gestured limply with one arm to the pretty blonde sitting at the kitchen table peeling potatoes. “Ada, this is Mr. Lawrence. He’s going to be boarding with us for a few months.”
“Hello,” said Ada as she looked up briefly from her work to greet the new guest. It was just long enough for Mr. Lawrence to notice her rosy cheeks and blue eyes that sparkled as they greeted him before they were hidden by her lids as she looked down again.
“Ada, what did I tell you about playing with the Gramophone when I’m out?”
“That only you are allowed to use it,” Ada responded promptly without pausing her work.
“Then why was that damn bird singing when we came in just now?”
This time Ada did pause in her work and her eyes widened as she looked straight ahead of her.
“Ha! I knew that bird would be useful for more than just showing off. I don’t want to hear it again. Not until I’ve had a chance to play my records.”
“Yes, Aunt Estelle.”
“Good. Now that’s settled, let me show you to your room, Mr. Lawrence.”
Mr. Lawrence got settled easily enough. Ada served him breakfast in the morning before he left for his new job at the law firm. When he returned in the evenings, the bird would always sing at him until he greeted it, at which point it would throw his own greeting right back at him with a perfect imitation of his own voice. The beauty of the music never ceased to amaze him and he wondered which singer it was imitating. He had never heard anything like it before.
One day Mr. Lawrence came home a little early. When he greeted the bird, the singing stopped. He waited to hear his own voice, but it never came. Poking his head into the hallway, he found the birdcage missing.
He continued down the hall to find Ada in the kitchen. “What happened to the bird?”
“What?” Ada looked up from the tub where she was washing dishes. “Oh, Aunt Estelle took him to show to old Mrs. Dubois. She isn’t well enough to leave her house, so Aunt Estelle said she’d take the bird to her.”
“Oh, I see. So, you’ve been playing the Gramophone again?”
Ada made a point of looking around the kitchen. “Where?”
Mr. Lawrence surveyed the kitchen. There was no sign of a Gramophone. “I could have sworn I heard music when I came in. It sounded just like the bird.”
Ada shrugged as best she could with both hands immersed in the bucket of water before her. Mr. Lawrence turned to leave before an idea struck him and he turned back around.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
“What was?”
“The music.”
“Me? Don’t be daft. It was your imagination. That’s all.” Her eyes remained firmly fixed on her work and she started washing the dishes more vigorously.
“It was you. Why won’t you own up to it? It’s so beautiful!”
Ada sighed. “Aunt Estelle doesn’t like it when I sing. She says it’s the devil’s work.”
“The devil’s work? How can the devil’s work possibly be so beautiful?”
“She says it’s his way of trying to lead me astray. But it brings me comfort and helps the time pass, so I wait for her to leave and then I sing.”
“But that’s terrible! Hiding your voice from the world like that should be the sin.”
Ada shrugged and continued her washing.
“There must be some way to change her mind.”
“You’re welcome to try, but I’ve been trying for seven years now and this is what I have to show for it: a singing parrot.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“Oh no!” Ada almost dropped the bowl she was washing. “Please don’t. If she knew you’d heard me, she’d be furious. Please. This must stay between us.”
“But it’s such a gift. To–”
“Please!”
“All right.” He held up his hands and bowed his head in surrender. “All right, if that is your wish.”
“Thank you. It is.” She bent back over the washbowl and resumed her work.
“Where did you learn to sing like that?” Having mollified her, he relaxed and leaned against the door frame.
“My mother. She and Aunt Estelle never got along, which is part of why she doesn’t like it when I sing.”
“How long have you been living with your aunt?”
“Seven years.”
“You can’t have been more than a child.”
“I was twelve.”
“Your mother died?”
Ada nodded.
“Mine too.”
Ada looked up.
“I was eight. She got sick and …”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry about yours.”
Ada nodded and they heard the front door open and shut, followed by a woman’s voice saying, “”We’ll lick them yet.”
It was soon followed by Aunt Estelle’s familiar refrain: “Will. You. Shut. Up.”
Mr. Lawrence and Ada exchanged a look as they both tried to suppress laughter. They listened as Mrs. May put the bird away and made her way down the hall to them. They greeted her and then continued about their day, as though nothing had changed. Certainly nothing to do with any singing.