Chapter 21

“Let me just finish up my segment, folks, and we’ll get started,” Otis is saying while Bisquick jumps from Margot’s shoulder to the turntable. Otis is already onto his next program; something called Otis Cries for You. It’s a concept that only Otis could invent, meaning it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. He invites people to send in their saddest blogs and he commiserates by crying. The blogs and emails have been coming in all morning.

“This one’s a corker,” he says. “A woman in Rocksmith just lost her dog. Came face to face with a cement truck. You know who wins in circumstances like that, ma’am. I feel your hurt. You keep your chin up. Chester’s in a better place.” Otis chokes back a sob, and then wipes his eyes. “I hope you folks will continue to share your sad tales,” he says. “We’ll get back to them at two o’clock. Meanwhile, let’s bring a little smiley face to your day with Bisquick, the talking Mynah birdie.”

Otis pulls a chair over for Margot. “So, Margot,” he says. “You’ve only had Bisquick a few days, I hear. First impressions?”

“He’s a wonderful bird,” she says. “His language isn’t the greatest, but that’s the fault of his former owner.”

Bisquick jumps over onto Otis’s big stomach. He bobs up and down.

“Friendly thing,” Otis says.

“He’s going for your nipple.”

“Why would he go for my—ouch! Ouch!”

“Don’t jerk around. He thinks you’ve got a berry.”

“A berry? Ouch!”

“Bisquick, bad bird.”

“Son of a bitch—ouch!”

Margot tries pulling Bisquick away. He keeps hanging on to Otis’s nipple and flapping his wings. Ruby comes out of the laundry room with folded shirts. “What are you doing to that bird, Otis?” she says.

“I’m not doing anything! He’s got my nipple!”

“Bisquick thinks he’s got a berry under his shirt,” Margot says.

“Want me to get him some blueberries?”

“Do something!” Otis yells. He falls off his chair, bringing Bisquick down with him. Wings flap, Ruby laughs, and Max has to take the controls.

“We’ll be back with more Bisquick in a minute, folks,” Max says. “Meanwhile, send in your saddest stories. We’ll read ’em right here at two o’clock, four o’clock and six o’clock on The Rec Room of Sound.”

Ruby comes back downstairs with some blueberries. Bisquick jumps right in the bowl. “All he wants is a berry,” Ruby says.

“Like hell,” Otis says below the turntables. His head appears, hair disheveled. He gets back in his chair and moves his lips around trying to get his dentures back in place. “Okay,” Otis sighs, rubbing his nipple. “Is that bird gonna talk or just grab my thingies?”

“Tell Otis what I taught you, Bisquick,” Margot says. “Come on. What did Joey always say? Joey says? Joey says?”

“Get—get that thing away from me,” Otis says, swatting Bisquick. “Bird’s got a one track mind. Go peck someone else’s nipple.”

“He really likes yours,” Margot says.

“So did Max when he was a baby,” Ruby laughs

“You didn’t have to say that on air,” Max says.

“Don’t scratch my records, you stupid bird,” Otis says. “Can’t you cage this thing, Margot?” Margot opens the cage door but Bisquick isn’t interested. “Come on, Bisquick,” she says.

“Do like your mama tells you,” Otis says.

“He’s wants more berries.”

“Ruby, go get him some berries.”

“I’ve got laundry to do, Otis.” Margot starts helping Ruby fold sheets.

Otis cues up a record. “Here’s a favorite of mine called ‘Hungry for Your Love’ by Joe Perkins,” he says. “Listen away while I find this dang bird something besides my gibblies. More Bisquick coming your way at the top of the hour, so stick around.”

Muller and I are upstairs watching on Ruby’s computer. The latest batch of brownies has just come out of the oven. Downstairs, Bisquick says “cocksucker” every time Joe Perkins hits a high note. Otis comes into the kitchen rubbing his right nipple. “Bird’s wearing out its welcome,” he says, grabbing a brownie.

Ruby and Margot bring up the laundry. Max follows with Bisquick on his shoulder, bobbing up and down. He jumps on the counter and goes after the brownie crumbs. “You’re gonna have one sick bird in a minute,” Otis says.

“Why?” Margot says.

“Them brownies aren’t to be trifled with.”

“What’s he on about?” Margot asks Ruby.

“They’re grass brownies,” Ruby says. “Have one.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“Margot,” I say.

“Oh, go fly a kite, Sam.”

“Dang bird’s going after my nipple again,” Otis says. “What’s his problem? You train him to do that?”

“Not me,” Margot says.

“Get away from my brownie, damn you,” Otis swats at Bisquick. “Go lie down or something.”

“Bird’s don’t lie down,” Margot says.

“He chewed off a corner of my brownie.”

“They don’t chew, either.”

“Look at that little bastard.”

“He sure loves brownies,” Max says.

“I don’t know about putting a stoned bird on air,” Otis says, popping the last of the brownie in his mouth. “Probably get us both arrested. Fuck it. Come on, bird. Try to keep your language civil.”

As soon as Otis sits down, Bisquick jumps over to the screen, pecking at his own image. “Go on now,” Otis says to him. “You’re not on yet.” He swats at Bisquick pecking at the stylus again. “Before I put this bird back on, I got a few emails that need immediate attention. I read a message earlier from Emma out in Peoria. Her husband left her a few weeks ago—”

“Asshole,” Bisquick says.

“I just want to say, we’re pulling for you, Emma”—fist to the mouth—“just like we’re pulling for all of you—”

“Sauna,” Bisquick says.

“Button it.”

“Gimme some tit action.”

“For those of you just joining us,” Otis says, “I’ve been interviewing Bisquick. He’s a Mynah bird. I’ll try interviewing him again after a musical interlude. This one goes out to all you folks living with a broken heart called, ‘I Never Loved a Man as Much as I Love You.’ If anyone has any pearls of wisdom for Emma, just blog here. I’ll read them out later.” Bisquick and Otis are both staring at the screen.

“Ain’t that sweet,” Margot laughs, picking crumbs off her shirt. “Bless his little heart. He sure loves performing, doesn’t he, Sam?”

“He certainly does.”

Margot finishes her brownie and licks her fingers. “He’s almost as smart as Joey,” she says. “I want to thank you for all this, Sam. I’m having fun.”

“I’m glad, Margot.”

“How much did Bisquick cost, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Not as much as you’d think.”

“Well, it was a wonderful gesture, Sam.”

We look at Otis and Bisquick staring at us on Ruby’s computer. Bisquick jumps over on the stylus as the song ends.

“And to think all that personality comes out of a brain the size of a pea,” Margot says.

“Otis or Bisquick?”

“Probably both.”

The record jumps. Bisquick is pecking the stylus. “Get off there,” Otis says. Bisquick drops down on the record and rotates.