We all jumped the minute we heard the honk, and our coffee spilled over the floor and sofa. I noticed that Miss Martha and Louis didn’t budge an inch and looked annoyed towards the kitchen door.

“What the he…eck, was that?” I exclaimed.

In a wise journalist maneuver, I caught myself about to say the ‘double hickey sticks’ in time.

“Probably the honk of a truck,” Louis said.

“Yes, I think you’re right, Louis.” Miss Martha said in a plain manner.

“Are you sure?” I asked, suspicious.

“What other possible explanation could there be?” Louis said, uneasy.

We then heard another loud honk and this time I could tell that it didn’t come from a truck.

I got up from the sofa and walked toward the kitchen door.

“Wait!” Miss Martha and Louis shouted and almost tackled me to the pink shag carpet.

“What is going on with you two?” I shouted.

Louis and Miss Martha blushed and got off me.

“We’re so sorry, Jessica,” Louis faltered. “Mom has a nice roast in the oven and we don’t want to spoil the surprise for you. We may have gotten carried away with that.”

“Okay, but what about the noise?”

“Oh, that’s the smoke detector in there. The batteries need to be replaced.” Miss Martha said.

She glanced at the kitchen door with a worried look on her face.

“Okay, that’s all right, but give me a warning the next time you tackle me; there won’t always be a shag carpet to cushion my fall.”

Miss Martha laughed uncomfortably while Louis took me back to the sofa.

“Let me get a paper towel to wipe up that spilled coffee.”

“May I help?”

“NO!” Miss Martha shouted, then composed herself, “Um, no thank you Jessica. I’ve got this.”

She ducked into the kitchen and closed the door after her; I could hear more honks and rapid shushes of someone else in there. After a moment of noisy clatters, it became silent again.

“Sorry about the noise,” Louis said. “We forgot to get new batteries. You know how it is.”

“Right Lou, it’s no problem.” I laughed, though inside I grew more doubtful.

I sat back down, my heart raced at an uncomfortable pace. Until now, Miss Martha, a kind, if not eccentric woman, didn’t read like the type of person who kept a wild flamingo in her house. However, the recent behavior from her and Louis made me unsure. For once, Mackenzie Billings’ insane-sounding suspicions seemed plausible.

When Miss Martha came back with the paper towels, my eyes caught on some material stuck to her yellow polka-dotted house dress. Without another thought, I plucked one of them and the sight of bright pink feathers stunned me.

“Oh, th-th-those are from a feather boa from Carnival several years ago.” Miss Martha stuttered.

“Yeah,” Louis interjected, “Dad liked to take us to those celebrations in his country.”

“If that’s the case, then why is a feather boa in your kitchen when your storage closet is out here?” I asked in a stern voice.

Miss Martha gulped and hugged the wall.

“W-we must have misplaced it in the pantry.”

Having put up with everything at this point, I asked the million-dollar question.

“Are these feathers from the flamingo you’re keeping?”

The tension in the living room could’ve been cut with a knife after I said that, and in that short span of time, my worries about Miss Billing’s wrath were overshadowed.