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What better way, Edwin told himself, to spend an idle spring Sunday, when London's low houses are illuminated by soft sunlight and the streets grow silent, than by rereading his favorite anatomy book of mythological and supernatural creatures? Edwin thus took the tome - a hardcover volume, the illustration on the front and back now faded from the rubbing of Edwin's gloved hands - from the bookshelf in his study, sat down at his desk and turned the pages with a satisfied moan.
Meanwhile, loud music came from the room adjoining the study:
If I, I get to know your name
Well, if I could trace your private number, baby
All I know is that to me you look like you’re lots of fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
I want some, want some
I set my sights on you
(And no one else will do)
And I, I’ve got to have my way now, baby
Edwin tried to ignore the music by concentrating on the book, but no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to the meticulous descriptions of vivisections of monsters, a subject that generally had an easy grip on him, the boy could not isolate himself from the din.
“Could you at least turn down the volume of this cacophony?” asked Edwin after walking briskly and purposefully to the other room where Charles had turned on the music.
“Cacophony?” repeated Charles, his eyes incredulous. “That, mate,” continued the teenager in a scolding tone, “is the hit of Dead or Alive, a cult band of my generation and the entire history of music.” To emphasize his words, Charles turned the computer screen he was using toward Edwin and pointed with his hand to the number of views of the song, which exceeded 280 millions.
“I would like to improve my scientific background,” Edwin replied in a dry tone, not at all impressed by Charles's words, “and the chaos you are causing prevents me from doing so.”
“Why don't you drop that dusty old book and search the Internet for more up-to-date material?”
“On the Internet, a tool created by humans, you can't find any valid information about the supernatural. And besides,” Edwin was careful to point out, making the heels of his shoes click between them like a little boy scout about to say the pledge, "There is no volume that can make the contents of this manual obsolete."
“Who knows, you might be surprised,” replied Charles turning the screen back to himself. “For example, a tweet I read a little while ago suggested some kind of social experiment that you could contribute to.”
“Really? What exactly would that be about?” asked Edwin as he walked curiously to Charles's side.
“One moment, let me find it...” said Charles as he scrolled through a very long list of posts he had interacted with, hundreds that morning alone “Here!”
“You know how the convenience foods you buy in the supermarket today,” Edwin read, “contain a heavy concentration of ingredients? For example, a taco can be made from dozens and dozens of corn kernels that are crushed and made into a flour that is then cooked. The corn flavor you get when you eat a taco is very strong and intense...”
Charles chuckled in anticipation, preparing for the reaction Edwin would have when he got to the bottom of the text.
“So I wonder, how would a child of the early 1900s react to tasting a ready-to-eat food? It would be the first time he would eat such a rich food. Would he like it or would he feel sick, his mouth unable to comprehend such an intense flavor?”
Edwin lowered his eyes to Charles, his gaze full of indignation.
“Do you seriously want to lend me to test this nonsense?”
“It's a serious question! Watch this response video.”
Charles clicked on the video showing a man in 1920s Paris drinking a glass of Coca Cola for the first time: he is so stunned by the carbon dioxide the drink contains that he vomits the drink, his face contracted into a grimace of disgust.
Meanwhile, You Spin Me Round continued to play in the background:
You spin me right ‘round, baby
Right ‘round like a record, baby
Right ‘round, ‘round, ‘round
Interspersed with a sound like something rasping on a surface.
“Firstly, I cannot taste. You should know that, Charles. Secondly, I don't remember the bodily sensations I felt when I was alive in the early 20th century. Thirdly -- Ugh, will you turn off this music? It doesn't allow me to concentrate, especially with all this rasping.”
“That rasping is not in the song,” Charles observed, “it's coming from the studio.” Edwin and Charles exchanged a look of understanding and went into the other room.
There they found a parrot-a small bird with plumage on most of his body as light green as the palm trees that shade the oases of his native continent, Africa, while his feathers turned red around his beak, which was also red; his eyes were two small black dots and shone with a viscous light, charged with curiosity and joie de vivre. The parrot hopped from the desk to the bookcase shelves producing the faint rasping sound that Charles and Edwin had heard as it alternated jumps apparently to the rhythm of the refrain of You Spin Me Round.
“How did he get in? The windows are closed.”
“He's a ghost, he simply walked through the walls as we do too.”
“Can animals become ghosts too?”
“It's rare,” Edwin explained. “They have to have some unfinished business, and that can happen especially in companion animals, as this parrot is.” Edwin approached the bird by cupping his hands together. The parrot promptly jumped on them, continuing to paw in time with the music. “He belongs to the species known by the scientific name Agapornis, commonly called as ‘lovebird’ because of the strong monogamous bond it forms with its partner. In addition, it is often kept as a pet bird. When an animal with this disposition dies, it often does not go to the afterlife unless it has first taken leave of its partner or owner.”
“How did this one end up here then?”
“He probably passed away recently and, frightened, must have run away from his home and got lost. He must have then come here perhaps because he was attracted by the fact that we are also ghosts.”
Charles approached Edwin, waving his fingers above the parrot's head.
“Would you like it if we found his home for him? I know we have a list of criteria to follow in deciding when to accept a case, but...”
“I had already decided to help him,” said Edwin.
“I love you when you're so generous” asked Charles with a wry smile on his lips. He enjoyed teasing Edwin when the latter showed his more sentimental side, a part of him that the boy usually tried to hide behind a mask of impenetrable stoicism and intransigent rationality.
“I don't want to abandon a spirit that has gone astray after passing away,” Edwin replied without noticing Charles's amused smile.
“That's the way I want you, mate,” Charles told him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.
“Let's go,” proposed Edwin, his cheeks barely flushed with red. Charles assented and turned off the computer, while Edwin put on a light coat, after which they left their apartment to go down the street. Once out the gate of their apartment building, they followed the street that ran through their neighborhood. The sidewalks were packed with people out for a walk, while others crowded the stores and bars in the area.
“If he died recently, it can't have gone too far from its home, right?” reflected Charles.
“Correct observation,” said Edwin as he stroked one wing of the parrot, which had remained docile on his hands. “With this modest wingspan he wouldn't be able to travel many meters, so it is safe to assume that he moves over areas familiar to him. His owner should live in this same neighborhood.”
“Let's try checking the pet store across the street. Maybe he died there.”
The boys crossed the street and entered the store by passing through the walls and remaining invisible to the living people there.
“How I hate to see animals in cages,” Charles said disgustedly as he looked at the caged animals while groups of boys and girls crowded in front of the cages of some species - dogs, cats and rabbits - while others, such as the larger birds and older dogs stood at the corners of their cages, ignored by most.
“Humans presume to dominate everything and everyone, and this arrogance of theirs is especially expressed in their relationship with animals,” agreed Edwin.
The boy detectives snuck into the backroom, the place where the shopkeepers were most likely to have brought the corpse of a dead parrot, but found nothing. They therefore left the store when the excited bird escaped from Edwin's hands and flew to the other side of the street.
“Wait,” Edwin and Charles shouted after him.
They walked heedlessly through the passing cars on the street and reached the other side and saw the parrot enter the window of the top-floor apartment. They also heard the refrain of You Spin Me Round:
You spin me right ‘round, baby
Right ‘round like a record, baby
Right ‘round, ‘round, ‘round
Edwin and Charles climbed to the top floor and entered the apartment through the same window that the bird had passed through. They found themselves in a high-ceilinged room with walls covered with bookshelves filled with volumes. In the center of the room they saw a man of about 50 standing near a desk, and on it was the ghost of the bird and another parrot, the latter living. Also on the desk was a stereo playing You Spin Me Round.
“Sleep sweet dreams, Spike, my friend,” said the man directed to a wrapper he held in his hands. It was a handkerchief wrapped around the parrot's body. The man stroked it with his fingers as if he were cradling a small child. He also swayed as if dancing to the notes of the song, while the second parrot hopped from the desk to the shelves as Spike had done earlier in the study.
“Susi and I will miss you so much,” said the man whispering to the little bird in his hands, his face streaked with tears. “But you go, be free: we will be fine and always remember you.”
Spike's ghost hopped between the desk and the shelves as if he had understood. The room lit up with a bluish glow.
“He accomplished his unfinished business,” Edwin said, resting his hand on Charles's shoulder. The latter was crying and his body was shaken by his sobs. “Now Death is coming to take him with her. He will be fine, don't worry about him. But we cannot be found here or Death will also take us away with Her,” Edwin said softly, putting his arm around Charles' shoulder. The latter nodded and followed him to the terrace of the apartment building.
Charles cried for a while longer, while Edwin discreetly wiped away his tears. After calming down, Charles said:
“He must have come to us because he was attracted by the song and the bookshelves,” Charles observed. “He must have thought it was his home.”
“Yeah,” Edwin confirmed dryly.
“I'm glad we at least kept him company after he died,” Charles said. “Like you did with me. It made all the difference to me.”
With that said, Charles kissed Edwin on the cheek again.