PROLOGUE

         The Bells were a strange family. Not that I knew them that well, mind you. I'd lived next door for just a few years and from what the neighbors told me, the husband seemed quite hen-pecked. I'd see him sitting in front of the window as I walked by, just staring into space. She was always there, constantly nagging at him, pulling and pushing, wanting her way. I often wondered why he put up with it, seeing as how he was such a sweet, mild-mannered sort.

            Well, there's no telling what goes on behind closed doors.  Things are never what they seem.  I often said to my husband, George, "I wonder what's really going on over there.  I'd give my eye teeth to be a fly on their wall."

            And, of course, there was the uncle.  My God, what a mouth he had on him.  He'd hurl foul epithets at me whenever I walked past their place - all kinds of bad language.  I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such abuse, and I often thought about calling the authorities to complain, but I never did.  It was him, you see - the husband.  Such a quiet, thoughtful type.  I always felt kind of sorry for him, having to put up with that constant nagging.  He looked as if he was just pining for some peace and quiet.

            Oh, and did I tell you about the brother?  You won't believe this.  Yes, she had a brother.  A twin.  Looked just like her, too.  What's that you say?  Yes, I know brother and sister twins aren't identical, but these two came close enough.  Same bone structure and features to be identical.  Sometimes, when I glanced through their window, I couldn't tell who was who.  Seriously, if you don't believe me, ask George.

            They seemed to have the same temperament too.  Always arguing and carrying on.   You could hear them across the street and down the block sometimes.  Just the three of them, mind you.  Not the husband.  Never heard a peep out of him.  And messy?  Oh my God, you should have seen the trash that piled up around their place.  Not that I'm nosy, but it was hard to avoid noticing the muck they left lying around.  I was so tempted to report them for the noise and the mess they made, but I never did.  I'm not what you'd call a "nosy neighbor," – just ask George, he'll tell you.

            What?  You want to know the point of all this?  Well, hold on. I'm not finished yet.  Something really awful happened to that family.  There was an accident.  Actually, it was a double accident.  I don’t know the details, but there was a lot of hollering going on one morning.  The hubby had just come home from somewhere or other, and apparently he found them.

            Who?  Oh, the wife and the uncle.  Seems they'd had an accident of some type.  I don't know exactly what it was.  I was never really close enough to them to find out what happened.  But there was a lot of rushing around and screaming, and then silence.  Nothing.  I often wondered if the uncle and wife had tried to murder each other, but none of the neighbors knew anything.  I did ask around, but I couldn't find out the details.

            I was really tempted to go over there and ask if everything was all right, but I was afraid of intruding.  You know me, I keep to myself.  Anyway, after a few days I saw him at the window. He was just standing there, staring outside, with a strange look on his face.  There was someone behind him.  I could barely make out the face, and I couldn’t tell you if it was Hildy – that's his wife, you know – or her twin brother, DJ.  From across the street, they both looked the same to me.

            All right, I'm getting to it.  Hold on, will you?  So after a few weeks I began to get worried.  It was really quiet over there.  No more screams or shouting.  No more abusive cat-calls when I walked past.  I didn't see the uncle or the twin again…just the quiet hubby and the other twin.  Quiet as could be – always sitting side by side – talking intently to each other.  Well, it seemed as if they were in close conversation from my viewpoint next door.  It was really weird.  Well, I know that's not much of a story.  What do you want?   You think I should go over there and knock on their door?  Ask them what happened?  Not me.  I like the quiet these days.  I'm not one to poke my nose in where it's not wanted. 

*****

                                                                                                          STRANGE BEDFELLOWS

              Philip, nicknamed "Pip" by those family members close to him, looked around the main living room with tear-filled eyes. Could it only have been a month since she had left?  It seemed impossible to believe that she had really gone.  Gone forever.  At first he had thought it was a mistake.  That she would be returning before too long.  But he had to face facts.  The mate he had lived with for what seemed forever had been overcome by fumes from a faulty floor heater and was dead.  And so was Uncle Chester.  

            His wife and uncle had shared the same room while Pip was away for the night, and by the time the light of day had filtered weakly into the room, the pair of them were gasping for air.  Unable to stand, on the verge of death, they had both been taken to the local emergency room.  After frantic attempts by medics to revive them, the two breathed their last and were gone forever.

            As Pip gazed with unseeing eyes through the picture window of his living room, the beautiful red-tiled patio, complemented by tubs of green shrubs and flowers, were beyond his line of vision.  His eyes were sad and his mind far away.  His shoulders drooped with despair and resignation.  Life didn't seem worth living any more - not without her.  Hildy had been his soul-mate, his lover, his wife.  Mother of his four children, she had remained youthful and vibrant with her beautiful coloring and bright eyes.  

            He could recollect every moment he had spent with her over the past twelve years, all those days and nights of closeness.  Sometimes almost too close, he thought, reflecting back. Hildy had been very needy, never letting him out of her sight, always touching him – holding onto him.   Still, he'd put up with it.  No use in trying to change her personality after all those years, he'd decided.  Anything for a quiet life.

            He remembered when they'd first met.  It had been a formal introduction and she'd taken to him at once.  He'd had no chance once she'd set her eyes on him.  Before he'd known what hit him, they were a couple and after only a year, the babies had come.

            Pip smiled to himself as he recalled the birth of his children.  He'd always been a devoted father, making sure they were fed and kept warm, watching over them as they slept.  It had been a bitter pill to swallow when they'd finally flown the coop and made lives of their own.

            It was strange how their friends had always called them "birds of a feather" – not quite understanding their close bond.  It was just easier to go with the flow, and keep the peace.  But for all her browbeating and constant bitching, he'd loved her.  And now she was gone.  And so was Uncle Chester, with his loud, booming voice and aggressive mannerisms.  He wouldn't miss him quite so much, Pip thought, but still.  .  . Family is family.

            Pulling himself together, he refocused and watched a cheeky squirrel race across the patio. The small grey rodent climbed nimbly into a planter box, and proceeded to bury a peanut he had found lying on the ground.  Those darned squirrels, Pip muttered.  Always digging up the flowers and vegetables, and making a mess of everything.

            Pip turned away from the window, not wanting to see the beauty of the day.  He could feel the heat of the sun shining through the glass of the small room, warming his shoulders but not melting the coldness that had crept around his heart.

            It would be so easy to just sit in a corner and die, Pip mused as he paced aimlessly back and forth.  What was the point of living without her? What was the point of anything?  The place seemed so large and empty without Hildy and Chester.  He gazed around, seeing half-empty bowls of food littering the place, and Chester's belongings scattered around.  He was such a messy character, Pip thought sadly – but I miss the old boy.  It's too darned quiet around here.  Even the crows outside are silent today.

            He padded silently across the room to get a drink of water, and then impulsively decided a cool bath might do him the world of good, calm his nerves. As he stepped into his bath, he could hear the strains of Dave Brubeck's piano quartet filling the air in the small front room, stirring his heart with their upbeat melodies.  

            Hildy had always loved jazz, he reflected, as he let the cool water flow over his body. She'd become so enthralled that she'd jump up and down to the beat, tossing her head to the rhythm and laughing wildly.  It was always a joy to dance with Hildy;   despite the bad times, there were also many wonderful memories.  As he sadly put away memories of Hildy, Pip pondered his current situation and wondered how best he would cope.

         "Pip, are you finished in there?  I'd like to take a bath, too." 

            "Almost done, DJ," Pip called back, jumping out and drying off as fast as he could.

            Damn, DJ!  What a pain his wife's twin brother had turned out to be.  Always in his face, always jabbering away, constantly talking a mile a minute.  He'd never really liked him, but had done his best to be pleasant.  Not that Hildy had encouraged a relationship between the two of them.

            He'd resisted when she'd had asked him to allow Uncle Chester and her brother, DJ, to live with them, but had finally given in.  What else could he do?  'Blood is thicker than water', Hildy always used to say, even though she never got on that well with her brother.  DJ was like Uncle Chester.  Always squawking about something or other, screaming for attention; the two of them made life quite intolerable at times with their constant arguing, sometimes even coming to blows. 

            He supposed Hildy had felt something was missing in their home when their kids had left the nest.  Filling up the space with a brother and an uncle must have satisfied her longing for family.  For himself, Pip would have preferred a much quieter life.  The constant battles were beginning to wear him down.

            He'd tried to stay out of the line of fire as much as he could, although it wasn't always easy.  Being a mild-mannered type, he avoided family skirmishes as best he could.  Hildy was another kettle of fish, though.  She liked a good screaming match as much as her brother and uncle did, and Pip often sat far away from the three of them with a bemused look on his face.  He could never understand his wife's penchant for family arguments and drama.  All he wanted was a little peace and quiet.  Fat chance of that with the three of them constantly at each other's throats.

            It's been unnaturally quiet these past few days, Pip thought, taking a seat by the window once more.  It's just the two of us now.  Me and DJ.  I wonder how he's taking all this, Pip pondered, listening to his brother-in-law sing in the shower.

            He's acting as if they were never here!  Listen to him carrying on in there.  You'd think he was glad to be rid of them.  Still, I must say it's been a lot more peaceful since they left.

            Silently berating himself for his disloyal thoughts, Pip looked out of the window once more.  So much life out there, he  thought.  Just look at it all.  Birds, squirrels, possums -- all of them enjoying this sunny day, while I'm cooped up in the house with him.  Oh well, there's no point in being a misery; I suppose I had better make the best of it all.  Could be worse . . .

            Moments later D.J. sat by Pip's side at the window.  Pip could feel something had changed in his brother-in-law's demeanor.  He seemed quieter, calmer, almost at peace with himself as the two sat side-by-side, staring out the window.  Pip looked at him with interest, wondering what to say.  The two of them had never really had a proper conversation before - they had just tolerated each other.  And as they sat there, Pip felt a strange sensation come over him.  Not quite sure what it was, he turned to DJ and looked at him, really seeing the tormented soul that he was for the very first time.  

            To his utter astonishment, DJ burst forth with a stream of hitherto hidden and what seemed suppressed feelings.  Into Pip's patient ears, DJ spilled his innermost secrets, his concealed resentments, and his guilty relief that his sister and uncle were dead. It was as if a faucet had been turned on, and DJ was powerless to stop it.  

            He jabbered on for what seemed hours, all the while staring intently at Pip, silently begging him with his eyes to understand the pain he had undergone.  

            "Hildy never liked me," he gasped.  "Yes, we looked the same, but we were so different inside.  She never understood me, and she hated me when I tried to be your friend.  She was jealous and made no secret of it. Didn't you notice?   Every time I wanted to just talk with you, ask your advice, she was always there.  It seemed as if no-one was ever good enough to be around you – just her.  She wanted you all to herself and couldn't bear me coming near.  I don't understand why she even invited me to live with you.

            "And as for Uncle Chester...he was no help.  All he ever did was shout and bully.  He never tried to understand me or Hildy, and he certainly never acted as a mediator in our fights. He just watched and laughed, mocking us when we fought, egging her on to take me down.  I certainly don't miss him, and I don't miss her."  Breathless, DJ took a step back, as if horrified by what he had said, and then turned away from the window. 

            "I'm sorry.   I shouldn't have said those things," DJ apologized.  "It's just that all these emotions have been building up for years – and now that they've gone – well, I just had to let you know how I've felt about things.  Forgive me.  I know you are mourning her."

            Perturbed by DJ's unexpected outburst, Pip took his leave and retired to his room.  Sitting quietly in the haven of his and Hildy's room, he realized he had a lot to think about.  He heard DJ shuffling around in the other room, and called out gently, "Good night, bro.  Sleep well."

 Two weeks later. . .

            Pip arose early, only to find DJ already at breakfast.  He was nibbling some apples and grapes that he'd sprinkled over his cereal.  He sat down to join his brother-in-law. The last two weeks had been a time of healing and understanding, and there seemed to be a new, tighter bond between the two of them.  Pip smiled at DJ as the younger male swallowed his morning cereal, splattering food out of his mouth as he chattered on.

            "Good morning.  How did you sleep?  I am feeling really peppy today, Pip.  Do you fancy hanging out with me on the bars?  I could do with a good work-out today."

            Pip smiled to himself and felt warmth fill his entire being. He looked at DJ with new eyes.  Their constant talks and soul-searching revelations had forged a new friendship between the two of them - a closeness Pip never knew could have existed between him and this other male.  

            "You know what, DJ?" Pip asked quietly, a little taken aback at his own temerity. "How would you feel about moving in with me?  I mean . . . into my room.  I know it's weird, but I've been so lonely since Hildy died, that the nights are just about unbearable.  And I know you probably miss Uncle Chester's presence, even though he could be a pain.  He was a strange old bird, but at least he was a warm body.  It gets so damned cold in this house at night."

            DJ stared in amazement at Pip - a look of understanding and then joy filling his eyes. 

            "Really?  You mean it?  You want me to share your bedroom with you?  Wow.  That's so cool.  I never dreamed. . .

            Okay!  Yes, I'd love to.  I'll stay on the other side of the room, but it will be great to have someone there...especially when I wake up in the night, afraid.  Thanks, Pip, you're the best."

            Pip smiled at his brother-in-law's enthusiastic response and turned away, ready to turn his sleeping quarters into a room that would accommodate the two of them.

            The first night was awkward.  It felt strange to Pip having someone in his room that looked so familiar, so similar to his dead spouse.  There was no touching, no physical contact.  As he tried to sleep, he glanced over to the other side of their bedroom, wondering what was going on in DJ's mind.

            Soon the proximity of another person became comforting to Pip, and it seemed DJ was also finding solace in Pip's company.  Free from the demands and constant hovering of a needy wife, Pip seemed to flourish. He underwent a strange metamorphosis that surprised him more than it did DJ.  Formerly quiet and painfully shy, ruled by his loud and overbearing wife, Pip started to sing in the mornings, released from the bondage of marriage and a hovering mate.  Rather than just sit around the house as before, now he exercised daily and spent long hours in meaningful conversation with his new best friend, DJ.

            The younger member of the household also seemed changed for the better.  His previous rambunctiousness disappeared, his aggressive mannerisms were no more - he had, in fact, become a new and improved version of his former self.

            The two became closer and more emotionally connected and, as the weeks passed by, they no longer slept at opposite ends of their room.  Instead, they moved into the same bed, barely touching at first, just keeping near to one another, keeping the other warm and secure purely by each other's physical presence.

            Out of tragedy, these two very diverse personalities had found a new way of living, a unique way of surviving.  The neighbors could often see them through their picture window, just sitting in what seemed a harmonious silence.

            A new relationship between the two males made all the difference in his life. Pip was no longer the brow-beaten, miserable spouse – he was now a confident, happy male, able to speak his mind whenever he wanted.  DJ was always cheerful and animated, telling jokes and singing off-key.

            And so it was that Pip and DJ became known in the neighborhood as the "odd couple." Neighbors gossiped about them, wondering what was really going on in the Bell household.  Speculation ran wild but no-one ever really knew if the two were lovers or not.  The two were often seen sitting side-by-side in their window, looking happy and contented.  No female joined their household and all abusive language and shouting became a thing of the past.

                        It seemed as if no-one would ever know the real truth.  To all who cared to wonder, only the two of them would really know the depths of their relationship --- yes, they were, indeed, truly strange bedfellows.

And today . . .

 You really MUST turn over the page to find out the ending to this amazing story . . .

Photo courtesy of the author.

Pip and DJ – a new kind of "togetherness"

                                                                                                                                          Author's Note:

This is a true story.  The names were changed to protect the guilty.  "Pip" and "Hildy" were indeed "mates" and were the parents of four beautiful children.  DJ was identical to Hildy, as both were sun conures, but of course they were female and male.  They never got along, and were constantly fighting.  Chester was a male, yellow-collared macaw who was older than the rest of the brood.  He had a loud voice and was constantly calling out in his raspy voice.

It was most unfortunate that I, their owner, in my dotage, left the floor heater on high heat by mistake.  For fifteen hours, all four birds had been subjected to unnaturally high temperatures in their small bird room.

Chester and DJ, the two males, had shared a cage, while the married couple, Hildy and Pip, shared a second cage.  Miraculously, Pip and DJ survived the nightmare.  In a panic, I grabbed the two comatose birds and rushed into the house with them. I sprinkled water over them, hoping it would revive them. 

Holding them both close to my chest, I ran to my car and drove a mile down the street to my local bird store.  Banging on the closed door, I screamed for someone to come out and help me.  An assistant quickly assessed the situation and took both birds into the back room. He attempted to revive them, but poor Chester expired on the table.He thought Hildy might make it, so I decided to take them both home.  Chester was wrapped in a towel, and Hildy lay in a cardboard box.  I arrived home and attempted to revive her with more water.  It was only a few more moments before she, too, died.

Hildy and Chester – whose names were really Huckleberry and Chicker, are buried in my garden.  Following is a picture of their grave.  I have also enclosed a picture of the two new "buddies" who seem to be enjoying life quite well these days.  Despite my worries that they would never get along, it only took a few days before they were sharing a cage, playing together, and happily chirping away as if a new life had been offered to them.  Out of a terrible tragedy, a new friendship was born.

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