Hogan's Heroes and Hawaii Five-O belong to others. I'm just visiting their world. This story was inspired by a writer's challenge and by my story, "Carter, the Colonel, and the Cockatoo," which featured my cockatoo's alter ego, Toby. He appeared briefly in "Jethro" and now wants to star in another tale.
From "Jethro:"
Hogan, now General Hogan, commanding officer of Hickam Air Force Base, grinned at his old friend. "Memories, Kinch?" the senior officer questioned, glancing at a framed picture on his desk. Liberation Day at Stalag 13: five men stood in a group outside a dilapidated barracks-a British corporal, a small Frenchman, and three Americans, the youngest holding a big white bird.
COCKATOO CRAZIES
Danny Williams looked at his kitchen clock. Six-thirty A.M. He'd gotten up early, gone for a morning swim-nothing like the beach before the tourists filled the sand-showered, mostly dressed, and was hurriedly swallowing a breakfast of Frosted Flakes, malasada, and coffee when a knock at the door disturbed his thoughts. This early in the morning? It could only be Steve. Must be important. Disjointed thoughts ran through the young detective's mind as he headed for the door.
Another knock, this one sharper, followed by an ear-splitting screech. Williams, hand on his gun, pulled the door open, only to be greeted by one of Hogan's team, Andrew Carter, now head of the Pharmacy Department at Tripler Hospital. Clamped to his arm was a bird, a big, a very big, white bird-Carter's infamous pet, Toby Cockatoo, the subject of some almost unbelievable stories. Had he actually kept several German officers and guards distracted while Hogan's team stole a secret code book? Danny stepped back quickly when the bird eyed him as if he was a specimen in a zoo. Toby looked like he had plans, plans that might include biting and Danny wanted to keep his fingers.
"Carter," Dan spluttered. "What . . ." He stopped, aghast, as the excited bird jumped to the kitchen counter, flounced over to the bowl of cereal, and delicately sampled the detective's breakfast. A delicious treat, specially prepared for a cockatoo! And that coffee. Granted, cockatoos shouldn't drink coffee, but the beverage was pure heaven! He let out a psychotic laugh as he happily raised and lowered his crest. His own person never gave him such treats! He hopped back to the cereal and resumed eating.
"Carter," Dan began again. "Where did this . . . this monster parrot come from? Why is he here? Why are you here?" Williams attempted to rescue the malasada, but the bird beat him to it. No one was going to take this wonderful food away from a cockatoo! He clacked his beak menacingly as the breakfast's owner backed away. "Carter," Dan pleaded, "Get this bird away from my breakfast!"
Carter's attempt to look serious failed miserably. "Better let him have what he wants," the older man said with a grin. "You should see what he did back at Stalag 13."
"I don't think I want to know," Dan interrupted. "Please, what are you doing here? I have to get to the Palace. Steve called an early meeting and . . ."
Williams never got to finish the thought as the phone rang. Dan moved quickly, but Toby was quicker, knocking the handset from the base and squawking loudly. "Hi! Hello! I know NOTHING! N-O-T-H-I-N-G!"
"Danno!" His boss's voice thundered from the phone. "What is that racket? Are you all right?"
Williams grabbed the phone, narrowly avoiding a bite as he rescued Toby's newest toy. "Carter's bird," he began. "He's taking over my apartment. He ate my breakfast and now he's drinking my coffee!" Dan stopped as he realized how he must sound. Second-in-command of Five-O and he couldn't even handle one large parrot. He blushed as he heard Steve's chuckle over the phone.
"Let me talk to Carter," the lead detective said. Danny handed the phone to his visitor, who by now had retrieved his over-excited bird. The conversation was decidedly one-sided, with Carter only able to get in a couple of "Yesses," an "I understand," and one "Right away." The older man gave the phone back to Williams.
"Steve?" Dan questioned. "I'm sorry for the confusion. I'll be in as soon as I can." He paused. "No, he didn't bite me. I'll grab something at the office. Just don't let Kono eat all the malasadas." He turned to Carter. "Explain, now!"
"Well," Carter replied sheepishly. "I suppose I should have called first. I just picked Toby up from quarantine this morning when I got a call from the hospital asking for an early pharmacy consult. I thought you might be able to watch him for me."
Dan shook his head. Bird sitting wasn't in his job description. Yes, Toby was nestling calmly and contentedly on Carter's arm as he scritched the feathers on his pet's neck, but . . . Williams looked ruefully at the carnage in his kitchen as he said, "I'd rather deal with Steve's driving!"
Breakfast with Toby's alter ego is kind of like this. He steals my toast and peanut butter.
Cockatoos are extremely long-lived birds, as are most larger parrots. Some have been documented living into their 90's. Toby would be in his late 20's or early 30's at the time of this story—just about Danny's age!
