Welcome to Upside-Down Falls

Part 4: Laughter, Tears and The Cheerful Ferret.

After a brief chat during which I used actual words and Mr Abernathy used a lot more, I now know that he is a lawyer from Haven Hill and one of my gran's oldest friends.

Mr James Abernathy, as he is formally known, spoke with a slight lisp, and his moustache reminded me of one of those furry caterpillars, one that seemed to be eager to escape from his face. It wiggled as he spoke, and I had to work hard to suppress the giggles that built up in my throat, threatening to bubble out of me along with all the grief I have been holding in for the past few weeks.

Having used up his quota of words for the occasion, Mr Abernathy and his misbehaving moustache left the clinic after scheduling a meeting with me at the local tavern, The Cheerful Ferret, in the afternoon.

You are probably not going to believe me, but we've already established my extreme trustworthiness, so that will be completely on you, but Frank, the owner of The Cheerful Ferret, actually does own a ferret! Yes, it's not just the name of his tavern; when he says: "I am the owner of the cheerful ferret," it's a statement of fact in more ways than one!

Well, I thought that was pretty funny... tough crowd...

Here is the punchline, for in case you miss that too, Frank's ferret does not seem cheerful at all! In fact, it always has a rather grumpy look on its face! Frank's statement of fact might indeed be a bit of a lie!

Maybe the tavern was named after a different ferret? (Note to self: Ask Frank about the ferret.)

The meeting with Mr Abernathy left me with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and searching for some warmth, wisdom and a big dose of compassion, I head into the back room, where Gillian is having yet another argument with Bella.

"What did she do this time?" I ask, not really caring all that much right now.

"She pooped in her water again," Gillian scowls, "and when I tried to take the water dish out, she pooped on my hand."

I try not to laugh; I'm already starting to feel a little bit better; I always do when it is someone other than me that gets to be pooped on by Bella for a change. That is an old trick of the bird. It never gets old... it's friggin' ancient!

Bella is a regular here at the clinic. She is one smart bird and knows to come here whenever she gets herself into a spot of trouble, which is often... so often... so very, very often!

Okay, maybe she's not all that smart after all.

"Who's a smart bird? Squawk!" I swear, sometimes it's like she can hear our thoughts or something!

"So... What did Mr Caterpillar Moustache have to say?" Gillian asks expectantly; she is looking at me in a way that tells me that she can see that I am having a bit of a rough time at the moment.

At her words, I let go of the laughter I have been holding onto, and Gillian snorts her way into laughter as well. We chortle and chuckle and giggle like lunatics for a good ten minutes, knowing full well that nothing is really all that funny. I finally take a deep breath and hold it in an attempt to calm the laughter threatening to escape into more hysterics.

"He... He has some documents for me to sign," I finally manage to get some words out. "Apparently, Gran left me her cottage and everything else she owned," hearing those words out loud in my own voice finally brings down the entire dam wall, and I promptly burst into ugly, soggy tears.

"Oh shoot!" Gillian exclaims, scurrying around to tear a sheet of paper towel from the roll I was using to clean the cages. " Waterworks... Hold on! Here!" she hands me the paper towel, and not caring about my shitty state (I mean that quite literally), she pulls me into a hug.