“I'm at a loss how to proceed,” Michael said to Jean, as they sat outside Jean’s coffee shop the next morning drinking coffee. Michael, Jean, three macaw parrots, Blue Tara in her Princess Tara form, Red Tara in her greenwing macaw form, Garuda in his blue and gold macaw form, and Margarita in her black cat form. Red Tara perched on Michael’s shoulder. Garuda perched on Jean’s shoulder. Princess Tara sat on the table top with her beak dunked in an iced latte. Margarita sprawled out in the sun on the edge of the sidewalk adjacent to the street. They tried to ignore the crowd of people gathered behind the coffee shop’s front window drinking their coffees while staring at the menagerie outside.
“We’ve got to go back through the tunnel at Charlie’s store and find our way back to the Indian village,” Jean replied, as she sipped her latte. Jean looked the picture of northwest chic in cargo shorts and a checked flannel shirt. Michael couldn’t help admiring her long slender legs as she sat cross-legged next to him at the table.
“But is this going to be a ghost hunt? What can we do for someone who’s dead?”
“I don’t know that he’s dead,” Jean said. “And apparently dead doesn’t mean what it used to mean,” she added. “Anyway, I’m going back with or without you.”
“What do the Taras have to say about any of this?” Michael asked.
“More coffee,” Princess Tara replied. “Please.”