“I’ve given up my last three barrels to you,” the Captain adds, “why the interest in a river made of rum? You’re a ruler of some kind, a decision maker and a decisive individual. Surely, bringing the old woman to her prosecutors is the way forward, is it not?”
“Above all, I’m a policeman,” Colonel Rhytmic continues, “I stop all who interfere with the good order of these heavens. I act in prevention as well as after the fact. Why, Captain, finding the source of trouble around here doesn’t stop at contraband, counterfeiting and rum trafficking, which would be limited and limiting. I look for real trouble, I stop it in its track and peace will be had by any means. Your parrot is too weak to dare indulging in a single lie and if he did, I would destroy him faster than it took me to unclip the guards’ cages to oblivion. Now, get your bird to lead us to the River, Captain.”
“Labaguette?” The Captain inquires.
“Oui, mon Capitaine, most certainly.” The parrot closes his eyes, grimaces somewhat and gathers concentration.
“Gimme some time, will you?”
“Colonel, while Labaguette concentrates, do let the old woman join us on the ship for the trip.”
“When Labaguette spits it out, Captain.”
The Captains smiles, at last, he thinks, a victory.
“It’s over there,” Labaguette says, all wondering where that ‘there’ may be until the bird points his beak slightly to the right and to a 45 degree upward slant.
“Aye Capitaine, it’s this way.”
“Can’t be” the Policeman retorts.
“We’d be travelling to—.”
To be continued…