New Twine City, where else would you want to be? It is a relaxing rainy morning, with more to come throughout the day. I’d bet that old laundromat would have wished for rain like this during that fire last month. Thankfully no one got hurt. I’ve heard they are back open for business, so that is great for the community! In other news, we have an interview coming up with the lovely Maggie Berrybush. They had just debuted at a new club downtown, The Ruffled Feathers. Stay tuned, and we hope you have an im-peck-able morning here at The Daily Roost radio!

The sound of corny advertisement music started to play, interrupted by the click of the radio’s switch, and brought silence to the box-cluttered office. Emerging from their seat, a Great Blue Heron made their way over towards the window, overlooking the rusty dusty city. He let out a loud sigh, peering at the sea of birds below. The clutter of flocking city folk migrating to work, the loud obnoxious honking of unsynchronized car horns.

He never really cared for the morning rush of the city; it never really spoke to him. If it wasn’t for the abundance of work, he would have wished for a different perch. The long neck bird then turned around and glanced at the small business cards on his desk. “Heron Time Detective Agency.” He picked it up to peer at it; he wasn’t one for puns, but his kids came up with it. After taking a moment to reminisce on the memory, it was all disturbed by the sound of ringing. With excitement, he moved some of the boxes off of his desk to reveal a bright red phone in the corner, and quickly picked it up to answer.

“Hello! Heron Time Detective Agency, how may I help you?” He asked, sounding as polite as he could.

“Lyam De Laker!” A loud chirp answered back, “You can’t be serious! Leaving your family to focus on some case that has nothing to do with you!” An all too familiar squawking filled the line.

“Pasha, I-” Lyam was then cut off as his wife continued to talk over him.

“What do you think our boys will feel when you don’t return for days on end?!” The heron was speechless for a second, flabbergasted by what was being said to him. It wasn’t just ‘some case’ and he had everything to do with it. It was his case, the case of the Royal Owls. The local mafia family within the city,  seemingly untouchable by the police. No one had been able to pin anything on them, everyone knew who they were, and what they did. It wasn’t until recently did Lyam catch a whiff of their connection to a new drug being sold on the streets. Causing all sorts of problems around the city, in the form of illegally modified seeds. They call it, Hush.

Though he didn’t have the evidence to prosecute them, he knew they were involved, and took it upon himself to catch them. Or at least he tried. The police captain he worked with, Jacob Thornwell, didn't have the same optimism as the detective did, stating to him that he was “too obsessed.” 

Scrutiny amongst his peers was a common occurrence within the station, no one had his back. However, Lyam's old partner, Wilson. That was a betrayal that cut the deepest. The dark grayish-brown petrel often had an aloof personality, approaching anyone on a whim. What often got the better of Lyam with his behavior was the repetitive aspect. He was always rambling to everyone at the station instead of doing the paperwork that was needed to get finished. It was always about some lyrebird girlfriend; some lady that could mimic other people’s voices. Some days the detective wished his partner would just cast off those silly distractions and put his job first, never thought he would do it like that, or to him. Soon after he was asked to resign, he decided to pursue the case further, even if it was on his own.

“Dad? Dad! Dad!” The sound of small chirps were heard from the other end of the call. It was his sons, Roka, Laico, and Nuet, jumping up and down beside their mother, wanting to have a turn on the phone. They were filled with excitement when they realized it was their father that was on the line. “Miss you! Miss you so much! So so so so much!” They said, one after another.

“I told you not to call me at work!” Lyam exclaimed, knowing where this conversation was heading. Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest bottle and popped it open. Pasha heard it loud and clear through the call. 

“And there you go, drinking again!” She yelled into his ear drums before he could even take a sip of the alcohol. The voice was so piercing, his neck weakly wobbled a little. “First you drown yourself in work, and if that doesn’t help, you drown yourself in alcohol! What is wrong with you?! You have a problem, mi amor!”

“I don’t have a problem, I’m just very dedicated to my job!” Lyam retorted as he rubbed the base of his beak, wanting the conversation to end. 

“What job? You got fired, remember? Or is the alcohol making you forget that, too?” Pasha mocked, antagonized as she heard her husband ramble on.

“I’m dedicated to making sure people are safe and protected! This new drug is not just damaging, it’s killing people!” It wasn’t visible to the wife, but the detective was shaking his fist in frustration. The detective’s voice was rising without notice, moments away from pounding on his desk. “Now let me do my work, hen!” 

“Lyam, be sensible here!” Pasha had returned with the same tone as her husband. “Can you blame me for checking up on you after you haven’t been home for over a week now? Please, the boys miss you.” She followed up with a heavy groan, attempting to be the voice of reason in the conversation. “If you could just talk with your sons, just for a minute-”

“I’m busy, Pasha, and right now I need to go. It takes concentration and dedication to work on this case.” The heron interjected, cutting off his wife before she could finish. With his patience running thin, there was no more time to waste on what he thought was nonsense. “Take good care of my kids while I’m away. Be-” He paused before saying something that would be regrettable. “And don’t call back, I need to focus!”

Lyam had hung up the phone with a loud clang as he slammed it back down on the receiver. Letting out a deep groan, he slumped onto his chair with his head laid on the front rest, a headache encroaching over his mind. The detective closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. The overwhelming tension of work and the unexpected phone call wasn't a particularly beneficial addition to the pressure building up in his head. 

“Perhaps some music would help soothe this pain.” Sitting up in his chair, the large heron reached to turn the radio back on.  Good timing, it was the end of  Maggie Berrybush’s interview, with the station rounding off the show with her voice. 

“Thank you so much for having me! We will now be playing one of her songs, Life without a Canary, on the station for you to enjoy. If you like what you hear, come see me at ‘The Ruffled Feathers’! Bye, everyone!” From there, the detective listened to the radio, letting the singing quell the coming headache.