Mike stretched out on his bed, feeling tired. He smelled Emma’s applesauce pancakes and…something else. He sniffed a bit. It smelled like the time Micky tried to give himself wings with the chemistry set and turned his arms into feathers for three days. They ended up having to beg a buddy of his to play the drums, and Mick never did fly more than two inches off the side of the sand dunes near the Pad.

That was when Mike heard the most god-awful noise in the history of sound. It sounded like chalk on a blackboard or a real monkey shrieking or a combination of the two. He finally turned over and opened his eyes to see a blur of shiny blue-and-green feathers. The blur opened its mouth and would have taken his nose off if he hadn’t pulled it back and shot out of his blankets.

A very large bird with blue-green feathers and a long black beak stared back at him curiously. He screeched again, whether for good measure or to say hello or to mark his territory, Mike didn’t want to know. He got slowly out of bed, making his way cautiously around the noisy avian, then raced downstairs.

Emma and Peter, the morning people, were already there. Emma was dressed - she refused to appear upstairs in nightclothes - but Peter still wore his favorite orange pajamas with the blue bunny on them. Peter was downing sausage and pancakes at a rate Micky would admire, and Emma was turning over another golden, fluffy cake. Mike normally liked to kick off his day by admiring Emma’s plump figure incased in jean shorts and floral blouses that didn’t quite fit, but there were other things on his mind this morning.

"Guys, there’s a peacock in the bedroom. Why is there a peacock in the bedroom?"

Emma flipped the pancake onto the plate next to the griddle. She frowned and absentmindedly pulled at one golden brown ringlet. "There’s a PEACOCK in the bedroom? Really, Mike, have you been hanging out with Nyles when he’s…."

Peter turned on one of his million-watt smiles. "Oh, that’s my peacock. His name is Humphrey. He’s nice."

Mike groaned. "How the hell did you get your hands on a peacock?"

Peter shrugged. "Mr. Bleeker down the street owned him, but he said he couldn’t keep him since he was moving to a small apartment in San Diego, so he gave him to me. He doesn’t eat much, and I’ll play with him and keep an eye on him and everything."

Mike plopped down in the chair next to Peter as Emma put a plate of pancakes in front of him. "Peter, why on Earth did you think you could take care of a peacock? They’re wild animals, man! What were you going to feed him? Do you even know what peacocks eat? And where were you planning on putting him? We don’t have a backyard and he’s not staying in my bedroom! He makes more noise than Micky snoring!"

Peter frowned. "I guess I didn’t think…"

Emma sighed and sat down with the boys at the table, plate of pancakes in hand. "Peter, I’m sorry, but I agree with Mike. We don’t know the proper way to take care of him. Don’t forget Babbitt, too. He’s in Bermuda now, but he should be home in a few days. This could get us tossed out on our backsides, even more than being behind on the rent. You know how he feels about animals. I seem to remember you boys telling me he made a fuss over Micky’s werewolf impression, for heaven’s sake! How do you think he would handle a real, live peacock?"

A loud squawk from the upstairs bedroom interrupted the three. The blue-green blur Mike encountered earlier now looked less like a blur and more like a blue-green volleyball with a huge, many-eyed tail. The bird fluttered awkwardly down the spiral staircase, his tail dragging majestically behind him. He flapped into the kitchen, up to the table, and onto Mike’s pile of pancakes, which the fat bird started eating greedily.

"Hey!" Mike exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. "That’s MY breakfast! Get your own, you overgrown bag of flea-bitten feathers!"

Peter made a face. "Mike, that wasn’t nice! You’ll hurt Humphrey’s feelings!" He leaned over and scratched the bird on its back.

"I’m gonna hurt his NECK if he don’t get off the table and off my food!" Mike leaped for Humphrey, but the crafty critter saw him and jumped over his head, making his way to the first-floor bedroom. Mike’s face landed in the remains of his pancakes as Emma and Peter got up from the table and went after the recalcitrant bird.

"See what you did?" Peter wailed as he and Emma chased the critter into his and Davy’s room. "You scared him! Now it’ll take me HOURS to calm him down!"

The peacock dashed into the downstairs bedroom, jumping over beaded fringe, furniture, lamps, and a small lump curled up in one bed. The lump moved briefly before Humphrey dove under the covers.

Peter, having longer legs than Emma, made it to the bedroom just in time to hear the scream and see a bird and a young man with short brown hair leap out of the blankets at the same time. The pair eyed each other warily.

"What the bloomin’ hell is this?" Davy exclaimed, "and just how did it end up in my bedroom?"

Peter inched carefully over to the bird. "I’m sorry, Davy, but you gave Humphrey a terrible scare. He just wanted to say hello."

"I gave him a scare? That damn bird nearly scared ME through the roof!" Davy made a face and backed toward the other side of the room. "Couldn’t he have waited until I was awake? And what’s he doin’ here, anyway? If I didn’t know any bettah, I’d say that’s a peacock, like what you see in the zoo!"

Mike joined them at that point, wiping the remains of the syrup and pancakes off his face with a towel. "Man, I thought we got rid of all the wild animals when Micky and Lauren moved the apartment behind Mrs. Purdy’s house," he muttered. "Humphrey makes Mick sound quieter than a mouse’s ghost."

"We’re not keepin’ that thing," Davy complained, "are we? That bird darn near took me fingahs off! I can’t sleep with him around!"

Emma spoke up before Peter could. "No, we’re not keeping him. Peter, he’s got to go."

Peter’s chin quivered and his tawny eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "Em, he doesn’t have anyplace else to live!" He reached out and took the reluctant bird in his arms. "See? I like him, and he likes me. You just need to know how to handle him."

Mike shook his head. "Look, Pete, a beach house is not exactly the best place for a peacock to live. He doesn’t have any room to stretch out or jump around. He’s noisy, he smells funny, we don’t know what to feed him, and we really can’t afford any pets right now, not to mention Babbitt won’t be thrilled with him."

Mike and Emma sat on either side of the boy and the bird. "Pete, you want Humphrey to be happy, right?"

Peter sighed, stroking the bird’s feathers. Davy sat on the other bed, being with the others, yet keeping his distance from the bright-colored interloper. "I want him to be happy more than anything, Michael."

Emma nodded. She knew where Mike was going with this, having talked her sisters out of bringing many a frog and insect indoors to keep as "pets." "Do you really think he’s going to be happy living with four young people in an old beach house? There are no other peacocks here, no one for him to show off to or mate with. He needs to be with others of his own kind, in his own environment."

Mike sighed. "Let me put it this way, good buddy. Would you be happy living with other peacocks, looking for insects, puttin’ out your feathers to find a girl?"

Peter looked at Humphrey, then at Mike’s chocolate brown eyes and Emma’s storm gray ones. "Not really."

Davy nodded. "You have to consider Humphrey’s feelings too, Petah. An apartment is no place for a bird, but a beach house isn’t, eithah. He should go to the zoo, or someplace like that, where they’ll be othahs like him, he’ll have room to run around, and they’ll know how to take care of him."

Mike stood and went into the living room. "And I know just where to send him." The others followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. "I’ve got a friend who works for the zoo. They relocate animals to their natural homes. They’ll put ol’ Humphrey here back where he belongs."

Peter sighed sadly. Humphrey just looked into his owner’s big light brown eyes. "I’m gonna miss him, Michael."

Emma went back to the stove and started mixing more batter for the next round of pancakes. "I know you will, Peter, but trust me, he’ll be happier living in the wild with other peacocks, just like you’re happier living here with us in the Pad."

Davy nodded. "If we evah make the money to buy the house off of Babbitt, maybe we can get you a little pet then, like a goldfish or somethin’. They aren’t hard to take care of."

Mike nodded as he listened to the voice on the other side of the phone. "Uh-huh. Yeah, he seems to be ok. One of our neighbors gave him to Peter…you can? Thanks, Charlie!" He put it back on the receiver and turned to the rest of the group. "Charlie said he’ll and his assistant will come around for Humphrey in about two hours. He’ll stay at the zoo for a while before they return him to his real home."

Peter smiled, scratching the bird’s feathers again. Humphrey let out another big screech. "Did you hear that, Humphrey? They can take you home!"

Emma grinned as she flipped a perfect pancake. "Besides, we’ve already got a peacock here, and one is more than enough!"

Peter and Mike exchanged surprised looks. "We do?"

Emma nodded at Davy, who sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. "Yeah, Davy!"

Davy rolled his eyes as Mike and Peter burst out laughing and Humphrey let out another squawk. "Very funny, guys."