I was just about to leave when Truck came in, one of the men I’d met at my welcoming party the night before. He had a sulphur-crested cockatoo perched on his forearm. “Oh, hello again,” I said. To Truck, not the bird. The large bird squawked, his yellow crest perked right up. “What the fuck do you want?” I was stunned. Truck laughed. “This is Hooker. He has no manners, sorry.”
