Before I could close the distance and hurdle the fence, her hands appeared on it, and she jumped until she was resting on her belly on the top of it, screeching now at the top of her lungs.
“That’s it, you’re dead. You hear me, you little poultry clucker? Dead.”
Bernice loped up and reared back on her hind legs, resting her front paws on the fence next to where Evie was groaning and trying to inch over it into my backyard.
Whatever my dog saw confused her even more, making her whine and turn her head to the side while she wagged her tail.
“Don’t do it, puppy. He’s evil and will peck your eyes out. In fact, kill him. I permit you to eat the shit out of him.”
Just as I peeked over at what my dog was watching so intently, I heard a squawking noise and the sound of something running around in the foliage.
Remembering that she’d adopted some chickens two weeks ago, I expected to see them feeding or running away from whatever the predator was that’d gone after Evie.
That’s not what I saw. No, standing with its feathers fluffed up was the weirdest-looking chicken I’d ever seen in my life. It wasn’t even big, but it definitely looked pissed.
“What the fuck’s that?”
Groaning and trying to push up with her hands on the wood she was still balanced on, Evie glared at me.
“That’s the devil in poultry form. That little bastard’s had it in for me since I brought him home, and because I didn’t get the feed he likes, he just tried to kill me. Are there any major arteries in your feet and ankles?”
“That’s a chicken?” I asked slowly, still staring at the beast that was now making loud, almost growls.
“That’s Bob Ross,” she wheezed, getting my attention on how red she was turning.
Looking back at it, I blinked. “You called it Bob Ross?”
The guy was one of the most chilled men to ever be on television with his happy trees and shit. Why would she name a weird-looking, pissed off chicken after him?
“The hair on the top of its head reminded me of Bob Ross, and well…” she trailed off, wincing. “I thought it might make him nicer.”
Granted, the feathers on the top of its head were kind of rad and unruly, but I was still trying to make sense of what’d just happened, so none of it was computing for me.
“Chickens have feathers, not hair.”
“Whatever,” she snapped, pushing up and making an uncomfortable noise that snapped me out of my stupor.
This woman could make the most random shit happen on a daily basis. I failed every time I told myself not to get sucked into it or interact with her, because there was just no turning away from shit like this.
Reaching out to steady her when she almost fell face-first over the fence, I wrapped my arms around her ribs.
“Do you need a hand? Just tell me which side you want to be on.”
The laugh that burst out of her did not say she found my question amusing. “I’d love a hand, but I’ve got a problem.”
All I could see was the back of her head from where I was standing, but I still scanned down her body to see if I could see what would constitute the problem. When I didn’t find anything, I glanced up at the sky, saying a silent prayer that it wasn’t going to end up making the situation weirder.
It was a wasted effort.
“What’s the problem?”
Clearing her throat, her voice was strangled when she filled me in. “There’s a rough patch on the piece that’s under me, and it’s kind of— Well, I’m slightly—”
When she didn’t say anything else and instead hung her head and muttered stuff under her breath, I made sure she was stable and squatted down so I could see her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m hooked on the fence. That’s why I can’t get all the way over,” she whispered so quietly that I had to strain to make it out.
Sure enough, there was a large tear in the yoga pants she was wearing.
Right where her crotch was.
See what I mean about random and weird?
Rubbing the back of my neck, I weighed up the pros and cons of me exploring this further instead of calling my daughter-in-law to take over for me. Yeah, it was taking the pussy way out of it, but come the hell on!
In the end, I decided I needed a little bit more information before I could make that decision.
“How hooked is hooked?”
Swallowing loudly, she clenched her hands on the fence. “I think it’s pierced my vagina.”
I wasn’t expecting it—no one would expect those words—so I lost my balance and fell on my ass in the dirt.
“Did you just say it’s pierced your vagina?”
When she just nodded, I tried to stop my eyes from lowering to see because I was only human, but when I lost the fight, all I could see was angry-looking grazed skin above where the wood was pressing into it.