3
Jamie
“Here kitty, kitty, here puss, puss.”I crouch down and crawl on my hands and knees across the worn, wide wood planks of the old kitchen. I slide the bowl full of oatmeal under the table, letting the smell of melting brown sugar and butter waft toward my six-year-old, who decided last week that she’s a cat. If I do this right, I’ll coax her up to the table, to eat in a chair with a spoon like a good little kitten should.
Shay huddles under the table, sniffs at the air, and then licks her hand like it’s a paw. I have to give it her, she has cat mannerisms down. Not for nothing, I’m really glad she decided to move on from donkey. The kicking was getting out of hand.
Tanner and Elijah sprint around the table, shoving chairs out of the way. The pounding of their feet, their excited shouts, and the vibrating floor make it feel like I’m in the way of a stampede.
“Mom! Billy’s in the house again!”
Oh for crying out loud.
It’s then I see him, the old rooster, flapping his wings, pecking the air with his sharp beak, threatening to poke the living daylights out of anyone that comes near him.
“Well, get him then.”
Billy’s beady eyes latch on me with a malevolent gleam. It’s like he knows I’m the reason he can’t stay in the nice, warm kitchen where there’s plenty of food dropped on the floor. In fact, I’m crouched in the sticky remains of last night’s pea soup, a spoonful dropped next to Tanner’s chair.
Elijah lunges for Billy, the old, cantankerous cock. Billy squawks and flaps his wings, beating me with them on his way past. I flinch and then scramble under the table next to Shay. I’ve been pecked enough to know when to duck for cover.
Shay giggles at me running scared from a rooster, but then she remembers she’s supposed to be a cat so she ends her laugh with a staid meow.
I wink at her.
“Mom, are you ’fraid of ol’ Billy?” Tanner asks as he sprints around the table, his shoes thumping on the floor. There’s the clatter of silverware above, and I imagine Billy’s found the bowls of oatmeal. Mine has walnuts, one of Billy’s favorite things. I spent a whole day with Gran harvesting those walnuts, and there’s no way I’m letting some bad-tempered dinner bone steal them from me.
“I’m certainly not.” I crawl out from under the table and jump up with a fierce expression.
Billy, sure enough, is perched on my table, his bright orange claws scratching the soft pine. His curved golden beak is strategically positioned over my steaming bowl of oats. He cocks his head and holds still, considering whether it’s the time to eat or the time to fight.
Flight never enters Billy’s mind. He’s a chicken not a coward.
“Eat it and die,” I tell him in a menacing voice.
“Golly,” whispers Tanner.
“He’s gonna get it. He’s gone and made Mom mad.” Elijah elbows Tanner and they both stare at Billy like he’s on a morning walk to the gallows.
Billy clucks and warbles low in his throat, and his rust red feathers puff out around his chest. I take a warning step toward him and he puffs his feathers more, doubling his size. He really is a beautiful rooster. His comb is apple red, his eyes beady bright, his breast feathers shiny russet with an iridescent blue and black tail to make a peacock proud. The only thing that ruins it is the fact that he’s old, wiry, and only has one eye. He lost his left eye in a fight he picked, and won, with an eagle that swooped down and tried to eat him.
I suppose that eagle didn’t know. Nobody’s gonna eat Billy without Billy’s permission. Trust me, we’ve tried.
I tiptoe toward the table, the plank floor creaking under my feet. Billy narrows his eye and makes a warning squawk.
“Who let him out?” I say, edging closer while pretending I’m not getting closer.
“Tanner.”
“Elijah.”
The boys point at each other.
“Meow.” Shay crawls out from under the table and licks her paw.
The smell of buttery oats, walnuts and brown sugar stirs up again when Billy flaps his wings, warning me not to come any closer. My stomach growls.
“Why’d you let him out?” I look at Tanner. He always tells, especially when he did it, he’s like one of those villains in kid’s cartoons who can’t help but gleefully describe every step of their evil plan, because all they really ever wanted was someone to appreciate their genius.