I'm copying the entire story into the first post.
You have inspired me to write a story! I have checked most if not all of the other stories, and the one I have planned is pretty unique. Sorry if it seems similar in the beginning, it will branch out soon.
WARNING: Do not copy my work/ideas! You may print it out if you wish, but DO NOT attempt to claim credit for it!!
Chapter 1
The noise was deafening.
It had been quieter in the round, small place. But it hadn't been as comfortable, and I needed to come out. I walk backwards, trying to take in the huge room. Ther were many other chicks, all peeping.
"Hey! Watch it, Poof-head!" A chick with a very fluffy head yelps as I bump into him.
"Who are you calling Poof-head? You have a giant fluffball yourself!"
"Oh," he says, and tries to look up at it. I laugh. He laughs, too. "Hi, I'm Oliver." Another chick comes up to us. She looks different from the first chick; she's grayish yellow instead of black and yellow with spots.
"Hi!!! Where are we, and where's mommy? By the way, I'm Petunia." I never considered that we might have a mother. The place we are in is shiny, and big eggs turn around and around. It's warm.
"We don't have a mother," Oliver decides. "We're magic." It sound silly: the magic chickens with no mother!
"Oh," says Petunia, "I kind of wish I had a mother, but I have you guys! Let's be friends!"
"Ok," Oliver and I say.
"Wait, you haven't told us your name!" Petunia and Oliver look at me.
"I'm Louie," I say, making the decision final.
Then Petunia is lifted into the air. She screams.
Chapter 2
Soon I get picked up, too, and flipped over by the careless tan thing that has elevated me so curiously. I drop into a box filled with long soft stuff: hay. There are other chicks in there, but none with puffball on their head like Petunia or Oliver or me. I cry for them. Some of the others cry too. Some are silent. Finally, the tan things put a lid on the box, and the only light comes from the holes in the side.
"Hi," I chirp nervously. In the dim light I make out about seven others. They look at me.
"Hey," one finally squeaks, "Who are you? My name is Rosie." Rosie has yellow feathers with little bits of black in them. "I'm a splash Orpington."
"I'm Louie, I'm a Polish."
"Ooh, a Polish!" Another squeaks. She has creamy yellow fur. "I'm Sandy the buff Orpington."
At that moment we all fall on top of eachother as the box moves. We keep moving for a while. All the chicks introduce themselves: Cocoa, a partridge Silkie, Pumpkin, another partridge Silkie, Daisy, a silver laced Wyandotte, Sunny, a golden laced Wyandotte, and Cinder the Barred Rock.
"I miss my friends," I sigh. Pumpkin snuggles up to me.
"We're your friends now," she says, and I have to accept the truth: there is no going back. I tuck Pumpkin under my wing and fall asleep, tired by my huge day.
Chapter 3
When I wake up, the girls are screaming.
"What!? What's going on!?" I shout, eager to protect them.
"They took Coco!" I growl and fluff up my feathers: they can't hurt her. This is to no effect, though, they scoop me up easily and plop me into a place with soft bedding.
"Coco! You're safe!"
"Yeah, come eat." I realize that I'm hungry and thirsty and peck at the little brown crumbles in the red container. Mmmm! Yummy! I eat until I'm full, and by that time all my friends have joined us. We fall asleep together, and wake up again a short time later.
"I'm bored," Sandy says, and pecks me lightly on the shouder. "Tag, you're it!!" We chase eachother around for a whild, until it gets dark.
"Phew," I say. Today has been another exciting day. I wonder if every day will be this exhausting? If it is, I don't mind, because I realize that I'm truly happy here with my little flock of 7 friends. Especially Pumpkin, with her especially fuzzy Silkie feathers that glow like gold, and her happy personality.
"You're such a great rooster, protecting Coco," she sighs sleepily as we settle down for the night.
"Thanks," I say, and fall asleep, because I'm so tired that I can't keep my eyes open for one more moment.
Chapter 4
We grow quickly in the next couple weeks. When we feather out, I discover some beautiful patterns: the Wyandottes are brilliantly feathered, and Cinder is covered in black and white stripes. I am the only one with a crest. One day, I happed to spot my reflection: I'm a white crested blue, like Petunia. I smile and hope she's somewhere good. The tan things, which we discovered are called "people," let us outside sometimes, and it is the most marvelous thing! We dig through grass, and find scrumptious things like bugs, worms, and seeds. Pumpkin brings me my favorite treat, worms, in return for some juicy grasshoppers.
I've noticed the people calling me "Luna," even though it's a girl's name. I don't mind, though, because I have my flock friends.
After a while, when we are four weeks old, we go to live outside, where we can access bugs in our run all day long! It is amazing and I would never, ever want to leave.
Chapter 5
Life is so good! The ladies are all laying eggs now, and I think Pumpkin's dainty little bantam ones are the best of all. To celebrate her laying her tenth egg, I crow for the first time. The people are watching, which makes it even better. I'm a rooster! I'm awesome! The younger one yelps in suprise. I run over to comfort her, because she is good to me and gives me food, but she yelps again and jumps away. Sulking, I return to the coop.
Later that day, the younger one is talking with the older one. "Please, mom, can we keep him? Pleeaase?"
"No, honey, he's too noisy. He'll go mean, too, and them you won't want him." Me, hurt the girl? Never! I listen on. "We'll send him to Aunt Kristen's, she has all those chickens, remember? That way you can still see him sometimes. OK, honey?" But the girl is crying. She does not want me to leave, she loves me like I love my hens.
I want to cry with her.
Chapter 6
I say goodbye to each of the hens in turn. I know that they will have a happy life here, but we will miss eachother. Finally I get to Pumpkin. "Let me come with you," she pleads.
"I can't," I say. "I don't know where I'm going, and you'll be happy here." She sighs, and backs away.
"Don't let her give up on life," I whisper to Rosie, "She needs to be happy. She can't let this ruin her life."
"I promise," Rosie whispres back, and straightens my feathers. "You're ready now."
I'm lifted into a box, and set in a small chamber. It moves, I remember them calling this a "car." I set off towards my new life yet again. "Goodbye," I whisper. My sweet hens didn't deserve this. I thought only of them, how devastated they were. And then we arrived.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I knew immediatley that this was not the lush green place I had come from. It was muddy, mucky, and run-down looking. A large brown animal lazily ate hay in the only clean corner of the feild. A few dirty, bare-backed hens waded through the mess. I felt disgusted. I'm glad Pumpkin did not come with me, she would not have lasted. This was no place for a dainty little bantam. The girl let me out. "I'll visit," she murmured, and got back in the car. They drove away. Now what?
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I waddle through the muck to the barn. The hens look up with glazed eyes. No greeting. I peer into the dim building, until with a massive crow I am tackled from behind, Claws like the talons of a hawk dig into my wings. I submit.
"Who are you?" The voice is sharp with agression.
"L-l-louie," I stutter.
"L-l-louie, ha? What are you doing here?" He sneers.
"T-the g-girl dropped me o-o-off." I sound like an idiot.
"Stay away from my hens," the huge rooster growls, spearing me with his spurs a couple more times before kicking me away.
Whoa, I didn't know that a chicken would do that. A black hen scurries over.
"Don't cross Spike, he'll beat you to death." She scurries away. Even the the hens live in fear here? This is a bad place. I creep outside. Another rooster, a bantam, struts by.
"Stay away from the chicks," he barks menacingly.
Geez, is everyone mean in this place? I think of Pumpkin and the others. How I wish I was still safe at home.
Chapter 7
I sneak peeks at the chicks every so often. Once one spotted me and chirped in delight, "Look at the pretty rooster! I wanna be like him, momma!" I was chased off by three or so roosters, and got a good flogging for it too. Great, the only ones who like me are not allowed to even see me. I spend my days wandering.
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The chicks' mother has started letting them out. She doesn't chase me off if she knows no one's looking, and if I find a worm or two for her babies. She even started up a conversation once or twice in the far corner of the pasture. We became the closest thing to friends that could exist in that place.
Until the hawk.
Chapter 8
The huge red bird swooped down from the sky. It screamed. I crowed, but the hen was too far away. I race towards her, knowing that Spike or one of his palsll find me later and probably beat me up. I don't care. She can't die. "Stay away from my chicks!" She screams. The hawk flies lower. I was almost there. It grabs her, but she fights. It drops her. She lands with a shout. The hawk targets her chicks. The four of them stand there.
"No!" I shout, and I attack the hawk. I was never an amazing fighter, but I can wrestle the hawk until it gives up. It flies away, bleeding from a wing. It will live, but think twice about attacking the chicks.
I turn back to the hen. She lies gasping on the ground. I rush to her side, but I can not save her.
"T-thanks." Every breath is a wheezing effort.
"No problem," I say. She looks at me, and smiles.
"Goodbye." Her breathing fades.
"Goodbye," I whisper. My only friend is gone. I must protect her chicks. How though, I don't know. I turn around to find them.
"Well, well, well." It's Spike.
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"I told you to stay away from her," he says.
"T-th-the hawk would have killed the chicks." He doesn't acknowledge that I have said anything. To him, it's not about his flock, it's about him, where he stands, when he eats and when he sleeps. I resent him.
"Attack!" He yells, and I realize, too late, that I am surrounded by seven roosters. They fly at me, and I try to fight them off. It's no use; they are experienced fighters and I'm a 8-month-old Polish cockeral. They are merciless. Soon I bleed heavily.
"I think he's got it now, boys. Let's go."
I can't stay here, but I can't walk either. Slowly I crall away, into the woods and towards a stream. I take a drink, and all goes black.
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I wake up in the dark. It is lucky that I did not pass out in the stream. I examine my wounds: along with several smaller cuts and bruises, I have two large gashes and my foot is twisted. Curling up to keep warm, I lie there. All my friends are gone. It hurts to think of my former life, now so distant, with Pumpkin and the chooks. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, the bushes rustle. I listen again: there is something there. I cannot fight off a racoon now. I do not even try to hide. The noises get closer and closer.
A voice calls out, "Hello? Mister?"
Chapter 9
"Mister? Where are you?" Two chicks waddle towards me. "Hi Mister. We followed you. We wanna have an adventure!"
Fantastic.
All I need now is two bumbling, needy chicks. But their mum is gone. I can't leave them.
"Well, girls, you can come with me, but this is not going to be a picnic."
"Neither was home," says the red chick. She's right.
"Ok, can you girls forage? There's no grain out here."
"Yeah! Uh-huh!" The girls chorus. The yellow chick hopps over.
"I'm Martha and she's Annie. We're barnyard mix chicks!" She giggled. "Annie! I got a bug! Get it! Get it!"
I sigh. This is not going to help me but there is not other option, is there?
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After I can walk for a long distance again we begin to move away from the farm. The chicks are obedient and good foragers, seeming to keep resonably full. We follow the creek. Sometimes we can see houses like where the girl lived- still lives I guess. They never complain, never wish to go home. This lifestyle is peaceful, but it is not really what I want. Will I ever find a home?
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We travel for weeks and weeks. I remember my friends I've met since the day I hatched, over a year ago. Where are you, Petunia, Oliver, Rosie, Sandy, Coco, Sunny, Cinder, Daisy, and Pumpkin? My hens probably have almost forgotton me. I force myself, painfully, to focus on the chicks, who are 11 months old by now and laying eggs. One time Annie stepped on hers, and it broke. She pecked it.
"Mmmmm, this stuff is marvelous! " We try some. It is gooey and delicous. From now on, we eat the eggs, since thay can serve no other purpose. Humans never noticed us.
Until the day the old man came along.
"Well there," he said, "Chickens. I had chickens not too long ago."
Chapter 10
The man sets out some food every morning, near the edge of the woods. Sometimes it's a tomato, or grapes, or on the really cold days warm oatmeal. He sits, watching us. Never goes towards us. He always has a little half-smile on his face. I sense that he is a benevloent sort of creature, one who wishes us well on our journey. Each day he sets the food a bit closer to his chair. I don't mind walking up to him. One day, I notice that he has neglected to leave food out. The I see him, he has it in clutched in his hand. Warily I walk towards him. When I pluck a grape off and run away, he does nothing. Deciding it must be OK, I move forward and eat the grapes with Annie and Martha. He bursts into a grin.
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The old man strokes us. I do not mind, especially since he has opened his shed for us and bought some real food. Until the day he grabs me.
I squack and struggle, but his grip is firm. He puts me inside his large car, which I think is called a truck, and strides back towards the others. Soon they join me. We sit in silence, puzzled.
Where am I going now?
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As it turns out, I am going to a chicken breeder's home. There are more kinds of birds here than I have ever seen. I'm set on a table and poked for a couple minutes.
"Ahh, yes," a voice says. I'm carried to a small pen. There is only one other occupant. Another white crested blue Polish, a hen.
"Who are you?" she says crabbily. I pause akwardly, taken aback by her rudeness. Then, "Sorry, I've just had so many rude roosters."
"It's fine. I'm Louie."
"Louie?" she gasps. And engulfs me in a giant hug.
I'm so, so confused.
Chapter 11
It finally dawns on me.
"Petunia?" She nods and hugs me again.
"What happened to you?" She says, still grinning widely. I'm filled with a happiness I have not felt for some time. Settling down in the straw together, I start telling her the story that was my life.
"Well, I was dropped into a box...."
Petunia tells me all about her adventures: at first, she had been at a farm, where she met several cranky Golden Comet hens but was never really accepted. When the farmer found that she wouldn't lay so many eggs, she came here.
"And so," she sighs, "I've been here for months. Some of the roosters were OK. Others were rude." She snorts.
Something's bugging me.
"Petunia, what is a breeder?"
"Don't you know?" She looks at me, and pauses. I wait.
"We're going to raise chicks!"
Chapter 12
"They're hatching! THEY'RE HATCHING!!!!" Petunia screams from the nesting box.
"Ok, ok," I mutter and stride over. One of the eggs is wiggling and peeping. All of a sudden a small crack appears in the egg.
"A pip!" I smile at her. She's so excited.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes I stop and wonder if I could have had this life with Pumpkin.
I remind myself that that life is gone.
Sometimes I remember the hen that died.
I worry.
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Petunia frets for hours until the first chick hatches. When she does she is a pretty dark blue.
"Hi Mommy!" She squeaks in delight. "Hi Daddy!" She goes to eat some food and drink some water. Petunia glows with hapiness, and so do I. The second chick is a little black boy, and the third is a splash, another girl. The fourth egg starts to hatch, but it doesn't finish.
"Oh no," Petunia moans, "no no no."
"Our chicks are beautiful," I tell her, and remove the dead chick from the nest. When I come back, the fifth and final egg has hatched into a blue boy.
"Hi Daddy, I hatched all by myself!" He fluffs his feathers proudly, and runs to play with his brother. Petunia gives a happy little sigh. The chicks fall asleep tucked under her wings, one by one until the blue boy is the only one awake. "I wanna sleep with Daddy!" He nestles under my wing, and we sleep until the sun rises again.
You have inspired me to write a story! I have checked most if not all of the other stories, and the one I have planned is pretty unique. Sorry if it seems similar in the beginning, it will branch out soon.
WARNING: Do not copy my work/ideas! You may print it out if you wish, but DO NOT attempt to claim credit for it!!
Chapter 1
The noise was deafening.
It had been quieter in the round, small place. But it hadn't been as comfortable, and I needed to come out. I walk backwards, trying to take in the huge room. Ther were many other chicks, all peeping.
"Hey! Watch it, Poof-head!" A chick with a very fluffy head yelps as I bump into him.
"Who are you calling Poof-head? You have a giant fluffball yourself!"
"Oh," he says, and tries to look up at it. I laugh. He laughs, too. "Hi, I'm Oliver." Another chick comes up to us. She looks different from the first chick; she's grayish yellow instead of black and yellow with spots.
"Hi!!! Where are we, and where's mommy? By the way, I'm Petunia." I never considered that we might have a mother. The place we are in is shiny, and big eggs turn around and around. It's warm.
"We don't have a mother," Oliver decides. "We're magic." It sound silly: the magic chickens with no mother!
"Oh," says Petunia, "I kind of wish I had a mother, but I have you guys! Let's be friends!"
"Ok," Oliver and I say.
"Wait, you haven't told us your name!" Petunia and Oliver look at me.
"I'm Louie," I say, making the decision final.
Then Petunia is lifted into the air. She screams.
Chapter 2
Soon I get picked up, too, and flipped over by the careless tan thing that has elevated me so curiously. I drop into a box filled with long soft stuff: hay. There are other chicks in there, but none with puffball on their head like Petunia or Oliver or me. I cry for them. Some of the others cry too. Some are silent. Finally, the tan things put a lid on the box, and the only light comes from the holes in the side.
"Hi," I chirp nervously. In the dim light I make out about seven others. They look at me.
"Hey," one finally squeaks, "Who are you? My name is Rosie." Rosie has yellow feathers with little bits of black in them. "I'm a splash Orpington."
"I'm Louie, I'm a Polish."
"Ooh, a Polish!" Another squeaks. She has creamy yellow fur. "I'm Sandy the buff Orpington."
At that moment we all fall on top of eachother as the box moves. We keep moving for a while. All the chicks introduce themselves: Cocoa, a partridge Silkie, Pumpkin, another partridge Silkie, Daisy, a silver laced Wyandotte, Sunny, a golden laced Wyandotte, and Cinder the Barred Rock.
"I miss my friends," I sigh. Pumpkin snuggles up to me.
"We're your friends now," she says, and I have to accept the truth: there is no going back. I tuck Pumpkin under my wing and fall asleep, tired by my huge day.
Chapter 3
When I wake up, the girls are screaming.
"What!? What's going on!?" I shout, eager to protect them.
"They took Coco!" I growl and fluff up my feathers: they can't hurt her. This is to no effect, though, they scoop me up easily and plop me into a place with soft bedding.
"Coco! You're safe!"
"Yeah, come eat." I realize that I'm hungry and thirsty and peck at the little brown crumbles in the red container. Mmmm! Yummy! I eat until I'm full, and by that time all my friends have joined us. We fall asleep together, and wake up again a short time later.
"I'm bored," Sandy says, and pecks me lightly on the shouder. "Tag, you're it!!" We chase eachother around for a whild, until it gets dark.
"Phew," I say. Today has been another exciting day. I wonder if every day will be this exhausting? If it is, I don't mind, because I realize that I'm truly happy here with my little flock of 7 friends. Especially Pumpkin, with her especially fuzzy Silkie feathers that glow like gold, and her happy personality.
"You're such a great rooster, protecting Coco," she sighs sleepily as we settle down for the night.
"Thanks," I say, and fall asleep, because I'm so tired that I can't keep my eyes open for one more moment.
Chapter 4
We grow quickly in the next couple weeks. When we feather out, I discover some beautiful patterns: the Wyandottes are brilliantly feathered, and Cinder is covered in black and white stripes. I am the only one with a crest. One day, I happed to spot my reflection: I'm a white crested blue, like Petunia. I smile and hope she's somewhere good. The tan things, which we discovered are called "people," let us outside sometimes, and it is the most marvelous thing! We dig through grass, and find scrumptious things like bugs, worms, and seeds. Pumpkin brings me my favorite treat, worms, in return for some juicy grasshoppers.
I've noticed the people calling me "Luna," even though it's a girl's name. I don't mind, though, because I have my flock friends.
After a while, when we are four weeks old, we go to live outside, where we can access bugs in our run all day long! It is amazing and I would never, ever want to leave.
Chapter 5
Life is so good! The ladies are all laying eggs now, and I think Pumpkin's dainty little bantam ones are the best of all. To celebrate her laying her tenth egg, I crow for the first time. The people are watching, which makes it even better. I'm a rooster! I'm awesome! The younger one yelps in suprise. I run over to comfort her, because she is good to me and gives me food, but she yelps again and jumps away. Sulking, I return to the coop.
Later that day, the younger one is talking with the older one. "Please, mom, can we keep him? Pleeaase?"
"No, honey, he's too noisy. He'll go mean, too, and them you won't want him." Me, hurt the girl? Never! I listen on. "We'll send him to Aunt Kristen's, she has all those chickens, remember? That way you can still see him sometimes. OK, honey?" But the girl is crying. She does not want me to leave, she loves me like I love my hens.
I want to cry with her.
Chapter 6
I say goodbye to each of the hens in turn. I know that they will have a happy life here, but we will miss eachother. Finally I get to Pumpkin. "Let me come with you," she pleads.
"I can't," I say. "I don't know where I'm going, and you'll be happy here." She sighs, and backs away.
"Don't let her give up on life," I whisper to Rosie, "She needs to be happy. She can't let this ruin her life."
"I promise," Rosie whispres back, and straightens my feathers. "You're ready now."
I'm lifted into a box, and set in a small chamber. It moves, I remember them calling this a "car." I set off towards my new life yet again. "Goodbye," I whisper. My sweet hens didn't deserve this. I thought only of them, how devastated they were. And then we arrived.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I knew immediatley that this was not the lush green place I had come from. It was muddy, mucky, and run-down looking. A large brown animal lazily ate hay in the only clean corner of the feild. A few dirty, bare-backed hens waded through the mess. I felt disgusted. I'm glad Pumpkin did not come with me, she would not have lasted. This was no place for a dainty little bantam. The girl let me out. "I'll visit," she murmured, and got back in the car. They drove away. Now what?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I waddle through the muck to the barn. The hens look up with glazed eyes. No greeting. I peer into the dim building, until with a massive crow I am tackled from behind, Claws like the talons of a hawk dig into my wings. I submit.
"Who are you?" The voice is sharp with agression.
"L-l-louie," I stutter.
"L-l-louie, ha? What are you doing here?" He sneers.
"T-the g-girl dropped me o-o-off." I sound like an idiot.
"Stay away from my hens," the huge rooster growls, spearing me with his spurs a couple more times before kicking me away.
Whoa, I didn't know that a chicken would do that. A black hen scurries over.
"Don't cross Spike, he'll beat you to death." She scurries away. Even the the hens live in fear here? This is a bad place. I creep outside. Another rooster, a bantam, struts by.
"Stay away from the chicks," he barks menacingly.
Geez, is everyone mean in this place? I think of Pumpkin and the others. How I wish I was still safe at home.
Chapter 7
I sneak peeks at the chicks every so often. Once one spotted me and chirped in delight, "Look at the pretty rooster! I wanna be like him, momma!" I was chased off by three or so roosters, and got a good flogging for it too. Great, the only ones who like me are not allowed to even see me. I spend my days wandering.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The chicks' mother has started letting them out. She doesn't chase me off if she knows no one's looking, and if I find a worm or two for her babies. She even started up a conversation once or twice in the far corner of the pasture. We became the closest thing to friends that could exist in that place.
Until the hawk.
Chapter 8
The huge red bird swooped down from the sky. It screamed. I crowed, but the hen was too far away. I race towards her, knowing that Spike or one of his palsll find me later and probably beat me up. I don't care. She can't die. "Stay away from my chicks!" She screams. The hawk flies lower. I was almost there. It grabs her, but she fights. It drops her. She lands with a shout. The hawk targets her chicks. The four of them stand there.
"No!" I shout, and I attack the hawk. I was never an amazing fighter, but I can wrestle the hawk until it gives up. It flies away, bleeding from a wing. It will live, but think twice about attacking the chicks.
I turn back to the hen. She lies gasping on the ground. I rush to her side, but I can not save her.
"T-thanks." Every breath is a wheezing effort.
"No problem," I say. She looks at me, and smiles.
"Goodbye." Her breathing fades.
"Goodbye," I whisper. My only friend is gone. I must protect her chicks. How though, I don't know. I turn around to find them.
"Well, well, well." It's Spike.
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"I told you to stay away from her," he says.
"T-th-the hawk would have killed the chicks." He doesn't acknowledge that I have said anything. To him, it's not about his flock, it's about him, where he stands, when he eats and when he sleeps. I resent him.
"Attack!" He yells, and I realize, too late, that I am surrounded by seven roosters. They fly at me, and I try to fight them off. It's no use; they are experienced fighters and I'm a 8-month-old Polish cockeral. They are merciless. Soon I bleed heavily.
"I think he's got it now, boys. Let's go."
I can't stay here, but I can't walk either. Slowly I crall away, into the woods and towards a stream. I take a drink, and all goes black.
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I wake up in the dark. It is lucky that I did not pass out in the stream. I examine my wounds: along with several smaller cuts and bruises, I have two large gashes and my foot is twisted. Curling up to keep warm, I lie there. All my friends are gone. It hurts to think of my former life, now so distant, with Pumpkin and the chooks. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, the bushes rustle. I listen again: there is something there. I cannot fight off a racoon now. I do not even try to hide. The noises get closer and closer.
A voice calls out, "Hello? Mister?"
Chapter 9
"Mister? Where are you?" Two chicks waddle towards me. "Hi Mister. We followed you. We wanna have an adventure!"
Fantastic.
All I need now is two bumbling, needy chicks. But their mum is gone. I can't leave them.
"Well, girls, you can come with me, but this is not going to be a picnic."
"Neither was home," says the red chick. She's right.
"Ok, can you girls forage? There's no grain out here."
"Yeah! Uh-huh!" The girls chorus. The yellow chick hopps over.
"I'm Martha and she's Annie. We're barnyard mix chicks!" She giggled. "Annie! I got a bug! Get it! Get it!"
I sigh. This is not going to help me but there is not other option, is there?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After I can walk for a long distance again we begin to move away from the farm. The chicks are obedient and good foragers, seeming to keep resonably full. We follow the creek. Sometimes we can see houses like where the girl lived- still lives I guess. They never complain, never wish to go home. This lifestyle is peaceful, but it is not really what I want. Will I ever find a home?
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We travel for weeks and weeks. I remember my friends I've met since the day I hatched, over a year ago. Where are you, Petunia, Oliver, Rosie, Sandy, Coco, Sunny, Cinder, Daisy, and Pumpkin? My hens probably have almost forgotton me. I force myself, painfully, to focus on the chicks, who are 11 months old by now and laying eggs. One time Annie stepped on hers, and it broke. She pecked it.
"Mmmmm, this stuff is marvelous! " We try some. It is gooey and delicous. From now on, we eat the eggs, since thay can serve no other purpose. Humans never noticed us.
Until the day the old man came along.
"Well there," he said, "Chickens. I had chickens not too long ago."
Chapter 10
The man sets out some food every morning, near the edge of the woods. Sometimes it's a tomato, or grapes, or on the really cold days warm oatmeal. He sits, watching us. Never goes towards us. He always has a little half-smile on his face. I sense that he is a benevloent sort of creature, one who wishes us well on our journey. Each day he sets the food a bit closer to his chair. I don't mind walking up to him. One day, I notice that he has neglected to leave food out. The I see him, he has it in clutched in his hand. Warily I walk towards him. When I pluck a grape off and run away, he does nothing. Deciding it must be OK, I move forward and eat the grapes with Annie and Martha. He bursts into a grin.
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The old man strokes us. I do not mind, especially since he has opened his shed for us and bought some real food. Until the day he grabs me.
I squack and struggle, but his grip is firm. He puts me inside his large car, which I think is called a truck, and strides back towards the others. Soon they join me. We sit in silence, puzzled.
Where am I going now?
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As it turns out, I am going to a chicken breeder's home. There are more kinds of birds here than I have ever seen. I'm set on a table and poked for a couple minutes.
"Ahh, yes," a voice says. I'm carried to a small pen. There is only one other occupant. Another white crested blue Polish, a hen.
"Who are you?" she says crabbily. I pause akwardly, taken aback by her rudeness. Then, "Sorry, I've just had so many rude roosters."
"It's fine. I'm Louie."
"Louie?" she gasps. And engulfs me in a giant hug.
I'm so, so confused.
Chapter 11
It finally dawns on me.
"Petunia?" She nods and hugs me again.
"What happened to you?" She says, still grinning widely. I'm filled with a happiness I have not felt for some time. Settling down in the straw together, I start telling her the story that was my life.
"Well, I was dropped into a box...."
Petunia tells me all about her adventures: at first, she had been at a farm, where she met several cranky Golden Comet hens but was never really accepted. When the farmer found that she wouldn't lay so many eggs, she came here.
"And so," she sighs, "I've been here for months. Some of the roosters were OK. Others were rude." She snorts.
Something's bugging me.
"Petunia, what is a breeder?"
"Don't you know?" She looks at me, and pauses. I wait.
"We're going to raise chicks!"
Chapter 12
"They're hatching! THEY'RE HATCHING!!!!" Petunia screams from the nesting box.
"Ok, ok," I mutter and stride over. One of the eggs is wiggling and peeping. All of a sudden a small crack appears in the egg.
"A pip!" I smile at her. She's so excited.
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Sometimes I stop and wonder if I could have had this life with Pumpkin.
I remind myself that that life is gone.
Sometimes I remember the hen that died.
I worry.
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Petunia frets for hours until the first chick hatches. When she does she is a pretty dark blue.
"Hi Mommy!" She squeaks in delight. "Hi Daddy!" She goes to eat some food and drink some water. Petunia glows with hapiness, and so do I. The second chick is a little black boy, and the third is a splash, another girl. The fourth egg starts to hatch, but it doesn't finish.
"Oh no," Petunia moans, "no no no."
"Our chicks are beautiful," I tell her, and remove the dead chick from the nest. When I come back, the fifth and final egg has hatched into a blue boy.
"Hi Daddy, I hatched all by myself!" He fluffs his feathers proudly, and runs to play with his brother. Petunia gives a happy little sigh. The chicks fall asleep tucked under her wings, one by one until the blue boy is the only one awake. "I wanna sleep with Daddy!" He nestles under my wing, and we sleep until the sun rises again.
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