When we left off...It was a grey, dismal day in central Massachusetts.
A thin rain hisses down, slowly melting the snow pack. There are silver
icy-cold puddles of water slicking the ground. Driveways have become
temporary stream courses. The streets are gritty with a winter's
accumulation of road sand. The only color is the deep green of the
pines. The sun's light is a frail thing, and the clouds never thin.
The sound of a family of crows off in the distance is mournful, and
muffled by the rain.....

Todd looked up, and into the red gaze of the rooster. Three Bucks was
so angry that he was puffed up to the size of a turkey, his beak open
with his heavy breathing. Tina sloooowly, taking great care stepped
away from the weasels without stepping *on* them. Todd tightened his
grip on Hebert, whose pink eyes were lightly closed, his breathing
gentle and even. Todd gave him a few little shakes, but Hebert only
groaned a little and curled into a tight ball in the straw, his heels
over his ears, his tail draped over his nose. Todd was immensely
relieved by this, at least Hebert was *breathing.* Todd was still
having trouble believing that *he* himself was breathing!

The nearest of the two white Leghorns inclined her head toward Todd and
Hebert and asked
"Why do we owe their kind any justice? They are *weasels.* We know what
weasels are!"

The other Leghorn and the Red Star clucked in agreement.

The great toffee colored Buff Orpington remained where Todd had last
seen her, settled into the straw. Todd felt the weight of her curious
one eyed gaze, the kind peculiar to chickens everywhere. Tina returned
to the eggs in the corner, and Three Bucks began to pace back and
forth. He finally walked over to Tina and said quietly "Why, wife?"

Tina took a deep breath, puffed her own feathers up for an instant then
allowed them to settle back to her sleek black and white checked form.
She said "We are kin. The hoomins took us from the jungle, and now we
are in every corner of the world. The hoomins took the weasel kind from
the forest, and I am certain that these two serve a purpose, although I
am not certain what it is. But we are alike. Our kind are the finest
things that the hoomins have ever accomplished. The hoomins themselves
cannot escape the wild, they kill and kill and kill. But they
understand peace, understand what it could mean. They have molded us in
the image of peace, and it is the only permanent peace that the hoomins
have ever achieved. The justice of the wild is different. These two are
not wild, and not subject to the justice of the wild. I want to hear
them speak." At that, Tina dropped her eyes to the straw, and sat
quietly.

The two Leghorns and the Red Star immediately began clucking and cawing
in agitation. Todd looked over to see the level gaze of the Buff
Orpington still regarding him, while Three Bucks treated the weasels to
a deep scowl. The rooster cleared his throat and asked "Did you come
here to kill, weasel? We only know weasels as killers. That is your
role in the wild."

Todd's eyes widened and he stuttered "K-kill? No! We just wanted..."
Todd looked around fearfully, realizing that he was speaking to his
judge and jury, and that he had to speak *very* carefully. He tried
to swallow the cold lump of fear in his throat, but it was hard, very
hard.

The Buff Orpington opened her beak for the very first time, and spoke
very softly. It was a bit incongruous, such a soft, gentle voice coming
from a bird of her size. " Did you come to kill me, weasel, and my
husband and sisters? Did you come to ruin the precious eggs?" Todd
could not look away from the open, honest gaze of the Buff. She had a
quiet dignity about her, and he found that he could speak if he shut
out everything but her eyes and her voice.

"No. Not kill. We...I wanted to scare you. I heard that scaring
chickens was a fun thing to do, a weasel...tradition. Hebert.." Todd
looked down at his friend, so white and still in the straw, like a
precious white shelled egg himself. "Hebert didn't want to, but I told
him that we should do it...just for fun. I'm sorry. We never would have
hurt you, just chased you around a little then run back home. That's
the truth."

The Buff Orpington had held Todd's gaze during this speech, and when it
was through she nodded once, then looked away, and over to the rooster.
She didn't speak, but it seemed that her husband knew her well, and
understood what her eyes said. The rooster opened his wide yellow beak
and began to speak. Todd had to listen very carefully, hitching his
blunt little ears forward because the rooster's words were spoken
softly.

"You are fed. We are fed. And although your bones remember something of
the wild, of killing, you did not come here to kill. But you *are* a
fool, and I don't ever want to see you again. If I do, I will kill, and
I will have to find a way to live with that. I love my family. It is my
treasure. Now take your friend, and leave. Never come back. Whatever
your purpose is for the hoomins, serve it well. Today you were gifted
with your lives. Do not waste that gift." And the rooster walked over
to the little pine door, bent at what serves as a 'waist' for a
chicken, and lifted it up a few inches.

Todd wasted no time. He grabbed Hebert's scruff in his teeth and headed
for the little door, dragging his friend behind him through the straw.
He only turned back once, to look at the enigmatic Buff Orpington one
more time. She returned his gaze, and he felt as though something
passed between them, although it was hard to say just what. It was a
moment that Todd never forgot. And as the days passed, and Hebert
stopped being *quite* so furious and started speaking to him again,
Todd's memory returned to that moment like a smooth stone in one's
pocket, something interesting to handle, yet even more interesting in
its essential simplicity. He considered the words of the rooster, and
he considered life. Life is indeed a gift, and Todd never wasted
another moment of it troubling a chicken.

The End

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 6278]