Page 9 of Shenanigans

I psychically planted the location of my orchard in the chicken’s feeble brains.“Go.”I watched them fly off.

A patrol car squealed around the corner.

“Heel,”I instructed the dogs. I ran out the backdoor, with the canines dutifully following me.

Thank the Lord, the swap meet was only a block away. My legs felt like lead and I was panting like a woman in labor.

I jogged down the alley. Kooky’s Swap Meet was housed in an old supermarket painted with whimsical murals of sunflowers. The parking lot was full of food vendors selling everything from tacos to sushi. Inside you could buy clothing, jewelry, art or handcrafted furniture.

Huffing and puffing I sprinted across the parking lot. People took one look at the big, menacing pit bulls loping after me and fled. In his haste to get away, a very large man, tripped and fell against an awning shading several picnic tables. The awning tipped over, knocking an old guy off a three-wheel motorcycle.

The riderless motorcycle zoomed across the parking lot and crashed into a police car pulling into the lot. The airbags deployed, smacking the officer in the face. Oh crap. Oh crap. “Sorry,” I called.

My cellphone barked again. I wheezed, “Harry. Where. Are you?”

“Second loading dock,” Harry replied.

We tore through the store. The shoppers quickly got out of our way.

“Police! Stop!” A female voice yelled.

I screamed back, “Help me! Help me! They want to eat me!” I ran into the back room, and out onto the loading docks. Tom’s, Dick’s, and Harry’s box trucks were backed up to the ramps.

A mountainous form moved in the shadows. “Harry?”

He stepped into the light and I fought back a grin. He was wearing an obviously fake beard and a long black wig with purple highlights. “Did you swipe Louise’s wig? It doesn’t really match your grungy dock worker attire.”

He scowled. “At least I don’t have chicken shit and feathers in my hair. Get in.”

Me and my critters piled into the back of the truck. “What are Tom and Dick doing here?”

“They’re diversions. If the cops pull them over, they’re going to be for a big surprise,” Harry said and pulled the door down.

My eyes widened in horror. “Surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“The buzzing kind,” Harry hollered.

I groaned. Tom was a beekeeper and the last time we needed a distraction to rescue some abused animals, he released a swarm of angry bees on the police. While the cops were running for their lives, we simply drove away with the starving horses.

I heard the driver’s door slam and the truck tore off, sending me crashing to the floor. The critters all piled on me for comfort. I petted them.“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Tinkerbell woofed at me as the truck swerved violently this way and that.

“You are not seasick.”

Arf. Arf. Arf.

“You puke on me and I’m taking you back to that warehouse.”

The silly dog rolled over on her back and stuck her little legs straight up in the air.

“You aren’t dying.”

The truck careened around a corner. We slid across the floor. Another turn and we skidded to the other side.

Sirens sounded.

“Oh crap!”

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