Page 5 of Out on a Limb
“Why is it so big?”
Andrew glanced my way over his shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Genetics.”
I followed him as he continued to walk, doing my best to stay close, just in case another cock tried to ruin my day.
Because that seemed to be the theme so far.
I stopped, eyes going to the rooster in Andrew’s hand as what he said finally registered. “Did you just make a penis joke?”
He didn’t slow down, forcing me to keep moving unless I wanted to be on my own in a chicken fight. “If I did, you missed it.”
Andrew didn’t make jokes.
He was the most serious person I knew.
All business. Completely focused on his job.
Maybe I did hit my head.
Maybe all of this was just the result of a catastrophic brain injury.
Wouldn’t that be wonderful.
Andrew suddenly stopped. “Shit.”
I peeked around him, moving slow just in case we were under attack.
“Oh no.” I stepped out from behind him, unable to look away from the scene in front of me.
There were chickens everywhere. Perched on the low branches of bushes and trees. Scratching in the mulch. Kicking debris across the sidewalks as they dug through the flower beds. A few were sprawled out in the exposed dirt, flailing around like they were having seizures.
“What is happening?” There were certain things I expected at this point.
I expected my granddad to be a pain in the ass.
I expected the roof of the gift shop to leak when it rained.
I expected the noise from the construction behind us that never seemed to end.
I did not expect a chicken apocalypse.
Chickocalypse.
Chickalypse.
Cockocalypse.
That was it. That’s what I was calling this.
Cockocalypse.
“I’m going to kill them.” Julia stomped after one of the dozens of chickens shredding their way across the plants my family collected over the past century.
“What in the hell are we going to do with a hundred dead chickens?” Andrew crouched down to grab another chicken, managing to tuck the more docile bird under his arm.
“Not the chickens.” Julia snatched the bird she was chasing up. “Those assholes behind us. They did this.” She dropped the chicken down into one of the large tubs we used to collect weeds and grass clippings.
“We can’t prove they did it.” Andrew added the hen under his arm to the tub before shoving the rooster into a cardboard box held out by one of the landscapers.
