2
Angela Fowler lived in a trailer on the outskirts of the oldest town in the county. She didn’t get many visitors. Today, though, she was expecting one.
She heard three knocks on the door and maneuvered through the small flock of chickens that had formed at her feet. She opened the door and saw Sheila, whose gap-toothed grin brought an involuntary smile to her own face.
“Sister, it’s so good to see you!” Sheila said, going in for a hug.
Angela, decidedly not a hugger, received the hug with breath held and arms at her sides. Before Angela could reply, Sheila let her go and stepped past her into the trailer.
“Angela—honestly—you’re still keeping the chickens in here?” She looked at Angela with raised, disapproving eyebrows.
“Where else are they supposed to go?” Angela said. She looked down and saw a pair of chickens inspecting Sheila’s sneakers.
“I don’t know,” Sheila said, “somewhere else! Anywhere else! Get a chicken coop—I don’t know! This is really fucked up!”
“I can’t just put them in a coop. What’s gonna happen to them in the winter?”
Sheila scoffed. Angela picked at the nail polish on her right index finger, sending tiny flecks of polish flying.
“We get foxes around here, too,” Angela said, still picking at her fingernail. “I can’t leave them outside. It’s a death sentence.”v Sheila stared at Angela, dumbfounded.
“They’re very well-behaved,” Angela continued. “They keep me company. They’re sweet.”
One of the chickens pecked at Sheila’s pantleg. She shooed it away.
“I know, Angie,” Sheila said. “But surely you can see that this isn’t right. Sweet or not, they don’t belong in here. This place is cramped enough without a dozen chickens wandering around.”
“Well, that’s your opinion—”
“It’s not right!” Sheila said, her brown eyes penetrating Angela’s. “Not for you, and not for them! How do you even hear yourself think with all this clucking? And the smell! Angela, really!”
Angela looked down at the floor and saw a stain on the carpet from where one of her chickens, Ruby, had vomited a few months back.
“I don’t mind it! I don’t mind any of it!” Angela said, starting to feel embarrassed.
Sheila lowered her voice and responded, “I know you think you’re doing them a favor by letting them live in here with you, but you’re not.”
Angela huffed and turned away, crossing her arms and fixing her gaze on a kitchen tile. She looked at her fingernail. Most of the polish had been picked away.
“Seriously, Angela, think about it! You’re denying them the simple pleasures of life as a chicken. Walking around in a big, open field, cock-a-doodle-dooing as the sun breaks over the horizon, taking in the fresh air—”
Angela turned around with a look of fury. “Becoming roadkill, getting eaten alive by a fox!”
“Roadkill?” Sheila rolled her eyes. “You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m not getting rid of them,” Angela said, and she meant it. She didn’t like to think about what her life would become without the chickens, so she didn’t.
“I’m doing a good thing here,” Angela continued, speaking slowly. “I take care of them, and they help me take care of myself.”
“And that’s great, Angela. I’m happy that you’re happy. But this isn’t a life.”
“Not to you,” Angela said, looking again at the stain on the rug.
They were silent for a moment. The chickens clucked.
“Well,” Sheila sighed, “it was worth a shot.”
They stood there for another moment, Angela looking at Sheila, Sheila looking at the chickens.
“So, did you just come here to humiliate me?” Angela said finally.
“Oh! Right. I forgot. Err…” Sheila scratched her forehead. “Michael got laid off.”
“Laid off?” Angela said. She wasn’t expecting bad news. “Doesn’t he work for the hospital?”
“He did. Things aren’t looking good over there, I guess. They’re cutting as many non-essential staff as they can,” Sheila said with a sigh.
“How could anyone be non-essential? It’s a hospital!”
“He was a custodian. I guess cleanliness is the first thing to go in times like this.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Angela said. She looked down. They stood there in silence for another moment, watching the chickens.
“Times like what?” Angela said.
“What?” Sheila looked at her. “Oh, Ang, you know.” She paused, looking down again. “The... economy, and all.”
“Oh,” Angela said quietly.
“I just wanted to let you know, because...” she gestured vaguely at the trailer and the chickens.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You guys focus on the job search and keeping the family safe and all that. How’s Pat doing?”
“She’s fine. Same as always,” she said. “You’re sure you’re gonna be okay? All of you?”
Angela laughed drily. “We’ll be okay. If anyone should be worried here, it’s me. About you. Are you gonna be okay?”
Sheila nodded and smiled, but her face faltered into a frown.
“You’ll be okay,” Angela said. She stepped over the chickens and hugged her sister. “Come over any time. I can give you eggs.”
Sheila laughed, then wiped tears from her eyes. “Seriously, dude, you need to figure out this chicken thing. There’s no way this is sanitary.”
“Do you know any custodians looking for work?” Angela said, smiling for the first time since Sheila walked in.
Sheila laughed and waved her off.
“I gotta go. Keep in touch. Really,” Sheila said.
“Don’t worry about me. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Sheila smiled, looked at the chickens, and shook her head.
“Do something about these chickens,” Sheila said, swinging open the screen door.
“I won’t!” Angela called out, as Sheila disappeared down the front steps.
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