Chapter 4 #2
“They captured them all and relocated them to a different island so they wouldn’t cluck and wake up the guests.”
“ No .”
“Yep.”
“That’s crazy .”
“Welcome to very exclusive private resorts.”
“Maybe it flew from another island.”
It’s a big chicken. Brown. Thrusting its head and clucking as it makes its way to us.
“Have you ever seen a chicken fly?” I ask.
She tips her head back and laughs, and the chicken tilts its head at us, then gives a loud bagock !
“Maybe it swam,” she amends.
“Have you ever seen a chicken swim?”
She giggles, pauses like she’s thinking about it, and giggles harder.
“I think I have to report this chicken,” I tell her. “Where there are chickens, there could be roosters, and contrary to popular belief, roosters do not restrict their crowing to mornings.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve been in nearly a hundred Razzle Dazzle films. I’ve learned more than you can imagine about more things than you’d even think exist in the world.”
“I don’t remember seeing you in a movie with a rooster.”
“They killed production after the rooster attacked one of the assistant directors.”
Can’t deny how much I enjoy listening to her full belly laugh.
It’s worth dealing with how mad my family will be when I finally head back home.
“I want chickens,” Emma says.
“For dinner?”
“ No . As pets.”
“Chickens as pets?”
“I mean, I want to get a chicken coop and raise chickens and have fresh eggs. I want chickens.”
“You can probably have this one.”
“ I am not taking a Fijian chicken home .” She tips her head back and laughs again. “Can you imagine the nightmare in customs? Ma’am, we’re going to have to look in your suitcase to find out why it’s clucking .”
“They see clucking suitcases all the time.”
“They do not.”
“Bet they do. Look. It’s a cute chicken. It would be a great starter chicken for you.”
It is kinda cute. I’m not making that up.
It’s also circling us like it can’t decide if it wants to attack or make friends.
“Chicky-chicky want dessert?” I ask it.
“Oh, that’s mean,” Emma says. “Don’t feed her if you’re going to report her. She’ll think you’re friends. And friends shouldn’t betray friends.”
Ah, hell.
There we go again.
Her smile dips away and the clouds come back in her eyes.
“You don’t seem like the type to betray your friends,” I say, watching her carefully.
“But I did.”
“On purpose?”
She pulls her knees back to her chest and eyes the chicken, who’s watching us like we are the dessert.
“My two best friends— they’re everything ,” she says.
“I love my brother, but he’s…hard sometimes.
Laney and Sabrina are the sisters I never had.
We’ve been inseparable since third grade.
They know me. They’ve protected me. They’ve been there for me for the very worst moments of my life, like when my mom died, but this—this was my fault.
Sabrina didn’t tell me everything she knew about Cha—about my ex, because she knew I didn’t want to hear it. ”
“That was her choice. Not yours.”
“But she was right . I didn’t want to hear it.
I was so in love with the idea of being married and having kids and living in their grandparents’ house, but upgraded to be surrounded by the white picket fence, that I didn’t want to consider that I was marrying the wrong person. And you know the worst part?”
I shake my head.
“I think I always knew he wasn’t right for me, but every time I’d think about breaking up with him, I’d start calculating how long it would take me to meet someone new, fall in love, get engaged, and get married and start a family, and I’d start thinking I was already too old.
And then he’d make an offhand comment about how I was too skinny, or how I was too neurotic, or how I was too na?ve, and I’d question if anyone else could love me.
Seven years . We spent seven years with me thinking I was lucky I got back together with a man who said he wanted to eventually marry me and have kids with me, all of it to end like this. ”
“Got back together?”
“We were high school sweethearts,” she whispers. “Broke up in college when we went to different schools and he said he wanted to date other women. But we graduated and both moved back home and then—then I took him back. I was so stupid.”
“ BaGOOOOOCK! ” the chicken yells.
“What she said,” I agree. “Gotta be easier on yourself.”
“I asked my other best friend to babysit my brother during my wedding week so he wouldn’t fight with my ex. Who does that? Who asks a friend to babysit your adult brother so he won’t accidentally upset your groom?”
I squeeze her hand. “Take it from someone who’s gotten married at least two dozen times when I say no one’s at their best at weddings.”
She makes a strangled noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. “ You have not been married two dozen times .”
“I have on screen. And if you think parents and the bridal party are bad at weddings, you should see how producers and directors act.”
“Oh my god.”
I’m being absolutely ridiculous.
But you know what?
She’s smiling again. Laughing even as she wipes her eyes. “Are you always like this?”
“Absolutely.”
The chicken snorts in my direction.
“Happy clucking to you too,” I tell it.
It doesn’t like that.
It doesn’t like that at all .
Swear the thing bends over, lowers its head, and charges straight for me, wings flapping, ba-gock -ing its head off.
Emma shrieks and leaps to her feet.
I shriek and dive out of the way too.
“This is why they don’t want chickens on the island here,” I tell her while the chicken readjusts its course and charges me again.
“Dessert!” she cries. “Toss it some of the banana cake!”
“You’re closer!”
“Here, chicky-chicky! Does Clucker want some fruit?”
It stops and tilts its head at her.
She tosses a piece of mango near it.
It fluffs its wings and looks back at me.
I’ve never seen a chicken with murder in its eyes before, but I think this one is contemplating my demise.
I’m frozen in place.
Having a standoff with a chicken.
“Is that a real chicken?” I whisper to Emma as quietly as I can.
“What else would it be?”
“A robot chicken sent to spy on us.”
She cracks up.
“I’m serious,” I whisper. “I got a script once about a post-apocalyptic world where all of the animals were actually robots spying on the humans for the robot overlord.”
“That doesn’t sound like a Razzle Dazzle film.”
“I didn’t say I asked for the script. I said I got it. Someone mailed it to me and my assistant was so amused he passed it on to me.”
The chicken makes a low, threatening baaaagoooooock .
Emma tosses another piece of fruit at it, and this one hits it in the head.
She gasps.
I erp .
The chicken scratches its foot on the ground, and then it charges me again.
“No, chicky!” Emma shrieks. “Here! Here ! Have the whole picnic! We left you fish soup!”
I’m dancing.
I’m dancing and dodging a chicken that’s charging me with wings flapping.
It’s snorting .
The chicken.
The chicken is snorting and charging and flapping and it wants to kill me.
Emma’s offering it fish soup and throwing pineapple chunks at it, but it’s not helping.
And it doesn’t matter how I dodge and change direction or run straight, it’s keeping up with me .
This mutant chicken is going to murder me.
Or at least my calves.
Just when I’m sure my lower legs are toast, it stops, looks back at the jungle, makes a noise like it’s trying to be a rooster, and takes off running between two bures and into the underbrush.
And it doesn’t come back.
The noise of leaves rattling and rustling and the chicken clucking dies away, and silence settles over the little restored village once again.
I look at Emma.
She stares back at me.
“Did that just happen?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer.
Instead, she doubles over, completely losing her shit in absolute amusement. She might even be cackling, she’s laughing so hard.
“Snorkeling tomorrow suddenly seems like a questionable activity,” I say.
“Afraid of robot fish?” she asks through gales of laughter.
“Yes.”
She tries to stop laughing. Tries again. On the third time, she manages to force a straight face.
And then do you know what she does?
Do you know what this runaway bride does? This viral runaway bride whose happiness has become my mission while I distract myself from my own problems?
She fucking bagocks at me.
And calls me the chicken.
And I’m not sure I’ve ever laughed so hard in my entire life either.