Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Maybe it’s going to rain. Maybe that’s what the chicken is so upset about.
“Do you want to go back to your coop?” I close the window and turn around to ask the chicken. “I can take you back there.” I’m not sure how I will catch it or hold it, but I will try.
The chicken looks at me, puffs its feathers out, gives itself a shake, and makes a little cooing noise at me. Then she goes back to pacing the kitchen, and I swear she’s agitated. Or maybe I’ve finally been pushed off into the deep end. First, it was blundering the spoon I forgot all about, and now it’s thinking I’m some kind of chicken whisperer.
Blam!
“Oh my holy shitters!” My hand goes to my throat, where my heart is firmly lodged, and I spin back around to the window. There’s nothing there, but when I crank it up, I see a still brown form under it. “Oh shit. Oh my chicken! Hold on. I’m coming!”
I race through the house and hurry outside. Luckily, as I round the corner, the bird is picking itself up and shaking off the fact that it just flew into the window. It is walking around, which I think is a good sign. This one is actually more black than brown, but still with speckled bits like the other. The legs are soft and hairy looking, which I find to be the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Who would have thought it? Chicken feet.
When I reach for the bird, it doesn’t run or flap away. Instead, it leans into me and lets me check its soft feathers. I don’t find any damage, so I muster my courage and scoop the bird up like I’d pick up a cat. Maybe Thaddius does this, or maybe it’s still stunned, but it doesn’t fight me. She lets me carry her into the house and set her down in the kitchen next to the other bird.
I’m not sure what the official policy is on animals in the house, but Thaddius didn’t seem too disturbed yesterday morning when one of the chickens flew in.
“Do you want some water?” I try and push the plate close to the window smacker, but she doesn’t want to drink.
A sudden gust of wind whips past the open window, howling eerily.
It startles me enough that I straighten up and go and stick my head out the window again.
A second gust tugs at my hair, whipping it in every direction. I claw at the strands, trying to get it loose so I can see, but I don’t think to stick my head back inside. Instead, I foolishly keep it out there in the wind.
“Nina!” I hear my name shouted from a distance. I claw at my hair a little more frantically. It’s a losing battle, but finally, I just turn my head at a funny angle, go with the wind, and grab as much hair as I can to hold it out of my vision.
“Thaddius?” I blink as a strand of hair whips me in the eyes, stinging and making them water.
When the ever-loving hell did it get so windy? I was just outside, and there were no gusts of wind.
There’s Thaddius, a black speck in one of the distant fields. His legs are pumping as he sprints toward the barn. “It’s going to storm!” he yells at the top of his lungs. It’s more like a whisper by the time it gets to me, seeing as how the wind snatches his words away, but I can tell he’s yelling.
I can also see how pale he is. By storm, he means something bad is coming.
The color of the clouds and the gusty wind suddenly make a whole lot of sense. On crazy hot days, bad weather can be a thing. I’ve only ever experienced it from the relative safety of the city, but out here, we’re in the middle of nowhere, basically unprotected by buffers and stops.
I lean on the sill and shout into the wind, “What can I do?”
“I need help getting the animals into the barn! Can you do that?”
I have no idea if I can. No. No, I can do this. I’m no farmer, but I can help Thaddius.
I rush away from the window and slam it shut. “I totally get what you guys are doing,” I tell the chickens. “You knew there was a storm brewing, and you wanted to take cover. Well, I’ve got you. I won’t make you go back outside. You can stay in here where it’s safe.” I can only hope that’s true. The safe part.
I find a rubber band in the office and use it as a hair tie to keep my hair out of my face. A skirt isn’t the most practical thing in high winds, but I don’t have time to throw something else on. There was a raw urgency in Thaddius’ voice, and I don’t think he’s the kind of person who likes to ask for help, which must mean he truly needs it.