It was on that fine morning, Mr. Rooster took a walk along the old farm road. He was headed for Downing Villa Square; he was afraid he might end up being fried chicken. There were too many women around with kitchen knives for pies; he wasn't planning on being in one, either. He also knew the men down there most likely couldn't cook worth a lick. Not to mention, they were too drunk to stick him or catch him in a net to put him in a pot for chicken or rooster dumplings.
Climbing on a pole to have a little fun, he cleared his throat with a little cough after a quick swallow of moonshine that he stole from Aunty M's window. Pops an eyeball with a shake of his head, "Oh, that's good stuff," ruffling his feathers, puffing his breast feathers. Then with full force, he yells. "COCK A DOODLE DO!" Just to make sure, he runs to the other side with a slight stagger through the yard and does it again. "COCK A DOODLE DO!" He falls and hides in a barrel with a jug of moonshine and a pan of leftover sweet cornbread tucked under his wing.
Men fell to the ground as they stumbled left and right, scattering out of the tents in their drawers and carrying pee shooters and nets, only wearing half a shoe or barefoot, holes in their socks with their big toes sticking out. Mr. Rooster laughed so hard that he nearly rolled his barrel as he plucked pieces of cornbread into his mouth and downed the jug of moonshine. "Cock," popped an eyeball, ruffling his feathers. "Oh, that's good stuff." Hiccupping, belching. "Oh my, that's good stuff," taking another couple more swallows as he watched the men stumble around after him while he sat and lay safely tucked away in the barrel.
His new friends, the cows, are waking the farm, understanding his predicament, and giving him the day off. "Thanks, ladies; Mr. Rooster won't forget the favor." Hiccupping. "Cock," ruffling his feathers, as he heads down the road towards Downing Villa. Rose and Clementine took charge of the farm this fine morning as they strolled over by Robert and Will's winder with along. "MOO! MOO!" as Will hits the ceiling, and Robert and Richard sprawl onto the floor, wondering what happened to Mr. Rooster.
They dashed out the door towards the barn, yelling. "Ma, please tell me you didn't cook him?" With tears in their eyes.
"No, boys, we would never do that; now go milk your cows, boys."
Ma dashed down the hall, pounding on Aunty M's door, waking her up, and asked about Mr. Rooster. "No, dear, I thought it was strange he didn't crow," she said as she looked for her missing jug by the window, then dashed out of bed in her nightgown to the pin.
Everyone looked out on the farm all day for Mr. Rooster. He wasn't in the hen house, not in the barn. He was nowhere to be found. Granny scratched chicken off the menu until he was found. Hoping it would make the boys happy, they laid a reef around his pin and left the gate open, along with a card with a note. Saying they were sorry and that they missed him. Aunty M. even made him a whole pan of sweet cornbread to put in his pin, hoping he would return home soon.
They even sent out for a friend another rooster, so he'd have someone to talk to and keep him company when he came back home so he wouldn't be lonely anymore. They had the boys build another pin beside it to put him in.
The Sheriff and the boys gathered horses and headed for the Villa with the roster in their hands, yelling. "Come on, boys, let's get crackin'," as the dust flies from the hoofs of the horse's feet down the old road towards the square. The six men were taking no prisoners and not taking "no" for an answer. There was work to be done, and it was a new day.
The Sheriff pulled into the square right in the middle, yelling at the top of his lungs. "I need," calling names off the roster. "All to be dressed in twenty minutes at the Sheriff's office," and then took his horse and headed on over.
Next, Richard yelled. "I need," calling names on the roster to be dressed in twenty minutes at Chapel Drive. Then he took his horse and headed over there.
Next, Robert yelled. "I need," calling names off the roster, to be dressed in twenty minutes at the Square, and then take his horse and head on over there. All the boys and men worked in pairs, taking their group of men where they needed to be today.
The other three Deputy Are making sure the Villa is running as it did the day before. They organized, cleaned up, and set up committees to keep things intact. This time, they set rotation schedules like the women at the farm.
Someone shouted in the crowd. "When are the women coming back?"
Sheriff laughed from a distance. "Boys, when you showed them, you want them back, and you can learn to behave yourselves; until then, you are on your own." Sheriff waved his hat. "Yee-haw, let's get crackin,' boys, daylights a burnen.' Oh, if you see our rooster, please don't eat him, boys; we need him back at the farm."
The Sheriff and his men met at the office. He lined them up to be counted and looked them straight in the eye. "Men, are you ready to go to work?" Walking down the line of his men, he said, "Good. He says here there's a barn that needs to be built over at Mr. Crawford's farm. It burned down six years ago; he's been trying to build a new one ever since. I say let's go build one, men."
"Yes, sir," the man replies. The men piled into the wagons, loaded the supplies they needed, and then headed to the spot designated on the map for the day. Wagons were rolling, and men were singing in the fields. What a fine day for a barn raising as they cleared the old, burned wood, and laid a new foundation and walls in a half-a-day. Richard and his men and boys are down by the tent schoolhouse.
Richard walked up down the yard of the school. "This won't do, boys," he said as he looked at the tent school, "no, sir. I need something stronger, closer," pacing up and down the line. "The rains are coming soon," as he looked at the sky, shaking his head. "Can't have sick children, can we? No, sir, this won't do."
"It would take too long to build a schoolhouse, sir, with brick and walls to support it," a man in the crowd replies.
Richard smiles. "Don't have to, do we, men? No, not when I have a nice, comfortable barn to put them in and a house next to it."
They all laugh. "Why didn't you say so?" As they grabbed the benches and blackboards from the inside and emptied the room, down came the school tent house, neatly folding in the pegs and back into the wagons. Men and the boys sang merrily towards the farm to set up the new school for the children in the hayloft in the barn, where it's warm and dry when the weather starts to turn.
Robert waited patiently and nervously as a cat on stilts since he was the youngest of the group of Deputies and was not sure how men and boys would respond to him giving orders from such a young boy. Doc Hatfield, who was in this group, whispered in his ear. "Just act like your Pa, son; they'll come right around," he said.
"Thanks, Doc," he whispered back and swallowed hard. "Boys," looking them straight in the eye. "It's our job to clear and plant this field," Robert said, pointing to a place on the map. "Two Hundred acres for next year's crop for Mr. Summit. He's been ill for some time and has not had a chance to do it as he tries to get back on his feet. Do you think you can do it?" He asked.
"Yes, sir," they replied.
The men and boys all hopped into the wagons, grabbing their horses, plows, shovels, and whatever they needed with song and jig; they headed yonder to the field with Robert in the lead. They plowed and planted that entire field by late afternoon with brand new fruit trees. They hoe and sing a merry oh song as they return to Downing Villa. The three Deputies have also been busy reorganizing the town; they found some cooks who knew a thing or two. Making sure chicken was off the menu. Only until when Mr. Rooster was safe, and sound back on the farm where he belonged.
The other chickens were missing him, too. The girls went out to do their chores and collect eggs for the breads and desserts. They showed Ma their basket of eggs and brought in half a dozen eggs. "This is all we could find; I think the chickens are on strike," they said, showing them the empty baskets and passing them around the room.
Aunt Mary and Aunt Lizzy looked towards the rooster pin, shaking their heads. "Oh my, what are we going to do? No eggs for breakfast, no eggs for bread or desserts, oh, dear, I do hope he comes home soon," they said.
Mr. Rooster passed out in his barrel, boys and men return to Downing Villa while the Sheriff and his boys head back to the farm, yelling. "Thanks, boys, see ya tomorrow, behave yourselves," as they head up the road to the farm. "Yee-haw."
Pa and the boys greet old granny at the gate with a smile, shouting. "It's just us and the boys, how are ya and Ned and his foot?" The Sheriff asked.
Granny waves them in without her gun. "It was double-loaded; it went off, shot off his big toe last night."
Robert snickers. Pa laughs. "I knew we should have checked that gun," shaking his head. He shouts. "Granny, we will get you another one; it's behind the barn," he said.
"Thanks, Sheriff," watching her smile, pick up her skirts, and run.
Ned shouts. "Watcha do that fer?"
"Son, to match the other one," the Sheriff said and slapped him hard on the back. Don't sweat the small stuff, son; that gun is not loaded," he said, rubbing his chin. "Least I don't think it is," he said.
Martha rang the dinner bell and yelled. "Come and get it." Everyone around the farm piled to the tables. Ma waited for the boys and the Sheriff. "Hands, boys," she said, then gave them a swift kick towards the house and smiled with Aunty M's approval. She opened the door and gave Wayne an extra kick through the door to make him hop.
"Alright, alright, I'm moving," he said as she smiled.
"Yes, dear, I know. I like the way you move," she said as she laughed.
Aunty M. hears a soft whisper. "Me, too," from the corner of her ear, a shadow leaving a chill up her spine. "I can't wait for my wedding day; it has been such a long time since I danced with someone who will be my wife." Aunty M. looked toward Lizzy and Mary. "With children and some fun," as he hummed softly in her ear, then disappeared into the shadows of the night.
Things have slightly improved and changed for some of the women, for they have taken pity on their dear husbands after many have come groveling back on their hands and knees. The women think it had to do with the cooking personally, the fact that they were just lonely and knew better, and after the moonshine had run dry. They let some of them come back to their wives, setting conditions.
"Yes, dear, whatever you say, dear." The men said as they looked at the boys down at Downing Villa, still suffering and laid back.
The men up on the farm had a slightly different, sad life, that's for sure. Aunty M. had them clear another small field just for them. They named it "Cracken Town." To remind them all, too, let's get crackin,' boys when they went to work. It didn't have the nicety of the Downing Villa because it was just a place for the families to rest their heads. Plus, stay out of the Sheriff's way, keep everyone together when he calls them to work, and filter out the lazy stiffs. The good apples from the people just passing through, as he called them, could still keep Downing Villa because they were still coming in by the hundreds, last counted eight hundred. Shush, there's a meeten' going on.
"Well, boys," Margaret said, pouring a cup of Joe and pulling up a stool. "Looks like things are going well. I talked to Marty the other day; he says the herd will be down here tomorrow, I reckon, and to start setting up the next batch. I think Wayne still needs more boys, and we're still shorthanded elsewhere, too, if you know what I mean," giving them a wink. "Mike, left me a job to do; we need to do it," she replied.
"Yes, ma'am."
"So let's get crackin' quick, douse the light," Aunty M said seeing Wayne as he walked by Mr. Stringham's Hardware and Goods.
Wayne paused before opening the Sheriff's office for more charts and papers. "Nah, just the wind," he said, heading back to the farm.
Aunty M. and the boys sigh with relief as they look under the tent flap. "That was close. Well, I better head back to the farm myself. Doc, mind walking with me for a while?" She asked, watching the shadows cast off their light.
Doc laughed. "You're not afraid of the dark, Margaret, are ya?" He asked as she slugged him in the arm.
"Nah, just wanted your company, you old sawbones," Margaret said as she and Doc walked a few paces. "Doc, do ya get the feeling someone is watching you?" She asked. Doc turned to Margaret and saw that she was not kidding.
"Why?" Doc asked.
"Oh, just something Mike said to me once. I never paid him, never a mind, but now I wish I did, that's all. I'm just being foolish, old age, I guess. Thanks, Doc," he patted him on the back and left him standing there.
Doc rubbed his chin, watched her leave, and felt a cold chill run down his spine. Out of the corner of his eye, just for a minute, he said, "Nah," then turned around and headed back to his tent in Downing Villa.
Margaret walked back to the farm along the dirt road, not paying attention to looking ahead as a figure stepped out. "Hello, Margaret, mind if we walk a bit," he said as they looked towards the farm.
Margaret turned to see his face. "Oh, it's you again. Don't you have anything better to do than pester an old woman?" She asked.
"Oh, come on now, is that the way to greet a friend, soon to be a member of the family?" Death replied. Margaret stumbles as he catches her; a chill runs up her spine from his touch. "Sorry, it's been a long time for me. I need to work on that; please forgive me." Then, he tries to offer his hand again. She refused; he just smiled and understood. "Maybe next time, Mike says hello, by the way, and says you are doing just fine. If you want to know, we talk all the time; he is feeling much better now," he said.
"Mike says you are right; he does need more men to help build more and more strong lads to lead them, too, and you will be just fine. In fact, I sent the word out myself to help you. Hope you don't mind," the man called Death said as he smiled. "You are in it for the long haul, and they're coming.' So I would get on the horn, get crackin'," he said as he faded back into the shadows, leaving her standing there.
Margaret turned, gasped, then laughed at herself. "I thought I was the one calling the shots," picking up her skirt and running to the house, yells. "Martha put on the pot, make it strong, dear, and put on a second," screaming all the way in. Martha saw Aunty M. come charging into the house as white as a sheet, grabbing the pot right off the stove and a cup, downing it one right after another, nearly drinking the whole pot of Joe before sitting down in the chair, shaking like a leaf as she stared out the window.
She could barely hold the cup in her hand as the screen door slammed shut, and she nearly jumped right out of her chair. Aunty M. begins to pour her another cup. Lizzy stops her. "Alright, Margaret," taking it out of her hands. "I think you've had enough," setting it on the table.
Aunty M. looks at her, grabs the cup, swallows it whole, and slams it before her. "Now I have had enough," she said. Then she sits the cup in front of Lizzy, pours her a cup, and looks her straight in the eye without blinking.
"I don't drink, Joe, you know that, Margaret. It's too strong for me," Lizzy replies.
"Dear, ya will when I tell ya both after what I have to say," and also sits Mary down. "Martha, sorry, dear," passing the tea to her. "Best you can have, dear. Not good for the baby, if you know what I mean," putting some milk, patting her hand. "Now then, where do I begin?"
She pours herself a cup, ensuring everyone has one, and nods. "It was just that other night, you remember," glancing over at the window towards Downing Villa. Mary, Lizzy, and Martha gasp, watching their faces turn white, getting goosebumps as she nods as she tells them her tale about the conversations, she's been having with a party of one called Death. Of course, she left out the marrying part to Lizzy and Mary. Do you know what I mean? Some secrets were best not to be told. Mary and Lizzy dumped the teapot down the sink.
Somehow, as Mary and Lizzy looked at the shadows, "The English
can keep it." Mary said, still shaking, rubbing her arms from the goosebumps, listening to Margaret on the phone.
"Marty, I think we need to double that order," she said as she looked outside at the lumber in the yard. "And start shipping earlier than planned, they say there's a storm coming. I can feel it in my bones. That's right to send some of those down, and the herd will put them on a train and start the next one. That's right. You better get those boys movin'. Thanks, Marty. Mike would be so proud. He is such a good boy, and I bet he is too," she said not waiting for a reply from the shadows.
Aunty M. sends off a telegram before going to bed, then grabs a glass of milk and a couple of drops to help her sleep and turns off the light. Waves goodnight to Martha and Wayne and, yawns, falls to sleep. "If he's safe, let's keep him that way. Keep those other two and his parents from doing any more mischief further away than we can," she said, rubbing her arms, looking down the hall towards EJ's room and out the window. "I hate to break up a party of two, but it must be done for both their sake if my hunch is right," she said in a soft whisper with a nudge.
"Good thinking, Margaret, it is time, past time, goodnight." The voices in the shadows said.
Wayne and Martha make the rounds like they do every night, stopping first in the boy's room and giving each of their sons a kiss on the head. Martha noticed EJ's head was a little bit warm tonight, wiped the sweat off his head, and turned down his sheets. "Maybe he's just hot, that's all," she kisses him. "Goodnight, son," he moves on, places Richard's hand back into bed smiles, then brushes the hair out of Will and Roberts's eyes, whispers, "Goodnight," and then closes the door.