I had, I say, I had, two roosters. And no I am not trying to sound like Foghorn Leghorn, I just feel the need to emphasize the HAD part. We live on a working farm, and on occasion, someone will pull up in the yard wanting to buy livestock. A couple of weeks ago, a fellow showed up wanting to buy a rooster. All the 'passable' roosters had already been sold, and as I was not home to stop him, Jake sold him Big Red. MY Big Red.
The Big Red that started out as a baby Rhode Island Red chick and lived through cats, dogs, weather, a rumble with my daughter in the middle of the night (it's a long story) the other roosters, and even pigs, and was earmarked to take Brewster's place when he caca's his last doodle-doo. Big Red was every bit a gorgeous, mature rooster, and one of the few on the place that has never tried to do me bodily harm, and I love him. Needless to say we had a scene.
I missed him when we were clipping the wings on the hens Sunday night. For some reason it just hit me that I hadn't seen him around in a while.
"Where's Big Red?" I demanded.
My fourteen year old son Jake was standing there with the six feet of three chickens in each hand, and I knew the second I looked at his face that he was at the root of the disappearance. He opened his mouth to speak and I nailed him.
"You sold him, didn't you? Don't even answer 'cuz I know you did. Who to? Don't even tell me 'cuz it doesn't matter, 'cuz yer gonna get him back." He opened his mouth to speak again, and I cut him off again.
"Don't even tell me that you can't, 'cuz yer gonna. I don't care if you have to walk across hot coals. I don't care if you have to brave hell and high water and put your soul in jeopardy, and you lose limbs and body fluids in the process, yer getting Big Red back."
"Kind of attached to him, were you?" He ventured.
"You need to not get lippy with me when your tied down with fifty pounds of chickens." I growled.
"I can dump 'em." He shrugged, but didn't quite pull off the devil-may-care look he was shooting for.
"Then you'll just have to catch 'em again."
"I caught 'em once, I can do it again."
"Stop changing the subject! Who has Big Red?"
"Rocky."
"Rocky who? Don't even tell me 'cuz I don't wanna know. Just call him up and tell him I want my rooster back. How much did you sell him for?"
"Five dollars."
"Are you crazy!?" I shrieked, and all six chickens joined in. Once they all settled down again, I informed him that being a full-blooded Rhode Island Red and over a year old as well, the rooster was worth a minimum of twenty bucks, but if I had chosen to sell him, the price would be a hundred. Since nobody is crazy enough to pay that price, it was a sure bet that he'd still be knocking around the house doing his rooster thing.
"Well, I didn't know." Jake said, his face going red.
"Well that's the funny thing about not knowing. The only cure for it, is asking. I always have my cell phone, why didn't you call me?"
"I don't know."
"And by the way, where's the five bucks?"
"I used it to buy something to drink during baseball practice."
"With the whole five bucks? What'd you buy?! Jack Daniels?!"
"No!"
"Is this 'Rocky', the Rocky that's in the phone list on my cell phone?"
"Yeah."
"All right." I stuck the shears into the dirt at my feet.
"I'll call him up myself."
"No." He said, barring my way to the gate, his arms outstretched, all six chickens just a flappin' and squawkin' to beat the band. "No, don't do that. I'll call him. Give me 'til tomorrow. I'll bring Big Red home." He promised.
"All right then. But you damned well better."
Time was up this morning, and no Big Red adorned my yard, so I called Rocky myself.
"Hey, uh, this is Jake's mother. I...yes, fine, hower you? Good, I...yes he's fine, too, thank you. I, uh, I understand that Jake sold you a rooster a couple of weeks ago. Well, the thing is, that rooster wasn't for sale. I was wondering if I could buy him back from you."
"Well you sure could..." Rocky informed me, with all the warmth and sympathy of a man who knows when a mistake has been made. Rocky immediately found himself a warm, soft, place in my heart for all eternity. Until he finished his sentence.
"...but my wife just called and told me that something broke into the coop and killed all my poultry. That rooster was among 'em. I'm afraid he's dead."
Don't even tell me that.
Naturally the minute I hung up with Rocky I called Jake. Even though it only took four or five seconds to place the call I was already bawling like a baby.
"You might as well not bother about going after Big Red, (sniff) he's...he's...de-he-head!"
"What?! No way!"
"That's what the man said, and I don't know how you're ever gonna make this up to me, Jake." I said, tears clogging up my throat and making my voice sound like I was talking from under water. Poor Big Red. After all he'd been through and managed to survive, he leaves the property for two weeks and he gets killed.
"Mom. Listen to me."
I waited as he shifted the phone from one hand to the other, and then lowered his voice.
"I guarantee you that he's not dead."
"How do you know?"
"Because! Just trust me, I know."
"Are you saying this man is lying to me?" Hope began to dry me up a bit, and at the same time I got a knot in my stomach. "Why would he do that?"
"Because he wants that rooster. He wants a Rhode Island Red and if you knew him like I do, you would know that he's lyin'."
This was all too bizarre to grasp.
"Why would a grown man..."
"First of all he's not a grown man, he's not much older than me, and second of all, he's not the most honest person you'd ever want to meet." He paused and then said, "Look, tonight when we get home, me and Jill will go over to Rocky's and see for ourselves. If we can't spot him, then we'll assume he's telling us the truth. But if we find him...we'll get him. If Rocky's claiming he's dead, then he can't very well come after him."
"No, this is too weird. I won't have you go tromping around on someone else's property, you're liable to get shot. You're gonna have to figure out something else."
"I wouldn't do it if I thought I was gonna get shot. Rocky will be at Bubba's Mud Pit tonight, and I have an open invitation at his house. Guys are coming and going there all the time. He wouldn't ever shoot at anybody."
I was in a real quandary here. I had had wrong done to me by having my rooster sold out from under me. The only thing Rocky was guilty of was paying less for that bird than he was worth, and he had to know it. Even if Big Red was still alive and Rocky was lying to me, by rights, that was his option. He made a deal, and a deal's a deal. By the same token, he made a deal with a minor, who didn't own the property that he traded for, and the law says a contract with a minor, however paltry, is not binding. If Rocky was lying to me, then that spoke to his integrity. In the end, Jake was wrong, and Rocky was wrong for taking advantage of a minor, and making a deal with a kid, and the end result was, I was the one who got hurt. Possibly Big Red as well, but that remained to be seen.
"All right. Here's what you do. You go on over there and see. If you find Big Red, then you call me and I'll come over there. You don't touch anything, you hear me?"
"Fine. But I promise you. We'll find him there, all in one piece."
"I hope you're right."
That evening he and Jill struck out as planned. They were gone less than an hour. When they returned they were both flushed, and sweating, and excited, and I felt like a criminal.
"Well?"
"I snuck up there and had a look around," Jake said, "and I was just getting close enough to make out what was what, when I looked up and saw blue flashing lights headed right at me. It was the sheriff!"
"All right that's it! Enough! It's over. The **** rooster is gone and that's all there is to it. I won't have you getting arrested over..."
"No! No, they weren't after me!" He laughed nervously. "Well, I thought they were and it shook me up, but Roddy Frank and Bud Hendry were drag racing and someone called the cops on them. But it scared me so bad, I ran back to the truck and we took off."
"I don't care! Nice people don't go prowling around other people's property in the dark, and that's all there is to it. It's wrong and that's that. I shoulda' never agreed for you to go in the first place and I want it dropped right now."
"Fine." Jake said. "But I think you should know that Rocky's coop was not broken into, and that he's got a half dozen big birds in there. Didn't he tell you that something got all his poultry?"
"Yeah."
"Well either he replaced them mighty fast, or just like I said, he's lyin'."
Dang it.
(to be cont)
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