literal leigh 05 - joyful leigh (14 page)

So being completely ignorant on knowing about latest fringe movements concerning turkey preparation, I just followed Millie’s lead. “Come on. Come on. Up here. Let’s get you into the sink.” Millie attempted to coax the bird to get up on the counter and hop in the sink like it was going to be a comfortable soak in a hot tub.

“Let me see if I can help.” I reached my arms under the big bird and lifted him. Soon he fluttered right into the sink.

“Perfect. Thanks, Leigh. Now to get this boy ready, we need to use the sprayer on your faucet. The water should be nice and warm, but not too hot or this will just be painful. You never want to traumatize him,” Millie said as she sprayed the turkey.
That actually makes sense, otherwise it might not taste very good,
I thought. Millie took a bag that she had slung over her shoulder and set it down. “Now it’s time to dress him.”

Oh my God. Dress him? I know what that means. It means to gut him.
“I…I just don’t know about this Millie. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Oh sure you can. I’ll tell you exactly what to do every step of the way. First, we have to take care of a small detail.” She retrieved a little sharp knife from the bag and placed it in my hand. “Just make a quick cut right here.” Millie’s hand was next to the turkey’s throat. She lifted the little string up, presumably out of the way. Although I didn’t think that little string would have prevented the turkey’s departure to the big turkey farm in the sky.

I covered my eyes with one hand and held the knife out with my very shaky and feeble other hand. I don’t think I could even move that knife. I could feel Millie hold my hand and move it in a quick upwards stroke. “There. Done.”

I dropped the knife and screamed. “No! How could you make me—”

The turkey began to make noises. “Gobble, gobble, puck, puck, gobble.” I felt a sharp little peck on my still outstretched arm. When I uncovered my eyes, I met the curious gaze of the turkey. He cocked his head to the left and then to the right, as if he waited for me to say something. The string had been cut from his neck, but otherwise he was still alive and unharmed.

“Oh! So
that’s
what you wanted to do, take the string off. I thought something else entirely. Like you wanted me to kill it.”

Millie laughed. “Oh, that’s funny. One more reason to love you, Leigh. You have such a great sense of humor.”

“No, I’m serious, Millie. Aren’t we going to cook it?”

Millie looked at me as if I had just told her I was a practicing cannibal and dinner was served. “Good Lord, Leigh! I thought you understood. Didn’t Hunter explain our tradition?”

“No. Not really. I think we were both going on assumptions. What is your tradition?”

“This turkey will be honored and respected. Today, all of us will combine our love and share it with him. Then we’ll beg for forgiveness on behalf of all of the people that are eating turkeys today. Then we will offer it our thanks, a true Thanksgiving turkey.” Millie calmly explained.

“And
then
we cook it?” I asked.

“Heavens no! This turkey will live with you and Hunter for the rest of its natural life. Every Thanksgiving Day you and Hunter will repeat the forgiveness and thankfulness ritual together as a couple.” Mille reached into her bag and took out some strings of brightly colored glass beads and hung them over the turkey’s neck.

Now, I want to be clear. I completely respect anyone’s choice to be a vegan or anything else. The turkey worship, as freaky as it sounds, is fine. But when it is suggested that I must become some sort of turkey whisperer, then the idea sounds just plain nuts. So, when Millie explained what she had planned, I had no choice but to be honest. There was no way in hell that I was going to keep a pet turkey in our house.

“Okay, Millie. I understand not cooking the turkey. I couldn’t eat something that just hours earlier was staring at me, trying to communicate with me even. But as for Hunter and I keeping—”

Marie and Esmeralda returned to the kitchen. Laughter and chattering interrupted my response to Millie. They were engrossed in their own conversation and didn’t notice the turkey standing in the sink until they were standing next to it.

Marie immediately smiled and commented, “Now this takes me back. Nothing better than a fresh turkey the way we used to do it.” She pulled up the long loose sleeves of her silky gown. “We can make a voodoo sacrifice of it first. Allow me.” Marie reached for the knife next to the sink.

“I’ll hold its neck for you,” Esmeralda said.

Millie let out a blood curdling scream, threw her arms around the turkey, and then whisked it out of the kitchen.

“I don’t understand. I thought someone like her would be more tolerant of voodoo.” Marie seemed to be genuinely puzzled by Millie’s reaction.

“No, it wasn’t the voodoo. That turkey is a pet. A pet that she expected Hunter and me to keep in our house and worship every Thanksgiving. Crazy, right?”

Marie seemed to take it in stride. “Ah, I see. It may be a little odd, but trust me, I’ve seen crazier. Speaking of odd, I saw your living room décor. That is quite a style you have in there. It is both erotic and disturbing. Those statues…are they supposed to be funny or serious?”

“Oh, those things. Randy thinks they are some rare works of art by an unknown French artist named Nouille Frotter.”

“No, no no, dear! That’s the name, or title, of the piece of art, not the artist. It is French, but it means something like
rubbing noodles
together. And from the looks of it, the artist wasn’t talking about pasta.”

“Randy,” I growled.

“I take it there will be no turkey served here today?” Esmeralda asked.

“Apparently not. I’ve got some microwaving to do.”

“Microwaving? You have no idea what you’re doing. Do you girl?” Marie shook her head. “Don’t even answer that.” She waved a hand in front of me. “Keep everyone out of the kitchen. Esmeralda, we’ve got some spells to work if people are going to eat anything more than thawed out green beans.”

Chapter Eighteen

A Beast at the Feast

By midday my house was jam packed. My parents arrived, along with Moon, Burt and the kids. My sister Sarah and her husband, Bill, showed up with their kids. Brad arrived as did Luke and Derek. I positioned myself near the door to the kitchen and fended off numerous attempts by my guests to snoop in the kitchen.

Lindsey stopped over by where I was standing. “We’ve got the last of the extra tables and chairs set up. And by the way, that goddamn turkey Millie brought is crapping all over your new living room rug. It won’t stop making those hellacious noises either. Doesn’t she have a cage for it?”

“Oh no! Damn it. No, I don’t think she has a cage. She walked it in on a leash.”

Kelly heard us talking about the turkey and she must have had that “Eureka!” moment when the perfect idea comes to mind. “I’ll take care of the turkey,” she said and left before I could ask her what she had in mind.

Lindsey looked at me nervously. “I wonder what the hell she is planning. She scares me sometimes. Anyway, do you think the food is ready?”

“I have no idea. Could you get everyone seated? I’ll check and see how they’re coming along.” I headed into the kitchen and when I saw what Marie had accomplished, I stopped in my tracks. I still don’t know how they did it, but there was more than enough food. I assume Marie had a way to transport a home cooked Thanksgiving dinner straight from Louisiana.

“Wow! I don’t even know what all of this is, but it smells amazing.” I sniffed the delicious aromas. “Let me guess. Right now some nice Cajun folks have just seen their mouthwatering feast disappear into thin air.”

“No, not quite. You don’t know this, but I have invested heavily in several restaurants in Louisiana. There is more than enough. Straight from down home we have Cajun fried turkey, black eyed peas, dirty rice, creole eggplant, maquechoux, okra with tomatoes, cornbread dressing, shrimp and Andouille dressing,
crawfish étouffée
, Cajun fried alligator, and three different sweet potato dishes, red beans and rice, grilled green beans, and of course pies. And Esmeralda, I hope you paid attention to how it was done. After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“And all this time I thought it was through the ribcage with a sharp knife,” Esmeralda replied.

I was so happy to see that Thanksgiving would be a hit. “I’ll never be able to claim that I made any of it. I’m just going to tell everyone that you offered to cater us an authentic Louisiana Thanksgiving meal. Thank you so much, Marie. You’ve saved me again.”

“You see, Leigh. These are the kinds of things you should use your magic on,” Esmeralda advised. “Not for torturing the men in your life.”

“Ouch. Thanks, Esmeralda. I’ll keep that in mind.” I went to enlist some help to bring out the food. When I looked around the table, I noticed Hunter’s fading but still visible contusion on his forehead from Halloween, and a small bare patch above his ear from the hair that was forcibly ripped out by the roots when we took the cat costume off. Burt was looking pale and weak from the emergency surgery on his penis. Bill was still making the odd seal noises at random times. Brad looked unscathed, but his bumps and bruises were likely on his ego after what he’d been through. The same could be said for Luke and Derek, or even my dad. Randy got off pretty easy with a temporary vampire stint. Altogether, these men had more spells thrown on them than a magician’s rabbit would see in a lifetime. Perhaps Esmeralda had a point about torturing the men in my life.

We proudly carried the loaded serving dishes out to the tables. Before everyone chowed down, I had a couple of things to say. “I’m so happy and thankful that all of you are here. I want to let you know that in the holiday spirit, I’ve set up a charity for the shelters. If you can, please help. It’s for a great cause. Now for the best news. As you already know, Hunter has asked me to marry him and I have said yes. I have been nervous because our families don’t know each other, but I am hoping that with a little patience, everyone here today will get to know more about our two families. I am so happy to finally be a MILF.”

Randy had just taken a drink of water and I thought he must have gotten it down the wrong pipe. He suddenly sprayed a mouthful of water into the air.

“And as I look around the table, I see all of you other MILFs—Millie, my mom, Gertie, Moon, and Sarah. And I am going to also say, you too, Lindsey. In a way, everyone here is a MILF.” I knew something was wrong. Luke and Derek tried to contain their laughter, and from the strange noises they made, they barely succeeded. I saw tears run down their bobbing, clenched faces. My mom, Sarah, Moon, and Kelly looked at me like bug-eyed lemurs. Hunter, Bill, Burt, Brad, and my dad were stone faced, as if they had cast an eye on Medusa herself. A giddy little round of applause came from Gertie and Lindsey.

I leaned over to my mom, “What? Did I say something wrong?”

My mom whispered in my ear, “You said MILF.”

“MILF? Is that what’s so funny to you guys?” I looked directly at Luke and Derek. That’s when they lost their damn minds. They were literally caught in a very animated fit of knee slapping laughter. “MILF, Magically In Love Forever is a funny thing? Kelly, Lindsey? Would you please slap the smiles off those jackasses?”

“Leigh, MILF is an acronym that means Mom I’d Like to Fuck, not Magically In Love Forever,” my mom whispered in my ear.

“Really? That’s sick! Wait a sec. How would you know that and I didn’t?” I thought about it and realized that I had only overheard the acronym being used a few times. I probed around my brain, trying to remember who it was that told Lindsey and me that it meant “Magically In Love Forever.” Kelly. Yes, it was Kelly. I tried my best to give her an evil eye, but by then she was guffawing and hardy-har-harring with Luke, Derek, and Randy like drunken clowns.

“Well,” I said and coughed. I needed to shift the topic fast. “Now, in keeping with the theme of Thanksgiving Day awkwardness, we have a special guest of honor. Hunter’s parents, Millie and Max, would like to share their tradition with us. Millie? Would you hold your…memorial now?”

Millie stood up and began to preach. “Thank you, Leigh. Everyone, as you know, Thanksgiving Day feasts have traditionally included turkey on the menu. Max and I have a tradition that memorializes all of those beautiful birds. Today we will all join together and profess our love for our feathered friends, apologize to the turkey for our murderous history, and finally we will beg for its forgiveness. Children, please bring the turkey in.” The stunned guests were completely silent at first.

My dad’s mouth made a chewing motion. I’m pretty sure he was chomping on a scathing vitriolic response that was bubbling up from inside of him. I could only imagine the number of ways he was about to tell Max and Millie that they were lunatics that should be committed to an insane asylum. Luke, Derek, and Randy were still red faced and watery eyed from their last bout of uncontrollable laughter. I could see them watching intently. Their stupid mouths hung open and they elbowed each other with anticipation of the punchline that was Millie’s hippie turkey.

I had an idea. I whispered to my mom, “Do you have a pen in your handbag?”

“Of course, I always do.” With her pen, I doodled two cows on a paper napkin.

“Hunter, please pass this napkin to Luke and Derek.” As soon as they saw the reminder of their bovine days, and the not so veiled threat I implied, they sobered right up. “Be nice.” I mouthed the words so they could plainly read my lips.

“Grandma! The turkey is asleep,” Moon’s oldest girl said as she carried the limp bird in her arms. The love beads dangled down from his flaccid neck that hung down to the floor. With each little step the girl took, the turkey’s head bounced and swung in circles.

“Oh my God! What happened?” Millie rushed from her chair and retrieved the turkey. Max cleared a spot on the table in front of them and Millie laid the big bird out on its back. The thing looked quite dead to me.

“And there it is,
Schrödinger's turkey,” Randy said flatly.