Pecked to Death (7 page)

Luke ignored her as he moved closer to Vaslilssa and gave her a kiss on each cheek. She rested her hands on his shoulders and Sadie realized they were almost the same height.

“’Ello,” the woman said, bestowing her attention on Sadie.

“’Ello, guvna,” Sadie said. “I would love to stick around and feel short awhile longer, but those fried chickens aren’t going to sell themselves.” She closed the box they had dug from under the tree and tucked it under her arm. “Luke, thanks for the help.” She nodded in his direction, not quite making eye contact. “Vaseline, nice to meet you.” She nodded at the behemoth beauty before trouncing home.

She had barely enough time to change into her chicken outfit before work. The day was already a scorcher and it wasn’t yet noon. Forecasters were calling for a record high. Sadie had done her best not to watch the weather lately, but Gideon kept the news on twenty four seven when he was home. The reminder of her old job was as oddly painful as the sight of Luke’s towering girlfriend.

They were standing in the front yard now. “Ees giant chicken,” Vaslilssa said as she pointed to Sadie. Sadie threw them a one-winged wave without looking. She could probably save herself some sweat by not donning the chicken head until she got to work, but she preferred to wear it at all times when she was in the suit to keep from being recognized. That was probably why she almost caused a pileup on the freeway—more than one person turned to stare, presumably trying to figure out why a chicken was driving a Toyota.

“Make sure and drink plenty of water today,” the chicken restaurant manager, Ray, told her. “It’s supposed to be a hot one.”

“Thanks,” Sadie said, touched by his thoughtfulness. He had seemed like such a rat until now.

“Company policy,” he said, destroying any notion of his kindness. “I couldn’t care less if you live or die.”

“Good to know,” Sadie said. She filled a cup with ice and water and headed outside. Today’s sign was thematic to coincide with the weather, proclaiming, “If your goose is cooking in your kitchen, come cool your heels and eat our chicken!” Who thought of these things? Certainly not the monosyllabic Ray. Was there someone at corporate headquarters who was paid to think of pithy sayings? Sadie amused herself for a while by imagining how her job came to be.
Sales are down for the third quarter in a row. We need to take emergency measures. I know! We’ll post a bunch of words on a sign and hire a chicken to carry them back and forth like he’s on strike. That will pull customers by droves!
Instead it drew a bunch of odd looks, laughter, and rude remarks. Sadie paid the gawkers no mind. No one knew who she was behind the mask. This must be how superheroes felt—the anonymity was empowering. Of course superheroes saved the world and Sadie paced back and forth on the same five feet of sidewalk. But, still, the principle was the same.

The heat began to take its toll. The sun was directly overhead, the humidity high. She did feel a little like a roasted chicken inside the suit. She picked up her water and quickly realized there was no way to feed the straw and cup through her beak. In order to drink, she would have to remove her head. No way—not while someone passing by might see her. She was only working four hours. What was the worst that could happen? So she got a little sweaty; that was nothing the suit hadn’t seen before.

A half hour later, she stopped sweating and started to shiver. Ten minutes after that, she was lying face down on the sidewalk, her beak open between two cracks like she was having a conversation with the ants who made their home there. She was somewhere between coherent and unconscious as several thoughts ran through her head. The first was that roasting to death in a chicken suit seemed like an apropos ending. The second was that her shift was finished and her pay wouldn’t be docked. Why that seemed important when she was most likely about to die she didn’t know.

“Goodbye cruel world,” she said, testing the words to see how they felt. They felt good. The world had been cruel lately. She closed her eyes and prepared to breathe her last steamy breath when someone nearby spoke.

“Not today, Chicken Little,” a male voice said. He rolled her over and began dragging her by her oversized feet. She tried to see if the man was friend or foe, but he dragged her over a bump in the sidewalk and everything faded to a hazy sort of gray.

“Hello. Can you tell me your name?”

Sadie realized it wasn’t the first time the man had said the phrase. She came to with a start. Beside her stood a nice looking man in a white lab coat. His hair was strawberry blond, his nose spattered with freckles. “Doogie Howser?” she asked.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” he said. “Or is that your name? Were your parents that cruel, or were you making fun of me?”

She closed her eyes against the barrage of questions. “I can’t afford a hospital,” she mumbled.

“Neither can I,” he said. “Who can at today’s prices?”

He didn’t sound like a doctor. Was he? She risked opening her eyes again. Overhead, there were no glaring fluorescent lights. Instead she saw a cheap ceiling fan and cracked plaster. “Where am I?”

“At my house.”

“That’s only reassuring if you’re not a serial killer,” Sadie said. She attempted to sit up. He pushed her back down.

“I would prefer you to be a little more stable before you attempt to sit up, Miss. Can you tell me your name?”

“Sadie Cooper.”

“Good, that’s what your identification said. Now can you tell me why you’re dressed like a giant chicken?”

“I was working.” Her head was missing. She glanced around frantically. If she lost the head, she would have to pay for it herself. With a sigh of relief, she located it a few feet away, staring balefully at her from a nearby chair.

“What’s a woman who looks like you doing wearing a suit like that?” he asked.

“What’s a guy who looks like you doing wearing a lab coat in his house?” she countered.

“I was just leaving the hospital; I’m a resident,” he explained.

“So you’re sort of a doctor,” she said.

“A doctor with training wheels,” he said. She liked his self-deprecating sense of humor. Most doctors she had dated had been filled with egotistical self-importance.

“And your hobby is to stop at the side of the road and drag hapless chickens to your car.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You would be surprised how many oversized chickens die for lack of good medical care. It’s a specialized area, but one I find rewarding. Do what you love and the money will follow—that’s my motto.”

“Never look a gift doctor in the mouth, that’s mine. Thanks for helping me out. I
really
cannot afford to go to the hospital.”

“Who says I’m not charging for services rendered?” he said.

“The same person who said you can’t practice medicine without a license,” she said. “Don’t try to fool me; you wanted extra practice at home so you can impress the other residents with your expertise.”

“You caught me,” he said. “Tomorrow is mascot day, the day we treat all the area restaurant mascots. Whoever treats the most chickens at the end of the day is the winner—I’m one up on the competition.”

“So when you think about it, I’m doing you a favor. You should be paying me.”

“I should,” he agreed. “You’re undoubtedly the prettiest chicken I’ve ever dragged here.”

They shared a smile. Sadie still felt a little woozy. The ice packs he had placed on her neck, head, and feet were starting to sting, but she was enjoying the chance to banter with him. “You’re not from around here,” she said. “I would remember.”

“By that you mean I wasn’t part of your fan club in high school,” he said. “And you’re right. I’m from Michigan.”

“How did you end up here? Med school?”

He shook his head. “My college roommate is from here. We were still roommates until yesterday. Now he’s moving and I’m looking for a replacement.” He eyed her with a tilt of his head. “I don’t suppose you’re interested. Obviously you shed, but I’m not allergic to feathers.”

Sadie shook her head. “Sorry. I’m only in town a couple of weeks.”

“Then where are you going?”

“Good question,” she said.

“You’re one of those go-wherever-the-wind-takes-you kind of people?” he guessed.

“I’m one of those get-away-from-all-the-pain-and-misery-of-my-past type people,” she replied.

“Aren’t we all,” he said. The front door banged and he turned to look. Sadie tried and failed to see the newcomer over the tips of her feet. “We’re having chicken for dinner,” her rescuer announced. “You have to do the plucking.”

“No thanks,” Luke said. “I’ve seen what’s inside this one. She’s rotten.”

The doctor looked back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”

“Best friends from cradle to grave, isn’t that what we used to say, Luke?” Sadie said.

“We used to say a lot of things,” Luke said. He leaned in the doorway and surveyed her. “What happened?”

“She overheated and passed out,” the doctor said. Sadie realized she didn’t know his name.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Hal,” he said.

“Hal?” she repeated. “I’ve never met a Hal before.”

“Is she okay?” Luke interjected.

“She looks pretty good to me,” Hal said. “Are you here to claim her?”

“I could take her home,” Luke said. “I just came by for another load of my stuff.”

Sadie started to sit up. Hal pushed her back down again. “Why don’t you take off the suit? You need to air out a little.”

“I can’t,” Sadie said.

“I really think you should,” Hal said.

“I’m not wearing anything but my skivvies under here,” Sadie admitted.

Luke clapped his hands over his ears. “Sadie!”

“He does that every time I say I’m naked,” Sadie said.

“He’s always been odd,” Hal said.

Sadie nodded her agreement.

“I, on the other hand, have no problem with nudity. Now that I’m a doctor, I’m impervious. It’s like staring at a blank wall. Take off the suit and I’ll prove it.” Hal said. He sat back and folded his hands, waiting.

“Ignore him,” Luke commanded. “Wear something of mine and I’ll get it back later.”

“Won’t Anna Karenina be upset?” she asked.

“She trusts me,” Luke said.

“She sounds smart,” Sadie said.

“She is,” Luke said. “She’s a scientist.”

She turned to Hal. “He said that without using air quotes.” To Luke she added, “Was that what her paperwork said when you took her out of the crate from Russia?”

Hal laughed. “I like you,” he blurted.

She beamed at him. Finally, someone was in her corner.

“I’m not going to reply to that,” Luke said. He disappeared into a room and returned a minute later with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Sadie tried and failed to unzip the chicken suit. She was shakier than she wanted to admit. Hal reached out to help, but Luke bumped him aside and unzipped her. “Turn around,” he commanded Hal. They both turned while Sadie shimmied out of the suit and dressed herself in Luke’s too-big clothes.

“Last time I borrowed your clothes we wore the same size,” she noted, feeling a hint of sadness for their long-lost past.

The men took that as their cue to face her again. “Last time you borrowed my clothes you didn’t give them back. I still miss my lucky shirt.”

“That shirt wasn’t lucky until I wore it,” she said.

“I don’t think it was lucky until you took it off,” Hal said. He added a lascivious eyebrow wiggle for good measure and Sadie laughed.

“Don’t encourage her to take her clothes off,” Luke said. To Sadie he added, “Don’t encourage him to be himself.”

“Wow, you roomed with him in college and then chose to stick around after. Did you feel the need for daily confession with Father Lucas?” Sadie asked.