I’ve seen the ads on TV – about how when ‘you need to be sure’. But they never address the problem of when you’re afraid to be sure. There I stood, my whole life, existence, boyfriend, parents, adulthood, everything on the line. The supermarket isle stretched out before me like the freaking green mile. I felt me knees giving out and I leaned up against the nearest display. Turning away from my fate (and the fear any of my friends would recognize me) I hurried back out into the parking lot.
I jumped in my car and started to turn the ignition when everything just hit. I hunched over and cried with my head on the steering wheel. I can’t express how utterly alone I felt. There was no one I could confide in, no one who wouldn’t turn away or glare at me with disapproving eyes. My whole world rested on the outcome of some stupid test.
After the sobs started to die down, I sat back and tried to slow my breathing. I hate crying. It makes everything wet and puffy and red. As I wiped my cheeks, movement caught my eye outside the front of the car. This small, white ….chicken was standing directly across the parking lot from me. It was totally weird – no one else seemed to notice him, or at least care.
He watched me with an intensity that I didn’t think chickens could possess. He tilted his head and blinked as I rubbed my eyes. It sounds kinda stupid when I say it aloud, but just watching him watching me was making me feel better. I found myself smiling at the little guy and slowly, I felt a strength return. The same feeling I had in the supermarket, how everything rested on the balance returned, but it wasn’t nearly as scary. I felt ok. Things were going to be ok….and then I knew. Whatever I had or hadn’t gotten myself into, I could handle and my decisions would be sound. I smiled bigger and the chicken tilted his head the other way, sorta fluffed up a little and blinked one more time before turning and making his way down the parking lot.
I made my way back into the supermarket.
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Those roads were always so long, especially at night. I knew them so well, I could probably drive them in my sleep. Heck, half the time I probably did. Well anyway, I remember that night in particular. There was no moon, and few stars even out in the desert. My headlights kept picking up the occasional scrub brush and glowing eyes of some critter as I sped by doing 80 mph. I came up on one of the few turns that highway had and caught a glimpse of a small, white animal up ahead. It stood out so fiercely against the background I thought I was seeing a ghost and slowed down for a better view. As I got closer, I was able to make out the form of a chicken, standing on the edge of the highway, holding its wing out in a funny way, almost like it was hailing me. He seemed fearless and I was in such a state, I had to pull over. As I came to a stop, I leaned over and opened the passenger side door, and almost immediately up came a suitcase with a bunch of stickers all over it. I’ve never figured out how he got that up there…
Leaning back, my surprise growing, this little chicken hopped his way up into my cab and stood there as if he owned the place. He blinked those beady black eyes at me and cocked his head. Not knowing what else to do I tipped my cap and said “I’m going as far as Oakland, but plan on stopping at the state line…” As if in answer, he blinked, clucked softly and turned to face the road, nesting down in my cab.
The miles passed uneventfully. This guy definitely didn’t act like a chicken, more like a man with a mission. He was biding his time, and I was merely a vessel. After a few minutes the silence began to make me feel a little uncomfortable, especially with the way he was looking around the cab like he was studying it. I cleared my throat and glanced over at him. In response, he looked back and blinked slowly. I slapped on a half grin and tried to start up a conversation, against my better wishes and fear of feeling stupid. After all, this was a chicken. Instead of asking questions and having nothing but that silent stare in return, I started talking about myself, which is even stranger, cause the way I was raised, a man didn’t talk unless there was a purpose to it.
I started with my trade – I’ve been driving these roads for 30 years now. Occasionally picking up the hiker, but not much lately…kids don’t do adventure like they used to when I was younger. Too dangerous now, you never know who you are going to run into. These days just guys down on their luck. I started thinking about those guys, the ones you see hanging out at exit ramps in big cities. The tired, dusty looking folks who usually have signs heralding some tale of woe. I’ve passed by so many of them in my lifetime and never really cast a second glance. They tend to blend in after a while and people feel too self conscious, afraid, or just apathetic towards them to do anything about their situation, or even to pass out a sandwich. Heck, most of these people would be happy with that, even though they’d rather have the money for some demon they are always fighting.
I guess my thoughts had been waiting there for this chance, before I knew it I was going on about the whole situation to this little chicken and by god, he was actually listening! I stole a look over a few times and this little guy was watching me with rapt attention, occasionally accentuating my growing outrage over society’s apathy with a “cluck”. The night passed as I went from anger to pity to guilt and finally ended with a burning need to take part in this society and make a mark on it, rather than just drive my days away and remain removed from this experiment called mankind.
I dropped the little guy off at a state line rest stop, at his behest. As I went out and got the door for him (chickens don’t have hands, you know) he was pulling a pamphlet out of his bag and dropped it on the seat of the cab. I pulled his bag out for him and set it on the sidewalk. He hopped out of the cab, as inconspicuously as he entered, wandered over to where I was and looked up at me. I smiled at the little guy and tipped my hat and he nodded in return.
I don’t really know what happened to him after that, but I know he is doing fine. Myself, I picked up that pamphlet he had left me and took it to heart. These days, I’m working as a councilor at a homeless shelter and using the various connections I made over the years to try and get some of these guys jobs and off the street. When I think back on it now, I’m certain this chicken was out there on the road for me. He knew who I was and who I had the potential to be and just placed himself out there to wait.