Page 28
Story: No Questions Asked
Three frightened chickens lunged out of the cage and screeched wildly, clearly looking for a safe haven.
Chapter Sixteen
Lexi
I was so terrified, I couldn’t breathe. Floating chicken feathers distorted my view and I swiped at them, trying to fill my lungs with air. At last the plane leveled, and I could breathe again.
Our pilot shouted something at us, either telling us to say our prayers before our imminent death or instructing us to round up the chickens. I didn’t know how either one would be possible. Despite the plane leveling off, we were all bouncing in our seats like freaking bobbleheads, watching as three scared chickens squawked in terror and flew around, shedding their feathers.
To my surprise, Gwen was the first to act. She unbuckled her seat belt and surged into the aisle, holding on to the seats as the plane pitched back and forth. “We’ve got to get them,” she shouted as if we hadn’t already realized that. “Pick them up by pinning their wings from above and lifting them up. That way you won’t hurt them.”
I had to process two important things at once. First, how did Gwen know how to pick up chickens? Secondly, did shereallythink I was going to unbuckle my seat belt during severe turbulence to dash about a plane trying to catch a live chicken?
No. Freaking. Chance.
Everyone who knows me understands that animals and I do not mix. It’s not that I don’t like them, but they’re unpredictable, which makes me anxious. Somehow, they sense my anxiety and try to dominate me. It’s a statistical fact that something unfortunatealwaysseems to happen when we’re together. Therefore, it was logical to assume it would not be a sensible step for me to try to capture the chickens, especially since they likely did not want to be put back into the cage. Not that I begrudged them that. But having me involved in any way in this situation wasnota good plan for anyone, especially the chickens.
Unfortunately, one of the fowl took the opportunity to fly into the cockpit just as we were hit by another batch of turbulence. The pilot, momentarily distracted, sent the plane descending again. I screamed, causing the chickens, and most likely Slash (since he was sitting closest to me) further trauma.
Despite the scary spiral, Gwen somehow managed to shoo the chicken from the cockpit and remain on her feet, allowing the pilot to recover again. The plane leveled off, leaving whatever was left of my stomach another several hundred feet above us.
In the meantime, Slash had unbuckled his seat belt in an attempt to help Gwen. He was larger than Gwen in a more confined space, so that hampered him. He lunged at a chicken, but his movement was stymied by the small aisle. The fowl eluded his efforts and flew directly toward me. I shrieked and held up my hands, mostly to protect my face. It landed on my arm, its claws becoming tangled in my sweater. It screeched and flapped its wings, but was effectively secured to my body.
“Help!” I shouted. “It’s got me!”
“Great job, Lexi!” Gwen shouted back. “Two more to go.”
“No, no, no!” Clearly she didn’t understand what was going on. “You need to get it off me.NOW!”
No one paid any attention to me. Either they couldn’t hear me over the squawking, shouting and whine of the engine, or they deliberately chose to ignore me. That left me alone with the chicken, locked in a fierce battle of wills. My goal was to get it OFF me.
While I struggled with the chicken, Slash and Gwen lurched around the plane like two drunks. The birds were somehow deftly eluding capture, screeching, pecking and filling the cabin with even more feathers and terrified shrieks. Another chicken flew toward the cockpit, but Gwen managed to keep it from entering.
“Get that one,” she shouted as it veered off and headed toward Slash.
He darted out a hand and somehow caught the bird by its feet, swinging it upside down. Amazingly, just as Gwen had said it would, the bird hung there and stopped squawking. I was so surprised, I momentarily gave up the struggle with my chicken and stared in amazement.
That left only one chicken. Gwen jumped toward it just as the rear of the plane dropped a bit, propelling Gwen and the chicken directly toward me.
“Aaaagh!” I shouted as they both landed against me with a thump. I now had two chickens and a woman pinned to my chest.
Holy crap.I was the bottom slice of bread in a chicken sandwich.
“Sorry, Lexi,” Gwen said in a muffled voice against my shoulder.
The chickens, dazed, but still alive, started squirming and squawking. I went into full panic mode until Gwen rose to her feet, triumphantly holding her chicken upside down by the legs. A moment later, Slash managed to remove the chicken stuck to my arm.
“We did it!” Gwen gave a whoop and then planted a kiss on Slash’s cheek and then mine. I pulled a chicken feather out of my mouth, gagged, and tried not to empty the contents of my stomach on the floor.
One by one, Gwen and Slash managed to get the chickens back into the cage and close the door. The pilot shouted at us over his shoulder—maybe a thanks—as Slash wired the cage door closed with a twist tie he took from a piece of electronic gear he had in his carry-on bag.
Finally they stumbled back to their seats. I didn’t move an iota, staring straight ahead, my sweater ripped, my hair and pants covered in chicken feathers. I tried to think positively like Slash had suggested earlier. One good thing, I’d been so thoroughly traumatized by my close-up with the chickens, I’d totally forgotten the plane could crash any minute.
Slash buckled his seat belt, looked over at me. “You okay,cara?”
“Do I look okay?”
He leaned over and plucked a feather from my hair. “You did a good job catching the first chicken considering you don’t like animals much.”
Chapter Sixteen
Lexi
I was so terrified, I couldn’t breathe. Floating chicken feathers distorted my view and I swiped at them, trying to fill my lungs with air. At last the plane leveled, and I could breathe again.
Our pilot shouted something at us, either telling us to say our prayers before our imminent death or instructing us to round up the chickens. I didn’t know how either one would be possible. Despite the plane leveling off, we were all bouncing in our seats like freaking bobbleheads, watching as three scared chickens squawked in terror and flew around, shedding their feathers.
To my surprise, Gwen was the first to act. She unbuckled her seat belt and surged into the aisle, holding on to the seats as the plane pitched back and forth. “We’ve got to get them,” she shouted as if we hadn’t already realized that. “Pick them up by pinning their wings from above and lifting them up. That way you won’t hurt them.”
I had to process two important things at once. First, how did Gwen know how to pick up chickens? Secondly, did shereallythink I was going to unbuckle my seat belt during severe turbulence to dash about a plane trying to catch a live chicken?
No. Freaking. Chance.
Everyone who knows me understands that animals and I do not mix. It’s not that I don’t like them, but they’re unpredictable, which makes me anxious. Somehow, they sense my anxiety and try to dominate me. It’s a statistical fact that something unfortunatealwaysseems to happen when we’re together. Therefore, it was logical to assume it would not be a sensible step for me to try to capture the chickens, especially since they likely did not want to be put back into the cage. Not that I begrudged them that. But having me involved in any way in this situation wasnota good plan for anyone, especially the chickens.
Unfortunately, one of the fowl took the opportunity to fly into the cockpit just as we were hit by another batch of turbulence. The pilot, momentarily distracted, sent the plane descending again. I screamed, causing the chickens, and most likely Slash (since he was sitting closest to me) further trauma.
Despite the scary spiral, Gwen somehow managed to shoo the chicken from the cockpit and remain on her feet, allowing the pilot to recover again. The plane leveled off, leaving whatever was left of my stomach another several hundred feet above us.
In the meantime, Slash had unbuckled his seat belt in an attempt to help Gwen. He was larger than Gwen in a more confined space, so that hampered him. He lunged at a chicken, but his movement was stymied by the small aisle. The fowl eluded his efforts and flew directly toward me. I shrieked and held up my hands, mostly to protect my face. It landed on my arm, its claws becoming tangled in my sweater. It screeched and flapped its wings, but was effectively secured to my body.
“Help!” I shouted. “It’s got me!”
“Great job, Lexi!” Gwen shouted back. “Two more to go.”
“No, no, no!” Clearly she didn’t understand what was going on. “You need to get it off me.NOW!”
No one paid any attention to me. Either they couldn’t hear me over the squawking, shouting and whine of the engine, or they deliberately chose to ignore me. That left me alone with the chicken, locked in a fierce battle of wills. My goal was to get it OFF me.
While I struggled with the chicken, Slash and Gwen lurched around the plane like two drunks. The birds were somehow deftly eluding capture, screeching, pecking and filling the cabin with even more feathers and terrified shrieks. Another chicken flew toward the cockpit, but Gwen managed to keep it from entering.
“Get that one,” she shouted as it veered off and headed toward Slash.
He darted out a hand and somehow caught the bird by its feet, swinging it upside down. Amazingly, just as Gwen had said it would, the bird hung there and stopped squawking. I was so surprised, I momentarily gave up the struggle with my chicken and stared in amazement.
That left only one chicken. Gwen jumped toward it just as the rear of the plane dropped a bit, propelling Gwen and the chicken directly toward me.
“Aaaagh!” I shouted as they both landed against me with a thump. I now had two chickens and a woman pinned to my chest.
Holy crap.I was the bottom slice of bread in a chicken sandwich.
“Sorry, Lexi,” Gwen said in a muffled voice against my shoulder.
The chickens, dazed, but still alive, started squirming and squawking. I went into full panic mode until Gwen rose to her feet, triumphantly holding her chicken upside down by the legs. A moment later, Slash managed to remove the chicken stuck to my arm.
“We did it!” Gwen gave a whoop and then planted a kiss on Slash’s cheek and then mine. I pulled a chicken feather out of my mouth, gagged, and tried not to empty the contents of my stomach on the floor.
One by one, Gwen and Slash managed to get the chickens back into the cage and close the door. The pilot shouted at us over his shoulder—maybe a thanks—as Slash wired the cage door closed with a twist tie he took from a piece of electronic gear he had in his carry-on bag.
Finally they stumbled back to their seats. I didn’t move an iota, staring straight ahead, my sweater ripped, my hair and pants covered in chicken feathers. I tried to think positively like Slash had suggested earlier. One good thing, I’d been so thoroughly traumatized by my close-up with the chickens, I’d totally forgotten the plane could crash any minute.
Slash buckled his seat belt, looked over at me. “You okay,cara?”
“Do I look okay?”
He leaned over and plucked a feather from my hair. “You did a good job catching the first chicken considering you don’t like animals much.”
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