by Kelly Jones
We watched the dark brownish-gray chicks paddle around.
One of them walked out of the pond and ran over toward the feeder. The rest followed. I held my breath when they jostled the light gray chick.
Slowly it got up. It looked at me, took a few steps, and opened its beak.
A tiny flame shot out.
Lupe grabbed my hand and held it tight.
The light gray chick wandered back to the apple core and began pecking at it.
“Maybe it’s a new species?” Lupe said.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Hort says none of the parent chickens breathe fire.”
Lupe took a deep breath. She let it out, very slowly. “Okay. So the problem is that you have a fire-breathing chicken. What do we need to do?”
I shook my head. “The problem is that farms are flammable, not that I have a chicken with a new superpower.”
Lupe thought that over. “You guys did a good job making everything fireproof,” she said. “I’m glad your friends helped you. It’s only breathing small flames now, but that’s still pretty scary. People could get hurt if this doesn’t work.”
“Right,” I said. “Hort told the unusual chicken inspectors that they have to come check things out. If they don’t think I can keep it safely, they’ll take my chick away.”
“Don’t you want them to?” Lupe asked.
I stared at the light gray chick. “I want to try to keep it safely here with its family.”
“Okay,” Lupe said. Her voice was only a little shaky now. She took a few deep breaths. “When we have a problem, we ask ourselves who the helpers are.”
“Chris and Sam helped me today,” I told her.
She nodded. “Who else? Who knows the most about chickens, or about these chickens?”
“The inspectors might know the most, I guess, but I don’t know how to reach them,” I told her. “Hort and Betty know way more than I do. But I can’t mail a chick that’s going to burn up the box, and I don’t want to give my chick away.”
Lupe nodded. “Okay. Who here knows the most about chickens?”
“Ms. O’Malley knows a lot,” I told her. And even though my stomach was twisting all around, I added, “And Ms. Griegson. She knows a lot about chickens, she has a dangerous kind herself, and she trained here with Agnes.”
“Is she a helper?” Lupe asked me.
I put my brain on its “what is fair” setting. “She’s a helper to chickens. But she hasn’t been a helper to me.”
“So this Ms. Griegson has the expertise, but she might think she’d be the better person to raise your chick.” Lupe sat up straight and put her thinking-hard face on.
“She can’t,” I told her. “Agnes didn’t trust her judgment.”
“I’m not giving your chick away, Soficita,” Lupe said. “But we have to problem-solve so the inspectors won’t take it, right?”
I looked down at the hole in my sneaker, and nodded. “Sometimes I try so hard, and then things still don’t work out. Probably they’re going to take my chick anyway. Maybe I should just let them.”
I looked up just as the light gray chick let out another tiny burst of flame, then rubbed its beak on its shoulder, like it was wiping its nose. I held my breath as it wandered over to the other chicks. But it only joined the crowd at the feeder, pecking at the chick food. I guess it’s a good thing the other chicks are always covered in water, since they didn’t move away from it.
“Look, Soph. I don’t want to scare you,” Lupe said. “But you know that if they decide that chick is too dangerous for you, they might not let you keep your other chickens either. I mean, you have a chicken that turns people to stone, right?”
“Only her chicks can do that—and I don’t have a rooster, so she can’t have chicks. And only raccoons, maybe, not people,” I told her. But my heart was pounding now. There was no way I was going to sit back and let them take ALL my chickens. “Okay. What do we do next?”
“Maybe you should talk to this Ms. Griegson,” Lupe said. “Ask her what you need to know, and see what she says.”
I sighed. “Maybe. But Ms. Griegson makes me nervous. So how am I going to ask her everything I need to, and then remember her answers too?”
Lupe squeezed my hand. “Could you write her a letter instead? What do you need to know from her?”
I thought hard. “Whether Agnes ever had a chicken like this, or was trying to breed one. What Agnes did when a new kind of chicken hatched.”
Lupe nodded. “Good questions. Do you think she’ll answer them truthfully?”
I knew Ms. Griegson loved unusual chickens, even if she didn’t like me. “Yeah, she will. It’s just that once she finds out, she might do everything she can to take my chick, or all my chickens. What if she tells my parents it isn’t safe for me to keep them?”
“Well, you already told your parents yourself what this one can do,” Lupe said. “Maybe they would believe her. But what if we did everything we could first to make things safe? Then the town wouldn’t really be any safer if she had it, right?”
I nodded slowly.
“We need an expert on fire prevention—someone Ms. Griegson and your parents respect. Let’s find a fireman,” Lupe said, getting up.
“Okay. We’ll start at the library,” I told her. Ms. O’Malley knows everyone and who does what, and they all listen to her.
When I told Ms. O’Malley that I was raising new chicks and was worried things might catch on fire, her eyes went wide for a moment. But she nodded. “Yes, you’d better go to the fire department and talk to Al Tomei. Try after two o’clock today. Just say that I sent you, that you inherited Redwood Farm’s chickens, and that it’s important that the department give you whatever help they can, as soon as possible.”
I nodded.
“It’s just down the street, across from the thrift store,” Ms. O’Malley said.
“Thanks.” I looked down at her desk and gathered up my courage. “I’m going to ask Ms. Griegson if she knows anything that could help me. But, uh, if you hear her telling people that I don’t know how to take care of my chickens, would you let me know?”
Ms. O’Malley put her hands on her hips. “Sophia Brown, you have checked out every single chicken book in this library multiple times. Agnes left her farm to you. Who would be better prepared than you to care for your chickens?” She folded her arms. “If you have any more problems with Sue Griegson, you come straight to me.”
As we drove home to have some late lunch before dealing with the fire department, Lupe turned to me. “You know, Soficita, a lot of people here do respect you. That librarian really thinks you can do this.”
I nodded. When I moved here, I didn’t think Ms. O’Malley would ever be someone who had my back. But now I think she’d do her best to help me. I don’t think there’s much she could do about an unusual chicken inspector, though. “I guess they respect me because Agnes trusted me with her chickens,” I told her.
Lupe squeezed my hand. “Well, I knew you first, and I think you can do it too.”
I wish you were here, Abuelita. I know you would believe me. But since you can’t be with us, I’m really glad Lupe is here.
Te extraño mucho,
Soficita
Saturday, September 20
Mariposa García González
Heaven
Querida Abuelita,
Lupe and I went back to town this afternoon.
Al Tomei turned out to be an Asian lady with short gray hair and lots of muscles who was wearing a fire-department uniform. I told her what Ms. O’Malley told me to say, and she didn’t freak out, but she did start moving very quickly. She yelled at someone named John to take over for her, asked if we needed the ladder truck, and nodded when Lupe explained that we needed a safety consultation. She told us to meet her at Redwood Farm.
When we got there, we found Al watching the light gray chick breathe little spikes of flame. She still wasn’t freaking out. I took that as a good sign.
“That’s the potential threat?” Al nodded at the light gray chick.
I stood up as straight and tall as I could. “No. That’s one of my new chicks that just hatched. It’s not a threat. We just need to make sure it doesn’t cause any accidents.”
Al thought about that for a moment, and nodded. “Good thing you came to me, then.” She examined the duck coop carefully. “Nice setup,” she said, and I started to breathe again. “Are you going to let it out of the coop?”
I bit my lip. “Well, I’d like to, when it’s older. But not until we learn more about it.”
Al nodded. “We can do a reevaluation later, to make certain there’s no areas of concern. So, for now, we just need to concentrate on the area around the coop, in case its range increases or anything unexpected happens. Correct?”
Lupe was staring at Al. “Have you done this before?” she asked.
Al looked at Lupe and grinned. “You’re new here,” she said. Then she looked at me. “Agnes was a good friend,” she told me. “The safety of the community is my main concern, but as long as your setup is safe, we’re good.”
She pulled a brochure from her pocket and handed it to me. “Let’s go over how to make a fire-safety zone surrounding the coop. You can use our safety recommendations for farm welding shops as a model—this chick doesn’t have nearly the heat or range of a welding torch. We’ll go over what you need to do, and then I’m going to give you a week to get things set up. Next weekend, I’ll come back out to inspect for any risks we might have missed.”
I nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Thank you for coming to me. It’s good to be at Redwood Farm again,” she said.
Creating a fire-safety zone meant pulling up dead plants and spreading more gravel in the area that Al helped us measure out. The brochure had a checklist, and it felt good to look down the list and know that we were doing everything we could to keep everybody’s farms from burning up.
Al got us started, then gave us her card and went back to the fire station.
“Feel better?” Lupe asked, stopping to stretch.
“Kind of,” I told her, squishing down the dead plants in the bucket so I could fit more in. “I just want to know that everything will be okay, so I can stop worrying.”
Lupe shook her head. “Soficita, no one ever really knows that. Not for sure. The best we can do is to try our hardest.” She smiled. “I’m pretty sure you’re trying your hardest.”
I didn’t feel like smiling, though. What if there’s something I could be doing that I haven’t thought of yet? Maybe that gray chick is the only one in the world with that superpower. What if I can’t keep it safe?
It used to be easy to know what was right and to try my best to do it. So why is it so hard now?
Te extraño,
Soficita
Sunday, September 21
Jim Brown
Heaven
Dear Great-Uncle Jim,
I felt bad we didn’t build a chicken coop for the place where Sam’s granddad lives, like we’d planned to yesterday. So I asked Lupe if she would help us build one today instead.
Lupe sighed. “I wish I could, but I have to figure out where I can volunteer for the hours your parents are making me do. Do you know anyone that might want a brilliant teacher-in-training to help them out?”
I thought for a minute. And then I had my best idea ever. “Yes! I want to start a building-stuff club at my school, but we need a teacher or parent to lead it, and no one has time. Would you be our leader?”
“Well, I’m not exactly a teacher, and I’m not a parent….” Then Lupe grinned. “But if your school would make an exception for me, it would be so fun! I bet I could even do one of my education presentations on the experience.”
“I think they’d make an exception, especially if it was for college!” I said.
“Then I guess we’d better go build that coop and take some pictures, so they can see my skills!” Lupe said, smiling. “I do have one condition, though. You have to actually write to Ms. Griegson, like we talked about.”
I don’t want to write to her. But Lupe is right, and I told her so. I’ll do it next, and I’ll put it in the mail first thing tomorrow.
Love,
Soph
PS It’s going to be the best coop ever. And the best club ever too!
PPS I really, really, really, really don’t want to write to Ms. Griegson.
Sunday, September 21
Sue Griegson
Briar Farm
Ms. Griegson,
Thank you for writing to me and offering to help. I do have some questions.
Do you know if Agnes was trying to breed new kinds of unusual chickens?
What did Agnes do when a new kind of chicken hatched?
It’s okay if you don’t know the answers. Other people are helping me too.
Sincerely,
Sophie
PS Did you ever meet the unusual poultry inspectors? What did Agnes do when they came?
Ms. Sophie Brown
Redwood Farm
Dear Sophie,
Thank you for writing to me. I promise to tell you everything I know, but unfortunately it isn’t much.
If Agnes was trying to breed any new varieties of chicken, she never told me about it. Redwood Farm was for continuing existing breeds and making them available to poultry farmers who could care for them and appreciate them.
As far as I know, Agnes never hatched any new breeds, only the occasional color variation.
Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you.
Sincerely,
Sue
PS I didn’t finish my apprenticeship with Agnes. And I’ve never even heard of an unusual chicken inspector. I’m sorry.
UNUSUAL POULTRY COMMITTEE,
NORTHERN CALIFORNIA DIVISION
Tuesday, September 23
Ms. Sophie Brown
Redwood Farm
Gravenstein, CA 95472
Dear Ms. Brown,
I am requesting permission for an observational visit to Redwood Farm this Saturday, September 27, at 2:00 p.m., in order to obtain additional information for an important upcoming Committee decision.
I believe you’ve already been informed about this possibility, but if you will not be able to be present for this appointment, or if you have additional questions, please feel free to contact the division secretary at (707) 578-8938. Otherwise, I’ll see you at Redwood Farm on Saturday.
Sincerely,
Inspector Lee
Date: Thursday, September 25
To: Hortensia James
From: Sophie Brown
Subject: RE: RE: NOT Doomed Poultry Farmer (maybe) (if I’m really lucky)
Dear Hort,
The inspector is coming this Saturday. I’m trying hard not to be mad at you. I’ve been working with the fire department to do my best to make everything safe.
Just thought you might want to know.
Soph
Friday, September 26
Jim Brown
Farmhalla
Dear Great-Uncle Jim,
There’s no point in moping around, waiting for inspection day. So I’ve been keeping busy.
Yesterday afternoon we took the chicken coop we built to the retirement home. Xochi’s cousin Alexis showed us where to set it up. He’s about Lupe’s age, and he works there helping people during the day, and goes to nursing school at night. He has a black ponytail and dark brown skin and a
really great smile. I bet Lupe wished she wore her cute jeans instead of her building-stuff jeans.
It took us a while, but we got everything set up. Lupe made sure the coop was stable, and Xochi helped Sam put the new chickens inside, and Chris organized the supplies, and I thumbtacked the schedule to the coop wall, so everyone would know when it was their turn to feed the chickens.
There was a little boy visiting somebody with his dad who kept watching us through the window. Alexis went in to ask if they wanted to come out and meet the chickens. That boy must have opened and shut the little egg-collection door about twenty times. Finally, the dad said they had to go, but maybe they could come back tomorrow and see the chickens again. That kid looked like someone told him he could go to the zoo!
The receptionist took a photo of all of us standing in front of the new coop, with the “Welcome Chickens” sign their art class made. The kitchen staff have been collecting scraps that are good for chickens, and Alexis already made sure everyone on the schedule knows how to feed the chickens and change their water and collect their eggs. (Sam gets to clean the coop.)
“It’s no problem,” Alexis told us when Sam told him how much she appreciated it. But Sam’s going to make cookies for them all anyway.
I’m glad I got to work on this. Now Sam’s granddad can watch chickens, and so can Sam, when she goes to visit him there, and Alexis can when he’s at work too. I’m already thinking about who else could probably use a chicken coop. Any place where people have to wait around would love one, I bet, as long as someone can take good care of the chickens.
Love,
Soph
Saturday, September 27
Agnes Taylor
Heaven
Dear Agnes,
Today Lupe helped me pick out the right poultry-farmer outfit. Then we picked up all my friends and drove to Redwood Farm to get things ready for the inspector’s visit.