My Heart's in Alabama

6 - Kiersten

I walk around back, keeping an eye out for Teddy and secretly hoping I don't find him. I check all the usual spots - the barn, the lake, the peach orchard, the tool shed - but he's nowhere to be found. All right, well, I think to myself as I slowly back away, can't say I didn't try.

I tip toe a little further towards the road and off the property. If I'm careful maybe I can just sneak away without anyone noticing....

"You tryin' steal from my family, little miss?"

My head whips around. It's Teddy, I know it is, but I don't see him anywhere. He lets out a sharp and short, high pitched whistle. My head whips around again. It sounds like it's coming from behind me, but seriously, I swear, I can't see him anywhere.

I stumble around a bit, confused, straining my eyes, and then there's laughter. Deep, ominous laughter from above. My head shoots up and, gosh darn it, that son of a gun was sitting in a tree, grinning his little butt off.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," Teddy chuckles, all smug up in his tree.

"I'm serious," I say and boy, am I. "I'd be very careful about the next batch of cookies I bake you."

Teddy looks down at me, literally and figuratively, and smiles. You know the kind. The oh-you're-so cute, pat on the head type of smiles.

"What?"

Teddy tries to contain the smug look on his face, but we both know it's there.

"Seriously. What?"

"Word of the wise, Kiers," he says and kicks his feet up on the nearest branch. "Poisoning someone ain't gonna work if you warn 'em first."

Darn it. I think, and my shoulders slump in disappointment. He's right.

Well, fine then. I guess I'll just have to do it the old fashioned way. Like say, I don't know, pushing him out of a tree.

I reach my arms towards the lowest hanging branch, but stupid, little arms are too short. Okay, no problem, I think. I try jumping. Doesn't work. I try jumping again, this time with more effort. Doesn't work. I try getting a running start. Still doesn't work.

Wow, this is embarrassing.

"Don't you laugh at me."

"I'm ain't laughin', I'm, uh, clearing my throat," Teddy says and adds a fake cough for good measure.

Thoroughly ticked off, I put my hands on my hips and tap my foot at him like a disappointed Pageant mom whose darling Paisley Marie dropped her baton during the talent competition.

"What are you doing up there anyway?"

"Chicken got loose."

Teddy says, as if that's an adequate explanation.

"And...?"

"And I need a bird's eye view, girl, come on now."

Well, I admit angrily to myself, that does make sense.

"Shoot, and you're supposed to be the smart one."

"I am the smart one," I assert with confidence, determined to prove Teddy wrong. "In fact..."

My eyes dart back and forth looking for any signs of a chicken. Just my luck, I see what I think is a little tail feather peek out from the window of an old, broken down playhouse that I think was Teddy's father's when he was a boy.

"I bet she's in there."

"Where?" Teddy says with skepticism.

"The playhouse. The critter's use it for shelter and storage, I'm sure. There must be a year's worth of nuts and acorns in there. Your little chicken is probably in there having a feast."

I state my theory proudly and matter-of-factly, and despite completely pulling it completely out of my ass, Teddy seems to buy it. Slowly, he climbs down from the tree and the two of us walk over to the playhouse to put my theory to the test. My heart pounds as Teddy pulls open the door to the playhouse gingerly. I hold my breath. Please don't let me be wrong.

"Well, I'll be damned," he says in awe.

Just like I said, there she is, huddled in the corner pecking away at a pile of acorns.

"Good work," he says with a wink. "Now for the hard part, you found her, but can you catch her?"

I look at him, completely confused. I may be a country girl, but that doesn't mean I know the first thing about wrangling chickens. I'm more of a sit on the porch with some tea kind of country than a rolling in the mud kind of country.

"What do you mean? She's your chicken."

"Hey, I'm not the one with a debt to pay."

I give Teddy my best "are-you-serious" look, and let me tell you, he is. He really wants me to try to catch this chicken. Me, the most unathletic person ever.

"Go ahead," he says. "Walk up behind her slowly, bend down and gently - and I mean very gently - scoop her up."

"That's it?" I say sarcastically.

Growing up in a small country town, I've seen many a neighbor spend hours running around trying to catch their loose chickens.

"That's all there is to it," Teddy says, who of course, has done this so many times over the years, he can probably do it in his sleep.

"Go on," he says and gives me a little nudge.

Rolling my eyes, I squat down and take baby steps into the playhouse.

"Make sure you stay behind her," Teddy whispers.

I shake my head, but do as Teddy instructs. Step by tiny step I get closer and closer. Everything seems to be going okay, but right as I reach my arms out she flaps her wings, causing me to take a few steps back so I don't startle her further.

"Shh, shh, shh," Teddy says, "it's all right."

I give him a side-eye glance, unsure if he's talking to me or the chicken.

"Go ahead, give it another try."

This time, I know he's talking to me. I step closer to her, reach my arms out again, and carefully cup my hands around her.

"Make sure you keep your hands over her wings so she don't fly away."

Okay, okay, I think to myself as I slowly lift her off the ground. This isn't so bad.

"Hold her close to your chest, there you go."

Awarkdly, I do a squat-hunch walk out of the playhouse with this dang chicken in my arms. I will admit, she is very cute. And surprisingly soft.

"Here, I can take her," Teddy says and gently grabs her from my arms.

He smiles down at her and gives her little head a kiss. A boy and his chicken, so sweet. Like actually, it's sweet. I'm not being sarcastic. It truly is adorable.

"Damn, Kiers, I'm impressed. Took me months to wrangle my first chicken. Course, I never was known for being patient. You though, you're a natural. A real chicken whisperer, if I ever saw one."

"Well, what can I say."

Really, what can I say? Seriously, what does one say to that sort of - compliment? I guess?

"You tell Nana I said you done good. I'm gonna walk this little lady home."

Before I head back to the market, I watch Teddy walk away with chicken under his arms, talking to her like he's taking her home from a night out on the town.

I can't help but shake my head and smile. The things you do in this town for a peaches n' cream crumble, I swear.