The Chicken Lover

Bumpy Start

I first met her on the road from Dublin. She sat with her back against a fence.

"Are you alright?"

Tears streaked down her cheeks as she took a deep breath.

"Oh... I-I... I'm alriiight!" She sobbed, placing her face in her hands.

"Excuse me, if you don't mind me asking, why are you crying?"

She wiped her eyes with her flowing silk sleeve. "I-I've lost my..." she sniffled.

"You've lost your what?"

"My rooster!" She bawled.

A dead rooster? That was the problem? But I had no right to question; maybe it was her only pet. "I'm so very sorry. When did you lose him?"

She looked at me for the first time. Her eyes widened when she saw my tattered dress. She brushed herself off and stood up. "I lost him last night." Her blouse was shinier than all the jewels in Ireland. The sun glinting off of the gems nearly blinded me.

"Would you like me to help you perform the burial?"

Her mouth flew open. "He isn't dead, you ignorant-" Then she began to cry again.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't-"

"Of course you didn't." She interrupted, "No one understands me!" She sat down and begrudgingly watched me.

"Maybe he's only lost on your farm somewhere. I can help you look for him."

"Oh no, I don't live on a farm with the peasants!" She said. "I am a lady. Unlike you..."

A lady who wore the best clothes, lived in the best home, and owned a rooster. Needless to say, I was confused.

"Well, shall we look for him along the road? Maybe he found the path and followed it. Chickens can be-"

"He is a rooster!" She yelled.

"-Yes... Roosters can be quite smart, you know."

"Oh... oh alright. I'll go with you. If there is any chance of finding my poor Bry-Bry, by all means I'll try!"

"Bry-Bry?"

"That's his name. Don't wear it out."

"Well, um, let's be off then!" I turned.

She looked at me, "What is your name?"

"It's Alana. And yours?"

"I am Edana. Daughter of lord Eamon and lady Cordelia."

"That's a lovely name! Quite befitting for a lady such as yourself." I smiled.

She smirked. I hadn't meant it to sound sarcastic, but I could hardly control it anymore.

We started down the road, calling out for the rooster every few feet. And I didn't realize that I would soon come to regret my desicion to help.