Werehuman

Dead Chickens

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"Conor!"

I let out a short growl and nestled further into the bed. Ralph's voice sounded angry, and I hadn't done anything.

"Conor! Get up!"

I growled again and yawned, sitting up in bed. The quilt was streaked with blood and feathers. I felt some stuck to my chin and wiped them with the back of one hand. The man in the doorway was holding something white and bloody in a yellow glove.

"What is this?" he demanded, holding it out to me.

"A dead chicken?" I guessed.

"You promised that you'd stop killing the chickens," Ralph told me. "And I have two dead chickens and three more missing this morning."

"I didn't kill any chickens last night," I answered, yawning. "Guineas, sure. Chickens, no. Do you see any chicken feathers in here?"

Ralph paused, as if trying to decide if I was telling the truth. I was; I hadn't the knack for lying. It was too much to keep straight, and I had no need to lie to Ralph.

Since I was already awake, I stretched and then slid out of bed, surveying the damage. I had managed to keep the blood off the walls this time. I would just need to sweep up the feathers and wash the bedding.

"Conor, clothes!" Ralph reminded me.

I groaned, but accepted the pair of shorts that he threw at me. Clothes were my least favorite things about being human. They rustled and never fit well and there wasn't a time that it was acceptable to not wear clothes.

"Mel is making breakfast," he said. "Start the laundry before you come up, please."

"I will," I replied, hunting about the room for a shirt.

Ralph left with the dead chicken. I glanced toward the bathroom, wondering if I should shower before starting laundry. Ralph hadn't said anything, but I knew from experience that I usually wasn't presentable to Mel's standards after a hunt.

Sure enough, the mirror showed that I had blood on my face and down my neck. My hair was a knotted mess. Mel would not approve. After a quick shower and putting clothes back on, I bundled up everything with blood on it and moved it to the laundry room, conveniently next door. This happened frequently enough that I was decently proficient with the washer and dryer, unlike most of the technology upstairs. Then again, all this took was soap and a knob I turned and pressed. The microwave was magic as far as I was concerned.

"Breakfast!" I heard over the washer's noise.

I headed up the stairs and into the kitchen. Ralph, Mel and Susie Lynn were seated, waiting for me to join them. I slid into a chair and Ralph said grace for the food before passing the plates of biscuits, sausage, eggs and gravy around the table.

"Ralph told me about the chickens," Mel mentioned. "Did you see anything out there?"

"Not that I recall," I answered. "But I was down by the creek for most of the night. I'll have a look after breakfast?"

"There are paw prints everywhere," Ralph grumbled. "I would have thought other canines would stay away."

"I would have thought so too," I agreed, pondering what kind of foolish creature would enter what was clearly my territory.

"Mom, can I go over to Sarah's house later?" Susie Lynn asked.

"After your chores," Mel told her. "I need to run into town anyway. Ralph, do you need anything?"

"Chicken wire," he sighed. "And some beer."

"We'll see," she laughed. "Conor?"

"I think we're almost out of dryer sheets," I said. "I don't need anything, no."

"You need a haircut," she remarked. "Your hair's longer than Susie's now."

I ran my fingers through my damp hair. It was barely at my shoulders, but Susie Lynn had just cut her hair last week. I shook my head, having seen Mel cut Ralph's unruly brown hair. I was content to leave mine alone.

"Will you at least pull it back?" she inquired, handing me a hair tie.

I glanced at the stretchy loop, unsure how to use it.

"Take all of your hair in one hand, and put the scrunchie on your other hand's thumb and finger," Susie Lynn explained, pulling down her own hair tie to show me. "And then pinch the bunch of hair and pull it around, twist it and do that once more."

I attempted to follow, but somehow managed to drop the hair tie on the ground. Susie Lynn picked up the tie and did it for me. It felt weird, pulling my scalp back and my hair out of my peripheral vision. Mel nodded with approval and we continued breakfast.