Turkey by Randy Cockrell

Zalon and his wife, Willow, slaughtered the last turkey from their flock. As he cleaned the axe, Willow held the bird to the feather plucker. The rotating drum with flexible fingers pulled the feathers off quickly. He remembered the first time they used it. Willow had held the chicken too close and the machine pulled not only feathers, but skin and nearly pulled her hands into it.

Their son, Bai, was picking up feathers and stuffing them into a bag. Zalon planned on keeping some of them for his own projects but the rest would be sold. Several artists used the heritage breed turkey feathers for their art projects.

Willow dropped the plucked bird into a bucket of water to clean it. “Last one,” she said as she rinsed her hands. “I’ll keep this one for the feast.”

“How ya doin’, son?”

“Good, Daddy.” The boy held out his bag.

Zalon smiled. Bai had feathers in his hair and stuck to his clothing.

A big grin spread across his  five-year-old face. It was the first time he’d been allowed to help. “I’ve got lots of feathers.”

“Yes you do. Mommy and I are going to wrap and freeze these birds for this winter. You finish picking up the feathers.”

“OK, Daddy.”

Zalon watched Bai squat down to grab more feathers next to the plucking machine.

Willow pulled the turkey out of the bucket and patted it dry. “This one will feed a lot of people. I’m so looking forward to tomorrow’s Thanksgiving feast. I haven’t seen my parents or your’s in a month.”

Zalon began wrapping the birds in plastic. “Me, too. It’ll be nice to just relax at a party for the afternoon.”

They finished wrapping the birds and began the process of carrying them into the house where the industrial-sized freezer was. It took several trips as they could only carry a couple of birds each at a time.

They were putting the last of the birds in the freezer when they heard a scream. Zalon was first out of the door and into the yard. There he saw Bai backed up against the plucking machine, a Bashnall, a green and gold lizard-looking creature found on Titan 3, was nosing around the bucket where Willow had been rinsing the turkeys.

Zalon whistled for King, his domestic wolf. “Get a gun, Willow.” He dashed toward the Bashnall. He wondered at a Bashnall so close by. The wolves had begun hunting the Bashnall four years ago. He hadn’t seen one this close to town in a long time. The Bashnall knocked over the bucket, water flowed across the ground. Not finding anything to eat there, the Bashnall turned to Bai, still holding the bag of feathers.

“Drop the bag,” Zalon called to his son.

The boy stood, white-faced and big eyed, staring at the approaching creature, the size of the family wolf. King raced around the corner of the barn and streaked for the Bashnall. Zalon reached the boy, pulled the sack from his hand and threw it at the lizard as he spun around to the rear of the machine, Bai in his arms.

King gave a low growl and launched at the lizard. The Bashnall screamed making Zalon’s blood run cold. The animals were in a tangle, dust and mud flew in the air as each one scrambled to kill the other. Zalon used their distraction to back away then circle around to the house. He met Willow halfway across the yard. He handed her the baby and took the gun. “Get inside,” he told her then moved toward the animals.

It was hard to get a shot. King was rolling over and over with the Bashnall, snarling as he tried to reach the creature’s throat. Zalon followed the pair as they rolled. He wanted to get a shot off before the lizard hurt the wolf. He had his chance when the two broke apart. King crouched for another attack as the Bashnall whirled around to face its attacker. Zalon fired his blaster, the beam passing closer to his wolf than he liked. Don’t move, boy, he thought. The beam hit the predator in the head. It stood for a second as King leapt. The wolf grabbed the creature by the throat and shook the animal. Ichor and gobs of lizard flew in every direction.

“Easy, boy.” Zalon approached the wolf. “You got him, boy. Let him go now.” The wolf gave the creature another shake then dropped it at Zalon’s feet. Zalon stroked the wolf’s head. “Good job, King. Good job.”

The wolf huffed then nosed the Bashnall. He pointed his nose at the sky and gave out a long howl. Zalon chuckled. “The same way I feel,” he told the wolf.

Willow came out, Bai in her arms. “That was close,” she said as she stared at the creature in the dirt.

“It was. I wonder why this one is so close to town?”

“I don’t know. But it’s dead now.” She kissed Bai on the forehead.

Zalon hugged them both. “Thankfully, King was here to help.”

Willow stroked the wolf’s head. “I think a bone will be in order for him tonight.”

The End

867 Words

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