"Yeah, right h-"
There was a gust of air in Sam's face, and he moved his hands to firmly hold the wings in place. "Shhh, it's okay, Corn Pop. Right here." he finished, gesturing with his thumb to a spot on the chicken's back.
Cass leaned over the table and gently spread apart the feathers at the spot, revealing a stinger embedded in her skin. "It's swollen. Have you already tried picking it out?"
"Yes, I-"
"Don't do that." the man's expression was so unwavering that Sam couldn't tell if he was being scolded or not. "Wait here." Cass spoke, rising from his chair and walking out.
Sam took the moment to smooth down the hen's ruffled feathers, staring absently at the kitchen walls. He'd never visited his neighbor before, but the house was homey, perhaps a little dusty and low-lit, but in a way that kept the lemon-yellow kitchen walls from blinding him. It was welcoming, Sam thought, even if the hum of stinging insects just outside the wide open, curtain-less windows was a bit of a turn-off.
When Cass returned, there was a bee perched on his forehead. He didn't seem to notice. "Trying to squeeze or pick the stinger out only spreads the poison." he explained, twirling a credit card in his hand. He leaned over the table, and pressed the card at an angle against the chicken's back. As he slid the card down the chicken's back, the bee hovered around his hand then landed on his index finger. The hen squawked and bobbed her head in nervousness. Sam held his breath.
Then Cass lifted his hand with a tiny, black stinger and a couple of stray feathers resting on his open palm. "There." He set them on the table then raised his hands again, softly taking one of Sam's hands with both of them and looking him in the eye, "I sincerely apologize for the struggle and pain that we have caused you."
"It's-" Sam hiccuped, realizing that he was still holding his breath. There was another gust of air in their faces as Corn Pop escaped from Sam's lap.
