Chicken Run: Ginger Wants Babies
By Michael Carruthers ©
CHAPTER 8: The Confrontation
Things had never been more busy at Chikin Park. The news of Mac's turn had travelled fast and many were panicking. Babs and Bunty were discussing leaving the park in case Mac had made an alliance, many chickens had heard Mac had died so were bursting out in tears, comforting each other on the street. The entire community knew that it had been Mac who stole the chicks, and either sadness or confusion was awry, though everyone was angry. As Ginger walked the dusty road of Chikin Park with Rocky's arm around her shoulder, she heard a group of her friends, including Maria and Paula, talking about how Mac would never be welcome in Chikin Park again. This saddened Ginger, she did not know how to feel about her friend's sudden change in personality. What had caused it? What was Mac planning? What did 'easy death' mean? Ginger did not know.
"What's on your mind?" Rocky asked. His words were whispers so sweet even over the huge uproar of the community. Ginger looked up at him, as if he were stupid. "Right, right…Mac. She's got herself in a rough spot, that one…" Rocky said, sounding slightly sad.
"She's gone bonkers, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. She's working for someone, Rocky, I know it," Ginger said.
"She's goin' through a phase, doll," Rocky said, trying to sound relaxed. "She'll be back to normal in no time."
"This is much more serious than going through a phase," Ginger confirmed. "Many might think she's…"
Ginger looked again, and saw Maria and Paula constructing a poster that said "ALL MACS BANNED".
"…up to something…" Ginger finished. She then knew what she had to do, like a lightning bolt it hit her.
"Rocky, dear, if you could go and organise Mac's children, they're over there - see?" Ginger pointed out, sounding frantic.
"Sure, I'll take them back to our crib. Where are you going?" Rocky asked, a little worried.
"I have to find Mac," Ginger said, and began to walk away. Rocky grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"You have to what what with what?!" Rocky asked insanely. "Are you crazy?"
"Rocky! I have to talk to her. I have to get through to her before whatever she's planning turns this town ape-crazy," Ginger said, shrugging Rocky away. Rocky hesitated.
"I don't like this idea," he began. Ginger was about to retaliate, but Rocky continued before she could speak. "But if you think you need to do what is best for your friend…I think you should."
Ginger smiled, slightly moved.
"I won't be long," Ginger said, and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too."
And Ginger was gone.
**
Over the hill she walked, until she came to the tree. Their tree. She looked at it, saddened. It was only three or four days ago that Rocky had helped her up that tree, and they had discussed their feelings about having children. It all seemed so meaningless now, with what was going on. She walked on, entering the cornfields.
Mac too was walking in the cornfields, gathering corn and goods for Alastor's meal and her own. Slowly, Mac took off her glasses. Her vision was still blurry. For three days she had been trying to take off her glasses and see without them, but she could not.
"Dam' things!" she cursed.
Ginger whipped around.
"Mac," she said quietly to herself in a voice of realisation. As Mac rambled on, Ginger followed the perturbed voice and the figure of Mac approached her. She was bending over picking what looked like worms out of the ground and putting them in a basket.
"Little buggers!" Mac said, as the worms wriggled around in her hands.
"Mac…" Ginger's voice came softly. Mac swirled around and faced Ginger.
"Oh, it's just you. For a mom'nt there I was worried," Mac said, and went back to her worm picking.
"Mac, you need to stop what you're doing," Ginger said in a concerned voice.
"Sorry, can' do that," Mac replied. "Need the worms for the stew. They're not quite to my taste but Alastor likes them."
"Alastor?" Ginger said, quizzical.
"Yes, Alastor. Now…please leave," Mac said. She barely seemed to notice it was Ginger.
"Mac…please…please come back to Chikin Park, we can sort this out!" Ginger said pleadingly.
"How abou' no, OK Ginger?" Mac replied harshly, dropping the basket, facing Ginger and folding her arms. Ginger was seriously taken aback.
"Just tell me why, please, and I'll do what I can…" Ginger was interrupted by some very harsh words.
"You'll do wha' you bloody well can a'right. Nothin'. Cos that's wha' you're good for - nothin', except maybe being a really bad so-call'd friend. Remember the day of the destrruction of Tweedy's farm? I went back inside to get my key, and when I came bac' outside, all my friends were runnin' off larfin. The perfec' opportunity to ditch me, and I though' I was your frien'."
Mac's slow revelation of her sudden outburst of anger was tragic to Ginger, and she began to cry, several tears spilling out of her eyes that shone like small beacons in the moonlight.
"Mac…" she whispered helplessly.
"No, Ginger. Don' call me tha'. Don't pretend we're still friends, cos we're not. Now I advise you leave…but before you do…I muss' say, I loved you and Rocky's littl' get together on the tree a few nights back. 'Oh, Rocky! But babies! Whatever will we do bout our friends!'" Mac mocked Ginger with a strangely high-pitched voice. "But you got over it in abou' a second, didn'tcha? Cos you juss' don't care bout your friends, Ginger."
More tears spilled helplessly from Ginger's eyes, she was broken. Mac just smiled, like a little girl who had just received her doll.
"Now you can leave."
**
Mac arrived at the campsite, many worms had escaped during her confrontation with Ginger.
"Where's my tea?" Alastor shouted. His voice was a grizzly British one, like an English Michael Clarke Duncan.
"Forget tea. I'm sick of bakin'. I'm sick of talkin'." Mac said straight-forwardly, pacing as she walked.
"Tomorrow. Tomorrow we attack Chikin Park."
"We aren't ready-" Alastor began, but was interrupted by Mac.
"Then GET READY. Because, tomorrow, we'll mak' them scream."
Storyline to be continued in a megasized 4-part chapter…watch this space…
