(AN: Sorry for the lack of updates… But hopefully I'll feel like writing more often now, since I got a new laptop as a graduation present from my parents, and I transferred all of my stories onto it. The computer I used to write on—the 1997 Gateway up in the guest bedroom—worked fine, but it's rather nice to have a computer that doesn't take forever to load… ;) So here's chapter two!)
O.o.O
"Orson! Orson! Where are you?"
It was rather pointless for Booker to yell that, for Orson was where he usually was—floating on an inner tube in his wallor, reading a book. Hearing Booker, he put the book down. "I'm here, Booker. What's the matter!"
The chick, with a flying leap, landed straight on Orson's inner tube. "Is it really true that Roy's a chicken?"
Orson blinked. "…Well, of course it's true. You didn't know that?"
"Apparently, I'm an idiot," muttered Booker.
"You're not an idiot!" cried Orson. "You're just young. Everybody has to learn everything they know sometime."
It was Booker's turn to blink. "…What?"
"Oh, never mind," said Orson with a shrug.
"And so… he's really… my father?" Booker shuddered.
"Well, yes… what's wrong with that?"
Booker grimaced. "I guess, I always kinda hoped that whoever my father was, he'd make up for my mother."
Orson cocked his head in confusion. "And what's wrong with your mother?"
"Oh, where to begin!" Booker stood up dramatically on the inner tube, somehow able to keep his balance. "She's gotta be the weirdest chicken in the coop, and she doesn't hide it, either. She'll say the weirdest things in front of the other hens and chicks, and they'll all talk about her and say she's a freak… and she is! She gets so annoyed at me and Sheldon for leaving the coop so often… what's so bad about that? And she's always nagging at Sheldon to hatch. Well, if he doesn't want to hatch, then he shouldn't! She's inattentive, but when she actually decides to be a good parent, she's way too strict. And—"
"Okay, okay, I get the picture!" Orson clamped a hand over Booker's beak. "Alright then, so you don't care for your mother. And now you're saying that your father doesn't help matters?"
Booker snorted. "Yeah, sure, my father. He's tricked me with fake worms more times than I can count… and that's minor, compared to the other things he's done to me."
"I suppose you have a point," said Orson.
"Why don't you just kick him off the farm?" asked Booker.
"Now, Booker, you have to realize that, number one, a good rooster is hard to come by, and number two, Roy's actually done a very good job as our rooster."
"Sure… I find that hard to believe."
Orson sighed, picked up Booker, and set him on his lap. "You've got to understand the inner workings of a rooster's mind, Booker… well, someday you will, I guess, better than I do. It confuses me, to be honest. But they seem to have some sort of hierarchy… or something. You see, before Roy came to the farm, we had two roosters, who, somehow, managed to share their 'power' equally. But they were getting old, so the farmer decided that we needed a new rooster—so he brought in Roy. Now, that year, we had three roosters, which is a very volatile situation! However, Roy respected his 'rookie' position and let the other two roosters continue their charges. Roy only took two hens that first year—"
"What do you mean, took?" Booker asked.
"Well, with three of them, they all didn't just run after every hen, they had a system… and so that year, Roy was only the father of one of the hen's chicks, since you know, the hens switch off every year."
"Yeah, I know that," said Booker. "One year half lay chicks while the other half lay eggs for eating, and then the next year they switch."
Orson nodded. "Well, anyway, the three rooster situation didn't last long after that. The two old ones died, and Roy's been our only rooster ever since."
"How long has that been?" Booker asked.
"Hmm… I think he came about three years ago," said Orson.
"Oh…" Booker's face fell. Even though he had somehow known right when Roy said he was a chicken, he had been hoping that Orson would tell him that it was all just a lie… but it wasn't.
Both of his parents were not only freaks, but jerks!
Orson helped Booker out of the wallor and onto dry land. "I'm sorry… this distresses you so," said Orson, not knowing what else to say.
Booker sighed. "I can just take happiness in knowing that I'm nothing like either of my parents."
O.o.O
Roy would have begged to differ with Booker's comment.
"Lemme guess," he said to Sheldon, who, after thinking it over for awhile, decided that he'd like to find out more information about his heritage. Roy smiled at the 'egg with legs'. "Your mother is Joanna, right?"
"How did you know that?" Sheldon asked, surprised.
"It's so easy," said Roy, chuckling. "Booker's exactly like her."
"How so?"
"You can see it in everything he does! His gritty determination, his intelligence, his wit…"
"Hmm…" Sheldon considered this. "I guess you're right!" He had never thought of it before, but Roy was right—Booker was a lot like Mom. Just like Tonya was… "I can't believe that Booker and I didn't figure out for ourselves that you're our dad, with Tonya being the way she is."
"Who's Tonya?" asked Roy. "Your sister?"
"Yep, and she's exactly like you!"
"To pull a page from your book, how so?"
"She's constantly pulling pranks on all of us and cracking bad jokes. Just like you!"
Roy sniffed. "My jokes aren't bad."
The two chickens, who had been walking this entire time, were now in front of the chicken coop. "Well, Sheldon, I guess the line ends here," said Roy.
"I don't really want to go back into the coop…" said Sheldon hesitatingly. "All I'll hear is Mom yelling at me to hatch." Sheldon, while not harboring nearly as negative feelings for his mother that Booker did, still would rather avoid her constant harassing.
But it was too late for Sheldon to escape, for at that moment Joanna leaned out of the coop. "Sheldon! There you are! Get back in here like a good chick. Where's your brother?"
Roy answered. "He ran off into the sunset screaming. But he'll probably be back… eventually."
Joanna fluttered her way to Sheldon, scooping him up. "We'll, he'd better get back here soon. Something's happening around here. I don't know what, but all of the hens seem pretty excited."
"Those other hens would get excited over a lightbulb getting changed," sniffed Roy. He grinned at Joanna. "But you, my dear, need a lot more to get you shaken up."
Roy took Joanna's wing in his and brought it up to his beak, as if kissing it. Joanna giggled in the flirtatious way that was expected of her.
He knew he shouldn't play favorites, but Roy knew that Joanna was his favorite hen, by far. Well, it should have been obvious… because both of them were strange, as far as chickens go. They weren't just smarter than the average chicken, they were almost too smart than what a chicken ought to be. Roy could remember when he was just a chick, and that terrible feeling of isolation he had felt. He was just too different from any other chicken, and he always felt like an outsider from all of his siblings… and even his mother. He had never asked Joanna about it, but somehow he knew that she had gone through that too.
They were just two freaks who, by all accounts, shouldn't have mated and brought more freaks into the world. But at least their children had each other…
And besides all that, Joanna's independent state of mind and determination were very, very attractive to Roy.
One of the other hens ran out of the coup. "Joanna! Joanna! Have you heard?"
"Heard what?" asked Joanna. "I can tell that something's going on around here, but—"
"We're getting a new rooster!"
Roy's jaw dropped. "What?!" he cried in shock. "Why am I always the last to know about these sort of things?"
The hen laughed. "Don't worry, Roy, he won't be replacing you. The farmer just thinks that with all the work you have to do by yourself, it will be nice to have some help around here, don't you think?"
"Well… I guess… but remember the last time we got a new rooster?"
"Ooh, Plato!" The hen nearly swooned. "He was sooo romantic! But he was also a lousy guard. Which is why we'll have two! You've done such a good job, Roy, and I'm sure that this new rooster will too! He's not going to replace you, don't worry."
Roy made a face. "Yeah, well, you'd better be right," he mumbled, although he could feel impending doom taking root in the pit of his stomach. He knew first-hand how fickle the hens were.
Well, all of them except Joanna.
"Here he comes!" squealed another hen. All of the hens tumbled out of the coop.
Roy couldn't believe it. "Oh, am I so getting replaced," he mumbled.
"I can't see him that well," said Sheldon. "Is he really handsome?"
"Handsome doesn't even begin to cover this guy," moaned Roy. "He looks like the Brad Pitt of the chicken world."
He was tall. Muscular. His black feathers couldn't even begin to hide those muscles. His eyes were deep and enchanting. His tail, almost taller than he was and sprouting with feathers, brought to mind the volume of a peacock's tail. He was, in a word, a hunk.
All of the hens thought so, anyway.
Before anyone could say "trousers", all of the hens—except Joanna—were crowded around him, clutching his wings, his legs, his chest… most looked about ready to swoon.
"Hello, ladies," he said in a voice that sounded like the romantic male lead on a soap opera. "I'm Buck, and I'm your new rooster. And I'm happy to be here, too… with so many beautiful ladies."
Two hens actually DID faint.
Joanna was the only hen who hadn't run to his side, but she was fanning herself with one wing. "Holy smokes, he is attractive, isn't he?"
"Yes… what a pretty-boy, I must agree," fumed Roy.
O.o.O
(AN: And the plot thickens. ;) See you next chapter!)