In Which a cold and stormy night is spent

Chicken Little settles herself in, fluffing her feathers just a bit. It is a good thing to be warm and in when one is a chicken. That is just what she’s thinking to herself when she hears the familiar calling. Oh brother, she thinks to herself, getting up slowly, her legs creaking a bit as she does. Not as young as I used to be.

“What is it now?” she sqwalks. Some days it’s a real bother being the Queen Bee. Somedays she’s had just about enough.

“M..m..my knees are aching,” comes the complaint as soon as Chicken Little makes her appearance.

“Of coarse they are pea-brain,” she scolds, looking up at the sky that’s getting darker by the second. ‘Th..th..there’s a storm coming in.”

All the chickens look up. Sure enough, grey clouds are coming their way.

“B..b..better get in quick,” Chicken Little warns. “It’s gonna be a rough night.”

Each turn to obey. Chicken Little heads back to her own Coop, where her nice warm nest is waiting for her.

She stops short. The door to her Coop is closed.

Chicken Little whips around, just in time to see the Farmer’s back. He’s closing the Coops early. Seems he’s heard about the storm as well. Chicken Little races to the other Coup.

The Farmer bends in. “Now, stay in here, where it’s warm,” he says to the Chickens, neatly perched inside their cozy Coup. He shuts the door and rushes to the house. The wind is really beginning to whip.

Chicken Little looks from one Coup to the other—both are nice and warm, on the inside.

A fat drop of rain splatters on her head, followed by another.

And another.

Chicken Little’s eyes go toward the house. Maybe, just maybe she can make it up there and peck on the door and someone will open her Coup. She has eggs that need sitting, after all.

It’s all she can do.

The gate is her first obstacle. It towers above her, keeping in all but the bravest chicken. Chicken Little’s eyes close. She can be brave; she will have to be.

She takes a step back, giving herself a running start and jumps with all her might.

She lands softly in the grass. Her eyes open and she looks this way and that. Horror fills her bones. She is still in the chicken yard. How can that be? Sure, she isn’t as spry as she used to be, but…

And then she remembers. Her wings. They’ve been clipped.

She drops to her knees. Oh to Humanity!

The wind howls and tries to help, picking her up and tossing her this way and that, but it’s not enough to lift her over that fence.

Th..th..thank you anyway, she sighs and goes to find shelter. The wind calms for a bit, while she settles herself under the Coup’s stoop.

Once it sees she’s grounded, it lets loose. Whipping this way and that. Chicken Little closes her eyes and tucks her head into her feathers. It is going to be a very long night.

The sun rises in the morning, bringing with it the birds chirping over the harvest of worms laying out for them, brought out by the night’s doings.

Chicken Little’s eyes open. Somehow, she’s made it through the night. There were times she wasn’t so sure that would be the case.

Right at her feet lays a worm, big and juicy. She snatches it up before seeing another. And another.

The Other chickens squawk from inside the Coup. One of their number is perched on the highest rafter and can just make out the scene from the window peak and has reported what you and I can plainly see. That Chicken Little is Out There and is EATING ALL THEIR WORMS.

Pecks sound on the door, demanding it be opened. They want their share of the worms, too.

“Chicken Little!” Hannah exclaims. She drops the feed scoop and runs to her bird, picking her up and holding her tight. “What are you doing out here? Did you spend the night in the storm?”

Chicken Little struggles and Hannah sets her back down, seeing all the worms this way and that, just as you and I (although by this time there are many less to be had. That chicken has done a good job of cleaning out the yard).

“Oh, Chicken Little,” Hannah chides, stroking her chicken’s back as she goes here and there, gobbling them all up. The pecking on the door intensifies.

Hannah goes to the Coup, although she doesn’t open it. Not yet. Chicken Little has earned being the early bird. She can have as many worms as she likes.