Old Sport

Everyone called him Grampa even though he never had any children and was only 55; maybe it was the sweater vest he always wore or his prematurely white hair.
He went to work at a chicken factory right after high school, plucking feathers part time, and he just never quit.

At the factory everyone thought Grampa was mean. Mostly because of his fierce face when ripping the feathers off of chickens, but also because this one time Bobby, the young manager, found sand in his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and he figured Grampa had put it there so he decided to tell everyone about it. But the sand was just a raspberry seed (Bobby had figured this out later after plucking one from his teeth, but didn’t want to change his story) and Grampa’s fierce feather plucking face came from a fear of pain–like a child tugging firmly on a loose tooth or needle fearing diabetic giving themselves their first injection.

One night, Grampa came home and made himself dinner and sat down to watch the end of his favorite movie, The Great Gatsby. The glow of the television seemed to sedate him. After, some newscasters came on talking about a tornado and what it left in its wake, including hundreds of chickens wandering around without their feathers. And the woman newscaster added that ‘some scientists believe that the feathers were scared off of the chickens…must have been quite a fright! Ha, ha, ha.’ With this, Grampa leaned in and stared at the image of the swirling tornado.

The next day at work Grampa hid a small chicken under his overcoat and was headed to the parking lot when Bobby ran over to apologize.
“You know, for what I said.” Bobby shrugged. The chicken suddenly jabbed its beak into Grampa’s side. He clenched his jaw and winced  causing him to look and sound quite evil when replying in a deep throaty voice:
“What did you say?”
“Uh, about my sandwich?”
“Right.” Grampa had no idea what he was talking about but abruptly turned and walked away feeling the squirmy bird on the verge of dropping out of his over coat.

Later that night Grampa put on The Wizard of Oz and watched it with the chicken. He payed particular attention to the twitchy bird when the tornado was chasing after Dorothy. He knew that it was unlikely that anything should happen so he let himself get lost in the story, laughed a few times, and then dozed off just before the credits.

The next day at work Grampa slipped a note into Bobby’s In Box. It said.
I have made a discovery that will revolutionize our industry. Would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience.

That night when Grampa got home, he replaced the newspaper that his chicken had soiled, gave her a small bowl of mixed seeds that he picked out at the bulk food section of the health food market and put on another DVD; he chose Speed with Bullock and Reeves. Grampa stayed up all night writing and drawing up a presentation with the header:
The Film That Scares the Feathers Off of Chickens

The next day he showed his drawings to Bobby who was a little distracted until Grampa showed him the image of an entire theater of chickens watching a movie together, and in his next drawing they were all without their feathers. Bobby’s eyes went wide. Grampa reassured him that there was science behind it and handed over an article from the news. Bobby suggested they book a meeting with the ‘guys upstairs’. A figurative expression that made Bobby and Grampa feel united.

But Grampa hadn’t figured out what would scare the feathers off of chickens and Bobby got a meeting for the very next day. So that night he went home with a stack of videos from the library. When he walked in the door, his chicken did a little clucking circle dance which made Grampa laugh. And then for the first time he spoke to the chicken.
“We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
The first few films, scary horror films, were fun to watch and Grampa held the rumpled chicken in his lap. But the night was going quickly and it occurred to Grampa that possibly nothing would happen; that he’d assumed too much too fast and that he would look like a fool the next day.

So Grampa tried sneaking up on the Chicken and scaring her. Roaring like a Tiger. Shrieking like a Monkey. Hissing like a Cat. Barking like a Dog. Nothing worked. At around 3am he took out some eggs from the fridge and began to drop them in front of the chicken. Having them fall through the air, almost breaking, but he would catch them so as not to make a mess. The chicken just twitched her head left and right unsure of the new game. So Grampa dropped a egg so that it did break. He threw several eggs on the floor in rapid succession. The chicken just backed into the couch and put her head down and closed her eyes. Grampa closed up the carton of eggs slowly and put it back in the fridge.

He cleaned up the mess and decided to treat the chicken to his favorite movie of all time, The Great Gatsby. After a bit, the chicken settled in. Grampa made some pop corn and put a small container in front of the chicken who pecked at it, tentatively. Grampa looked over at her in the darkness and mumbled,
“Sorry, Old Sport.” The chicken blinked. Grampa gave her the rest of his popcorn.

At exactly twenty six minutes and eight seconds into the film the chicken began squawking. Really squawking. It jumped up and flapped all over the room. Grampa tried to get a hold of her but she just flapped and flapped, like a helicopter spinning out of control. Until suddenly she fell into a pile on the floor. Still. Completely still. Grampa thought that she had died. He walked over to her and she suddenly sprang up out of a pile of feathers, completely featherless. Grampa sprang back frightened. She then tipped over and began to shake and make a noise that sounded like the faint whistling steam from a kettle. Grampa took off his sweater vest and wrapped the chicken and held it in his arms, rubbing it and warming it.

The next day Bobby stood in the office of ‘the guys upstairs’ for quite some time waiting for Grampa. After a while they grew impatient so Bobby told them what the meeting was about, which was a mistake because showing movies to chickens sounds crazy. Bobby was sent back to work and they told him to fire Grampa.

But Grampa was never coming back. With a small coop of fifteen chickens laying eggs he had just enough to get by. He would spend his evenings happily watching horror movies with his featherless friend and decided to keep his favorite movie hidden from view forever.