I freeze before I reach the door. There’s noise coming from the backyard. My eyes narrow as I try to decipher that sound.
I walk back down the porch steps and go around to the back of the house, where Papa and Uncle Hal are hard at work. On the opposite side of the yard stands a chicken coop. Not just any old coop. Of course not. It’s a big production. There’s a little shedin the shape of a small barn on one side. They probably picked that up at Cox Trading Post. And then they’re wrapping plastic around chicken wire on what I’m guessing is a large run where the hens can hang out. Wait. I blink. Yes, I’m seeing correctly. At least a dozen squawking chickens are inside, maybe more.
“Hey, sweetheart!” Papa Hector shouts, nearly making me drop my bag.
Uncle Hal pops his head around the opposite side of the building, and both are beaming like they’re proud new parents.
“You guys have been busy,” I tell them.
“I’ll say.” Papa steps back and puts his hands on his hips, assessing their progress.
“It’s a chicken palace,” Uncle Hal says as he wipes the sweat from his brow.
“It’s zero degrees today. How are they supposed to survive out here?” I ask.
“It’s insulated, and we put heated pads under their straw so the eggs don’t freeze…and so our little ladies don’t freeze their tushes off too,” Uncle Hal says, grinning. “What you’re seeing here is a roomy, well-ventilated, state-of-the-art insulated space that will keep the hens happy. We can take the plastic off in the summer, and they’ll enjoy the weather.”
One of the hens lets out a dramatic squawk, like she agrees.
“You bought chickens,” I say slowly. “InJanuary, our coldest month. How did you do all of this in one day?”
“We rescued them from Eugene,” Papa says. “He’s decided to be a snowbird in Florida. I hope it’s okay that we said yes. We thought you’d be happy about it. Think of all the fresh eggs you can use at the cafe.”
“People will taste the difference!” Uncle Hal adds.
“We might even have enough for Camden to use,” Papa says.
He probably would be happy about that. But it’s one more thing to take care of! I put my hand on top of my head.
“Chickens,” I whisper, still unable to believe what I’m seeing. “How many are we talking?”
“Twenty,” Uncle Hal says proudly.
“Twenty,” I gasp. “Unbelievable.”
“We’ll take care of them, don’t you worry!” Papa says.
“Look at those girls,” Uncle Hal says. “They’re settling in already. It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow, so maybe they can wander out of the coop…get some exercise.”
A handful are sitting on boards that are staggered at different heights, and a bunch are walking around clucking. It sounds like they’re talking to each other.
“Don’t they have enough room in there?” I point to the area they’re in.
Papa nods, and Uncle Hector shakes his head at the same time.
“They do,” Papa tells his brother.
“Would you want to be cooped up in there if you had the chance to roam?” Uncle Hal puts his hand on his hip. “Yes, they’ll be okay in there, but I think they should be free sometimes too.”
“What if they try to cross the road?” I ask.
Their heads fall back as they laugh.
“To get to the other side?” Papa says once he’s caught his breath.
“Just beak-cause she could,” Uncle Hal adds, and they both crack up. “To bawk twaffic.” He does chicken arms, which makes them laugh harder.
I sigh, and when Papa notices I’m not laughing, he sobers up.
