Cheating for the Chicken Man (11 page)

J.T. signed off on some paperwork, and the big rig rolled down the driveway with its cargo of caged chickens. Wind
ruffled the chickens' white feathers as Kate thought sadly about how they were leaving the only life they had ever known: seven weeks in a darkened chicken house.

“Let's lock up and go to bed,” J.T. said, glancing at his watch. “We can probably get a whole hour of sleep before school.”

An hour of sleep sounded good. Kate locked up the second chicken house and did a quick check, peering inside the long, empty building. The floor was littered with white feathers—and in a far corner, movement caught her eye.

“J.T.!” she called out the door. “They missed some chickens in here!”

When her brother returned, they slowly approached the three frightened birds. “What are we going to do?” Kate asked.

“Call the company, I guess. Tell them they missed a few.”

“But they'll just come back and kill them,” Kate said.

“No,” J.T. told her. “They'll ask
me
to kill them.”

“Well, don't!” Kate exclaimed. “Let them live!”

“Are you crazy? It's against the company's rules to keep any of these birds! You know what the contract says. We can't have another bird on our property! Remember when you found that owl with the broken wing?”

Kate frowned. “I wouldn't have kept him. He needed that rehab place.”

J.T. looked skeptical. “You were dying to keep that owl.”

“Come on,” Kate begged. “I'll be responsible for feeding them, I promise.” Her mind scrambled. “We could hide them at Mr. Beck's place next door! No one lives there anymore—and he's got chicken coops in the back.”

J.T. tilted his head sideways. “What? Trespass?”

“Who's going to care?” Kate argued.

“Probably no one,” J.T. said. He paused. “They won't live long anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“Look how fat they are. They're bred to be broilers. They grow way too fast. Why do you think so many of them flip and die?”

Kate's eyes widened. “That's why? Because they grow too fast?”

“Sure it is. Their internal organs grow so fast some of them have heart attacks and keel over. You would, too, if you couldn't move and all you did was eat all day.”

Honestly, Kate hadn't known why so many birds flipped.

“And what about food?” J.T. asked. “The company keeps tabs on the feed.”

“So we'll buy some feed!”

J.T. still looked doubtful, but there was a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. “Kate,” he said, “you have got to make peace with the food chain.”

Quickly, they caught the three birds and placed them in a metal cage that had been left behind. They filled a can with water, scooped feed out of the trough and headed off through the soybean fields to the abandoned Beck property next door. After squeezing through a barbed-wire fence and passing the cage over it, they stepped through the tall grass and weeds behind the farmhouse.

“I'll bet there're a few million ticks in here!” Kate said.

“Yeah, we'll probably be covered with 'em!”

Kate was glad they both wore jeans and sneakers, but she knew the ticks—and chiggers, too—would have a feast on their
bare ankles.

The barn at Beck's farm had been torn down years ago. All that was left was a house swallowed by ivy and kudzu and several run-down outbuildings where the farmer used to keep pigs and chickens. They found the old chicken coops, one of which was in fairly good shape, and took the chickens inside. Only one perch was up, but Kate doubted the birds would even know how to fly up and sit on the rail.

“I'll come over after school tomorrow and nail a couple of loose boards in to make it more secure,” J.T. said. “And I can probably fix them up a little outdoor run with leftover chicken wire.”

“Won't that be something? Except for the walk over here, these chickens have never been outside! They've never seen daylight!” Excited, Kate kneeled on the dirt floor and opened the wire cage. Cautiously, the three chickens emerged.

J.T. stood back and crossed his arms. “I can't believe we're doing this.”

“Don't worry,” Kate told him. “It'll be our secret.” She pressed her lips together. She was good at keeping secrets.

*

Back at home, changing up for school, Kate heard a text message land on her phone.

Jess:
OMG—there's a
Facebook page of a c
hicken with J.T.'s f
ace.

Holding her breath, Kate clicked on the link and saw for herself how J.T.'s eighth-grade picture had been pasted onto a chicken's body. The page was called “Chicken Man.” Already dozens of kids had “liked” it. She knew Curtis was behind it. Curtis and Hooper Delaney, who was a computer geek like her
brother.

Kate sank down on the edge of her bed. Poor J.T. He did not deserve this. She had to do something. The bully's words repeated in her head:
If yo
u write that assignm
ent for me, I'll lea
ve your wimpy brothe
r alone.

How could she do that, though? It was cheating!

But wasn't keeping those chickens alive cheating the chicken company?

Wasn't it cheating on her mother when she lied and got J.T. to her father's funeral?

Yes, but in both cases it was for a good reason and no harm was done.

So, Kate thought to herself, if you had a good reason, and kept it quiet, and no harm was done, it was okay?

She chewed on her bottom lip. No. She wasn't at all sure her reasoning made it right.

But even if it
was
cheating, she thought, if you made a deal and kept it quiet in order to protect your brother, to give him a chance and save your family, was it so terribly wrong?

A GOOD BROTHER

C
ome on, Kate! Be aggressive!” the coach yelled.

But Kate froze with the hard, white ball nestled against her field hockey stick.

“Kate!” Coach Dietrich ran along the sideline toward her. “Sometimes a good defense means being aggressive! Go for it! You're wide open!”

Had the coach really said that? It was like she knew what Kate was thinking, only it wasn't about field hockey strategy.

Suddenly, a wing from the opposing team charged full steam toward Kate. At the last instant, Kate calmly flicked the ball over her opponent's stick, then took off and drove it to her left halfback.

“Good job!” Jess said after the game as the two girls walked across the field back to the locker room. “You, like, really faked that girl out!”

“Thanks,” Kate said. “Think Coach will let me play sweeper again?”

“Are you kidding? She'd be crazy not to let you!”

“I hope you're right.”

“So what happened with J.T. and the Facebook thing?” Jess asked as they continued walking.

There it was again. Everybody focused on J.T. and how he
was being bullied. Everyone
seeing
it and
t
alking
about it—but nobody
stopping
it!

“I don't know if he saw it,” Kate said. “He was sick again this morning, so my guess is, yeah, he did see it.”

“Gosh, Kate.”

“I know, but what can I do?”

“Actually,” Jess said, “I was thinking we could organize a protest at school. A whole bunch of kids could get together and make a different Facebook page to support him. I read about this girl who got bullied at her school, and some kids did that, and she was voted homecoming queen!”

Kate was shaking her head even before Jess finished. “There are too many mixed feelings about J.T. right now. It wouldn't work.”

Jess sighed as they continued walking. “Maybe pray about it, then. It's all I can think of, to keep praying, and maybe if J.T. ignores Curtis, he'll stop.”

Kate turned to her friend. “J.T. has not exactly been egging him on.”

A car horn blared from the nearby student parking lot, distracting them, and the two girls stopped.

“What? Is that
him
?” Jess asked. “Is that Curtis Jenkins waving at us?”

“Appears that way,” Kate said as her stomach began to knot up.

“What's he doing here after school? Detention probably,” Jess said, answering her own question.

This was her chance, Kate thought, staring in his direction.

“What
is
his problem?” Jess continued. “Isn't it enough he bullies J.T.? Don't let him start with
you
, Kate!”

“Don't worry, I won't,” Kate said. “In fact, I'm going to go tell him that right now.”

“What?”

“I'm going to go talk to him. But let me do this alone, okay?”

“Kate!”

“I'll be right back. I'm just going to talk to him.”

“I'm not moving from here!” Jess called after Kate. “I'm
watching
! If he lifts one finger to hurt you, I'm going to have the whole team
and
the coach over there!”

Kate walked quickly, but Curtis had started his truck and was backing out of his parking space.

Breaking into a run, Kate headed for the school driveway to cut him off. She stood boldly in the middle of the road, holding up her left hand to stop him. When he did, she tightened the grip on her field hockey stick and approached the open window on the driver's side.

Curtis seemed amused. “I like your little pigtails, Kate.”

Kate glared at him.

“You ain't gonna hit me with that, are you?” he asked, eyeing the hockey stick.

Kate's hard expression didn't change. She actually wondered how many of his teeth she could break with a hard, fast whap.

His grin disappeared. “Uh, Kate, what—”

“I'll do it!” she snapped, cutting him off.

Curtis pulled back. “What? Hit me?”

Kate's heart was already pounding from two hours of exercise and a run across the field, but now it beat triple time. “I'll write that essay for you if you leave J.T. alone. And if you take
down that Facebook page
immediately
!”

“Aha,” Curtis said. He relaxed and the smirk reappeared. “All right, then. Good decision. It's a deal! And I'll get that computer problem fixed ASAP.”

“So give me your cell phone number.”

“You want my number? Cool!” Curtis replied.

“Not because I
want
it, but I'll need some information if I'm going to write that assignment for you.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Curtis rooted around in his truck for something to write on and ended up giving Kate his cell phone number on the back of a gas receipt.

Kate snatched it from his hand and ran back across the field.

“Thanks!” Curtis called after her. “You won't be sorry!”

But Kate didn't know if she'd be sorry or not. This was new territory for her—
cheating
. It was a gamble that came with a high price, because her good grades, her reputation, all of it was at stake if anyone found out.

But what could she do? No one else was stepping in to help her brother. Kate bit her lip so hard she actually drew blood.

“What did you tell him?” Jess asked after jogging to meet Kate.

“I told him to leave J.T. alone,” Kate said, balling up her hand to hide the slip of paper.

Jess snorted. “What? You think he's going to listen to you?”

Kate didn't want to say much more. “I think he'll be nicer,” she told Jess. “I told him I just wanted to be friends, that God was watching—and I think we connected.”

Jess's eyes grew big.

Kate couldn't help herself. “Yeah, I was thinking of Proverbs. How about ‘a gentle answer turns away wrath: but a harsh word stirs up anger.'”

Now she was not only a liar
and
a cheater, but a blasphemer, too, Kate thought. She pressed her lips together and could taste the blood from her lip.

Jess beamed. “Kate, that is awesome! I mean, that is so incredibly awesome.”

“Well,” Kate said, licking her bottom lip as they resumed walking, “we'll see about that.”

*

After dinner, after a trip to check on her refugee chickens and homework, Kate went to fetch Hoppy from his cage outside and took him up to her room. She closed the door and let the rabbit explore while she sat cross-legged on her bed and sent the first text message to Curtis.

Kate:
A short bio. So tell
me about urself.

Curtis answered right away.

Curtis:
What d
o u want to know?

Ka
te:
What do u like t
o do? Other than bul
ly people?

Curtis:
W
rong attitude . . .

Kate
:
What? U think I en
joy this?

No response. Had she insulted him? She needed to be careful.

Kate:
How
old are u?

Curtis:
16

Kate:
Tell me abo
ut ur family.

Curtis
:
Like what?

Kate held her hands palm up and asked her stuffed panda,
“Do you believe this?”

Kate:
Who do u live with?

Curtis:
My mom and h
er boyfriend.

His mother's boyfriend. She wondered what happened to his father.

Kate:
What do u do outside of sc
hool?

(She mouthed, silently: “Besides be mean to people?”)

Curtis:
Not much. Weekends I work at
this bbq place.

Okay, what else? Kate wondered. She thought of the camo clothes he wore.

Kate:
U hun
t?

Curtis:
No.

Kate rolled her eyes. Was that all he was going to say? But then another text came.

C
urtis:
Fish. Me and
my brother, justin,
we fished every rive
r and creek in the b
ay.

Kate:
No way. My
uncle is a waterman
. Over a hundred tho
usand creeks and riv
ers flow into the ba
y. No way u fished e
very one.

Curtis:
Ma
ybe not all.

Another long pause. While she waited, Hoppy tried to jump up on Kate's bed, but couldn't quite do it without the missing hind leg. Kate reached down and scooped him up. When he settled beside her, she stroked the cottontail between his ears and watched as he closed his eyes. Kate glanced back at her silent phone. She wasn't going to get any information from Curtis if she kept insulting him. She sent another text.

Kate:
What
do u fish for?

Cur
tis:
Sun, perch, tro
ut but mostly rock.
First time I fished
with my brother i ca
ught a 32 inch rock
weighed 16 lbs.

Kate
:
How old were u then?

Curtis:
6 or 7. Got
a picture of me hol
ding that fish on my
bureau.

Kate:
To ca
tch rock, what do u
use for bait?

Curtis
:
I like live-lining
with small spot and
circle hooks.

Kate had no idea what that was, but fishing, yes, that would be the topic of the short bio she'd write for Curtis.

Kate:
How
old is Justin?

No response. Kate waited a minute or so before texting again.

Kat
e:
How old is ur bro
ther?

Curtis:
Justin
is 8 years older th
an me.

Kate:
Are u c
lose?

Curtis:
Very.

Kate:
What makes him su
ch a good brother?

C
urtis:
My brother wa
s tough and no one e
ver messed with him.
Smart too and we ha
d a lot of fun.

Kate
:
Like what?

Curtis:
Fishing and camping
mostly. My brother
taught me everything
I know about engine
s.

Kate was trying to think of the next question when another text came:

Curtis:
My brother looked o
ut for me when nobod
y else did.

Kate:
Gu
ess u'd do just abou
t anything for ur br
other, right?

Curtis
:
U name it.

Kate:
I
nteresting because I
have an older broth
er I love a whole lo
t, too. And look wha
t I'm doing for him.