turkey tale 04

dispatch from kerfuffle:

Adam glanced out the kitchen window overlooking the backyard and noticed them for the first time on Tuesday. Seven large dark figures out by the birdfeeders, standing in the heavily falling snow.

"Odd," he thought, "Birds, out in a storm. They must have been forced out of the woods to find food."

He didn't really give it another thought until Friday when he noticed there were more of them, a lot more; maybe forty of them, and they were closer to the house. He could see them clearly now, wild turkeys, big ones, eating all the bird seed he had set out for the 'pretty birds.' They had even knocked over a couple of the bird feeders.

"Son of a Bitch, Meredith, come look at this"

he called to his wife of thirty years.

"Those son of a bitchin' birds are back!"

as though she would know they were there before without being told, simply because he had seen them out there the other day.

"And what birds would those be? I thought the whole idea of the bird feeders was to ATTRACT BIRDS"

"Not THESE kind of birds, they are going to eat me out of house and home, and they are destroying the feeders, too."

"Wow, they are HUGE, especially that one over there. What the hell are they? Prehistoric raptors?"

"Funny, no, they are wild turkeys, but they ARE acting a bit strangely. They are a bit close to the house and I have never seen them destroy feeders like this. You're right about that big bastard, too; I think he's the leader."

"The leader? Like a pack, or an army? What exactly are you saying, Adam? You're scaring me a little!"

As though the big bird could tell he were being talked about, he raises his head and looks directly at Adam, and then at Meredith, causing her to gasp a bit. Adam's hand flies out to grasp her by the arm the moment the sound escapes her lips. They look at each other and know immediately that the other has seen what they have seen, without question.

"You can't seriously think that they can plan things, do you? That's not possible is it? Adam. Tell me that's not possible!"

"That's not possible, Meridith." Adam sighed, almost exasperated that he had said it out loud as much for himself as for her.

He closed the curtain and stepped away from the window, sighing again as he did so. What the hell did he think he just saw anyway? A bird with a mission? A turkey with an agenda? Was he really entertaining these ideas? Since he obviously could not in good conscience answer yes to that last question, he let the entire thing slide for a couple of days. Until Monday morning that is.

Every weekday morning he was always greeted at exactly 6am with a steaming cup of coffee and a long tawdry kiss that he always knew he could turn into a blow job if he had the hankerin', which he often did, even after 30 years. Why then on Monday morning at exactly 6:17am was he laying alone in bed with no coffee and an aching in his loins? This puzzled Adam for a few moments, then it worried him, and he called for Meredith, with no answer. Finally the silence panicked him enough that he leapt out of bed, threw on his robe and ran for the kitchen.

He looked out the window and there had to be a hundred of them, at least, and they were all hovering and bouncing above a deer carcass or something that they had taken down. He had never seen anything like it; They were tearing the flesh and fluttering about like killer butterflies. He kept calling to Meredith, without getting an answer. As he looked around the kitchen for an answer for her absence, he could not help but look at the turkeys, and the blood, there was an awful lot of blood. Adam continued to look around the kitchen and saw a note on the counter near the door.

"Oh good" he thought, "she must have gone to the store to get some coffee, or something."

He crossed the kitchen and picked up the note, still haunted by the vision of the turkeys in the backyard bouncing around on that deer carcass. As he read the note, his hand began to tremble and a sound of loss and horror escaped his throat. He ran to the window and took a closer look at the 'deer carcass' and realized he could see his beloved wife's slippers. The note dropped from his limp, horrified hand and landed face up on the floor. It read,

"Adam, You were right; Those damn birds are eating you out of house and home. Well at least out of bird seed. Gone to town to grab some seed and I will be back to feed the 'raptors.' See you soon. Love Meredith."


HemlockMan said...

It was a "dear" carcass.

Benny said...

Wow! Creepy goodness to start the day.
Reminded me of a quickie Robert Bloch!

dogboy443 said...

Dear...oh my.

This story is what we would expect over at Myrant.

BonzoGal said...

I'll never be able to eat a club sammich again.

eeTeeD said...

i can't believe this. such sad news...

Comic artist Dave Stevens, creator of The Rocketeer, has passed away after a battle with leukemia. An extensive obit can be found at The Comics Reporter. Early in his career, Stevens worked on Hanna-Barbera action-adventure cartooons like Jana of the Jungle and Super Friends. Background painter and fellow comic artist Bill Wray has written some nice personal memories of Dave Stevens on his blog, and writer Mark Evanier is also sharing memories on his blog.