October 30, 2014 – Today was the day we followed Eunice the librarian to her allergist appointment. It was our sincerest hope that if we met Eunice on neutral territory, she might lay down her ridiculous notion that chickens are something to fear and instead accept us for the kindhearted, intellectuals that we are. If we could accomplish this, then perhaps Eunice would allow me full access to the library so I can research voter registration requirements before the upcoming election on Tuesday. Ever since I received the postcard in the mail from one, Hope Ferterbest asking for my help in electing her to whatever it is she’s running for, I have made it my mission to become an eligible voter.
We waited for Eunice to leave the library at noon. Casually, she got into her car and took a right onto Main Street. We followed a safe distance behind in the pickup. When she arrived at the medical office, she went in through the front door. We went in through the side and came around the corner in time to see her call for the elevator with a quick push of the up arrow. Since there are only two floors in the building, we took the steps. We had to stop once to catch our breath, but we made it out of the stairwell just as the door to Dr. Jabmeinthearm’s suite was closing. Peaches ran ahead and stuck her foot in the door so we wouldn’t have to worry about the handle. We gave it a minute or two, eavesdropping in the hall until we heard the receptionist tell Eunice that she could go ahead through the inner door and wait in the examination room. We fell in place directly behind her, but had to hide behind a coat rack when a small child in the waiting room pointed and screamed excitedly in our direction.
“MAMA! BATS!” he announced loudly.
“Bats!” whispered Sawyer. “Really? What are human beings teaching their children these days?!”
There was no time to squabble over the inaccuracies of a 3-toothed toddler. We were on a mission. Because of the short delay, we had lost sight of Eunice.
“I think she went in there,” I guessed, nodding toward Exam Room #2.
“Wait!” said Peaches as I curled my wing around the door handle. “Put these on.”
She handed us each a surgical mask from a small basket on a mahogany side table. “The flu is going around. We don’t want to catch it.”
Good point. Then I noticed a supply of light yellow surgical gowns nearby. I grabbed three and tossed one to Sawyer and Peaches. “We might as well protect ourselves as best we can. No sense in bringing something back to the flock.”
After we suited up, we enjoyed a collective sigh and pushed open the door to the examination room. The doctor wore a wide band around his head from which a bright light was aimed into the mouth of a woman fully reclined in a blue chair.
“It’s looking very good in there,” he said cheerfully. “The swelling has gone down quite a bit.”
I’m a scientist first and foremost. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to look for myself. I wheeled a small stool next to the doctor, hopped on and took a peek over his shoulder.
“Fascinating,” I said in his ear. Sawyer and Peaches held the stool steady so I wouldn’t wobble or roll.
“Excuse me?” said the doctor whipping his head back to look at me.
He must have been hard of hearing. I leaned in closer and stuck my beak in his ear. “I said, dear sir, that what you are looking at is simply fascinating.”
At this point, he stood up and shoved the stool I was on out of his way. Thank goodness the wastebasket slowed me down or I might still be rolling as we speak. As he did this, he exploded with obscenities, causing the woman in the chair to believe he was speaking to her. She shot up and whacked him in the head with the instrument tray. It was in this moment that we realized the woman was not at all Eunice, but a dashing brown-haired woman in elastic pants.
“Our mistake,” I said reaching for the door. By now the doctor and patient were embroiled in a heated verbal exchange, allowing the three of us to slip back into the hallway. Before we could decide where next to go, we heard Eunice thanking the receptionist, telling her that she would see her again next week. Just like that she was gone. In and out. Lickety split. I don’t think she got her money’s worth at all. By the time we reached the pickup, Eunice’s car was gone.
“Now what?” asked Sawyer.
“I guess I won’t be able to register to vote,” I sadly declared.
“What if you show up at the polling station and see what you can do when you get there?” Peaches suggested. “Maybe they’ll serve snacks. That’s worth the drive over.”
“Or you could just do what I do and slip under the curtain,” said Sawyer.
I could, but I really wanted to make a social change for thinking chickens.
“Maybe I’ll make a sign and stand in protest on voting day.”
“Does that mean you won’t be home for spaghetti?” asked Peaches. “Because I’ll eat your portion if you aren’t going to be there. I’d do that for you. I love spaghetti.”
“Hey, at least we ended up with these nifty gowns and masks!” reasoned Sawyer.
She was right. We might not have accomplished what we set out to do, but we ended up with a decent prize anyway. Life is good like that.