Day of the Turkey

by Dave Krenitsky

 

Chet and Rocky looked down at the freezer full of turkeys.

Rocky reached down then stopped, "Should we get small one, say ten pounds, or a larger one, maybe twenty pounds?"

"Bigger is always better. Besides if it takes longer to cook that means more time with the girls."

"You boys planning to have that for tonight?"

Chet and Rocky looked up to see an older woman watching them with a slight smile. They nodded.

"The small one will take six hours to thaw in water."

"But the girls are coming over in five."

"Better get a fresh one or even precooked." She started pushing her cart away then turned back, "If you can find any."

Chet looked down, "How do you tell if it's fresh?"

"First you don't look in the freezer. There's a sign. Ninety nine cents a pound – Fresh Turkeys"

"Where?"

"Right above that empty refrigerator."

A quick check with a stock boy confirmed that the store was out of anything but the frozen birds. As they walked out Chet was checking his phone for other grocery stores.

 

"Hey, look," Rocky said.

Across the parking lot a man was closing the doors on a large panel truck. On the side it read – Matheson Farms Fresh Poultry.

"Run we can catch him." They arrived as the driver was climbing into the truck.

"Please. Do you have any turkeys left?"

"Not frozen," Chet added.

"Nothing to sell."

"We're desperate. Fifty bucks?" Rocky said.

The driver looked down. "Maybe. Done any hunting?"

"I used to duck hunt with an uncle. Is the bird alive?" Rocky held up a fifty dollar bill.

The driver chuckled, "No. Not alive and plucked but not dressed. You would have to gut it and cut off the head and legs."

"No problem," Chet said.

"I'm serious. The first thing to do when you get home if to cut off the head. These birds need to be cooked properly. I mean it. Don't start eating until the lowest temperature you find is 180 degrees. And five hours minimum at 325."

"No problem. Five hours, 325, 180 degrees minimum. How big is it?"

"Twenty pounds." The driver opened the back of the truck and climbed inside. He came out with two packages. "Fifty is a lot so here's a chicken too. Same as the turkey. Cut its head off, gut it then freeze it."

 

Chet dropped the turkey and chicken on the kitchen counter. "You prep the bird while start the oven. The girls will be here in a couple of hours." Chet turned the oven to 325 and started unwrapping the birds.

"Where are the knives and do you have any kitchen shears?

"Knives are in that drawer," Chet said pointing. "I don't have shears but maybe some sheet metal shears in the garage."

Chet pulled the knives out and put the partially unwrapped chicken in the refrigerator.

Rocky started on the turkey.

"That guy said to cut the head off first."

"Not the way I learned it. Besides that is easier if you have the sheers."

Chet went to the garage and Rocky could hear him rummaging around. Finally he had the organs out and only the head, neck and feet remained to be removed. "Any luck?" He called to Chet.

"Could you come hold this light for me"

Rocky went to help Chet and in a few minutes they had the shears. As they entered the kitchen Chet looked around. "Where's the bird?"

"I left it on the counter."

From behind them they heard a noise. Chet turned to see the turkey slam into Rocky's back. Rocky flopped to the floor and rolled over onto his back.

"What the-" Then he rolled again as the turkey slammed into the spot where his head had been.

"Quick," Chet grabbed Rocky's arm and pulled him under the table.

They looked at each other, "What the hell is that?" they said together.

Rocky looked around the edge of the table. The bird flapped its naked wings and flew to the top of the counter. "It can fly," Rocky said.

"It can fly. That's impossible. Domesticated turkeys can't fly." Chet said.

"It doesn't have feathers or any insides but the flying part is what confuses you."

"We need those shears or a big knife. Remember the guy in the parking lot. He said we have to cut it's head off."

"You saying it's some kind of zombie turkey." Rocky

They looked at each other. "We have to cut its head off." they said together.

"I'll go left you right." Rocky stuck his head out again and the turkey smacked him in the forehead. He fell back but grabbed a leg The bird flapped its featherless wings and turned toward Rocky. He grabbed a wing with his free hand and then dropping the leg grabbed the other.

The turkey craned its head and Chet came up behind it and kicked it across the room.

"Why'd you do that? I had it." He had held on to the wing tips and they had both come off in his hands. He threw them to the floor.

"It was going to bite you. You would have turned into a zombie. I don't want to have to cut your head off."

"Right, wait. Zombies come from a virus. Do you think humans could catch it?" Rocky asked.

"You've heard of bird flu haven't you."

They looked at the bird across the room. It was hoping, trying to fly but could only get a few inches off the floor. "You keep it in the living room. I'll get the shears and other stuff."

Chet ran into the kitchen.

Rocky picked up a chair and blocked the doorway. The bird came at him but wasn't able to make it past the chair.

In seconds Chet was back. He had on some oven mitts and towels wrapped around his forearms. He handed some mitts and a cleaver to Rocky. "Back it against the wall. I'll grab its head and you chop it off."

As soon as Rocky moved the chair the turkey slipped past and into the kitchen. Both men ran after it. Rocky trapped it in a corner. Chet grabbed the roasting pan and trapped the bird under it.

"Great how do we cut its head off. "

"I'll inch up the pan a bit. When it sticks its head out you chop it off."

"On three."

"Just get ready." Chet raised the pan a bit. Nothing happened. "It must have heard our plan."

"It's a turkey."

"And how many featherless, gutless turkeys have you chased around."

A foot poked out from under the pan. Rocky brought the cleaver down. The foot slid across the floor. "The other end."

"Got it," Chet replied.

Rocky moved to the other side and Chet slowly raised the pan. The head came out and Rocky chopped it off. The bird trashed a bit under the pan and both leaned their weight on to it. In a few seconds it stopped.

"Think it's dead?"

"Only one way to be sure." Chet raised the pan a bit then more. "Get its other leg then we'll pop it in the oven."

Rocky lopped off the remaining leg and pulled open the oven. Chet slid in the pan and slammed it shut. "Hold that for a minute." He disappeared into the garage but was back in a flash.

"I was wondering how do we get rid of those?" Rocky pointed to the head and legs.

"Got to burn them I guess. Wrap them in the towels and I'll get some lighter fluid. Meet you out back."

They watched as the flames dwindled. Rocky sprayed more fluid onto the ashes and it flared up again. "Now what?" He checked his watch. "It's two or three hours before the girls get here and four until the turkey is done."

 

The boys were asleep in front of the TV when the girls let themselves in. "Our conquering heroes. They put a turkey in the oven and then they pass out." Janice shook her head.

"You're not going to believe this," Annabel called from the kitchen.

"What?" Janice replied.

"They've got a bicycle chain locked around the oven." Annabel said.

"The key's over here. Good thing because I need to cook the potatoes." Janice opened the refrigerator to store the salad.

 

--------------Short ending--------------------------------

 

A screech woke the boys from their nap. They heard some banging around in the kitchen.

"You think the chicken..." Chet asked.

"They can handle it."

What?"

They both play rugby. Some three pound bird is not going to get them."

 

---------------Alternative ending-------------------------------------

 

Janice woke Chet up with a not too gentle kick to his ribs.

"Oh. What--"

"I'm mad at you," Janice said.

"Speaking for men in general we've come to accept that inter-gender condition," Chet said.

"Do you know why?"

"Again for men in general we rarely know but in our defense we are seldom told the reason."

"Come look at this bird."

Chet rolled over and stood up. Rocky followed him into the kitchen. The turkey was on top of the stove. It was nearly black.

"I set the oven to four hundred. It seemed like a good idea," Chet said.

"Smart," Rocky said.

"Smart? You're lucky you got such a large bird. There might be some edible parts deep inside but most of it is charcoal. But not that bird, this one." Janice pointed to a stack of towels on the counter. A naked chicken head rose and stared at the two boys.

Both men backed up.

"Scared of a little chicken. It doesn't even have any feathers, It was freezing in the refrigerator."

"Ah, ah, ah." Both men stammered.

"Get a knife and see if there is anything salvageable in that lump of coal. The rest of the food is on the table." She picked up the chicken and petted it. It clucked softly but kept an eye on the boys.