Jenny always asked herself that, but she never found a satisfactory answer. Now she was being thrust into the closet again, and she still had no idea what in the name of Greeb was going on. Her father looked over her shoulder and grunted dazedly. He shrugged and glanced at the time. It was finally midnight, but the bees hadn't gone home yet. He didn't want to bother them, so he crawled out the window and disappeared into the night.
Jenny plunked down in the corner and grabbed the first book that came to hand. It was a paperback volume on Roman history, translated into French. She sighed. "Je deteste—"
VrrrrrrrOOOOaaaarrrr!!! A vacuum cleaner broke in on her thoughts. Before Jenny had time to process this fully, her father crawled back in the window and fell asleep.
"Pssst!"
Jenny looked down. The book in her hand gazed up at her adoringly and whispered, "Do chickens float?"
"What?"
"Do chickens float?"
If Jenny hadn't been so flabbergasted, it would have occurred to her that she felt extremely flabbergasted. "Do . . . what?"
The book sighed. "Chickens. You know, those birds covered in feathers that peck around barnyards—at least, they do in childrens' storybooks, but I've never seen it myself."
Jenny nodded vaguely. This closet was so weird.
"Do they?"
"Huh?"
Jenny could have sworn the book rolled its eyes, but it didn't have any eyes that she could see. "Don't be silly, girl. You know the kinds of birds I'm talking about. Chickens. They eat grain and bugs and whatever until they're dead. Then you eat them."
"So?"
"So do they float?"
"Ummm . . ." Jenny hated to admit she had no idea, but honestly she'd never thought about that before.
"What do they do if you throw them in the water? Do they sink? Do they swim? Do they just flap around and cackle a lot? What happens?"
Jenny shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll bet if you threw one into liquid nitrogen it would freeze really cool."
The book grinned. "I'll have to try that sometime." It settled contentedly into her hand, and Jenny resumed reading. The bees outside seemed to be dispersing, but it was really slow going. They were probably flying uphill. Jenny's dad climbed out the window again. It was going to be a long night.
2 comments:
Interesting, yet confusing, which is what every writer strives for I suppose. Why did her dad crawl out the window? Why was she in the closet? I assume that she was big enough to hold a book but was she human?
Toodles.
Ok, so technically I was bored, waiting in the sound booth at the now-destroyed church building, for everyone to leave after a wake so Kenny and I could straighten up and go home. He kept coming in and out at random intervals, and I thought it was more interesting if I made him Jenny's father and had him crawling in and out of the window instead of walking in and out the door. I was Jenny at times, and I think he and I had a discussion about chickens floating. I forget why. He said the thing about liquid nitrogen. I forget most of the rest of it, except that I just wanted to go home and go to bed.
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