No one knew why the chicken races had started, only that
they'd been a staple of the Moshkovinia harvest festival for as long as anyone
could remember. Unlike geese, or even swans, chickens made terrible
steeds. They were excitable and easily distracted, making them hard to control,
but that was what made the races so much fun for spectators to watch.
The event had been River's favorite since he was a small
boy. Each year he had begged his father to let him enter with one of their
flock, but his father never allowed it. "Those hens would eat you right
up, if you fell off," he'd say with a chuckle. "You'll have to wait
till you're bigger."
Now, at 16, and thanks to a growth spurt since his last
birthday, River towered six inches over his father. "I reckon this is your
year," his father said when River once again announced his desire to enter
the race. "You might as well ride Gemima, she's the smartest hen in the
flock."
The day of the festival River loaded Gemima and all her tack
into the wagon they usually used to bring produce to the weekly market and made
his way into town. Strings of solar lights had been hung from the massive tree
trunks that towered over the fairgrounds, while thick ropes of hefty flowers
braided together festooned the various booths. Inside the tents were colorful
displays of quilts, canned goods, pies and miniature fruits and vegetables
galore.
"River! Hey, are you finally racing this year?" A
girl with long, dark coils of hair spilling down her back emerged from one of
the animal tents, a miniature rooster tucked under her arm.
"Hi, Aikila. Who's that you have there?" River
asked.
"This is Max, I'm showing him today in the miniature
fowl competition." The randy little bird puffed up at the sight of Gemima,
a glint in his eye. "She's too much woman for you, silly." Akila
laughed at the Rooster.
"Gemima and I are heading over to the paddock now.
We're in the second race." River met Akila's eyes with a smile, the sparkle
in his eye not dissimilar to that of the little rooster. "Are you going to
come watch us win?"
Akila pursed her lips and arched a dark eyebrow. "I just
might. But who says you're going to win? It's your first time competing. Don't
you think that's a bit...cocky?" She grinned at her own pun.
With a squawk, the little rooster broke free from Aikla's
grasp and fluttered to the ground, where it made a beeline for Gemima's
trailer. "Hey! Come back here, you!"
Akila and River both lunged for the rooster, bobbing and
weaving after him as he fluttered just out of their grasp again and again.
Gemima clucked anxiously, seemingly unaware that she was large enough to
flatten the aggressive smaller bird with one good stomp.
By the time Max had been captured and safely contained in
his cage, both Akila and River were weak with laughter.
"It's hard to believe they all used to be his
size." River marveled, watching the irate little rooster puffing up his
chest with indignation at his romantic overtures being thwarted.
"Yea, so weird." Akila agreed. "I've heard
people used to feed wild birds, even." She shuddered involuntarily.
"Can you imagine?" She and River exchanged a somber look, both
recalling the gym teacher whose class witnessed a hawk plucking him off the
playing field only a few months back. Although many, many generations in the
past, nuclear war had wrought irreversible changes to the natural environment.
Birds, trees, and other species had evolved over time to gargantuan
proportions, helped along by the increased radiation in the atmosphere.
Although most public areas like the fairgrounds sported netting to protect
against bird attacks, the random incident did still occur.
A burst of static rent the air, followed by a crackly
announcement calling all chicken racers to prepare their steeds and bring them
to the paddock in the next ten minutes.
"That's me, then. Will I see you over there?"
River asked.
"Sure, I'll be there." Akila blushed, despite
herself.
River suppressed a grin as he picked up the handle of the
wagon and resumed his trek with Gemima towards the barn where racers and their
steeds were already gathering. Regardless of how the race turned out, he was
already feeling like a winner.
Image credit to: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/qMAUDXkE7ZM/hqdefault.jpg
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