The Chicken And The Road

Chester the chicken awoke with purpose, briskly rising from bed before his alarm sounded off, with several minutes to spare. Extending his wings out as far as chickenly possible, he allowed the stretch to reverberate through his core. There was no need to yawn this morning, because he was far too excited to conceivably be tired. Today is the day, he thought to himself, today is the day I cross the road. 

There was an energy that buzzed around him, like a spark that fueled a fire inside his chest. In a matter of minutes, Chester was up and out of bed, brushing his beak and cooking his grain breakfast. As the seeds sizzled he felt invigorated, alive, ready to tackle this day. He ate quickly, pecking his plate clean. As he turned to leave the coop, he took one last look in the mirror and gave his reflection a sly wink of confidence. Casually brushing back his feathers he said, “Go get ‘em rooster,” and kicked the cage closed behind him on his way out.

As he strutted through the hay-covered barn, he knew his puff-chested cockiness would draw attention. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it. After all he would become famous if he pulled this stunt off. Being the first chicken to ever cross the road would be a landmark achievement. Farms all over the country, nay, the world, would cockadoodledoo in awe. Many have dreamed it, some have even talked about doing it themselves. However, it still hasn’t been done. 

“Hmmmm wow, someone’s up early,” Henrietta the hen chuckled as Chester went by. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, honey bunny?” The two of them have always had a tit-for-tat flirtation over the years, but never seemed to hit it off just right. Of course that would change, once he did this. Chester was sure it’d be enough to win her over and finally make a nest of their own.

“Oh, nothing really,” Chester said trying to play it cool. “Just gunna, oh you know, cross the road. Maybe see if the grass is really greener on the other side.” Knowing she would catch it, he threw her a tiny wink to add a bit of suave, but kept it small enough so maybe she’d think he was casually ignoring her. Hens really seemed to dig that, for some reason. 

“No you’re not,” she chuckled in disbelief, “You’ve said that before. And Chester, no one’s ever done that.”

“Well there’s a first for everything, isn’t there?”

“Ha! Well, I suppose there’s some truth in that,” Henrietta rolled her eyes. She wanted to pretend she wouldn’t be impressed, but the thought did excite her. “I’m just saying. You come around saying something like that, you’re talking a big game. Sure it’d be somethin’ if you do it, but don’t come around just to ruffle my feathers.” 

Not missing a beat, Chester said, “Don’t you worry, I’m no smoke and mirrors, baby. I’m really gunna do it this time, you’ll see. And once I come back, maybe we should fly the coop sometime?” This time the wink was more deliberate.

Henrietta blushed. “Oh Chester! You’re such a silly goose!”

“Hey!” Gary the goose yelled from the stable next door, “I heard that!” 

“Sorry, Gary!” Henrietta quickly called back, “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Luckily her apology was well-received, but the interruption left an awkward moment of silence between the two of them. Chester took this queue to continue onwards, figuring it was better to keep things short, but definitely sweet.

“Well I guess I better be going,” he shrugged, “I best be on my way if I wanna cross before the morning traffic rolls in.” 

Sighing, Henrietta nodded him on. As he turned away, however, she called out after him, “Why do you wanna cross the road anyways? Sure it’s a big deal and all, but are you doing it all for show? What’s it really matter?”

Chester partially anticipated this. Most chickens just assumed that any attempt to cross the road would be for the fame, but his reasons ran deeper. It was something more. It was personal to him. Leaning back he chuckled, “Oh, you know, same as everyone else … to get to the other side!” 

“Hmmm, sureeeeee. You’re so mysterious, Chester.” Henrietta said fondly, but shrugged to give the impression of being not impressed. “Fine, be that way. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I guess so.” he shrugged back. Of course she wouldn’t be able to see, since the road was far enough from the barn that none of the other animals could witness the epic feature take place. This journey had to be a solo one. But Chester preferred it this way; to him, it added to the grandeur of the tale.

As he marched on he caught lots of stares from his neighbors. Most everyone knew, or could assume easily enough, where he was headed. A few even called out after him to jeer him on. Peter the pig shouted, “Ohhhh boy here we go! We got a Boss of the Barn comin’ through! You really going to do it Chester?”

“You better believe it!” Chester squaked back, without breaking his stride.

“Hey, Chester! Ya talk the talk, but are ya gunna walk the walk!” Carly the cow heckled as Chester approached the large gate. 

“Don’t you worry! I’ll cross that damn road and be back before you can jump over the moon!”

Chester crawled through the small hole in the wall that was hidden at the far corner of the barn and was finally outside. Once more, he stretched his wings and took in the fresh morning air. He didn’t stop for long, however. It was a long walk across the farm to get to the road and, being a chicken on a mission, he didn’t want to stop for anything. Now alone, slowly his mind drifted as he trudged through the mud-packed field. He thought of what Henrietta had said, and what she had asked. Why was he doing this? He never had revealed his true reasons. It was more significant for him. It resonated in him, since the inception had taken a deep root in his bones. A vendetta against fate. Chester didn’t like to talk about it with others. They just wouldn’t understand, he always concluded. They think it’s all for the glory; they just wouldn’t get it. He dreamt of this moment for years, for most of his life, really. There’s always been a whisper in his ear, a light pull tugging at his thoughts. He listened over time, and as he grew up he could define his why more clearly. Alone, Chester chuckled a little to himself. Here he could speak freely. “It’s always been because…”

WHOOOOOSH!

Chester leapt back, instantly in shock, startled by the car rushing by. He had stopped paying attention while he walked, and being so zoned-out he almost stepped right in front of oncoming traffic. Beside himself, he leaned forward to rest his wings on his knees and recover from the panic. It took a moment to find his center of balance and fully register that he had reached the road. Woah, that was close! In the spur of the moment he had completely forgotten what he was pondering. But it didn’t matter, he was here. There were no more cars in sight, but Chester still took his time scoping out the road. He was able to peer down roughly a half mile, give or take, in either direction before the asphalt curved out of sight. Regardless that was plenty of distance to assure his safety.

Having relaxed a bit, Chester regained his nerves and took a deep breath. Slowly he stepped one foot out, forward onto the pavement. 

Then he paused, frozen, unsure of his next move. Suddenly a trickle of hesitation went down his spine. Certainty seemed to evade him, and for the first time this morning he second guessed his cause. Trying to regain confidence, he stepped out with his second foot. But no sense of calm came over him. In fact, the weight of doubt only seemed to double. Chester’s heartbeat escalated, and breathing seemed more difficult. When did it get this hot? Chester thought to himself. No, something’s not right. 

He retracted his feet, slowly, one by one until he had fully stepped off the pavement. Until his breathing steadied, Chester stood there silently, completely still. Time was frozen; it could have been moments or hours before he did anything. Completely unable to break free of this anxiety that gripped him, he tried reminding himself of his purpose. But his memory was blank, as if it had evaporated off the black concrete before him. He craned his neck back, weighing the option of a return journey. Forward or backward, what seemed like his only two choices. Petrified, there was seemingly no hope for a clear decision. 

As he returned his gaze forward to the road ahead, something shiny caught the corner of his eye. Something small on the ground, silver, reflecting the sunlight. Chester reached out and picked up the peculiar object, holding the thin round medallion between his feathers. Unable to make out the inscription, he stared blankly at the raised etching of a head on the top side. After rotating it he recognized the etchings of a distant cousin, the eagle, on the back. An idea popped into his head. 

Chester focused his attention on the road, and muttered a few words to himself through his closed beak. Then he flipped the coin in the air, letting it fall freely to the ground at his feet. Without disturbing it as it laid in a final resting place, he checked the result, and sighed with relief.

“Not today,” he said. Then he turned around and chickened out.