The
chicken that laid no eggs
Visiting
an old relative in the lower slopes of the mountain, Ez found the
villagers unusually upset – for a quite Sunday - and the reason for
such turmoil, as he soon learned, was a chicken that laid no eggs.
Taking
the risk of provocation and bearing in mind that he would have to
listen back again to the whole story of the aviator who first crossed
the Atlantic, he left António and his wife waiting within the owl
light of their living room and off he went to the plaza.
Outside
it was hot but at least the flies were busy with something else. And
he could move!
The
narrow streets, the houses - all stone polished by elements, time and
maybe some human will, just about where ordering happened, couldn't
be more real. As he walked, he could feel the somewhat freshness
coming from the cowsheds carpeted with hay. He had no idea what he
was going to do, but as soon as he entered the plaza the rabble faced
him with a solid expression and that was hard to take.
At
the center, on the top of a circle a few feet higher than the ground,
which he thought to be the cover of a well, stood a man holding the
chicken by the paws. They too, were looking at him. They were about
to kill her and since everyone kept staring at him, he could not
avoid but ask why?
According
to the tradition, said one of the men, if a chicken lays no eggs for
a whole month we have to kill her. Being an educated person, Ez was
against whimsical traditions and so he asked the villagers to give
the chicken a 2nd chance – maybe she was needing a
change of grass or of sights - but this last thought was only his
own - and one more week... who would care? After some reluctance,
they agreed, with the promise that, next Sunday, he would kill the
chicken himself in case she kept the strange behavior.
Needless
to say, but I will, Ez took the chicken to the city. He killed her
alright, not because she laid no eggs, which she did, but because his
flat was to small and hygienic for eggs and chickens.
By
the way, he ate her too. That was the least he could do!
©
José Coelho, 2015
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