The child drew her eyes to the rooster when it sounded a piercing churr, the shiny hackles jutted out along its neck, a warning swallowed in the bird’s waxing plumage. Quietly, Wrenna turned her gaze back to Gillis.
Tired of the coal miner’s taunting, I dug out my timepiece. Already one o’clock. Where was Mr. Morgan? I snapped the watch shut, dropped it back into my bag, and shifted at the top of the courthouse steps, waiting, sneaking glances down to the town as an older gentleman climbed up the thirty-six stairs toward me. Pressing my earlobes between my fingers, I felt for Pearl’s earrings. Satisfied they were safe, I dug out the compact of pressed powder she’d given me and inspected my makeup in the tiny mirror. I had been careful to apply it lightly, but enough to make me appear a bit older. I checked my lipstick, then looked back over my shoulder at the courthouse doors.
Businessmen and attorneys bustled in and out of the stately white building, the scents of stale coffee and smoke-filled corridors haloing before escaping into the sunshine.
I turned back to the town below. Across the street, coal miners loitered outside the Company store, smoking their Camels and Lucky Strikes, drinking ice-cold Cokes, Ale-8-Ones, and harder beverages while bantering after another brutal morning shift. Bonnie saw me standing at the top of the steps and waved, then pulled out seeds from the large breast pocket of her threadbare bib overalls and threw one to Tommie.
But the bird wasn’t interested today. Instead, Tommie picked up the sunflower seed, bobbed his head, and shuffled up sideways to Gillis. Clucking deep, hopping excitedly, the bird dropped the kernel at his feet.
Amused, Gillis bent down and flicked the seed back.
Bonnie stood back and smiled thinly.
The men roared, shouting vulgarities. “Look’a there, fellers, damn bird’s done turned Gillis into a fairy boy!” one of them hollered. “Baak-bak-bak! Cock-whipped!” another cackled into the miners’ howls.
Reddening, Gillis took a hard puff off his cigarette and swallowed the smoke through clenched teeth before exhaling it out his nostrils.
The day was unbearably warm, and I peeled off my sweaty gloves and stuffed them inside the bag, drying my damp hands on the sides of my dress. Somewhere an automobile door slammed above the distant thrum of rail song from coal trains moving through the pines. I searched for Mr. Morgan in the parking lot below and scanned the storefronts, my eyes resting on Bonnie once more. She scowled at Gillis and said something, then flung another morsel onto the sidewalk. Again, Tommie plucked it up and preened, tidbitting for Gillis before tossing it at him.
Gillis’s jaw hardened, and he flicked his cigarette toward Tommie, cursed, and slapped at the rooster, his hands catching only air.
Wrenna silently watched from the street.
The men laughed harder, bursts of hoots and more hollers ringing through town square.
A businessman whisked past me, hurrying down the courthouse steps, a brew of strong coffee, cigar smoke, and spicy cologne hovering, tickling the back of my throat. Coughing, I lifted a hand and fanned my face.
Shop bells jingled greetings as townsfolk went about their daily business, the warm Kentucky afternoon slowly sweeping into another, the cadences of today folding into yesterday.
I tugged at the collar of my clean dress, wiped a brow. Overhead, a crow cawed across sunny blue skies. Another answered back, its grating bickers swallowed in the hills.
Gillis cursed loudly again and snatched one of Tommie’s tail feathers.
“Damn you, Gillis!” Bonnie screamed and threw a handful of seeds at the miner.
Tommie scurried to pick them up. Gillis kicked at the bird, and Tommie shrilled and batted his wings, the hackles rising around the neck. Briskly, the rooster hopped up and slashed Gillis’s pants leg, the claws ripping into the soiled fabric.
“I’ll ring your gawdamn neck, you—” Gillis bent over to grab the bird. Tommie squawked and pecked his hand, sprang upward again, slashing long nails down the miner’s other leg.
Gillis kicked and shook Tommie off, then stooped over and swung his arm, knocking the angry bird sideways. Bonnie smacked at Gillis, and he threw back his fist punching her dead square in the jaw. She shrieked and stumbled back against the store, bouncing off the thick shop-glass windows.
Gasping, I pressed a darkening palm over my mouth, and my eyes fell back on Wrenna.
Unmoved, Wrenna stood alone in the street, barefoot, watching Gillis’s jeering face. Slowly, she turned to Bonnie and stared a moment before cupping a hand to her cheek and calling out an abrupt, loud oo-oo, signaling hens in danger.
Pressing my hands over my ears, I stepped back and tumbled into a man rushing out of the courthouse. Annoyed, he shoved me away. I drew my eyes back down to the Company store.
“Oo-oo,” Wrenna rang out once more.
Tommie stopped, tilted his head toward Wrenna and then back to Bonnie. Suddenly he flew up in a frenzy at Gillis once, twice, and again and again, pecking, clawing, and tearing at flesh, driving his long, sharp spurs into the man’s face, eyes, and neck, the blood squirting onto the sidewalk, splattering storefront windows and even the clothing and faces of surprised miners.
The men yelled and cursed, their voices vibrating throughout the town.
Staggering, Gillis turned in circles, stomping and clutching his head, screaming to shed the enraged bird. He dropped to his knees, trying to cradle his face, while the blood trailed down on his hands and arms.
The group of coal miners scattered, some into stores, others to Gillis’s side, shouting, slapping, kicking at the furious rooster.
Bonnie shifted her eyes to Wrenna, a mixture of awe and satisfaction in the widow’s gaze.
Feeling ill, I turned around and gagged, my bile threatening to escape, the sight of violence and so much blood churning, roiling inside. A hand gripped my elbow, startling me. “Inside, Honey. You don’t want to see anymore.” Mr. Morgan nudged me over to the courthouse doors.
But it was too late. I heard Wrenna’s musical coo-coo-coos. Drawn to the lyrical notes, I glanced back down and saw the blood-smattered bird rapidly toe-hopping away from the man’s limp body, racing off nearly in flight toward the young girl.
Wrenna scooped up Tommie, nestled him into the crook of her arm, and marched doggedly away from town.