Read Online Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer by Kelly Jones - Free Book Online Page A

while I was doing my deliveries, but it needs to be picked up today. Can you go get it, or do you want me to ask and see if someone else can take it?”
    I bit my lip. It was nice of Gregory to try and help us out—I’ve told him before that my parents aren’t that into farm animals—but if this really was one of your special chickens, Agnes would expect me to make sure it was safely with the rest. Probably whoever Gregory could find to take it wouldn’t have special chickens, and I bet regular chickens weren’t going to like living with this one, if it was anything like Henrietta. Unless it was Ms. Griegson he was thinking of. “Can you hang on for just a minute while I ask my dad?”
    I wasn’t quite sure what part of the phone to cover, but I did my best. I thought really fast. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want Dad to say no either. “Dad, more of Great-Uncle Jim’s chickens turned up. Gregory says we need to pick them up today. If we can’t afford to take responsibility for them, he’ll try to find someone else who can.” (I figured I might as well get the other two cleared up at the same time.)
    Dad looked pretty mad. I know he hates it when people think we might need special help. (I felt bad about making him mad on purpose, but really, these chickens need to be safe.) He stomped over to the doorway to Mom’s study and yanked the door open. Mom’s writing music blasted out into the hall.
    My stomach settled down a little bit and I started to think again. Mom hates charity even more than Dad does, so I thought maybe things would be okay. (People always think Mom and I are poor. They even did when we had some money, just because we’re brown. Mom’s used to it, but it still makes her mad, even more so now that we really are poor. I don’t think Dad will ever get used to it.)
    I picked up the pencil from the hall table and uncovered the phone. “Thanks for waiting, Gregory. Where should we pick the chicken up?”
    There was a long pause, and then Gregory said, “Sophie, do you know anything about how to keep these kinds of chickens?”
    He hadn’t told me what breed of chicken it was. But I knew exactly what he meant. So Gregory knew about Great-Uncle Jim’s unusual chickens. But Agnes said I couldn’t tell anyone, and that included Gregory. I wasn’t going to mess things up now.
    I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I said. Maybe I didn’t know all about chicken diseases and Epsom salts and all of that, but Agnes was teaching me about special chickens, and as far as I could tell, I knew as much about them as anyone else around. Except maybe Ms. Griegson. But you know what Agnes thinks about that. It’s my responsibility to protect your chickens.
    “Yes, I do,” I said.
    There was another long pause, so long I thought maybe the phone had stopped working. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I didn’t pass Gregory’s test. Why had he called me if he didn’t think I could take care of this new chicken?
    And then Gregory sighed. “Just be careful, okay?”
    I wrote down directions while Mom and Dad argued some more. By the time they came out to tell me I’d have to take care of the new chickens too, I already had all the information. So I dutifully told Gregory my parents had agreed, and he hung up so he could call and let the people who’d found the chicken know I’d be coming for her.
    Dad looked at his watch and sighed. “I’m already late to meet Bob about that replacement tractor key. Sophie, it’s just going to have to wait until I’m back.”
    “No problem, Dad,” I said, and gave him a hug as Mom walked back into her study and turned the music back up.
    I gave it about ten minutes, long enough for Mom to be wrapped up in her work again. Then I knocked on her door and asked if I could walk over and pick the chickens up myself, since it was only a mile away.
    “Sure, whatever, just give me another fifteen minutes,” Mom said, not looking up.
    So I decided I better go get that