by Raymond Bean
I nodded.
We slowly lowered ourselves out of the tree and walked carefully toward the turkey. It was huge and had loads of feathers. It was facing away from us and didn’t hear us coming until we were right near it. Darwin made a lunge for it and missed. The turkey took off running through the bushes. We ran after it and tried our best to keep up.
We must have chased that turkey for two hours before it got so tired it simply let us pick it up. Darwin grabbed it from behind and wrapped his arms around the wings.
“What do we do with it?” he asked.
“Let’s take it back to my house. We’ll eat it for Thanksgiving.”
“Awesome!”
We slowly made our way back out of the woods and to my backyard. The girls were playing soccer, and Mom and Aunt Vanessa were sitting at the patio table. I thought Aunt Vanessa was going to fall down when she saw her son holding a massive turkey.
“Get a rope!” Darwin ordered, struggling to carry the turkey. The girls screamed and ran into the house, leaving the back door open. Mom and Aunt Vanessa both shouted for Darwin to put the turkey down.
“We need a cage or some kind of rope,” I said. “Hold on to it while I go grab something.”
“Hurry,” Darwin said. “I’m losing my grip.”
I sprinted to the garage, where Mom kept an old toddler corral from when I was little. Dad had been telling her to throw it out for years, but she liked to keep it around in case anyone ever came by with a little kid. I threw the pieces in the wheelbarrow and raced around to where Darwin had the turkey.
I quickly linked the pieces of the corral together and created a pen for the turkey. The whole time Mom and Aunt Vanessa were talking a mile a minute. I was so excited I could hardly hear what they were saying. When the corral was ready, Darwin dropped the turkey in and gave me a high five. Then I noticed that blood was dripping from his cheek and one of his legs.
“That was awesome!” he shouted.
“I know!” I said.
“Justin!” Mom cried.
“What?”
“Don’t you realize our yard is fenced? We’ve been trying to tell you that you don’t need the kiddie corral.”
I laughed. “I didn’t even hear you saying that. We were so focused on it getting away.”
“You might as well leave it,” Darwin said. “He seems to like it.”
“What in the world is that thing?” Aunt Vanessa asked.
“It’s a wild turkey,” I said. “We’re going to eat it on Thanksgiving.”
11
Turkey Heroes
After about half an hour of our convincing my mom and Googling how to take care of a turkey, Mom and Aunt Vanessa agreed to let us keep the bird for a few days if we agreed to release him on Thanksgiving. We said we would.
“You’re really going to let them keep this gigantic bird in the backyard?” Becky asked Mom.
“I’m not thrilled about the idea, but look how much fun they’re having. If they let it go on Thanksgiving, I don’t see the harm.”
“Besides,” I said, “while the rest of the world is eating turkeys, we’ll be setting one free.”
“Yeah,” Darwin said. “It’s like we’re turkey heroes or something.”
By the time we came in and took showers, it was after ten. We had spent the entire day outside with the turkey. Darwin and I were watching TV in my room when he said, “I think I have something in my hair.”
I knew immediately it was a tick. “Mom!” I shouted. “You might want to come up here.”
The woods behind my house were loaded with ticks. My dad said that when he was a kid, there weren’t any ticks. I usually stayed on paths and out of the bushes and tall grass, so I rarely got them, but we were running through all of it when we chased the turkey. If Darwin had one, I knew I probably had a few more.
Mom and Aunt Vanessa picked over us like mama chimpanzees looking for bugs. I had three ticks, and Darwin had six! It was so gross. After Mom plucked them off of us, she made us each take a bath and then a shower to be sure they were all gone.
When we finally got to bed around midnight, I was exhausted. I lay in my bed, and Darwin was on the floor with his sleeping bag. I had on a dust mask I’d found in the garage to help protect against the smell of his yuck mouth. He was already just about asleep. The turkey gobbled outside.
“Sorry about the ticks,” I said through my mask.
“Totally worth it,” he mumbled, and fell asleep.
I rolled over to face away from him. He was right. It was totally worth it.
12
The Worst
Case of Poison Ivy Ever
I woke up first the next morning. It was Monday, and I totally didn’t want to go to school. I looked out my window and saw the turkey out in his pen, gobbling away. I went online and Googled what I should feed him. It said they eat just about anything, including snakes, which is not cool. They love acorns and will eat birdseed.
I ran downstairs and went out to the shed, where Dad keeps the birdseed. I threw a handful of seed into the pen and gathered up a bunch of acorns from under the big trees in the front yard. In the fall, our lawn is covered with acorns, so that was easy enough. Then I went inside to wake up Darwin. When I got to my room, he was still sleeping, but I noticed something I hadn’t seen when I first woke up. His face was completely swollen and covered in a poison ivy rash. I looked a little closer and saw that it was on his hands too.
“Darwin,” I whispered, pinching my nose. “Wake up, buddy. I think you may have a touch of poison ivy.”
“Huh?” he mumbled, starting to come out of it.
“Looks like you have a little case of the itchies there, pal.” I was trying to make it sound as if it wasn’t a big deal, but he was in trouble.
He sat up and immediately started scratching his face.
“Take it easy,” I said. “You don’t want to pop those blisters.” It was easily the worst case of poison ivy I’d ever seen, and I’d had it pretty bad before. The poison ivy that grows in the woods behind my house is super strong. Even when the trees drop their leaves for the season, the poison ivy vines and dead leaves are still dangerous. Our neighbor gets it every year when he rakes his leaves.
He stood up and walked toward the mirror. I could see that it was all up his arms and on his legs too.
“I think you might have a little poison ivy,” I said.
He took one look in the mirror and shrieked loud enough that everyone in the house woke up. They ran into my room one after the other. Each of them reacted the same way. It was as though Darwin had mutated overnight. Mom got the doctor on the phone, and Dad looked through the medicine cabinet for some poison ivy cream, even though all the cream in the world wouldn’t help the rash Darwin was dealing with. The girls looked as if they might get sick.
“Is it that bad?” Darwin asked Mindy.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s, like, the worst case of poison ivy ever!”
I had to give it to Mindy. She was honest.
“Don’t say that to him,” Aunt Vanessa said.
“It’s true,” Becky exclaimed. “Would you rather we tell him he’s fine? Look at him! His head looks like a brain!”
“You’re going to be fine,” I reassured him. “I’ve had poison ivy so many times. It will be gone in a few days.”
“Did you ever have it this bad?” he asked.
No, I thought, no one’s ever had it that bad.
13
Wonderful
Dad loaded the girls and me into his car and drove us to school, and Mom and Aunt Vanessa took Darwin to the doctor. I was pretty exhausted from being up so late the night before and all the poison ivy drama in the morning. I’d forgotten all about our Thanksgiving feast on Tuesday.
We spent most of the day finishing up our costumes for the parents to come in for the feast. Mrs. Cliff explained that the Pilgrims didn’t have enough tables and chairs so they used whatever they had, like barrels, planks of wood, and tre
e stumps, to eat on. She explained that the Pilgrims didn’t have sugar or ovens at the first Thanksgiving, so there were no pies. She went on to say that they didn’t even have forks, so most of the eating was done with their hands.
“Can we eat that way?” I asked, figuring she’d get mad at me.
“Yes, Justin. We’ll try our best to re-create the feast of the first Thanksgiving. And to really make the experience authentic, we’ll eat outside. Several parents are helping with the cooking and following recipes I gave them using only ingredients that would have been available at the time of the first Thanksgiving.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a small figure scurry across the floor. I got up and lunged at it. It felt warm and furry in my hand. “I did it!” I cried. “I got another mouse!”
Mrs. Cliff tried to fake a smile. “Wonderful.”
14
His Mouth Died, and
His Body Kept On Living
When I got home, Mom told me that Darwin wasn’t feeling very well. The doctor had had to give him a shot for the poison ivy to try to stop it from spreading. I went upstairs to my room and found him lying in my bed, sleeping. I wasn’t too thrilled about him being in my bed with the worst case of poison ivy the world has ever seen.
I went back downstairs. “Mom, I don’t want to come off mean or insensitive, but is it such a good idea for Darwin to be in my bed with all that poison ivy?”
“The doctor said it’s fine. He said as long as I wash the sheets before you go back in them, you’ll be fine.”
“Still, it’s kind of gross.”
Mom was pretty angry. “I think you’re being kind of selfish. Imagine you were down in Florida and you got poison ivy. I’ll bet Darwin would let you use his bed.”
“I wouldn’t ask to sleep in someone else’s bed if I was covered in poison ivy. I’d sleep on a couch or in a sleeping bag or something, but not in someone’s bed. What if I get it?”
“We’re done talking about this,” Mom said.
I walked back up to my room and checked on the snakes. Then I clicked on the TV and sat in the chair at my desk. I was watching Sports Recap on the baseball channel when I smelled it. I would know that smell anywhere: Darwin’s breath. Yuck Mouth! I thought. I turned on my fan, even though it was pretty cold outside, and grabbed a bottle of room freshener from the bathroom and sprayed it around. It didn’t help. I could still smell the yuck.
I walked to Becky’s room. She was on the computer, and Mindy was working on her homework. “Hey, guys, Darwin is in my bed, and he’s covered in poison ivy.”
“We know,” Mindy said. “We saw. That’s not cool.”
“Thank you! Mom acted like I was being difficult because I didn’t want him in my bed. I’ll bet she wouldn’t want him in her bed either. He’s been closed up in there all day and night, and his breath is unbelievable! It’s like his mouth died and the rest of his body kept on living.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Becky said.
“It’s worse,” I assured her.
My dad appeared at the door. “Hey, Justin, your turkey is gobbling like crazy out there. Are you really planning on keeping him until Thanksgiving?”
“It’s going to be a cool thing on Thanksgiving, Dad. Also, I’m protecting him, because if someone finds him between today and Thanksgiving, they might want to eat him. I’m kind of a turkey hero.”
“You’re ridiculous, but you’re not a hero,” Becky said.
“Can’t I be both?” I said.
“Whatever you are, there’s a gobbling turkey in our yard that needs your attention,” Dad said.
I walked outside and gave the turkey some more seed and water. I threw a few more acorns in for him. He looked at me and gobbled.
“Hang in there, big fella. I know you want to get out of here, but it’s too dangerous. If I let you go now, there’s a good chance you’ll end up on someone’s dinner table. I’m not going to let that happen.”
I hung out with the turkey for a while and then went in to check on Darwin. He was in a lot of pain and super itchy. His mom said he hadn’t eaten anything all day. I slept on the couch that night because between Darwin’s breath, the scratching, and the moaning from the itching, I felt like I was in the zoo.
15
You Haven’t
Been That Nasty Lately
On Tuesday morning, I checked on the snakes. I was proud of myself because they hadn’t made it out of the tanks for a few weeks. I couldn’t even remember the last time my sisters or my parents complained about them.
Then I went out in the yard to check on the turkey. He seemed pretty happy to see me. I’d never really spent time with a turkey before. I decided to name him Turkey Sandwich.
Darwin was still in bed, so I went up to check on him. He was awake and watching TV.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Like I was stung by every mosquito from here to Florida. My body itches so bad, it’s humming.”
“That stinks. Hey, I named our new friend out there Turkey Sandwich. What do you think?”
“That’s awesome! Turkey Sandwich,” he repeated and laughed.
“Why do you have my socks on your hands?”
“Your mom gave them to me to keep me from scratching. Thanks for letting me stay in your bed. I don’t think I could have slept on the floor in the sleeping bag last night.”
“No problem.” I felt really bad for Darwin. I guessed having him sleep in my bed wasn’t such a big deal compared to how uncomfortable he felt. “Hey, we’re having a Thanksgiving feast at my school today. My teacher’s having parents make the food the way they did in the olden days, and we’re going to eat with our hands and stuff. It’ll probably be lame, but if you feel up to it, you should come up. It’s at one o’clock. You could walk up there if you want. The school’s two blocks up the road, or I’m sure my mom or dad would drive you.”
“Thanks, Justin. You’re my favorite boy cousin,” he said.
“Thanks, but I’m your only boy cousin,” I reminded him.
“True, but you’re still the best one.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty cool too. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
I walked to school because the weather was really nice. Mom and Dad said they’d be up for the feast at one. I was so excited to get through the day and have a five-day break for Thanksgiving.
I had to admit that Mrs. Cliff was pretty nice over the days leading up to Thanksgiving. I unpacked and sat down at my desk.
“Justin, I’ve noticed you’ve been much more behaved these past few days. I wanted you to know I’m proud of you for that.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Cliff. I was just thinking how you haven’t been that nasty the past few days. I mean to say, you’ve been really nice lately too. Thanks. I don’t want to get in trouble, so I should probably stop talking.”
“That might be a good idea,” she said.
16
Eat Up
We had to have the feast inside because it started raining really hard around eleven. We worked together all morning getting the last-minute decorations up on the walls, putting on our costumes, and setting the class for the feast. Half the kids in the class were Pilgrims, and the others were Native Americans. I was a Pilgrim with a tall black hat and a collared shirt. It was actually kind of fun.
The room looked pretty good by the time the parents arrived. They sat where they could, and the kids stood because Mrs. Cliff reminded us that at the first Thanksgiving, the children didn’t sit. I actually liked standing more because I don’t like sitting all day long at school.
Mrs. Cliff explained that at the first Thanksgiving they probably didn’t have dessert after the meal, so we could choose to have dessert first if we wanted. The kids all cheered. But as the parents put out the food, it became clear that their Thanksgiving desserts weren’t what we were expecting. There were no pies, and everything that was supposed to be a dessert tasted pretty gross.
“If you remember, there wasn�
��t any sugar, so the desserts weren’t sweet like we’re used to today,” Mrs. Cliff reminded us.
May said, “If I’d lived back then, I don’t think I would have eaten a whole lot of dessert.”
“I understand,” Mrs. Cliff said. “Also, they would have had a lot of meat. Historical records indicate that the main meat at the feast was venison. Does anyone know what that is?”
Cameron raised his hand. “It’s deer meat.”
“You’re right. They would have eaten deer meat and some wild birds for sure. No one can say for certain if they had turkey or not.”
Cameron’s dad walked around the table and offered everyone a plate of venison. Most of the kids didn’t try it. Dad and I did, and it tasted pretty good. The best part was we had to eat it with our hands.
“We should do this at home,” I said to Mom.
“For someone who complains about school all the time, you seem to be having a pretty good time, Mr. Pilgrim.”
“It’s not usually like this,” I said. “It’s usually much more boring and lame. Today is pretty cool, though.”
The rain outside was really picking up. The parking lot was starting to fill with puddles. The adults all said stuff like, “It’s a good thing we didn’t have the feast outside.” Mrs. Cliff seemed to be having a great time all dressed up as a Native American woman.
Mrs. Cliff stood up and spoke to the group again. “We’ll have turkey today, but on the real Thanksgiving, they may have had swan or other wild birds too. Since we don’t eat swan, we’ll go with turkeys.”
Two of the parents brought in cooked turkeys and placed them on the table. I couldn’t help but think of my poor buddy Turkey Sandwich at home in the rain. I helped pass the turkey plate along to the next person and thought, You’re a lucky bird, Turkey Sandwich.
Then Mrs. Cliff explained that the first Thanksgiving probably had a lot of seafood. The parents brought in a few lobsters, a few cooked fish, and some clams. She explained that the first Thanksgiving might have included seal meat, but we certainly were not going to eat that.
