Chicken Hunt
Titel: Chicken Hunt
Challenge: Der Blick zurück (oder nach vorne)
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Charaktere: Babe Heffron, Eugene Roe, a chicken
Sprache: Englisch
Kommentar: Fortsetzung zu dem hier.
“I hate this chicken. I hope a fox gets it.”
Chicken Hunt
“I hate this chicken”, Babe declared after at least two hours of fruitless search. “I hope a fox gets it.” He stopped in the middle of the road with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
Eugene came to a halt next to him. “You ain’t gonna be that lucky. Not a lot of foxes out here.”
“Then maybe an alligator”, Babe said grimly. He stood up straight again, moving damp strands of reddish hair out of his face with one hand while he cast a look around, but the cursed chicken was nowhere to be seen.
When he squinted up into the clear sky above, he was almost blinded by the sun that was burning down on them with no cloud in sight. There was no shade on the road and the humid air made it hard to breathe. Eugene still looked remarkably composed, but Babe was a mess, with a red face and his shirt soaked through with sweat. He kicked a pebble down the road in frustration. “It’s so goddamn fast! No bird without functional wings has any right to be this fast!”
“Chickens can be pretty fast”, Eugene agreed with him. Then he took Babe by the arm. “Here, sit down before you faint on me.”
“I’m not gonna faint”, Babe protested, but he let himself be pulled into the shade of a big oak tree on the side of the road, where he sank down into the cool grass with a sigh.
Eugene settled down next to him. “You’re at least gonna get sunburnt if you keep running around like this” he said with a look at Babe’s uncovered shoulders that were already starting to redden.
Babe frowned at him. “Well, we can’t all tan like you. Seriously, I never imagined you could be anything other than white as a wall. Besides”, he pointed at his red hair, “I’m handicapped.”
Eugene shook his head, but the corners of his mouths were quirked with amusement. “That’s why I told you to wear a jacket.”
“You want me to get head stroke?” He shifted so he could lean his back against the trunk of the tree. “I still might. I feel like my brain is cooking in my skull.”
“You ain’t got heatstroke. People with heat stroke don’t sweat anymore.” Still Eugene put his finger on Babe’s wrist to feel his pulse for a moment. “Nah, you’re fine.”
“Well, that’s reassuring”, Babe quipped. “But in case I do get it, promise me to save my ass.”
Eugene rolled his eyes at him, but he still said: “Always.”
Babe leaned back so he could look up at the foliage, taking a couple of deep breaths. “I can’t remember when I last walked that much. I feel like I just ran Currahee”, he said.
Eugene chuckled lowly. “You never ran Currahee”, he pointed out.
Babe just shrugged. “Yeah, but I always imagined it like this.”
“At least the chicken doesn’t shout at us and tells us we’re all gonna die”, Eugene said, suddenly a lot more serious.
Babe threw him a glance. “Well, we didn’t, did we?”
“No”, Eugene said slowly. “I suppose we didn’t.”
Silence settled between them for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence. There was no breeze to rustle the leaves, the air was heavy and still, but somewhere farther away the sound of a stray cicada could be heard.
Eugene leaned closer so that their shoulders were touching. “You know, it’ll probably be back for feeding time.”
Babe turned towards him. “You’re telling me this now?” he said incredulously.
Eugene shrugged. “You looked like you were kinda enjoying yourself.”
“Yeah, for the first five minutes.” Babe let his head fall back against the tree trunk. “Goddammit.”
“We could just go back”, Eugene suggested. “Help my Ma with dinner.”
But Babe shook his head and clenched his fist. “We are not returning without that chicken. This is personal now.”
Eugene laughed at the determined look on his face.
“Does this chicken have a name?” Babe asked a minute later, after he had shredded an oak leaf into tiny pieces.
Eugene shook his head. “Nah. No one ever bothered. I can’t tell them apart anyway.”
Babe pulled at another leaf he had picked up. “I feel like this one should have a name. Something mean, like, I don’t know, the devil chicken.”
“You’re not naming our chickens”, Eugene declared firmly.
Babe pulled a face and threw the leaf away. “Not even if I catch it?”
Eugene sighed. “Fine. You can name this one. If you catch it.”
“But first, I need a break”, Babe says, leaning back and folding his arms underneath his head. “Or I’m gonna have a heart attack. Could you save me if I had a heart attack?”
“You’d need a surgeon for that.”
“Huh.”
The next time it was Eugene who broke the silence. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
Babe opened his eyes that had begun to drift shut. “About what?” When Eugene didn’t answer immediately, he turned to look at him. Eugene was chewing his lips, looking thoughtful.
“There’s a bit of property for sale now at the edge of town”, he began slowly. “It’s pretty far out and the house is falling apart. It belonged to an old lady who died a few months back. Nobody wants it.”
Babe sat up properly. “You thinking about buying that?”
Eugene hummed. “It’s a piece of work, but it’s cheap.”
Babe was silent for a moment, casting his gaze down. Then he said: “I guess I should go home soon, or my mother is going to send angry postcards after me.”
“You mean letters”, Eugene said.
Babe shook his head. “Nah, postcards, so everybody can read how mad she is at me for just disappearing.” At Eugene’s look he added: “I left a note!”
“Do you want to go home?” The question hung between them for a moment.
“Not really”, Babe said. “I like it here. When I’m not dying of heat stroke.”
Eugene moved a hand through his hair in that way he did when he was nervous. “So… move in with me.”
“I am living with you”, Babe pointed out.
Eugene gave him a look.
“Oh”, Babe said. “You mean -“
“We’d have to put a lot of hours in to even make it livable again”, Eugene said quickly.
“You mean instead of the hours we put into your Ma’s house now?” Babe quipped.
“It’s pretty far out”, Eugene continued.
Babe smiled. “I’d like that. Some peace and quiet.”
“The garden is a mess.”
By this point Babe’s grin was threating to split his face. “Gene. I think we can handle it.”
“So, you wanna?” Eugene asked tentatively.
“Hell yeah!” And then he hurriedly added: “Under one condition.”
“What?” Eugene asked with a somewhat anxious impression on his face.
“No. Chickens.”
Challenge: Der Blick zurück (oder nach vorne)
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Charaktere: Babe Heffron, Eugene Roe, a chicken
Sprache: Englisch
Kommentar: Fortsetzung zu dem hier.
“I hate this chicken. I hope a fox gets it.”
Chicken Hunt
“I hate this chicken”, Babe declared after at least two hours of fruitless search. “I hope a fox gets it.” He stopped in the middle of the road with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
Eugene came to a halt next to him. “You ain’t gonna be that lucky. Not a lot of foxes out here.”
“Then maybe an alligator”, Babe said grimly. He stood up straight again, moving damp strands of reddish hair out of his face with one hand while he cast a look around, but the cursed chicken was nowhere to be seen.
When he squinted up into the clear sky above, he was almost blinded by the sun that was burning down on them with no cloud in sight. There was no shade on the road and the humid air made it hard to breathe. Eugene still looked remarkably composed, but Babe was a mess, with a red face and his shirt soaked through with sweat. He kicked a pebble down the road in frustration. “It’s so goddamn fast! No bird without functional wings has any right to be this fast!”
“Chickens can be pretty fast”, Eugene agreed with him. Then he took Babe by the arm. “Here, sit down before you faint on me.”
“I’m not gonna faint”, Babe protested, but he let himself be pulled into the shade of a big oak tree on the side of the road, where he sank down into the cool grass with a sigh.
Eugene settled down next to him. “You’re at least gonna get sunburnt if you keep running around like this” he said with a look at Babe’s uncovered shoulders that were already starting to redden.
Babe frowned at him. “Well, we can’t all tan like you. Seriously, I never imagined you could be anything other than white as a wall. Besides”, he pointed at his red hair, “I’m handicapped.”
Eugene shook his head, but the corners of his mouths were quirked with amusement. “That’s why I told you to wear a jacket.”
“You want me to get head stroke?” He shifted so he could lean his back against the trunk of the tree. “I still might. I feel like my brain is cooking in my skull.”
“You ain’t got heatstroke. People with heat stroke don’t sweat anymore.” Still Eugene put his finger on Babe’s wrist to feel his pulse for a moment. “Nah, you’re fine.”
“Well, that’s reassuring”, Babe quipped. “But in case I do get it, promise me to save my ass.”
Eugene rolled his eyes at him, but he still said: “Always.”
Babe leaned back so he could look up at the foliage, taking a couple of deep breaths. “I can’t remember when I last walked that much. I feel like I just ran Currahee”, he said.
Eugene chuckled lowly. “You never ran Currahee”, he pointed out.
Babe just shrugged. “Yeah, but I always imagined it like this.”
“At least the chicken doesn’t shout at us and tells us we’re all gonna die”, Eugene said, suddenly a lot more serious.
Babe threw him a glance. “Well, we didn’t, did we?”
“No”, Eugene said slowly. “I suppose we didn’t.”
Silence settled between them for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence. There was no breeze to rustle the leaves, the air was heavy and still, but somewhere farther away the sound of a stray cicada could be heard.
Eugene leaned closer so that their shoulders were touching. “You know, it’ll probably be back for feeding time.”
Babe turned towards him. “You’re telling me this now?” he said incredulously.
Eugene shrugged. “You looked like you were kinda enjoying yourself.”
“Yeah, for the first five minutes.” Babe let his head fall back against the tree trunk. “Goddammit.”
“We could just go back”, Eugene suggested. “Help my Ma with dinner.”
But Babe shook his head and clenched his fist. “We are not returning without that chicken. This is personal now.”
Eugene laughed at the determined look on his face.
“Does this chicken have a name?” Babe asked a minute later, after he had shredded an oak leaf into tiny pieces.
Eugene shook his head. “Nah. No one ever bothered. I can’t tell them apart anyway.”
Babe pulled at another leaf he had picked up. “I feel like this one should have a name. Something mean, like, I don’t know, the devil chicken.”
“You’re not naming our chickens”, Eugene declared firmly.
Babe pulled a face and threw the leaf away. “Not even if I catch it?”
Eugene sighed. “Fine. You can name this one. If you catch it.”
“But first, I need a break”, Babe says, leaning back and folding his arms underneath his head. “Or I’m gonna have a heart attack. Could you save me if I had a heart attack?”
“You’d need a surgeon for that.”
“Huh.”
The next time it was Eugene who broke the silence. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
Babe opened his eyes that had begun to drift shut. “About what?” When Eugene didn’t answer immediately, he turned to look at him. Eugene was chewing his lips, looking thoughtful.
“There’s a bit of property for sale now at the edge of town”, he began slowly. “It’s pretty far out and the house is falling apart. It belonged to an old lady who died a few months back. Nobody wants it.”
Babe sat up properly. “You thinking about buying that?”
Eugene hummed. “It’s a piece of work, but it’s cheap.”
Babe was silent for a moment, casting his gaze down. Then he said: “I guess I should go home soon, or my mother is going to send angry postcards after me.”
“You mean letters”, Eugene said.
Babe shook his head. “Nah, postcards, so everybody can read how mad she is at me for just disappearing.” At Eugene’s look he added: “I left a note!”
“Do you want to go home?” The question hung between them for a moment.
“Not really”, Babe said. “I like it here. When I’m not dying of heat stroke.”
Eugene moved a hand through his hair in that way he did when he was nervous. “So… move in with me.”
“I am living with you”, Babe pointed out.
Eugene gave him a look.
“Oh”, Babe said. “You mean -“
“We’d have to put a lot of hours in to even make it livable again”, Eugene said quickly.
“You mean instead of the hours we put into your Ma’s house now?” Babe quipped.
“It’s pretty far out”, Eugene continued.
Babe smiled. “I’d like that. Some peace and quiet.”
“The garden is a mess.”
By this point Babe’s grin was threating to split his face. “Gene. I think we can handle it.”
“So, you wanna?” Eugene asked tentatively.
“Hell yeah!” And then he hurriedly added: “Under one condition.”
“What?” Eugene asked with a somewhat anxious impression on his face.
“No. Chickens.”