The Joy of Pets
Summary: Spirits are high as the twins take to their roles as the proud owners of a pet chicken. Tiki is not so pleased.
Prompt: 002. Bounce
Disclaimer: The D.Gray-man series and characters do not belong to me.
Jasdero was building a chicken coop at five in the morning.
The Earl had squeezed himself into the small room where Jasdero was hammering away. “Jasdero, you cannot keep your pet in the house,” he chastised his ward.
“Jasdero will take good care of it and clean up after it every day,” said Jasdero, lining up a nail on a thin board. Piles of wire mesh covered the floor around him and the Earl. Boards were propped up in the corner. In front of Jasdero, half of a lopsided frame was taking shape next to the window that looked out on the Japanese garden.
“Not in the house, however. It is not hygienic.”
Jasdero turned wide accusing eyes on the Earl. “You keep Tiki in the house all the time, and he’s dirty,” he complained. He pounded at the nail, the sounds echoing through the small room like shots.
The Earl was about to explain the difference between Tiki and a chicken when Tiki himself staggered in through the doorway. He had dark circles under his eyes, and there was a muddy stain down the side of his rumpled clothes. He shielded his eyes against the dawn. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Building a chicken coop,” said Jasdero happily.
“Okay, why are you doing it now?”
“Jasdero needed it now,” said Jasdero.
“And you needed to build it right down the hall from my room, I see.”
“Now, now, children.” The Earl looked at Tiki, then shook his head. “What have you been doing?”
“I got drunk and fell in a ditch.”
Over his fluffy jacket collar, Jasdero shot the Earl a very meaningful look.
The Earl sighed. “Very well, you may keep your pet in here. But you mustn’t let it wander through the house.” He waddled out past Tiki, who had to wade into a pile of wire mesh to avoid him.
Humming loudly, Jasdero resumed hammering. Tiki winced. “Forget I even tried.” Muttering Portuguese curses, he shuffled off with a hand to his skull. Jasdero reached down and pulled a sheet of wire mesh into place.
The sound of Jasdero’s hammering could just be heard from the living room, where Devit was seated on the floor reading Chicken Raising for Complete Morons. The noise perturbed him not at all, but he was frowning at the page. The book had a vocabulary level not suggested by its title.
It wasn’t helping that Rhode was helping. She had her hands on his shoulders and kept twisting her head to catch sight of the pages even though Devit tried to block her view with his head.
“Do you know what ‘avian’ means?” she asked.
“I know what ‘avian’ means,” said Devit.
“Do you know what ‘aperture’ means?”
“I know what ‘aperture’ means.”
“Do you know what ‘polyflourocarbons’ means?”
“I know what ‘polyflourocarbons’ means.”
“No you don’t.”
“Shut the fuck up.” The book wasn’t Devit’s problem, Rhode was. “I’m trying to learn about chickens here.”
“And I’m trying to help,” said Rhode happily.
“All of your pets died under mysterious circumstances,” said Devit.
The twins had decided with their usual level of rationality that the only logical thing to do after repeated failures to catch General Cross was to take one of his chickens home. They seemed to have made friends with it. Now the entire household had been drawn into the excitement of a new pet, or, in Tiki’s case, the joy of waking up with a hangover to hammering at five in the morning.
“But nothing mysterious had better happen to our chicken,” continued Devit. “This is going to be the happiest fucking chicken in the entire country.” He hunched over his book, determinedly reading on while Rhode, playful, put her weight on his shoulders.
Tiki got back up at the more reasonable hour of noon, when the sun was glaring bright and he hadn’t gotten much more sleep than at five, although the hammering had stopped at the point when Jasdero wanted breakfast. Tiki made sure to change into cleaner clothes before stomping the short distance to the chicken’s room. Jasdero, looking ecstatic, was sitting amid piles of wire mesh with the chicken sitting calmly on his lap. Devit was close by, sitting against the wall, and he and his twin had their guns fixed on each other. Rhode was perched on top of a pile of boards, a dictionary in hand. The chicken coop was unfinished, which meant that there was more of that damn hammering to look forward to.
“I know what we’re having for dinner,” announced Tiki. “It’s chicken breast.”
“Heeee! Is not!” wailed Jasdero angrily, putting an arm in front of the chicken protectively. Tiki faced the glares of Jasdevi and Rhode.
“Don’t be so negative, Tiki. It’s fun to have a pet,” said Rhode.
“You kill the chicken, you die,” threatened Devit.
Not bothering to reply, Tiki removed a cigarette from his pocket and was about to light it when Devit yelled, “Whoa, stop that!”
Tiki paused with lighter halfway to the cigarette in his mouth. “You aren’t gonna try to make me quit again, are you? Stressful times like these are just when I need a smoke,” he added in a mutter.
Devit waved his gun in the air. “Smoking is very bad for chickens. Chickens need a healthy environment to thrive.” (Jasdero nodded in agreement.)
“So now you’re more worried about the chicken’s health than mine?” asked Tiki, meeting Devit’s eyes with very hungover look.
Devit shrugged. “Chickens are very delicate. Unlike you.”
“Especially after you simmer them in a light sauce…” Tiki muttered under his breath. He put the cigarette back in his pocket, hoping that would make Devit shut up.
“What did you say?” snapped Devit suspiciously.
“Why do you know so much about chickens all of a sudden?” asked Tiki.
Devit pointed at a book in the corner. It was two inches thick and had a picture of a chicken on the cover.
“Ah,” said Tiki.
“Devit’s learned more this morning than he ever has in his life,” announced Rhode, looking at Devit fondly. “Unfortunately, it’s all about chickens.” Devit looked back at her in annoyance.
“Devit read nearly all of chapter one!” exclaimed Jasdero.
“Congratulations,” said Tiki with as much sarcasm as he could muster after a night of heavy drinking. Devit turned his annoyed look on Tiki.
“C’mon Jasdero, let’s fix up this chicken coop,” he said, and stood. Jasdero set the chicken aside before standing. He examined one of the coop’s top boards for a moment, then picked up a hammer. The chicken woke up and clucked. It began pecking at bare floor between sheets of wire mesh.
Tiki took out his cigarette again. He was going to need it.
Tiki took a long drag on said cigarette in the library, which was far enough away from the construction work that the noise barely echoed through his skull. Tiki perused a bookshelf with a hand to his chin. The library in the Edo mansion was expansive, and mostly in European languages. However, many of the books were old, their spines faded and unmarked. Tiki pulled out a tattered green volume. He flipped through it. It appeared to be about Welsh poetry, so he put it back and moved down to another shelf.
Skinn walked into the library. “Have you seen Jasdevi’s chicken?”
Tiki turned and leaned against the bookshelf. “Yes, and I’ve listened to Jasdero building its home all morning.”
“Hm. It looks like he’ll be done soon.”
“Are you defending the chicken?”
The other man smiled. “It will make an interesting pet. Also, you’ve forgotten that the more time Jasdevi spend with it, the less time they can spend annoying us.”
Tiki wanted to point out that Skinn’s room was all the way on the other side of the house, and the twins didn’t go out of the way to annoy him like they so enjoyed doing with Tiki. But Skinn was clearly on the chicken’s side, so he only said, “They’ll probably get tired of it soon anyway.” Just not soon enough, he thought. The way he saw it, twins were more annoying with their chicken than without it.
Skinn shrugged at this. “Well, I’ve agreed to buy chicken feed…” he said, and left.
Tiki resumed his search. He had examined a shelf of romance novels, which the twins had defaced with marker, and a shelf of German philosophers, which had given a headache, when Devit strode through the door. He had his gun in his hand and his book under his arm. He stopped when he saw Tiki. “What are you doing here, Tiki?”
Tiki put his stub of cigarette out in an ashtray on a nearby end table flanked by armchairs. “Looking for a book, of course.”
“I didn’t know you could read,” said Devit, giving him a wide grin.
“And I never imagined you’d be walking around with a chicken manual under your arm. You come for more bird books?”
“Nah, Rhode was trying to teach me words.” Devit glanced apprehensively at the doorway, then hid himself behind an armchair.
Tiki could sympathize with that. “I’ll pretend you aren’t here.” Which in every other situation annoys the hell out of you.
Devit made no reply and flipped open Chicken Raising for Complete Morons to Chapter 2: Poultry Throughout History. Tiki returned his attention to the bookshelf.
Rhode entered the library with a dictionary open in her hands. “Environs (noun)-surroundings, vicinity-” she recited. Behind his armchair, Devit hunched farther over. However, as Rhode continued her recitation, he jumped up and hurled the ashtray at her, ashes scattering on the thick carpet. “Found you,” said Rhode.
“Will you shut up? I’m trying to read here,” said Devit.
“And I know that’s hard for you,” said Rhode sympathetically. Reaching for another book, Tiki snorted.
Jasdero walked in behind Rhode with the chicken tucked under his arm. “Jasdero needs help making the chicken coop fit nice,” he said.
“I’ll come help if Rhode stops reading out of that damn dictionary the whole time,” said Devit, snapping his book shut.
“I just want to help,” said Rhode.
“Then help Jasdero!” said the blond twin.
“Jasdero, you should be careful about bringing the chicken into the library. You know the Earl doesn’t want it in the house proper,” said Rhode.
“Hee! Our pet’s very well-behaved,” said Jasdero.
The chicken was indeed behaving-it was surprisingly calm, allowing him to hold it under his arm. Jasdero was holding it with care, not inadvertently squeezing it half to death like one might expect, but still. “Don’t chickens usually scratch and peck if you try to touch them?” asked Tiki. He surreptitiously replaced a book of pastry recipes.
“The chicken is Jasdero’s friend,” explained Jasdero.
“Congratulations,” said Tiki. So Jasdero had some sort of affinity with chickens. He would never have guessed.
“Heehee! Thanks!”
Devit shot Tiki a particularly virulent glare and said, “Let’s go finish that chicken coop.”
“I’ll help!” said Rhode, jumping up and down. She dropped the dictionary onto the library rug. “We haven’t had a pet in forever.”
Rhode, Jasdero, Devit, and one chicken left the room, the first three chattering to each other about how exciting it was to have the latter. Tiki opened up the cookbook he’d pulled from the shelf to the chicken recipes.
That evening, Tiki dared to walk down the hall which led to his room. The chicken coop construction was mostly finished, and relative silence had descended except for how the three children had spent the afternoon running around shrieking and knocking into things. Tiki had tried to stay in the library, smoking and playing cards. However, there were steady interruptions. Rhode had tugged at Tiki’s arm and cajoled for him to come see whatever the chicken was doing, which could not possibly justify her level of excitement. Jasdero had run into the library, rambled on about the steps needed to construct a chicken coop, as if Tiki would ever build one, then threatened to shoot him before leaving abruptly. Devit had come to lecture him about the dangers of smoking near birds and to share more facts about chickens than Tiki had ever known existed. Finally, Skinn had stopped by to ask why Tiki was sulking, which should have been obvious-not that he was sulking. This convinced Tiki to leave the library.
In the hall, Jasdero was examining two blocky parcels wrapped in plastic. Skinn had dropped off chicken feed and sawdust by the door to the chicken’s room. Jasdero looked like he’d just received the best birthday presents ever. Rhode was next to him, trying to push the sawdust blocks into the room, but her slight weight had no effect.
“Help us move this, Tiki,” she called happily.
“Jasdero will do it,” said Jasdero, heaving one of the blocks towards the door. Tiki ignored them both as he passed.
Tiki brushed chicken down off the family room couch and sat next to Devit, who was curled up on the couch with his feet on the cushions. He was as intent on his chicken guide as if it contained the secret of eternal life, and didn’t notice that the book Tiki opened was a cookbook.
Without looking up, Devit asked, “Did you know that the chicken originated in Southeast Asia as a bird domesticated for food purposes?”
“Did you know that if you don’t shut up about the damn chickens, I’m going to rip your kidney out through your nose?” asked Tiki.
Devit stared at him, then smirked. “Does it bother you that we pay more attention to the chicken than you?”
Tiki snapped the cookbook shut. “I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re trying to say. You’re just annoying.” More annoying than usual, he thought. “I’m going to bed.”
Jasdero, Devit, and Rhode woke up at five the next morning. Tiki could hear them dashing about, banging through the halls. He held his pillow to his head. Pet chickens did not inspire him to wake up early, although apparently certain other people were so inspired.
When the noise did not abate, Tiki shambled to the door, stuck his head out, and yelled “Why don’t you take the chicken on a walk!?” Where it might escape and/or be hit by a cart. Tiki slammed the door, but even with the pillow back over his head he could hear the other three arguing over his proposal. It sounded like Jasdero was in favor of it, while Rhode and Devit were arguing against it-unfortunately, Rhode and Devit won out.
Tiki tried to think of a place in the Edo mansion where he could sleep until noon without hearing a chicken-induced racket. He settled on one of the smaller storerooms. Tiki made sure his door was locked, then slipped through the wall so Rhode and the twins wouldn’t notice him leaving.
Dust coated the storeroom floor. In between a shelf of paper-wrapped cutlery and a shelf stacked with dishes, Tiki had pleasant half-awake dreams of chicken soup.
Jasdero finished spreading fresh sawdust inside the chicken coop, where the hen was pecking after bits of its feed. He sat between Rhode and his twin, who were sitting by the door. He put his gun to Devit’s head. Devit was absorbed in his book, absently flipping his pistol around in one hand. Particles from the sawdust drifted through the room.
Rhode coughed and said, “You know, you should really name the chicken.”
“Jasdero was just calling it Chicken,” said Jasdero. Devit looked up from his book.
“Jasdero, that’s a stupid name for a chicken,” said Rhode.
The blond twin responded with an indignant cry, and Devit said to Rhode, “Yeah, and how many times have you named a pet chicken?”
“I was thinking of naming it Allen,” said Rhode. Jasdero stifled a laugh, and Devit snorted. “I’m sorry, that’s an even worse name than Chicken.”
“I happen to like that name.”
“Jasdero doesn’t,” said Jasdero, making a face. Besides, if Rhode was in the habit of stabbing Allen, which the twins were in favor of, what if she decided to stab the chicken? This they were not in favor of.
“Look, it’s not like we care, but what kind of guy likes a girl who names a chicken after him?” said Devit. “Think it over.”
Rhode brooded over his rhetorical question for awhile. Devit interrupted her when he said, “I think it should have a cooler name.”
“Like what?” asked Rhode, with a look that dared him to come up with a better name than “Allen.”
“I don’t know, Incarnation of Death or something.”
Rhode wouldn’t stop laughing for an entire minute. Devit turned red and muttered something about nobody appreciating a sense of imagination. Jasdero paid them no mind. He stared with an unhappy expression at the chicken flapping flightlessly about its cage. “Tiki probably wants to call it Dinner,” he said sadly.
“All our names suck,” said Devit.
“Does it need a name?” asked Jasdero. “Hee! But Jasdero will try to think up a good one.”
Just then, Tiki came through the wall, first his arms and head, then one knee, and the rest of his body. He was holding a cleaver wrapped in paper. The twins looked up in alarm. Jasdero’s pistol was raised in an instant, and he shot at the wall beside Tiki, leaving a bullet hole. The hen squawked and went careening around its coop in a panic, down flying.
“Calm down,” said Tiki. He raised his hands placatingly, which was somewhat offset by how he was holding a cleaver in one of them. “Look, if I was going to murder your chicken, I would have unwrapped this first.”
The twins glared. “Like you expect us to notice that in the heat of the moment?” asked Devit.
“What’s for dinner?” asked Jasdero suspiciously. He got to his feet and stood by the chicken coop and patted the wire, having a one-sided conversation in which he told the chicken it was okay.
“Vegetables,” said Tiki with a vague expression.
“I wanted Exorcists,” sulked Rhode.
“Time to find your Allen guy,” said Devit, the side of his mouth quirked in a grin. “As long as it’s not the chicken. So what are you here for, Tiki? We couldn’t find you earlier.”
Tiki shrugged. “I just wanted to…oh yeah, and I wanted to ask Rhode-aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“I have the flu this week.” Rhode clasped her hands around her knees and looked smug.
“I’ve never seen anyone with the flu looking so healthy. Or so full of energy. I had to listen to you bouncing off the walls all morning, you know.” Tiki reached into his pocket for a cigarette, then checked himself. “You aren’t skipping school for the chicken, are you?”
Rhode lectured him, “Tiki, this is a very important period of time in which the Exorcists are more threatening than ever before, yet also more vulnerable. I think I’m justified in lying about my health.” She reflected on this for a moment, her head to the side. “But it also happens to be the period of time in which Jasdevi here brought back a pet chicken.”
Tiki was unconvinced. “And you’ve been devoting all your time to the chicken,” he pointed out.
“Tiki, it’s fun,” she said. He looked at her with an expression of disbelief, unconvinced.
“It is!!” said Jasdero. The chicken was calmer, sitting in a corner on a pile of hay. Jasdero returned to his place between Rhode and Devit, putting his hands palm down on the floor and staring happily up at nothing.
Devit squinted at Tiki’s rumpled clothes. “Why have you been rolling in dust?”
“It’s one of my many hobbies. Now if you’ll excuse me-” Tiki left through the wall, seeing as Jasdero was blocking the doorway.
Rhode shook her head. “For someone who knows how to have fun, he can be quite the spoilsport. That makes him more fun to tease, though.”
“But he’s after Jasdevi’s chicken now,” said Jasdero. “He wants to kill it.”
“Yeah, I call him coming in here with a cleaver pretty suspicious,” said Devit. “That bastard.”
“He does like to tease us back,” Rhode reminded them. She watched the chicken preen itself and smiled.
“And he left before I could tell him that unborn chicks have something called an egg tooth, which they use to peck their way out of the egg.”
“That’s very interesting,” said Rhode in a very bored voice. “By the way, I want you to help me with my Biology assignment.”
“Whaaat!?” complained Jasdero.
“No,” said Devit.
“I have to write a report on the characteristics of an animal species. Also, I have to observe it for several hours and write up my findings.”
Jasdero sat up on his heels, interested. Devit asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yes, I am asking you to write a report about chickens,” said Rhode. Ordinarily, asking the twins to help with homework was like asking a man with no thumbs to knit you a hat. However, for the first time ever Rhode trusted their ability to complete her homework.
“We’ll do it!” said Devit, Jasdero echoing him. Rhode had asked them to do her homework before, of course, when she was feeling mischievous. Ordinarily, extreme bribes or threats were required.
“I’m counting on you,” Rhode told them.
As Tiki passed the library door, he was shocked to see Devit holding a pen and scribbling on a sheaf of papers. First the thick book, now Rhode’s homework? He stopped and stared. It was too much.
Devit looked up. He was curled up in an armchair, and his pistol and book were on the table beside him, loose paper sheets scattered at his feet. “Excuse me? I’m trying to write a report here.”
“Um,” said Tiki. He felt a little inadequate now that Devit had the mysterious ability to do Rhode’s homework properly, an ability Tiki still lacked. On the plus side, Devit is now channeling his extensive knowledge of chickens into Rhode’s report instead of my ear. Tiki hurried away, Devit calling indistinct sarcastic comments after him as he left.
Tiki made his way into the hallway on the east wing. Maybe he’d wring the chicken’s neck today, just to get it over with.
However, Jasdero was by the chicken coop, peering into the cage. He was penning notes in blocky handwriting and muttering to himself, or possibly the chicken. Sensing Tiki’s presence in the doorway, he said, “Won’t let Tiki kill it.”
“I see,” said Tiki in his best surprised voice. “So, what are you doing?”
“Watching the chicken for Rhode,” said Jasdero. “Protecting chicken from Tiki.” The chicken squawked. Jasdero tilted his head quizzically at it, blond hair falling over his jacket, and wrote something down. Tiki stood in the doorway for awhile, but Jasdero showed no sign of boredom. In a way this was good for Tiki, because it meant Jasdero’s unstable mind was concentrated on something besides running around with Devit being annoying.
Tiki went on to spend a relaxing afternoon playing cards with himself, taking a bath, and eating expensive foods on little skewers while lying on the bed in his boxers.
That night he set the cookbook aside. He might need it next week, but not right now.
For several more days, Jasdero continued his observation of the chicken. He sat by the chicken coop for hours, and once a day took it out into the garden to let it run free for the afternoon. Devit would sit outside taking untidy notes from thick books, complaining aloud but not giving up.
Rhode took the opportunity to monopolize annoying Tiki. “Come playyyyy,” she begged, tugging on his arm. He was sitting in an armchair in the library, which had blissfully peaceful until Rhode had showed up, reading a newspaper and smoking. He ignored her. At least a chicken wasn’t involved.
“Come play dolls,” demanded Rhode. “You have to entertain me while Jasdevi are finishing my report.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? And shouldn’t you be out hunting Exorcists?” Tiki had gone out the other day, finding no Exorcists but at least causing havoc among civilians in a city somewhere.
“But I have to fix Devit’s spelling and write out Jasdero’s notes and turn in my report this afternoon!” complained Rhode.
Devit and Jasdero strode through the library door, Devit with books and a stack of papers in his arms, Jasdero with a chicken. “Truly a hard life,” said Devit sarcastically. He dumped the books and paper in the middle of the floor. Jasdero’s notes slid off the top. “We’re done.”
“Oh good,” said Rhode, clapping her hands together. “I’m ever so grateful.”
“But it sounds like you have something against my spelling.” Devit scowled.
“While I admit that your knowledge of the subject surpasses mine, I will have to revise the report so it looks like it was written by a smart person,” said Rhode.
“Rhode, I am going to fucking kill you.” He pulled his pistol from the pocket as he spun to exit the room, his coat flying.
Jasdero took a moment to follow. “Hee!” he said. “While Jasdero was observing for Rhode, he was thinking of a good name for our chicken too. Jasdero thinks-”
Tiki looked up from his newspaper. It was starting again. “This is a library. Could you speak more quietly?” He mentally reviewed a list of chicken recipes.
Jasdero bit off what he was saying to glare at Tiki. “C’mon, Jasdero,” said Devit, motioning to his twin with his pistol. “Rhode, you know, we’d better get something good for this, because that was eight fucking pages long.”
“Bye-bye,” said Rhode. She waved at Devit and Jasdero, the chicken cradled in his arms.
Tiki awoke to a loud banging sound the next morning. He opened his eyes a crack. It was the dark of early morning. Squinting at the clock, he made out that it was four. Tiki fished his cookbook from behind the dresser and tossed it on his bed. He grabbed the cleaver-which he’d been keeping on hand, just in case-tore off the paper wrapping, and stormed down the hall to cut off the chicken’s head. Or possibly stab Jasdero; Tiki was flexible. Either way he’d put a stop to the manic energy that had Rhode and Jasdevi being so obnoxious.
The Earl had gotten to the chicken’s room first. He was facing Jasdero, who was standing there with a hammer in his hand. There was a hole big enough for Rhode to crawl through at the base of the wall by the chicken cool. Cold morning air flowed inside. Despite the chilly breeze, the room still smelled strongly of sawdust.
The chicken was on the other side of Jasdero, looking like an innocent bird instead of Tiki’s sworn enemy. It was watching the Earl with an inscrutable beady eye.
“Jasdero, what are you doing?” asked the Earl with such aggrieved patience that even Jasdero should be able to make it out.
“Building a chicken door,” said Jasdero.
“Why have you knocked a hole in the wall?” asked the Earl. Tiki eyed the chicken, but he was willing to postpone its death to watch the Earl dealing with Jasdero. He edged into the corner by the door and hid the cleaver behind his back, not wanting to interfere.
“Because Dero’s building a chicken door,” said Jasdero.
Devit ran in, followed by Rhode in her nightgown. “Jasdero, why’d the hammering…oh, hi, Millennium Earl.” Devit laughed nervously.
“Good morning, children,” the Earl told the new arrivals. He returned his wrathful attention to Jasdero. “Jasdero, I have allowed your pet in our house, but I will not tolerate your damaging the house itself.”
Devit shoved Tiki aside so he could stand in the corner of the crowded room. He was too focused on his twin’s plight to notice Tiki’s knife. Rhode joined them, thumbing sleepily through a dictionary.
“Jasdero…you’re grounded.”
Jasdero burst into loud tears. Devit stepped over to face the Earl by his side. “What!? That’s not fair!”
“Why ever not?” asked the Earl.
“Err…”
Tiki put in, “You brought it on yourself.” Devit was looking pleadingly at the Earl, Rhode at her dictionary. Tiki took a step towards the chicken, sensing an opportunity nearing.
Jasdero let the Earl grab his collar and drag him towards the door. He sniffled. To the chicken, he gave a cheerful smile through his tears. “Hee! It’s okay, Jasdero doesn’t care as long as the chicken is sa-aaaaAAAaaugh!?” Noticing Tiki with his hand outstretched and the cleaver raised, he gave an outraged shriek. However, the Earl kept dragging him steadily away, ignoring him even when he yelled, “But Tiki’s trying to kill it!!”
“Tiki!” said Rhode, looking up.
Devit lunged for Tiki, but Tiki held off him with one hand. Devit struggled to free himself from Tiki’s grip on his upper arm and kicked at the chicken, which flapped into the corner in a frenzy of shed feathers.
Jasdero caught at the doorframe, holding onto it with his not inconsiderable strength. “You can’t!” he wailed. “Besides-Jasdero decided to name it Tiki!”
Tiki stopped his advance towards the chicken. Which was also Tiki. How immature, he thought.
“Because Tiki can’t kill Tiki!” yelled Jasdero.
“That’s a real good name,” Devit yelled back, trying to tug himself away from Tiki. Watching with narrowed eyes from the corner, Rhode nodded in agreement. Tiki released Devit and handed over the cleaver hilt first. Devit took it reflexively and blinked at it in surprise.
Tiki met the eyes of Jasdero, who had reached an impasse with the Earl and was clinging grimly to the doorframe with trembling black-nailed fingers. “That’s a beautiful name,” he said.
Jasdero beamed at him. He lost his grip, tearing part of the doorframe off of the wall as he went.
Tiki looked at the still-panicked chicken running in circles, at Devit with the cleaver, and at Rhode with her dictionary. “I’m going to go get drunk,” he said, and left the mansion for the dawning day.
Devit and Rhode watched Tiki leave the room with the chicken coop. The hen squawked and pecked at Devit as he tried to guide it back into the chicken coop, but soon found its own way back inside. There was wire mesh in front of the hole leading outside, so it couldn’t escape. Devit shut the chicken coop door.
“Let me share the meaning of the word ‘inebriated’ with you, Devit,” said Rhode.
“I’m probably grounded too,” said Devit. “Jasdero!!” He ran down the hall after his twin.
“Why can’t we all get along?” Rhode complained as she wandered after Devit, bored. When the twins were grounded and Tiki and the Earl away, she’d have nowhere to direct her energy.
In its coop, Tiki was a happy chicken. Skinn remembered to feed it. Rhode only watched it. In an enforced confinement in the basement, which they usually found miserable, Jasdero and Devit distracted themselves plotting pleasant chicken-raising schemes instead of untimely death. Tiki Mick could not, in fact, kill anything also named Tiki. And the Noah family did not have chicken dinners for a very long time after that.
The human Tiki was not quite as happy. Still, he had to admit the omelets were good.
Prompt: 002. Bounce
Disclaimer: The D.Gray-man series and characters do not belong to me.
Jasdero was building a chicken coop at five in the morning.
The Earl had squeezed himself into the small room where Jasdero was hammering away. “Jasdero, you cannot keep your pet in the house,” he chastised his ward.
“Jasdero will take good care of it and clean up after it every day,” said Jasdero, lining up a nail on a thin board. Piles of wire mesh covered the floor around him and the Earl. Boards were propped up in the corner. In front of Jasdero, half of a lopsided frame was taking shape next to the window that looked out on the Japanese garden.
“Not in the house, however. It is not hygienic.”
Jasdero turned wide accusing eyes on the Earl. “You keep Tiki in the house all the time, and he’s dirty,” he complained. He pounded at the nail, the sounds echoing through the small room like shots.
The Earl was about to explain the difference between Tiki and a chicken when Tiki himself staggered in through the doorway. He had dark circles under his eyes, and there was a muddy stain down the side of his rumpled clothes. He shielded his eyes against the dawn. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Building a chicken coop,” said Jasdero happily.
“Okay, why are you doing it now?”
“Jasdero needed it now,” said Jasdero.
“And you needed to build it right down the hall from my room, I see.”
“Now, now, children.” The Earl looked at Tiki, then shook his head. “What have you been doing?”
“I got drunk and fell in a ditch.”
Over his fluffy jacket collar, Jasdero shot the Earl a very meaningful look.
The Earl sighed. “Very well, you may keep your pet in here. But you mustn’t let it wander through the house.” He waddled out past Tiki, who had to wade into a pile of wire mesh to avoid him.
Humming loudly, Jasdero resumed hammering. Tiki winced. “Forget I even tried.” Muttering Portuguese curses, he shuffled off with a hand to his skull. Jasdero reached down and pulled a sheet of wire mesh into place.
The sound of Jasdero’s hammering could just be heard from the living room, where Devit was seated on the floor reading Chicken Raising for Complete Morons. The noise perturbed him not at all, but he was frowning at the page. The book had a vocabulary level not suggested by its title.
It wasn’t helping that Rhode was helping. She had her hands on his shoulders and kept twisting her head to catch sight of the pages even though Devit tried to block her view with his head.
“Do you know what ‘avian’ means?” she asked.
“I know what ‘avian’ means,” said Devit.
“Do you know what ‘aperture’ means?”
“I know what ‘aperture’ means.”
“Do you know what ‘polyflourocarbons’ means?”
“I know what ‘polyflourocarbons’ means.”
“No you don’t.”
“Shut the fuck up.” The book wasn’t Devit’s problem, Rhode was. “I’m trying to learn about chickens here.”
“And I’m trying to help,” said Rhode happily.
“All of your pets died under mysterious circumstances,” said Devit.
The twins had decided with their usual level of rationality that the only logical thing to do after repeated failures to catch General Cross was to take one of his chickens home. They seemed to have made friends with it. Now the entire household had been drawn into the excitement of a new pet, or, in Tiki’s case, the joy of waking up with a hangover to hammering at five in the morning.
“But nothing mysterious had better happen to our chicken,” continued Devit. “This is going to be the happiest fucking chicken in the entire country.” He hunched over his book, determinedly reading on while Rhode, playful, put her weight on his shoulders.
Tiki got back up at the more reasonable hour of noon, when the sun was glaring bright and he hadn’t gotten much more sleep than at five, although the hammering had stopped at the point when Jasdero wanted breakfast. Tiki made sure to change into cleaner clothes before stomping the short distance to the chicken’s room. Jasdero, looking ecstatic, was sitting amid piles of wire mesh with the chicken sitting calmly on his lap. Devit was close by, sitting against the wall, and he and his twin had their guns fixed on each other. Rhode was perched on top of a pile of boards, a dictionary in hand. The chicken coop was unfinished, which meant that there was more of that damn hammering to look forward to.
“I know what we’re having for dinner,” announced Tiki. “It’s chicken breast.”
“Heeee! Is not!” wailed Jasdero angrily, putting an arm in front of the chicken protectively. Tiki faced the glares of Jasdevi and Rhode.
“Don’t be so negative, Tiki. It’s fun to have a pet,” said Rhode.
“You kill the chicken, you die,” threatened Devit.
Not bothering to reply, Tiki removed a cigarette from his pocket and was about to light it when Devit yelled, “Whoa, stop that!”
Tiki paused with lighter halfway to the cigarette in his mouth. “You aren’t gonna try to make me quit again, are you? Stressful times like these are just when I need a smoke,” he added in a mutter.
Devit waved his gun in the air. “Smoking is very bad for chickens. Chickens need a healthy environment to thrive.” (Jasdero nodded in agreement.)
“So now you’re more worried about the chicken’s health than mine?” asked Tiki, meeting Devit’s eyes with very hungover look.
Devit shrugged. “Chickens are very delicate. Unlike you.”
“Especially after you simmer them in a light sauce…” Tiki muttered under his breath. He put the cigarette back in his pocket, hoping that would make Devit shut up.
“What did you say?” snapped Devit suspiciously.
“Why do you know so much about chickens all of a sudden?” asked Tiki.
Devit pointed at a book in the corner. It was two inches thick and had a picture of a chicken on the cover.
“Ah,” said Tiki.
“Devit’s learned more this morning than he ever has in his life,” announced Rhode, looking at Devit fondly. “Unfortunately, it’s all about chickens.” Devit looked back at her in annoyance.
“Devit read nearly all of chapter one!” exclaimed Jasdero.
“Congratulations,” said Tiki with as much sarcasm as he could muster after a night of heavy drinking. Devit turned his annoyed look on Tiki.
“C’mon Jasdero, let’s fix up this chicken coop,” he said, and stood. Jasdero set the chicken aside before standing. He examined one of the coop’s top boards for a moment, then picked up a hammer. The chicken woke up and clucked. It began pecking at bare floor between sheets of wire mesh.
Tiki took out his cigarette again. He was going to need it.
Tiki took a long drag on said cigarette in the library, which was far enough away from the construction work that the noise barely echoed through his skull. Tiki perused a bookshelf with a hand to his chin. The library in the Edo mansion was expansive, and mostly in European languages. However, many of the books were old, their spines faded and unmarked. Tiki pulled out a tattered green volume. He flipped through it. It appeared to be about Welsh poetry, so he put it back and moved down to another shelf.
Skinn walked into the library. “Have you seen Jasdevi’s chicken?”
Tiki turned and leaned against the bookshelf. “Yes, and I’ve listened to Jasdero building its home all morning.”
“Hm. It looks like he’ll be done soon.”
“Are you defending the chicken?”
The other man smiled. “It will make an interesting pet. Also, you’ve forgotten that the more time Jasdevi spend with it, the less time they can spend annoying us.”
Tiki wanted to point out that Skinn’s room was all the way on the other side of the house, and the twins didn’t go out of the way to annoy him like they so enjoyed doing with Tiki. But Skinn was clearly on the chicken’s side, so he only said, “They’ll probably get tired of it soon anyway.” Just not soon enough, he thought. The way he saw it, twins were more annoying with their chicken than without it.
Skinn shrugged at this. “Well, I’ve agreed to buy chicken feed…” he said, and left.
Tiki resumed his search. He had examined a shelf of romance novels, which the twins had defaced with marker, and a shelf of German philosophers, which had given a headache, when Devit strode through the door. He had his gun in his hand and his book under his arm. He stopped when he saw Tiki. “What are you doing here, Tiki?”
Tiki put his stub of cigarette out in an ashtray on a nearby end table flanked by armchairs. “Looking for a book, of course.”
“I didn’t know you could read,” said Devit, giving him a wide grin.
“And I never imagined you’d be walking around with a chicken manual under your arm. You come for more bird books?”
“Nah, Rhode was trying to teach me words.” Devit glanced apprehensively at the doorway, then hid himself behind an armchair.
Tiki could sympathize with that. “I’ll pretend you aren’t here.” Which in every other situation annoys the hell out of you.
Devit made no reply and flipped open Chicken Raising for Complete Morons to Chapter 2: Poultry Throughout History. Tiki returned his attention to the bookshelf.
Rhode entered the library with a dictionary open in her hands. “Environs (noun)-surroundings, vicinity-” she recited. Behind his armchair, Devit hunched farther over. However, as Rhode continued her recitation, he jumped up and hurled the ashtray at her, ashes scattering on the thick carpet. “Found you,” said Rhode.
“Will you shut up? I’m trying to read here,” said Devit.
“And I know that’s hard for you,” said Rhode sympathetically. Reaching for another book, Tiki snorted.
Jasdero walked in behind Rhode with the chicken tucked under his arm. “Jasdero needs help making the chicken coop fit nice,” he said.
“I’ll come help if Rhode stops reading out of that damn dictionary the whole time,” said Devit, snapping his book shut.
“I just want to help,” said Rhode.
“Then help Jasdero!” said the blond twin.
“Jasdero, you should be careful about bringing the chicken into the library. You know the Earl doesn’t want it in the house proper,” said Rhode.
“Hee! Our pet’s very well-behaved,” said Jasdero.
The chicken was indeed behaving-it was surprisingly calm, allowing him to hold it under his arm. Jasdero was holding it with care, not inadvertently squeezing it half to death like one might expect, but still. “Don’t chickens usually scratch and peck if you try to touch them?” asked Tiki. He surreptitiously replaced a book of pastry recipes.
“The chicken is Jasdero’s friend,” explained Jasdero.
“Congratulations,” said Tiki. So Jasdero had some sort of affinity with chickens. He would never have guessed.
“Heehee! Thanks!”
Devit shot Tiki a particularly virulent glare and said, “Let’s go finish that chicken coop.”
“I’ll help!” said Rhode, jumping up and down. She dropped the dictionary onto the library rug. “We haven’t had a pet in forever.”
Rhode, Jasdero, Devit, and one chicken left the room, the first three chattering to each other about how exciting it was to have the latter. Tiki opened up the cookbook he’d pulled from the shelf to the chicken recipes.
That evening, Tiki dared to walk down the hall which led to his room. The chicken coop construction was mostly finished, and relative silence had descended except for how the three children had spent the afternoon running around shrieking and knocking into things. Tiki had tried to stay in the library, smoking and playing cards. However, there were steady interruptions. Rhode had tugged at Tiki’s arm and cajoled for him to come see whatever the chicken was doing, which could not possibly justify her level of excitement. Jasdero had run into the library, rambled on about the steps needed to construct a chicken coop, as if Tiki would ever build one, then threatened to shoot him before leaving abruptly. Devit had come to lecture him about the dangers of smoking near birds and to share more facts about chickens than Tiki had ever known existed. Finally, Skinn had stopped by to ask why Tiki was sulking, which should have been obvious-not that he was sulking. This convinced Tiki to leave the library.
In the hall, Jasdero was examining two blocky parcels wrapped in plastic. Skinn had dropped off chicken feed and sawdust by the door to the chicken’s room. Jasdero looked like he’d just received the best birthday presents ever. Rhode was next to him, trying to push the sawdust blocks into the room, but her slight weight had no effect.
“Help us move this, Tiki,” she called happily.
“Jasdero will do it,” said Jasdero, heaving one of the blocks towards the door. Tiki ignored them both as he passed.
Tiki brushed chicken down off the family room couch and sat next to Devit, who was curled up on the couch with his feet on the cushions. He was as intent on his chicken guide as if it contained the secret of eternal life, and didn’t notice that the book Tiki opened was a cookbook.
Without looking up, Devit asked, “Did you know that the chicken originated in Southeast Asia as a bird domesticated for food purposes?”
“Did you know that if you don’t shut up about the damn chickens, I’m going to rip your kidney out through your nose?” asked Tiki.
Devit stared at him, then smirked. “Does it bother you that we pay more attention to the chicken than you?”
Tiki snapped the cookbook shut. “I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re trying to say. You’re just annoying.” More annoying than usual, he thought. “I’m going to bed.”
Jasdero, Devit, and Rhode woke up at five the next morning. Tiki could hear them dashing about, banging through the halls. He held his pillow to his head. Pet chickens did not inspire him to wake up early, although apparently certain other people were so inspired.
When the noise did not abate, Tiki shambled to the door, stuck his head out, and yelled “Why don’t you take the chicken on a walk!?” Where it might escape and/or be hit by a cart. Tiki slammed the door, but even with the pillow back over his head he could hear the other three arguing over his proposal. It sounded like Jasdero was in favor of it, while Rhode and Devit were arguing against it-unfortunately, Rhode and Devit won out.
Tiki tried to think of a place in the Edo mansion where he could sleep until noon without hearing a chicken-induced racket. He settled on one of the smaller storerooms. Tiki made sure his door was locked, then slipped through the wall so Rhode and the twins wouldn’t notice him leaving.
Dust coated the storeroom floor. In between a shelf of paper-wrapped cutlery and a shelf stacked with dishes, Tiki had pleasant half-awake dreams of chicken soup.
Jasdero finished spreading fresh sawdust inside the chicken coop, where the hen was pecking after bits of its feed. He sat between Rhode and his twin, who were sitting by the door. He put his gun to Devit’s head. Devit was absorbed in his book, absently flipping his pistol around in one hand. Particles from the sawdust drifted through the room.
Rhode coughed and said, “You know, you should really name the chicken.”
“Jasdero was just calling it Chicken,” said Jasdero. Devit looked up from his book.
“Jasdero, that’s a stupid name for a chicken,” said Rhode.
The blond twin responded with an indignant cry, and Devit said to Rhode, “Yeah, and how many times have you named a pet chicken?”
“I was thinking of naming it Allen,” said Rhode. Jasdero stifled a laugh, and Devit snorted. “I’m sorry, that’s an even worse name than Chicken.”
“I happen to like that name.”
“Jasdero doesn’t,” said Jasdero, making a face. Besides, if Rhode was in the habit of stabbing Allen, which the twins were in favor of, what if she decided to stab the chicken? This they were not in favor of.
“Look, it’s not like we care, but what kind of guy likes a girl who names a chicken after him?” said Devit. “Think it over.”
Rhode brooded over his rhetorical question for awhile. Devit interrupted her when he said, “I think it should have a cooler name.”
“Like what?” asked Rhode, with a look that dared him to come up with a better name than “Allen.”
“I don’t know, Incarnation of Death or something.”
Rhode wouldn’t stop laughing for an entire minute. Devit turned red and muttered something about nobody appreciating a sense of imagination. Jasdero paid them no mind. He stared with an unhappy expression at the chicken flapping flightlessly about its cage. “Tiki probably wants to call it Dinner,” he said sadly.
“All our names suck,” said Devit.
“Does it need a name?” asked Jasdero. “Hee! But Jasdero will try to think up a good one.”
Just then, Tiki came through the wall, first his arms and head, then one knee, and the rest of his body. He was holding a cleaver wrapped in paper. The twins looked up in alarm. Jasdero’s pistol was raised in an instant, and he shot at the wall beside Tiki, leaving a bullet hole. The hen squawked and went careening around its coop in a panic, down flying.
“Calm down,” said Tiki. He raised his hands placatingly, which was somewhat offset by how he was holding a cleaver in one of them. “Look, if I was going to murder your chicken, I would have unwrapped this first.”
The twins glared. “Like you expect us to notice that in the heat of the moment?” asked Devit.
“What’s for dinner?” asked Jasdero suspiciously. He got to his feet and stood by the chicken coop and patted the wire, having a one-sided conversation in which he told the chicken it was okay.
“Vegetables,” said Tiki with a vague expression.
“I wanted Exorcists,” sulked Rhode.
“Time to find your Allen guy,” said Devit, the side of his mouth quirked in a grin. “As long as it’s not the chicken. So what are you here for, Tiki? We couldn’t find you earlier.”
Tiki shrugged. “I just wanted to…oh yeah, and I wanted to ask Rhode-aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“I have the flu this week.” Rhode clasped her hands around her knees and looked smug.
“I’ve never seen anyone with the flu looking so healthy. Or so full of energy. I had to listen to you bouncing off the walls all morning, you know.” Tiki reached into his pocket for a cigarette, then checked himself. “You aren’t skipping school for the chicken, are you?”
Rhode lectured him, “Tiki, this is a very important period of time in which the Exorcists are more threatening than ever before, yet also more vulnerable. I think I’m justified in lying about my health.” She reflected on this for a moment, her head to the side. “But it also happens to be the period of time in which Jasdevi here brought back a pet chicken.”
Tiki was unconvinced. “And you’ve been devoting all your time to the chicken,” he pointed out.
“Tiki, it’s fun,” she said. He looked at her with an expression of disbelief, unconvinced.
“It is!!” said Jasdero. The chicken was calmer, sitting in a corner on a pile of hay. Jasdero returned to his place between Rhode and Devit, putting his hands palm down on the floor and staring happily up at nothing.
Devit squinted at Tiki’s rumpled clothes. “Why have you been rolling in dust?”
“It’s one of my many hobbies. Now if you’ll excuse me-” Tiki left through the wall, seeing as Jasdero was blocking the doorway.
Rhode shook her head. “For someone who knows how to have fun, he can be quite the spoilsport. That makes him more fun to tease, though.”
“But he’s after Jasdevi’s chicken now,” said Jasdero. “He wants to kill it.”
“Yeah, I call him coming in here with a cleaver pretty suspicious,” said Devit. “That bastard.”
“He does like to tease us back,” Rhode reminded them. She watched the chicken preen itself and smiled.
“And he left before I could tell him that unborn chicks have something called an egg tooth, which they use to peck their way out of the egg.”
“That’s very interesting,” said Rhode in a very bored voice. “By the way, I want you to help me with my Biology assignment.”
“Whaaat!?” complained Jasdero.
“No,” said Devit.
“I have to write a report on the characteristics of an animal species. Also, I have to observe it for several hours and write up my findings.”
Jasdero sat up on his heels, interested. Devit asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yes, I am asking you to write a report about chickens,” said Rhode. Ordinarily, asking the twins to help with homework was like asking a man with no thumbs to knit you a hat. However, for the first time ever Rhode trusted their ability to complete her homework.
“We’ll do it!” said Devit, Jasdero echoing him. Rhode had asked them to do her homework before, of course, when she was feeling mischievous. Ordinarily, extreme bribes or threats were required.
“I’m counting on you,” Rhode told them.
As Tiki passed the library door, he was shocked to see Devit holding a pen and scribbling on a sheaf of papers. First the thick book, now Rhode’s homework? He stopped and stared. It was too much.
Devit looked up. He was curled up in an armchair, and his pistol and book were on the table beside him, loose paper sheets scattered at his feet. “Excuse me? I’m trying to write a report here.”
“Um,” said Tiki. He felt a little inadequate now that Devit had the mysterious ability to do Rhode’s homework properly, an ability Tiki still lacked. On the plus side, Devit is now channeling his extensive knowledge of chickens into Rhode’s report instead of my ear. Tiki hurried away, Devit calling indistinct sarcastic comments after him as he left.
Tiki made his way into the hallway on the east wing. Maybe he’d wring the chicken’s neck today, just to get it over with.
However, Jasdero was by the chicken coop, peering into the cage. He was penning notes in blocky handwriting and muttering to himself, or possibly the chicken. Sensing Tiki’s presence in the doorway, he said, “Won’t let Tiki kill it.”
“I see,” said Tiki in his best surprised voice. “So, what are you doing?”
“Watching the chicken for Rhode,” said Jasdero. “Protecting chicken from Tiki.” The chicken squawked. Jasdero tilted his head quizzically at it, blond hair falling over his jacket, and wrote something down. Tiki stood in the doorway for awhile, but Jasdero showed no sign of boredom. In a way this was good for Tiki, because it meant Jasdero’s unstable mind was concentrated on something besides running around with Devit being annoying.
Tiki went on to spend a relaxing afternoon playing cards with himself, taking a bath, and eating expensive foods on little skewers while lying on the bed in his boxers.
That night he set the cookbook aside. He might need it next week, but not right now.
For several more days, Jasdero continued his observation of the chicken. He sat by the chicken coop for hours, and once a day took it out into the garden to let it run free for the afternoon. Devit would sit outside taking untidy notes from thick books, complaining aloud but not giving up.
Rhode took the opportunity to monopolize annoying Tiki. “Come playyyyy,” she begged, tugging on his arm. He was sitting in an armchair in the library, which had blissfully peaceful until Rhode had showed up, reading a newspaper and smoking. He ignored her. At least a chicken wasn’t involved.
“Come play dolls,” demanded Rhode. “You have to entertain me while Jasdevi are finishing my report.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? And shouldn’t you be out hunting Exorcists?” Tiki had gone out the other day, finding no Exorcists but at least causing havoc among civilians in a city somewhere.
“But I have to fix Devit’s spelling and write out Jasdero’s notes and turn in my report this afternoon!” complained Rhode.
Devit and Jasdero strode through the library door, Devit with books and a stack of papers in his arms, Jasdero with a chicken. “Truly a hard life,” said Devit sarcastically. He dumped the books and paper in the middle of the floor. Jasdero’s notes slid off the top. “We’re done.”
“Oh good,” said Rhode, clapping her hands together. “I’m ever so grateful.”
“But it sounds like you have something against my spelling.” Devit scowled.
“While I admit that your knowledge of the subject surpasses mine, I will have to revise the report so it looks like it was written by a smart person,” said Rhode.
“Rhode, I am going to fucking kill you.” He pulled his pistol from the pocket as he spun to exit the room, his coat flying.
Jasdero took a moment to follow. “Hee!” he said. “While Jasdero was observing for Rhode, he was thinking of a good name for our chicken too. Jasdero thinks-”
Tiki looked up from his newspaper. It was starting again. “This is a library. Could you speak more quietly?” He mentally reviewed a list of chicken recipes.
Jasdero bit off what he was saying to glare at Tiki. “C’mon, Jasdero,” said Devit, motioning to his twin with his pistol. “Rhode, you know, we’d better get something good for this, because that was eight fucking pages long.”
“Bye-bye,” said Rhode. She waved at Devit and Jasdero, the chicken cradled in his arms.
Tiki awoke to a loud banging sound the next morning. He opened his eyes a crack. It was the dark of early morning. Squinting at the clock, he made out that it was four. Tiki fished his cookbook from behind the dresser and tossed it on his bed. He grabbed the cleaver-which he’d been keeping on hand, just in case-tore off the paper wrapping, and stormed down the hall to cut off the chicken’s head. Or possibly stab Jasdero; Tiki was flexible. Either way he’d put a stop to the manic energy that had Rhode and Jasdevi being so obnoxious.
The Earl had gotten to the chicken’s room first. He was facing Jasdero, who was standing there with a hammer in his hand. There was a hole big enough for Rhode to crawl through at the base of the wall by the chicken cool. Cold morning air flowed inside. Despite the chilly breeze, the room still smelled strongly of sawdust.
The chicken was on the other side of Jasdero, looking like an innocent bird instead of Tiki’s sworn enemy. It was watching the Earl with an inscrutable beady eye.
“Jasdero, what are you doing?” asked the Earl with such aggrieved patience that even Jasdero should be able to make it out.
“Building a chicken door,” said Jasdero.
“Why have you knocked a hole in the wall?” asked the Earl. Tiki eyed the chicken, but he was willing to postpone its death to watch the Earl dealing with Jasdero. He edged into the corner by the door and hid the cleaver behind his back, not wanting to interfere.
“Because Dero’s building a chicken door,” said Jasdero.
Devit ran in, followed by Rhode in her nightgown. “Jasdero, why’d the hammering…oh, hi, Millennium Earl.” Devit laughed nervously.
“Good morning, children,” the Earl told the new arrivals. He returned his wrathful attention to Jasdero. “Jasdero, I have allowed your pet in our house, but I will not tolerate your damaging the house itself.”
Devit shoved Tiki aside so he could stand in the corner of the crowded room. He was too focused on his twin’s plight to notice Tiki’s knife. Rhode joined them, thumbing sleepily through a dictionary.
“Jasdero…you’re grounded.”
Jasdero burst into loud tears. Devit stepped over to face the Earl by his side. “What!? That’s not fair!”
“Why ever not?” asked the Earl.
“Err…”
Tiki put in, “You brought it on yourself.” Devit was looking pleadingly at the Earl, Rhode at her dictionary. Tiki took a step towards the chicken, sensing an opportunity nearing.
Jasdero let the Earl grab his collar and drag him towards the door. He sniffled. To the chicken, he gave a cheerful smile through his tears. “Hee! It’s okay, Jasdero doesn’t care as long as the chicken is sa-aaaaAAAaaugh!?” Noticing Tiki with his hand outstretched and the cleaver raised, he gave an outraged shriek. However, the Earl kept dragging him steadily away, ignoring him even when he yelled, “But Tiki’s trying to kill it!!”
“Tiki!” said Rhode, looking up.
Devit lunged for Tiki, but Tiki held off him with one hand. Devit struggled to free himself from Tiki’s grip on his upper arm and kicked at the chicken, which flapped into the corner in a frenzy of shed feathers.
Jasdero caught at the doorframe, holding onto it with his not inconsiderable strength. “You can’t!” he wailed. “Besides-Jasdero decided to name it Tiki!”
Tiki stopped his advance towards the chicken. Which was also Tiki. How immature, he thought.
“Because Tiki can’t kill Tiki!” yelled Jasdero.
“That’s a real good name,” Devit yelled back, trying to tug himself away from Tiki. Watching with narrowed eyes from the corner, Rhode nodded in agreement. Tiki released Devit and handed over the cleaver hilt first. Devit took it reflexively and blinked at it in surprise.
Tiki met the eyes of Jasdero, who had reached an impasse with the Earl and was clinging grimly to the doorframe with trembling black-nailed fingers. “That’s a beautiful name,” he said.
Jasdero beamed at him. He lost his grip, tearing part of the doorframe off of the wall as he went.
Tiki looked at the still-panicked chicken running in circles, at Devit with the cleaver, and at Rhode with her dictionary. “I’m going to go get drunk,” he said, and left the mansion for the dawning day.
Devit and Rhode watched Tiki leave the room with the chicken coop. The hen squawked and pecked at Devit as he tried to guide it back into the chicken coop, but soon found its own way back inside. There was wire mesh in front of the hole leading outside, so it couldn’t escape. Devit shut the chicken coop door.
“Let me share the meaning of the word ‘inebriated’ with you, Devit,” said Rhode.
“I’m probably grounded too,” said Devit. “Jasdero!!” He ran down the hall after his twin.
“Why can’t we all get along?” Rhode complained as she wandered after Devit, bored. When the twins were grounded and Tiki and the Earl away, she’d have nowhere to direct her energy.
In its coop, Tiki was a happy chicken. Skinn remembered to feed it. Rhode only watched it. In an enforced confinement in the basement, which they usually found miserable, Jasdero and Devit distracted themselves plotting pleasant chicken-raising schemes instead of untimely death. Tiki Mick could not, in fact, kill anything also named Tiki. And the Noah family did not have chicken dinners for a very long time after that.
The human Tiki was not quite as happy. Still, he had to admit the omelets were good.