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|A Thanksgiving Story:"The Turkeys' Revenge"|
The turkeys set out to get revenge and earn their freedom from "Farmer John." Will they make it?
This story contains
violence! Rated R: for mature audiences!
[Not for the squeamish!]
A Thanksgiving Story:
"The Turkeys' Revenge"
By Jeff Rogers
...The other turkeys watched anxiously as Farmer John set down his gun.
Farmer John, thinking this downed turkey was just another dead turkey, tragically let his guard down at the wrong time. With his back turned towards the other turkeys, he was unaware of their attack. As he reached down to grasp the dead turkey by its neck, the turkey suddenly shrieked loudly as it thrust its beak with all its might, not just into, but clear through the hand of the farmer that fed him.
In sudden terror and pain, Farmer John stood bolt upright screaming towards the heavens as blood gushed from his hand. Little did he know his hand was the least of his worries.
Two of the turkeys had hoisted the barrel of the shotgun on to the back of a third. Then, the strongest of the turkeys seemed to bark orders at the turkey bearing the weight of the barrel. The turkey shuffled to the side, perfectly lining up the barrel towards the back of Farmer John. The turkeys were all too familiar with the proper handling of the gun. They had seen Farmer John use it both to protect them, and to massacre their friends. This time it was Farmer John who would be massacred. The strong turkey's eyes lit up as though full of fire. Tom turkey, as Farmer John used to call him, let out a scream that would make Bruce Lee run in terror and he plunged his beak on to the cold metal trigger.
When the smoke cleared, Farmer John lay face down in the mud and feces, blood trickling down his sides, dripping onto the earth. The spine that once helped him swing the ax down onto the necks of helpless turkeys, now lay scattered across the barnyard.
The pig that shared the large pen with the turkeys had been watching silently in the shadows. He trotted over to the turkeys and the downed Farmer John. He knew too well that this wasn't over. They were still inside the barnyard, with a fence between them and freedom. If they stayed here, another arrogant human would come to control their lives. Pig, too, had seen Farmer John use the gun. He stepped up to the gun and, using his front hooves, cocked the gun back then forward. An empty casing was tossed out of the gun. A wisp of smoke flowed from the end as it flew through the air. All eyes in the barnyard followed the casing as it sailed to the ground, except of course Farmer John's; his were face down in pig dung.
Pig grunted to the two turkeys that had helped with the gun. The turkeys looked at each other, not quite understanding Pig. Tom suddenly seemed to understand. He gobbled at Pig. Pig gestured at the gun, then trotted over to the gate, where Farmer John had entered. He turned, then looked up at the latch and grunted loudly. He looked back at Tom, then trotted aside. Tom barked some more orders. The barrel of the gun was again on the back of the other turkey and lined up with the latch. Tom's shriek would make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. The gun fired again, shattering the silence of the night. A chunk of the post adjacent to the latch exploded, sending thousands of splinters into the night.
Pig trotted over to the gate and pushed on it with his snout. It would not budge. He trotted, once again, to the gun. In a few moments the gun was again on the back of the turkey with a new load in the chamber. This time, with two shots under his feathers, Tom was confident. The gun was lined up one last time. He could taste his freedom. He thrust his head down with all his might. He hit the hammer hard, sending a jolt of pain into his head. There was another explosion. Tom lifted his head. When he was able to focus through the smoke he saw he had not just hit the latch, but shot it clear off. The gate now stood several inches open.
Pig trotted over and grunted excitedly as he pushed his way through. Pig knew the urgency of the situation. The others in Farmer John's family had driven away in that machine earlier. Pig knew from experience that they always returned and they would return again. He turned and looked back at the turkeys, knowing he would never see them again.
Tom understood by the look in Pig's eyes that he was grateful. Tom, too, was grateful to Pig. Pig nodded, then trotted off into the night. The turkeys hesitated, not used to freedom. They had only known this barnyard. They looked at one another, waiting for someone to go first. They looked to Tom for guidance. Tom eyed the gate and the darkness beyond. He didn't know what was destined for him beyond that gate, but he knew what was destined for him if he remained here. He looked at the others, then back to the gate, then started walking, then running through the open gate and into the darkness.
Everyone in the barnyard ran through that gate and into the darkness, except of course for Farmer John; he was laying face down in pig dung.
© Jeff Rogers 2000
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Support the turkeys (and other animals) in their efforts to avoid being killed for a holiday "celebration": have a vegetarian (vegan) Thanksgiving!
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For more information on the "Original Thanksgiving" please read The First Vegetarian Thanksgiving - by historian Rynn Berry.
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