Chickens & Hens by Nancy-Gail Burns

Author:Nancy-Gail Burns [Burns, Nancy-Gail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Family
ISBN: 9781938821806
Publisher: Grey Gecko Press
Published: 2015-01-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33

Persistent taps coming from outside seize our attention. Granny hurries to the front window, snoops, and makes her way to the porch. I’m right behind her. “Morning, Mr. Dodd.”

“Morning, Melina.”

“Wasn’t too long ago that you took the sign down.”

He gives the sign a solid whack, then wipes his brow with a handkerchief. “Barely two months,” he says.

“I hope we have better luck this time around.”

“If you know anyone interested, let them know that they can buy it for next to nothing.”

Granny shakes her head. “I imagine that’s all it’s worth.”

“You got that right.”

Granny leans over the railing and asks, “So, are they gone?”

Mr. Dodds comes closer as he says, “Mr. Dawson works at Derby’s. You know it stays open all night.”

“I didn’t know that,” Granny admits.

“Well, anyway, he saw the McRaffetys leave in a large yellow truck in the middle of the night. They dropped into Derby’s for a bite before beginning a long trip. They won’t be coming back.”

“I never heard a sound.” Lines dash across her forehead. “I wonder where they’re going.”

“Don’t know, don’t care. As long as they stay away from Farley Falls, I’m happy.”

“Have to admit, I feel the same. Well, have a good day. Hope you have luck with the sale.”

“I’ll need a lot of luck to sell it in the shape it’s in.”

Just as we’re about to go inside, the Potters’s little red car pulls into their driveway.

“Look, Granny, the Potters are back.”

She nods. She doesn’t seem surprised. The car doors barely close when the gang marches onto the porch. I grab hold of her when Mr. Potter approaches the biggest and meanest gang member. “I can’t watch,” I moan.

I wait for the splat. Instead, Poison’s arms encircle the little man. “Piece of cake!” he bellows as each gang member greets the Potters with hugs and smiles.

Mrs. Potter’s eyes dart in every direction. “You’re sure they’re really gone?”

“Positive,” the gang says in unison.

Mr. Potter’s arms reach out to the skies. “Praise the Lord!” he proclaims.

I lean in to Granny. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“The gang is born-again Christians. They helped get the Potters their home back.”

“Can we hang up our old uniforms?” Poison asks.

“Certainly,” Mr. Potter says. “They aren’t appropriate now that you’ve found the Lord.” He rushes over to his little red car and retrieves four large bags. He hands each of the boys one.

“It’s black leather jackets!” Poison squawks.

“Look at the crest,” Mr. Potter says.

“The Lord’s Children,” Poison reads aloud.

I’m sure I see tears rolling down the bikers’ cheeks as they caress the leather. I’m certain they are when Mr. Potter hands Poison a handkerchief and it passes from one to another.

Mr. Potter’s arms encircle his wife and son. He beams at the bikers. His voice booms with fervour. “It must have been an ordeal to revert back to drinking and swearing and partying. I couldn’t have done it.” He adds, “You gave us back our home, and I promise we’ll all help you on your journey to find the Lord.”

“We’ll never give up on you boys,” Mrs.

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