The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull

Author:Cadwell Turnbull
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2019-04-18T18:50:24+00:00

King Cock

Jammie heard the fire engines first. Then he smelled the smoke.

It couldn’t be.

He told Dana to get out of the house, then rushed outside to see his backyard on fire. The crackling flames were burning through his entire blasted weed farm.

Shit!

It was too late for the weed. The fire truck, by the sound of it, was making its way down Waterfront. It would take fifteen minutes tops before it barreled down the small St. Thomas road leading to his house.

Enough time to save his cocks.

Jammie took off his white shirt, stained yellow from years of use, and wrapped it around his neck. Taking one last breath of clean air, he tied the shirt over his nose and mouth. Then he ran into the smoke.

Jammie’s backyard was fenced in, with a tight dirt path between his weed farm and his coop. The unkempt grass along the path had caught fire, and within minutes, the chicken coop would be up in flames, too.

He ran down the dirt path and jumped over the burning grass, flames licking at his legs.

By the time he got to the coop, his rooster Joliah was already dead. The poor bastard. King Cock, however, was going crazy in his cage, screeching in terror, his mane fluffed up beyond what Jammie had thought possible.

The heavy smoke was burning Jammie’s eyes. He blinked away tears, unlatching the cage and reaching in for King Cock, barely thinking about proper technique. When he grabbed King Cock, the bird went nuts, pecking and clawing everywhere. Jammie was pumping with so much adrenaline, he didn’t pay any mind to the fresh cut on his hand. He tucked the big rooster under his arm—an ordeal in itself.

Jammie could hear the sirens through the crackling flames. They were close. He scrambled his way through the tall grass along his fence because it was the only path left to him. When he cleared the fire, he pulled the shirt from his face and took in a gulp of smoky air. He erupted in coughs, his throat scratchy and raw.

King Cock went crazy again, scratching at Jammie’s side. There was no shirt to protect him from the rooster’s sharp claws and spurs as they dug into his flesh.

He winced and loosened his grip, and King Cock launched into the air and landed on Jammie’s roof, then took off out of sight.

“But what fuck I seeing here!” he yelled. “Where the rass you going?” It made no difference. His prize rooster was gone.

Pressing his shirt to his bleeding side, he walked out to the front of his house just in time to see the fire truck pull up. Five men in full firefighter gear jumped down before it even made a full stop. Three men went for the hoses, and once the driver stopped the truck, they all ran past him in the direction of the fire.

Jammie felt dizzy, the world around him spinning furiously.

In minutes, the firefighters had hosed down the flames and returned to the front of the house.

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