I squeezed into a back pew, ready to make our break for the café. I wondered if Celia had shown up across the street to stink them all out, but figured I’d know in an hour when I went sprinting out.
Even though I’d gotten a good night’s sleep, I found myself nodding off during service. Pastor Don was a nice man but made watching paint peel look attractive. Finally, Gertie elbowed me and we rose to sing the final hymn. When Pastor Don started the prayer, I readied myself for the run.
As soon as he got the ‘Amen’ out, I bolted for the door. Across the street at the Catholic church, the doors flew open and Celia ran out, a determined look on her face. I just shook my head when I felt a hand on my arm and turned to see Gertie standing there.
“Let me get this one,” Gertie said.
I looked down and realized she’d changed into tennis shoes and waved her on. “Go for it.”
Celia had gotten a tiny jump on Gertie but I wasn’t worried. Besides, if things went sideways, I could always tag in and take over. Celia’s only backup was Dorothy and she wasn’t going to ever win a footrace, not even against a turtle. I jogged behind them, leaving a fifteen-foot gap, and watched as Gertie turned on the afterburners as they neared the café. Surprisingly, so did Celia.
Someone had been practicing.
I readied myself to make the pass when I saw Judith Trahan pull something large and white out of the bed of her pickup truck just as Gertie and Celia got near the café. The large white thing flew out of her arms and right into Celia’s face and I realized it was a chicken. Celia flung her arms out, striking Gertie in the face, and Gertie barreled body-first into Judith’s pickup truck. I slowed to a walk and strolled past Celia, who was on the ground wrestling the chicken, gave Judith a high five, and waved at Ally, who was just inside the doorway, to secure our table and banana pudding.
Ally was laughing so hard she was crying but she managed a nod before heading off.
I helped Gertie up and made sure she hadn’t dented Judith’s pickup truck, but there were so many dents already that I couldn’t tell if Gertie had added to the mix. Francine walked outside, shaking her head. No way I was going to miss the end of the show, so I stayed put.
“Good Lord, someone save that chicken,” Francine said, glaring down at Celia, who was still flailing about with the poor chicken. “And you are not coming in my café. I could smell you when you left the church. Maybe head back there and see if a bath in holy water can fix that.”
Judith grabbed the chicken and shoved it into a cage in the bed of her truck, and we watched as Celia scrambled up and glared at Judith.
“You did that on purpose,” Celia said.
“I was taking the chicken out to show Francine,” Judith said. “You ran right into it. This is totally on you. And since you shouldn’t even leave your house before the EPA clears you, that makes it further your fault. If you hadn’t been out running, it wouldn’t have happened. Now, if you’ll do us all a favor and leave before my chickens start dying from the smell.”
“My eyes are watering,” Gertie said.
“Leave or I call the cops,” Francine said. “I have the right to refuse service and this is me doing just that. I won’t have you driving my customers and my staff out of my café.”
Celia’s face was flushed so red, I thought she was going to pass out, but she knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on.
“You’ll pay for this,” she huffed. “All of you.”
We all waved a hand in dismissal and Francine walked back into the café. Ida Belle strolled up, holding her nose as Celia passed, and we filled her in on the finer points.
“What the heck are you doing here with these chickens?” Gertie asked.
“Francine is interested in some of my stock,” Judith said. “Some of the older hens are sneaky and managed to hide a nest. They’ve multiplied so much that I have to get rid of some or build a bigger coop. Since I’m not much interested in the latter option, I talked to Francine. She’d mentioned getting some chickens before and you can’t beat free and already laying. Plus, it’s