The lady who did not like chickens was back, and the banana breadman’s eyes gleamed. All the chickens knew that breadman wanted to peck the lady, so Akamai had devised a plan to make it happen. Breadman was good to their flock. He deserved a hen of his own.
“Operation Peck commencing,” she clucked at her brothers and sisters. “Kolohe, you’re up first. Go get her.”
“Roger that.” Kolohe strutted towards the parked cage with the lady inside. He stayed behind the heels of the breadman so she would not see him coming. The rest of the flock ranged out across the yard, watching, and waiting for an opening to strike.
The breadman knocked on the lady’s window, and she jumped so high she hit her head on the roof of her cage. Akamai shook out her feathers. Poor breadman, he was the most awkward bird she knew, which was why he needed her help.
“Aloha!” The breadman flashed the lady an apologetic smile along with a shaka, but the lady returned his greeting with her challenge eyes.
She may want to be the head hen, but not in this yard. This yard belonged to Akamai’s family. If she wanted to peck the breadman, she needed to soften her approach.
The door of the cage opened, and the lady stepped into the yard, kicking up a cloud of sand and dirt. Perfect. Kolohe would be able to sneak up on her unobserved.
“I need sixteen loaves today.”
The breadman leaned against the side of the lady’s cage and crossed his wings. He should not do that. With no shirt on, the metal would burn his back. Cages in the Hawaiian sun were a recipe for pain.
The lady raked her gaze over him. “Shouldn’t you have a shirt on? You’re in food service. Isn’t that a health code violation?” Smart lady. She had earned a piece of Akamai’s respect, but only a piece.
Breadman shrugged and ran his hands down his bare chest. “Maybe.” Not so smart breadman. Put on a shirt.
Kolohe bent low towards the dirt. “Permission to approach,” he clucked.
Time for step one. Skin contact. “Permission granted.”
Kolohe pecked the lady’s ankle and flapped back as she flew into the air. “AH!” As hoped, she grabbed for the breadman’s chest, but then she tried to climb over him onto the roof of her cage. Where was she going?
The breadman put his wings around her waist and, with amusement in his eyes, lowered her back to the ground. “What’s the matter?”
The lady’s eyes darted from bird to bird. “Your chicken just tried to eat me.” She locked eyes with Kolohe and pointed. “That one.”
She really shouldn’t point. It isn’t polite.
Kolohe looked to Akamai for direction. She took the measure of the pair. Phase one had worked. Breadman still had a wing around the lady’s waist, but one wing was not enough.
“Commence phase two.” Knight in Shining Armor.
Kolohe crept around the rear of the lady’s cage, while birdman babbled on about the names of her brothers and sisters. She’s afraid of us you ninny. Talk about yourself instead.
When Kolohe was in position, Akamai checked on her brother Koa. Positioned near the banana bread stand, he prepared to jump out of a tree, flap his wings, and catch breadman’s attention. They needed breadman to think of the stand for their plan to work.
“Execute,” Akamai squawked so that both her brothers could hear.
Kolohe pecked the lady’s ankle again, harder this time, and the lady screeched, pushing away from the breadman. Drats. Not quite what they had planned.
“Help me!” The lady turned her pleading eyes on the breadman, who glanced around the yard. Perfect.
“Now Koa!”
Koa sprang from the tree and flapped with enthusiasm as he plummeted toward the ground. The breadman turned his head toward the stand and then his cheek muscle twitched. Leaning over, he wrapped his wings around the lady’s legs and hoisted her into the air. Then carrying her like a sack of feed, he shuffled towards the banana bread stand.
When the breadman wrenched the door open to place the lady inside, Akamai was distracted by the tantalizing aroma of baked bread. Sweet and nutty. All her brothers and sisters scampered towards the stand their beaks raised in the air.
The clucking intensified as the breadman closed the door. The pleasing aroma hung in the air, causing confusion and chaos. Akamai feared their plan would fail if she could not get them refocused.
“Commence phase three.” No response from her preoccupied ohana. “Koa, time to climb to the service window.”
Koa paid her no mind. He’d found some dried breadcrumbs at the base of the tree and was at the mercy of his baser instinct for food.
Akamai glanced towards the booth. They must act fast, or the plan would fail. Stage three was the most important phase. If only she could climb as well as Koa.
“Kolohe? Nani? Eddie?”
None of her ohana responded. Breadman out of sight, they strutted towards the unattended vegetable garden forgetting the newly scattered garlic powder on the perimeter. Defeating that barrier had been yesterday’s assignment. They’d failed. They must not fail today.
Akamai approached the plastic table and chairs that sat adjacent to the booth. If she could hop high enough to get on the chair, she could hop onto the table next, and then up to the service counter. Nothing for it but to try. The window of opportunity was closing.
She closed her eyes and jumped. Feeling her feet land on the slippery plastic, she jumped again, and by the time she dared to look, she was standing before the service window. Victory!
But only a partial one. Breadman and lady pressed back away from each other as far as the tiny booth allowed. Her eyes darted unseeing as if waiting for a threat. Well, a threat had arrived.
Akamai tapped the glass.
TAP!
Lady’s beak crashed into breadman’s beak, but then she backed away. Not close enough. Breadman wanted to peck the lady with his second beak. The smaller, wetter one.
TAP. TAP.
Lady crashed into the counter behind her and fell forward onto breadman. As if in a movie like the ones her ohana watched through the breadman’s window on Friday nights, the lady raised her eyes to look at breadman. Now was the moment.
Peck him. Peck him!
Breadman spoke. “The birds can’t get in here, Helen. Otherwise, they’d eat all the bread.”
FOOL!
The lady’s eyes disconnected from the breadman and scanned the booth to see all the bread waiting to be sold. Her gaze rested longest on the bag the breadman had taken extra pains with that morning, writing words Akamai could not read in large letters. Grabbing the bag, the lady shoved breadman and stormed out of the booth.
The aroma of bread again sent her brothers and sisters into a frenzy. Chasing the lady to her cage, hoping to frighten her into dropping her bag.
The service window slid open, and the breadman petted Akamai’s feathers as he watched the lady slam the door of her cage. “All I wanted was one date.”
Then you should have asked her, you ninny. Akamai pecked the breadman on the cheek and cocked her head towards the car.
“We can’t do all the work for you,” she clucked.
Breadman got the message. He left the booth and chased down her car. Although the lady stopped, she did not exit her cage. Akamai was too far away to hear their words, but as the lady drove away, she shouted.
“If you can think of a chicken-free place, then yes, I’ll go out with you.”
Akamai squawked. Good luck with that. On Maui, the chickens ruled. The big birds were just tourists.