Lissa's Collection of Poetry and Short Stories

The difference between Quail and Turkeys

The difference between Quail and Turkeys

It was a late summer day, and all the birds of the sky were wandering back to the nests from which they came.

In order to get to their homes, Stout Mr. Quail was in the custom of leading his covey across the black, smooth surface of the dangerous road. Every day he did this, once at dawn and once at dusk.

"Casual, men. Casual. We don't want them to think we're afraid," He said to the flock, doing his best not to hit any high notes. He knew the routine; if one quail goofs they all do. But as he watched the metal giant moving closer and closer he longed more and more to skip into a run, or take to the sky.

"Sir!" Said Feather, who didn't bother checking her voice for high tones. "Shouldn't we retreat? It seems much to close now." She finished as she let herself scurry along a little faster. The mood was spreading to the rest of the flock, so they picked up their pace. A hushed murmur of "A-car-car!" slowly rose. This is the call that quail are so well known for.

"We're half way there, we should be okay!" Mr. Quail chirped encouragingly. Inwardly he was fighting the screaming impulses to dash back to safety. "Remember men, Casual!" His words only heightened the amount of "A-car-cars" he heard.

"I say we head back!" Yelled Downey fearfully, cranking the volume up. "A-car-car! A car-car!"

"I say we go forth! We're closer to the end than to the start!" Kyle called just as frightened. By now he was screaming to be heard over the other chirps- and the ever persistent "A-car-car!"

Meanwhile the car came closer.

The quail were terrified. Not knowing where to go, they were frozen in the middle of the street, each one shouting a different thing. "Go forward! Go back! A car-car!"

"Which way do we go?!? Which way do we go?!?" They yelled to Mr. Quail as they zigzagged all over the road.

"REMEMBER MEN!!!" He screamed in a very frightened voice. "Casu-" Mr. Quail stared at the on-coming car, which was now only thirty feet away. An evil gleam seemed to come to its eyes, and he could take it no longer.

"TAKE WING!!!!" He screeched. Immediately they burst into flight. They flew every which way- some to the left, some to the right. It's a miracle that they never run into each other.

"Dude!" Mr. Quail heard a few seconds after the car had passed. He had landed on a branch and was checking to make sure that no part of him was missing.

A long, ugly, pinkish-grayish head was staring up at him from the grass. This head was so easy to distinguish because it was in complete contrast to the rest of the birds body, which was black. Two other pink headed, black bodied birds joined him a second later. "Oh," Mr. Quail said with a slight moan. "It's you, Mr. Turkey."

"Hey, Dude! What's up?"

Not you, he wanted to say. Bumbling feather brains like you can't fly up trees, and even if you do you just fall right back down. "We were nearly splattered by that car. That's all."

"Dude. You totally don't know how to handle that, dude. You and all your other buddies were like, totally freakin' out. Learn it from a pro; this is how you cross a road!"

All the quail gathered around Mr. Turkey (and his pals, Turk and Kay) as he waited for another car to come.

"Dude! Here comes a whopper!" He called to Mr. Quail. Oh, brother. Here we go again.

Mr. Turkey waited until it was about thirty feet away. Suddenly he jumped out and began strutting in the middle of the road!

The car screeched to a stop only three feet away from Mr. Turkey. Kay and Turk joined Mr. Turkey on his leisurely walk, going back and forth in front of the car several times.

Mr. Quail was sure that it would burst into speed and splatter them all over the road, but indeed it did not! It waited until all three of the smooth turkeys had passed to the other side before it made one move.

"Take it from the expert, dude! THAT'S how you cross a road!" Mr. Turkey yelled from the other side. The three disappeared into the grass.

"That-that- TURKEY! Who does he think he is?!?" Mr. Quail puffed as he flew down to join the rest of his flock, who were all gossiping about the brave Mr. Turkey.

It just wasn't fair that Mr. Turkey was so much braver than he. After all, you never caught Mr. Turkey guarding over his flock, or telling them to run when danger comes. "If he had half the group that I have, they would all be stuck to the road!"

"What are you talking about? You saw him! He can make the cars stop!" said a little one in awe. "I bet we would all be safe if we were turkeys."

"I say we quit being quail. I say we should all be turkeys!" Cried some one else.

"Yeah, what's the difference between quail and turkeys anyways? Except the power to stop cars, of course."

"I'll tell you what it is," Mr. Quail chirped angrily. "All turkeys have ugly heads!"

"He does have a point there," They said to each other. Nobody liked the thought of having an ugly head.

"You want to know why they have ugly heads?"

"No," They answered.

"I'll tell you anyway!" Mr. Quail retorted. If they heard only one side of the story, he was going to make them hear the other! "It's because of that trick that Mr. Turkey just showed you! It doesn't always work.

You see, Turkeys used to have perfectly good heads, a lot like ours. Feathery, short, and beautiful. But then one day the automobile was invented. The quail, wise as they were, stayed far away from the car, but the turkeys wanted to be cool. They would try to show off by making the cars stop for them.

Once in a while though, a car decides it doesn't want to stop for the turkey. So it keeps going. The turkeys don't always get out of the way in time, however, so it runs right over them. That's why their heads are all wrinkled and stretched."

"How come the cars never run over the rest of their body?" Asked the same little one challengingly.

"They do, but if that happens the turkeys don't survive. They become thanksgiving dinners." He answered gravely. All the quail cringed at this.

"How come they live if their heads get run over?" Kyle questioned.

"I'm not sure," Mr. Quail mused, "It's probably because their heads are the only part of their bodies that they can spare."

At this all the quail nodded. "We shall be quail." They stated. "We might not be brave, but we will never get our necks stretched!"

As the sun set, the little flock quietly dispersed into the woods from where they came.

And Mr. Quail, with a tip of his feather cap, bade all four his smooth and black adversaries' good-night.

THE END