Free Chicken Chicken by R. L. Stine

the cat to pounce again. Waited to feel its claws
wrap around me. Waited to be lifted into the air again.
    Waited…
    When it didn’t pounce, I lifted my head. I struggled to focus.
    Where was it?
    I could hear my brother cheeping in terror somewhere across the floor.
    I climbed slowly to my feet. I ruffled my feathers, which were wet and sticky
from being inside the cat’s mouth.
    Where was the cat? Why did it stop torturing me?
    The lights flashed on.
    “Eeeeep!” I uttered a shrill shriek as a big face lowered itself toward me.
    Vanessa!
    “Well, well!” her voice boomed in my tiny ears. “What have we here?”
    Her hand swooped down and grabbed me off the floor.

 
 
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    She swooped me up, then picked up Cole, too. She perched us in the palm of
her hand and held us close to her pale face. A pleased smile spread across her
black-lipsticked lips.
    “I see you found my spell book, little duckies,” she teased. “Let me guess.
You must be Crystal and Cole.”
    Cole and I cheeped loudly and hopped up and down in protest.
    Vanessa laughed. “You’re both so cute!” she exclaimed. “What a shame I had to
teach you a lesson.” She tsk-tsked.
    “Cheep cheep!” I squeaked.
    I wanted to ask why she had done this to Cole and me. I wanted to promise her
that no matter what it was we had done—we’d never do it again. I wanted to
demand that she change us back—now.
    But all I could do was cheep !
    “What should I do with you two?” Vanessa asked, her dark eyes flashing.
“Should I send you back out? It’s a long way to your house from here. You’d
probably be eaten before you got there.”
    “Cheeeeep!” Cole and I pleaded.
    How could we communicate with her? How could we talk to her? How?
    I suddenly had an idea.
    The old typewriter on the desk. Vanessa was holding Cole and me right above
it.
    I glanced down. A sheet of white paper lay curled in the typewriter. Yes! I
thought. Yes! Our only chance.
    I didn’t take another second to think about it.
    I leaped from Vanessa’s palm. And landed with a hard plop on the
desktop.
    “Hey, chickie—!” I heard Vanessa’s startled cry. She lowered her hand to
pick me up again.
    But I jumped onto the typewriter keys. Lowered my head. And began pecking
away with my hard little beak.
    I pecked a V Then I hopped up to the left and pecked an A. As Vanessa’s hand
swooped to grab me, I slid back down to the bottom row and pecked an N.
    Vanessa’s hand stopped inches above me. Could she see what I was doing? Did
she figure out that I was typing her a message?
    The E was nearly at the top of the keyboard. I stumbled on the keys and
nearly typed the wrong letter. But I hit the E, then backed up a step and pecked two S’s.
    I glanced up. Yes! She was watching. She had Cole resting in her palm. She
leaned over the desk, and her dark eyes stared down at the sheet of paper.
    I was gasping for breath by the time I finished. My little heart was
pounding. It was such hard work! But I typed the whole message:
    VANESSA, WE’RE REALLY SORRY. WE DIDN’T MEAN TO SPILL YOUR GROCERIES. WE CAME
TO APOLOGIZE.
    I dropped weakly onto the desktop. So exhausted, I could barely move.
    I turned and raised my eyes to Vanessa.
    Would she help us? Would she accept our apology? Would she change us back to
normal?
    Vanessa brought her face down close to me. “Your apology is a little too
late,” she said coldly. “There’s nothing I can do.”

 
 
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    Cole uttered a pitiful “Cheep.”
    I raised myself up with a sigh. Then I stumbled back wearily onto the
typewriter keys.
    PLEAS, I pecked out.
    I was so tired, I didn’t have the strength to push down the E at the end.
    I gazed up hopefully at Vanessa. She stared down at the word I had typed. She
tapped her chin with her black fingernails.
    “Well…” she said finally. “I like the way you say ‘please’ .” She lifted me up gently and set me down in her palm beside Cole.
    “Politeness is so