The Legend of Bastien - Chapter 17 – They Don’t Teach That in School – Part 1 of 4

 

The Legend of Bastien

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 17 – They Don’t Teach That in School – Part 1 of 4

 

The light from the sun was just beginning to chase the dark of night away when odd noises pulled Chrissy from what little sleep he had managed to get.  His head was spinning, and he was freezing cold.  He was ready to fall over with exhaustion.  He just wanted to lay down and sleep, but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t allowed to lay down.  Evidently, chickens didn’t lay down to sleep, so he couldn’t either.

Yesterday, Judy had come back every few hours with that cattle prod of hers for anther “training session.”  He now only squawked when he was afraid or in pain, and the rest of the time he was supposed to go around making soft bucking noises like the rest of the chickens did.  Then later, Judy had brought out something that surprised him.  A baby bottle.  She had stood there and stuck the bottle in his mouth and waited while he sucked on it greedily until it was completely empty.  Whatever had been in the bottle was nothing he recognized though.  It did taste a bit sweet and not bad at all, but the bottle hadn’t been full, and it certainly didn’t fill him up at all.

But once the sun went down, that’s when things got worse for him.  Judy and her father had forced him into the oversized chicken coop and led him to a place they had built just for him.  They had backed him into a special compartment they had built and made him sit on the pile of hay there.  His nest.  The walls surrounding his little compartment were so narrow that he couldn’t lean in any direction.  Judy and her father made him keep his legs bent, not allowing him to straighten them out.  Then Judy’s father had taken a piece of rope and stretched it across the compartment from one side to the other, just below his head, but not touching him at all.  Then he had been left there to go to sleep.

He could lean his head back against the wall.  He could lean his head against either side wall, but he couldn’t move his body from that upright sitting position.  It didn’t take him long to find out what the piece of rope did.  Anytime he leaned too far forward, it hit him right in his throat.  He wasn’t able to lean forward at all.  He could only sit on his nest, like a chicken, to sleep.

He dared to stretch his legs out once, but he fell asleep that way.  The pain of Judy’s cattle prod hitting his legs not only woke him, but it woke all the other chickens in his coop as well.  After that, he was careful to keep his legs bent in towards his body…on his nest.

The noises of the other chickens around him increased.  So did other sounds.  A moment later, he saw Judy and her mother going from nest to nest, moving chickens as they searched for eggs to collect.  When they got to his oversized coop, Judy removed the simple piece of rope that kept him there.  “Get up and get moving.  And remember, you’re a chicken now.  You don’t lay down.  You can sit once in a while, but be careful, if I don’t like the way you’re sitting you’ll get punished.  Now let me hear you squawk.”  With that she poked him hard in his chest with her finger. 

Frightened, Chrissy let out a squawk like she had taught him yesterday. 

“Now start bucking,” Judy ordered.

Chrissy made the soft sounds like she had taught him yesterday. 

“Go scratch around like the others and look for bugs or something,” Judy ordered.  Then she was gone, in search of more eggs with her mother.

Getting to his feet was difficult.  It took a moment for him to manage it.  He walked out of the chicken coop into the cold morning air.  Now what?  His head was still spinning.  His stomach was hurting because he was so hungry.  He just wanted to lay down and die.  But if he did, Judy or her father would only inflict more torture on him.  If he thought his life before this had been hell, he had been wrong.  As bad as that had been, this was a far worse hell.

He watched Judy and her mother from as great a distance as he could manage in that pen.  It took them a while, but eventually they left with their baskets of eggs.  He could really use a good plate of eggs just then.  A little while later, Judy was back, this time with a bucket.  All the chickens in the pen seemed to run towards her.  He found out why when he saw her spreading chicken feed all around on the ground.  The chickens went crazy trying to get it. 

When Judy finished spreading the chicken feed around, she headed straight for him.  Chrissy’s fear automatically grew.  Judy stopped right in front of Chrissy and reached into her bucket of feed.  She pulled out a handful and held it out towards him.  “Eat it!” she ordered.

Chrissy backed away, but she followed, holding that chicken feed right in front of him.

“I said eat it!” she ordered.

Chrissy couldn’t believe she would want him to do something like that.  “I suggest you get busy eating this stuff, and I suggest you start liking to eat it a lot, because from now on, like every other chicken here, this is all you’re going to be allowed to eat anymore.  You’re a chicken now, you get fed chicken feed.  Now eat it!”

But Chrissy couldn’t imagine eating that stuff.  He couldn’t do it.

“Fine!” Judy declared.  She set the bucket down and walked away from him.  Leaving the pen.  Chrissy breathed a sigh of relief.  But his relief didn’t last long as she came back a few minutes later with her cattle prod.  It was another torture session for Chrissy that could only end one way, him learning to squawk like a chicken at the pain, and him leaning over to get his mouth down far enough to eat the chicken feed from her hand.  “Get used to it!” Judy said nastily before she left him.

Chrissy’s stomach was revolting.  It was all he could do to keep from puking.  He felt himself peeing and he spread his legs so it wouldn’t get on him.  Fortunately, as usual now, it didn’t last long.  To his surprise, Judy came back with another of those baby bottles of…something.  Something that actually tasted pretty good.  He just didn’t know what it was.  While she held the bottle in his mouth, he drank it down greedily.  Once again, he wasn’t happy when the bottle ran dry.  He wanted more.  He wanted something to eat – real food!  But so far, it looked like he wasn’t going to get it.

“I don’t hear you sounding like a chicken,” Judy said.  “I don’t see you acting like a chicken,” she added.  “Flap your wings!”

After yesterday’s torture sessions, Chrissy quickly pumped his elbows up and down.

“Go hunt for bugs and buck like you’re supposed to!” she ordered.

Chrissy let out a small soft buck, then moved away from her, his head looking down at the ground as if he was searching for bugs or something.  He was just glad to get away from her…and her cattle prod.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

It was Sunday morning, but Tess still walked into the sheriff’s office bright and early.  “Is the sheriff here?” she asked Deputy Will.

“Not today Tess.  Come back tomorrow.”

“Can I go see my son?”

“From what I hear…no.  They’re allowing you no contact at all.”

“Why?”

“Hell if I know.  Nobody filled me in on anything,” Will admitted.

“When will the sheriff be back?”

“He should be here tomorrow.”

“I’ll be back then.”

“Whatever you want,” Will said. 

Tess had no choice but to leave and go home…back to her empty little house.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Chrissy didn’t understand any of it.  He didn’t understand why they were treating him like they were.  He was at a total loss.  But he was even more confused when Judy and her mother came for him later that day and forced him to lay down on the ground.  That much he liked.  The rest of it, he didn’t.

While Judy’s mother held his head so he couldn’t move it, Judy coated his entire face with some kind of oily stuff.  Then she stuck a straw between his lips and ordered him to keep it there.  But what came next really frightened him.  She began covering his entire face with some kind of thick stuff, including over his eyes.  Before long, he needed that straw between his lips because it was all he had to breathe through.  He was panicking, but between Judy and her mother, they managed to hold him still.

“Don’t move!” Judy yelled, warning him.  “Or I’ll make this even worse.  Don’t worry, we’ll be done soon.”

Chrissy had no idea what she meant, and he really didn’t want to find out.

A few minutes later, Judy pulled up on the thick plaster they had applied all over his face, pulling it away from his face and pulling the straw out with it.  Chrissy breathed in desperately, trying to get his breath back.  Judy’s mother took a rag and wiped his face off.  Once again, Judy forced him to his feet, then the two of them left him there, alone…except for the chickens.  Chrissy had no idea what had just happened.

In their house, Judy and her mother set the plaster casting of Chrissy’s face on the kitchen table, but the casting was the reverse of what they needed.  After coating the inside of the casting with cooking oil, Judy mixed up another batch of plaster and poured it into the casting they had just made.  Then she left it to dry.  When she removed the new plaster, she had a perfect likeness of Chrissy’s face to work with for anything she wanted.

“Now comes the hard part,” Judy’s mother told her.

“Yeah,” Judy replied.  “But so far, so good.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Tess was at the sheriff’s office bright and early Monday morning demanding to see her son. 

“No!” Sheriff Bastien told her.  “No contact till whatever Judy is doing with him is done.”

“But he’s my son!” she argued.  “What are they doing with him?”

“Can’t say,” Tom told her.  “That’s her business.”

“But he’s my son.  You’ve got to let me see him.”

“Nope!  Can’t do it.  Now get back to the bank and get to work!”

Tess was angry, but she had no choice but to leave.

What were they doing with her son?

She went back the next morning, and the next.  She would go every single day until she got to finally see her son.

“Tell you what,” Tom finally told her.  “I’ll ask, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“Please!” Tess pleaded, grasping any bit of hope she could get.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Chrissy didn’t exactly live the life the other chickens lived, but it was pretty close.  Like the other chickens, he got fed three times a day, but he still only got fed that same chicken feed.  He was so desperately hungry that he was starting to look forward to the few times when he got fed…straight out of Judy’s hand where she held it out for him.  Like the other chickens, he was so desperate for that lousy bit of something to eat that he began following her whenever she came into the pen with her feed bucket, just waiting for her to hold out those few handfuls of something to eat.  But of course, Judy never made it that easy.  Very often she held the feed out lower and lower, so he had to lean down further and further to get to it.  After a few handfuls, she would laugh, then leave him.

But the best part was the baby bottles of whatever that stuff was.  He eventually started counting and realized he was getting them about four times during the day.  While she held the bottles to his mouth, he drank them greedily every time.  That was all he had to nourish his body.  Whatever was in those bottles…and plain chicken feed.  Somehow, he was surviving though, but barely.

His stomach was always hungry, and his poop was now runny and getting more difficult to control.  But as long as Judy continued to feed him only what was made for chickens, he had a feeling there would be no way around that.  And he really, really wished he could lay down once in a while instead of sitting up in his chicken coop to sleep.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---