A Day at the Chicken Races

No one knew why the chicken races had started, only that they'd been a staple of the Moshkovinia harvest festival for as long as anyone could remember. Unlike geese, or even swans, chickens made terrible steeds. They were excitable and easily distracted, making them hard to control, but that was what made the races so much fun for spectators to watch. 

The event had been River's favorite since he was a small boy. Each year he had begged his father to let him enter with one of their flock, but his father never allowed it. "Those hens would eat you right up, if you fell off," he'd say with a chuckle. "You'll have to wait till you're bigger."

Now, at 16, and thanks to a growth spurt since his last birthday, River towered six inches over his father. "I reckon this is your year," his father said when River once again announced his desire to enter the race. "You might as well ride Gemima, she's the smartest hen in the flock."

The day of the festival River loaded Gemima and all her tack into the wagon they usually used to bring produce to the weekly market and made his way into town. Strings of solar lights had been hung from the massive tree trunks that towered over the fairgrounds, while thick ropes of hefty flowers braided together festooned the various booths. Inside the tents were colorful displays of quilts, canned goods, pies and miniature fruits and vegetables galore. 

"River! Hey, are you finally racing this year?" A girl with long, dark coils of hair spilling down her back emerged from one of the animal tents, a miniature rooster tucked under her arm.

"Hi, Aikila. Who's that you have there?" River asked. 

"This is Max, I'm showing him today in the miniature fowl competition." The randy little bird puffed up at the sight of Gemima, a glint in his eye. "She's too much woman for you, silly." Akila laughed at the Rooster. 

"Gemima and I are heading over to the paddock now. We're in the second race." River met Akila's eyes with a smile, the sparkle in his eye not dissimilar to that of the little rooster. "Are you going to come watch us win?"

Akila pursed her lips and arched a dark eyebrow. "I just might. But who says you're going to win? It's your first time competing. Don't you think that's a bit...cocky?" She grinned at her own pun.

With a squawk, the little rooster broke free from Aikla's grasp and fluttered to the ground, where it made a beeline for Gemima's trailer. "Hey! Come back here, you!"

Akila and River both lunged for the rooster, bobbing and weaving after him as he fluttered just out of their grasp again and again. Gemima clucked anxiously, seemingly unaware that she was large enough to flatten the aggressive smaller bird with one good stomp. 

By the time Max had been captured and safely contained in his cage, both Akila and River were weak with laughter. 

"It's hard to believe they all used to be his size." River marveled, watching the irate little rooster puffing up his chest with indignation at his romantic overtures being thwarted. 

"Yea, so weird." Akila agreed. "I've heard people used to feed wild birds, even." She shuddered involuntarily. "Can you imagine?" She and River exchanged a somber look, both recalling the gym teacher whose class witnessed a hawk plucking him off the playing field only a few months back. Although many, many generations in the past, nuclear war had wrought irreversible changes to the natural environment. Birds, trees, and other species had evolved over time to gargantuan proportions, helped along by the increased radiation in the atmosphere. Although most public areas like the fairgrounds sported netting to protect against bird attacks, the random incident did still occur. 

A burst of static rent the air, followed by a crackly announcement calling all chicken racers to prepare their steeds and bring them to the paddock in the next ten minutes. 

"That's me, then. Will I see you over there?" River asked. 

"Sure, I'll be there." Akila blushed, despite herself. 

River suppressed a grin as he picked up the handle of the wagon and resumed his trek with Gemima towards the barn where racers and their steeds were already gathering. Regardless of how the race turned out, he was already feeling like a winner.

Image credit to: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/qMAUDXkE7ZM/hqdefault.jpg