Peonies and Fireflies

To say that the chicken coop was in turmoil would be an understatement. It was in cacophony, at war, filled with the casualties of trauma. Feathers filled the air as if a down pillow had been hit with a shotgun. The terrified squawking of hens sounded like a siren’s choir. Shadows scattered every which way as the hanging lights swayed violently in the whirlwind of flapping wings. On the outside of the coop, a single fox observed the chaos, a dead chicken clamped in its jaws. The porch lights flicked on at the farm house, and the fox turned and ran.

~~~~~

Two days later, the fox found itself once again on the outside of the coop, crouching hidden in the tall grass next to a fallen tree. The chicken run was large, with two hen houses on either end and a bare patch of earth in the middle. The little yard was barren of any life, but a garble of sounds came from both, ship-lap sided huts. The fox’s ears swiveled forward as all the noise in one of the huts promptly stopped. A single, solitary hen stepped out of the house on the left. It was large, with grey and black striped feathers. It stood for a moment in the middle of the sloping ramp. It’s head flicked to the side, and its eyes stared at the fox’s hiding place. The hen marched straight to the fence, hopped up on an upturned feed bowl, and puffed out the feathers around her neck.

“You, my furry friend,” the hen called out, “are not at all welcomed here!” The fox started. “Yes, I’m talking to you, you black eared fiend! Show yourself!”

Intrigued by such strong words from its potential dinner, the fox sat up. “Excuse me?”

“Ah, see? I knew you were there! Now come here and apologize if nothing else.”

“Apologize?”

“Yes! You see all my friends? No? Of course not! They’re all shell shocked no thanks to you. Your escapade the other night has got them all in a dither. They only come out when Mrs. May comes to feed us. And that’s another thing too! Mrs. May has got it out for you. Three, shiny, new traps arrived all ready to gobble you up and take you away like you did our dear friend Babs.”

The fox, impressed and shaken by the hen’s harsh scolding, moved closer the coop. “You’re quite a fierce little hen.”

“And that’s not all!” she clucked. “Not only are there new traps, but I led Mrs. May to that awful, sneaky little hole you dug behind our coop. Yes, I found it! She'll be fixing it up here properly soon. In the meantime, there's a nice big ol’ stack of bricks to keep you out. If you aren’t going to leave, then you should at least apologize for your wrongdoings!”

The fox inched closer to the fence until it was staring into the dark eyes of the hen. “Am I to apologize for eating your friend?” the fox asked. “Am I to apologize for what I am? You have food brought to you; I don’t have such luxury. I’m a fox, and I have to hunt and eat animals like you. And you are a stupid hen; the only thing you can do is run and be eaten. It’s nature.”

The hen ruffled its feathers. She hopped off the feed bowl and came beak to snout with the fox only a wires width away. For a moment, everything was silent. The hen then made a sound, and the fox realized she was laughing. “You are a clever vixen, aren’t you?”

“You assume I am a vixen and not a tod?”

“Of course you are a vixen; no tod could come up with such eloquent, scathing words. Only vixens such as ourselves can say such things well, I think. But I fear you are right, with nature as it is, perhaps it can not be changed.” The hen jumped off the feed bowl and turned away. “Very well! You filthy beast, be gone from here! If you come back again you will surely be shot dead for killing our friend! I hope you choke on a violet!”

“What?”

“Choke on a violet!”

“No, I heard what you said. It's my…my name is Violet.”

The hen turned around. She stalked back up to the fence. “Violet? As in the common violet? Found out in the forest?”

“Yes,” Violet said, “it was my mother’s favorite flower.”

The hen nodded. “She had good taste. That is indeed a pleasant little flower. My favorite wildflower is the shooting star. Otherwise, my favorite flower is the peony.”

Violet leapt up, startling the hen. “Peonies! You’ve seen a peony? Where?”

“In the garden, of course,” said the hen, bobbing her head towards the farm house. “Mrs. May has all types of flowers in her garden.”

“Ah, the garden,” Violet’s words became dull. “I can’t get into the garden. I’ve tried.”

“Good,” said the hen, “if you can’t get in, then that means the other critters can’t get in either. We can’t have the rabbits eating all Mrs. May’s bulbs now can we?”

Violet looked longingly towards the garden. “My mother told me about them, but I've never seen one. I always wanted to see a peony,” she murmured.

“There's more than just peonies too,” said the hen proudly. “There are tulips, daffodils, roses, dahlias, ranunculus, tulips. Ah, the tulips! They are beautiful right now! Spring is upon the garden and it is a sight to behold!”

“But not for me,” said Violet. The hen watched as a darkness seemed to cover the vixen’s face. “Enough of this,” the vixen growled as she stood and started to walk away. “This conversation is tiring me. I shall stay away as you wish, but I will not apologize. Good day.”

“Would you like to see the garden?” Violet stopped. She looked back at the plucky hen. “I can take you to see the garden,” the hen repeated.

“Why…why would you even offer that to me? I’m a fox, remember?”

The hen shifted from foot to foot. “I…I don’t think it is right not to see something you love when it is so close. Let me take you.”

“And…what do you want in return?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes, nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Violet mused, “for you to show me such wonders and for me not to reciprocate in some way. Tell me, is there anything you wish to see?”

It was the hen’s turn to be pensive. She looked up at the sky then, watching the wispy clouds as they scuttled overhead. She was quiet for a long time. “A river,” she finally replied, “I’ve always wanted to see an actual river. I know there is one nearby, but I’d be much too scared to go find it alone.”

Violet nodded. “Understandable. What is your name, Miss Hen?”

“Heidi,” she said with a little bob of her head.

“Well, Heidi, if you take me to see the peonies, then I’ll take you to see the river.”

“Ok. On one condition.”

“Tell me.”

“Even though it is very in your nature, probably down to your very bones, you will not try to eat me.”

“Heidi,” Violet smiled, “you have a deal.”

~~~~~

Night came cool and filled with a bright, half moon. Violet sat behind the garden’s back wall where Heidi had said to meet her. From her position, she could see the back of the chicken coop. She had been watching the coop diligently since she arrived, but hadn’t seen any sign of movement. Perhaps she wasn’t coming, Violet thought. After all, she was a fox and Heidi was a hen. Perhaps…

“Are you ready?” If it had been a competition, Violet would have won with full marks for how high she jumped. She landed, her hackles standing on end.

“Don't do that!” she whirled on the hen, teeth bared. Heidi, for her part, neither squawked nor ran. Even so, her little eyes quivered as the white of Violet’s teeth reflected in them.

“S-sorry,” she clucked.

Violet stepped back, taking a deep breath. “You startled me, that's all. Wait!” She looked from Heidi, to the coop, and back again. “When did you get out? And how?”

Heidi gave a cheeky fluff of her feathers. “I have a few secrets in my old wings. But none of that now. Let's get you into that garden. Walk around the front and I’ll meet you at the gate.”

“How?”

“You’ll see.”

With Heidi’s urging, Violet stepped silently around to the front of the garden. The surrounding wall was about ten feet high, the first seven feet being made of brick and the last three made of wire. How any creature could get in was beyond her. She came to the mesh door of the garden. She was sitting for only a moment before Heidi appeared on the inside. “Again, how?”

Heidi answered by jumping and flapping her wings violently. She landed at a precarious angle on the door’s middle support beam. From there, she used her beak to lift the metal latch of the handle. The door swung inwards and Heidi hopped down in a shower of feathers. “Shall we?”

Violet stepped tentatively beyond the open door, like a thief in the act of burglary. Her anxiety dissipated as her amber eyes beheld the garden. Bathed with gentle moonlight filtering through the wire roof, the garden appeared to be something out of a dream. Flowers of all kinds filled the space, some towering above and others sitting low to the ground. “Wow,” Violet whispered. “It’s beautiful.” She walked between the flower bed, taking in all the sweet scents. Violet took her time and admired each flower. She sat in front of the peonies the longest, trying to remember each minute detail of every tissue-thin petal. They were silent for the most part, but Heidi quietly supplied information about certain flowers when they reached them. “How do you know so much about flowers?” Violet asked.

“Mrs. May brings the girls and I in here every few weeks or so. We go around and eat any nasty bugs when we find them. But, you see, I’m one of her favorites, so she brings me in more often than the others. She’ll carry me around sometimes and tell me all about the flowers. So, I guess I listen. That is how I know so much.”

Violet nodded. “I think I learn more by doing.

“That's a fine way to learn too.” They meandered through the garden for a good while until they had looped their way back to the front.

“I could stay here forever,” Violet mused, “but I don’t want to overstay my visit. Guess it’s my turn, hmm? Meet me at the back, and I will take you to the river.” Heidi agreed. She replaced the latch while instructing Violet to pull the door shut. Once done, Violet ran to the back of the garden in time to watch Heidi squeeze through a loose spot where the wire met on the far right corner.

Heidi fluttered down. She met the fox’s eyes. ‘Tell no one.”

“I won’t,” Violet chuckled. “Let’s go.” They walked away from the garden and through the dimly lit field. When they made it to the fence line, where the field gave way to forest, Heidi stopped.

“I’ve never gone past the fence,” she said, a tremble in her voice. “If I go past here, it’ll be the farthest I’ve ever been from the farm in my life. What if I can’t get back?” Violet padded back to the hen. “And it's so dark in there.”

“I won’t let you get lost.” Violet turned around and raised her tail. “Hold onto my tail and I’ll guide you. The river isn’t far. Trust me.”

Heidi looked back at the farmhouse once more. Then she turned, grabbing onto the white tip of Violet’s tail without a word, and they were off. Violet moved carefully, guiding Heidi between the tree roots and rocks as they moved downhill. A few times, Violet felt Heidi bite her tail harder as they moved over some precarious terrain. The path leveled and the soft gurgle of water could be heard in the silence of the night. “Almost there,” Violet said. They kept on for a few minutes until they came to the river. It was wide and shallow, moving swiftly through the trees. The filtered moonlight played on the water, gently kissing each rivulet with a brush of silver.

Heidi gasped, “I think it’s beautiful,” she squinted up to the overhanging trees, “but I unfortunately can't see it all too well. The moon isn’t bright enough here.”

“Hold on.” Violet turned and ran through the tall grass on the riverbank. As she did so, fireflies jumped off the grass and into the air, illuminating the darkness. Using a half fallen tree and some boulders, Violet went to the other side of the river and did the same, causing the fireflies to rise into their twinkling dance over the water. The lights reflected like tiny lanterns in Heidi’s wide eyes. “Oh,” she clucked, “Oh my!” Violet returned to her side and couldn't keep the grin from her face at the hen’s amazement.

“This is better than I ever imagined it to be,” Heidi said in wonder. “This would…” She stopped. She stared into Violet's amber eyes as if trying to find some answer there. Coming to a decision, Heidi flapped down to the river's edge and settled into the soft sand. “I don’t have chicks of my own anymore,” she said softly. “I still lay eggs of course, but none will hatch. I’m an old hen, almost six, if you can believe it. So…it’s ok if you want to eat me now, Violet. I won’t run.”

From atop the bank, Violet stared down at the back of the little hen’s head. It would be easy, she knew. So very easy, and yet…“I don’t want to.” Heidi turned to look up at her. “I don’t want to eat you. You…I think you are my friend now.”

Heidi nodded. “I think you are my friend now too, Violet.” They lapsed into silence, the river filling the quiet between them. Violet sat on guard for a time. Satisfied that they were alone, she joined Heidi by lying down a few inches away from her. “Tell me more about your mother,” Heidi asked. “Tell me about all the flowers she liked.” The unlikely pair sat for hours in the moonlight, talking of flowers and years gone by as the river carried on its own gentle conversation. By the end of the night, they were sitting side by side.

~~~~~

“What? You’re leaving?

“I’m afraid so.” Violet lay low against the coop’s farthest edge away from the farm house and the barn so as not to be seen. It was three days later and the farm was bustling with activity. “Your Mrs. May seems to have put a trapper on my tail.”

“Then you shouldn’t be here.” Heidi said. She looked back to where Mrs. May was pruning the flowers in front of the house. “You should go before she sees you.”

“I know, I know, I just...I had to say goodbye.” A tractor roared by, causing Violet to flinch.

Hiedi looked sadly at the fox. “It’s a pity you must leave; I would very much have liked to converse with you more.”

“And I as well,” Violet said softly. “I want to introduce you to someone before I go though. Kits, come quietly like I taught you.” Two red fox kits appeared like smoke beside their mother, staring widely at the hen. “Heidi, these are my kits, Sorrel and Lupine.”

Heidi chuckled. “Carrying on your mother’s tradition I see! It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Hello.” Sorrel looked up at his mother. “Mum,” he asked in a failed whisper, “are we going to eat her?”

“Yeah,” said Lupine, “I’m hungry.”

“I’m afraid not,” Violet said gently, “This chicken is not for dinner. She is my friend.”

“Whatever you say, mum,” Lupine mumbled.

“Go wait by the trees, I will be there in a moment.” The two kits muttered confused goodbyes on their mother’s prompting, then moved stealthily back to the trees. “I need to go,” said Violet.

“I know,” said Heidi. They sat wordlessly, as some friends do when it’s time to say goodbye. “Will you remember me?”

“Of course. I don’t think I could forget you or our little excursion. You are a very clever hen.”

“And you are a very kind fox,” Heidi replied. “I think I’ll dream about that river every night from here on out.”

“That would make me very happy. And I…I’ll dream of the peonies. Goodbye, Hen Heidi.”

“Goodbye, Vixen Violet.”

Heidi watched until Violet was at the tree line. She turned, gave one last nod, then slipped into the forest’s shady embrace.

~~~~~

After so much excitement, the chicken coop seemed dull when it returned to its normal, quiet routines. The hens gained their confidence once more and came out of their coops freely to peck in the yard. When Mrs. May realized the fox had moved on, she allowed the chickens to free range in the farm grounds like they used to. As for Heidi, she would lead the hens on their weekly scavenging through the garden and, whenever they were in seasons, she would always stop to admire the peonies. And for the rest of her years, Heidi would tell the new hens the story of the night she had made the most unexpected of friends, of a garden at midnight, and a river lit by fireflies.