The Secret Chicken Society Read online




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  Haunted House, Haunted Mouse

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  THE

  SECRET CHICKEN

  SOCIETY

  by Judy Cox

  illustrated by

  Amanda Haley

  Holiday House / New York

  To my students.

  Thanks for all the chicken stories.

  Text copyright © 2012 by Judy Cox

  Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Amanda Haley

  All Rights Reserved

  HOLIDAY HOUSE is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

  www.holidayhouse.com

  ISBN 978-0-8234-3080-2 (ebook)w

  ISBN 978-0-8234-3081-9 (ebook)r

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Cox, Judy.

  The Secret Chicken Society / by Judy Cox ; illustrated by Amanda Haley, — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: When Daniel’s third-grade class raises baby chicks for a class project and he takes the five chickens home for the summer, he is surprised when one of them turns out to be a rooster.

  ISBN 978-0-8234-2472-9 (hardcover)

  [1. Chickens—Fiction. 2. Roosters—Fiction. 3. Family life—Fiction.]

  I. Haley, Amanda, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.C83835Se 2012

  [Fic]—dc22

  2011007273

  CONTENTS

  1. Don’t Count Your Chickens before They Hatch

  2. Which Came First—the Chicken or the Egg?

  3. Here a Chick, There a Chick, Everywhere a Chick, Chick

  4. Peepers

  5. Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

  6. The Great Escape

  7. A Little Problem in the Hen Hotel

  8. Pinkie Promise

  9. Nobody Here but Us Chickens

  10. Hen Party

  11. Jailbird

  12. The Chicken Dance

  Daniel’s Egg Journal

  Chapter 1

  DON’T COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY HATCH

  “Help!” yelled Katrina. “Fuzzy escaped!”

  “Not again!” said Mrs. Lopez, the third-grade teacher. She peered into Fuzzy’s empty tank and shuddered. She turned to her class and held up her hand. Everyone froze. “No one move,” she ordered, “until we find it.”

  Katrina and Sam ignored her. They scrambled up on top of their desks. “I can’t stand the thought of it crawling on me,” Katrina said. The other kids stayed still. No one wanted to step on Fuzzy.

  Daniel, Harry, and Mrs. Lopez hunted through the room, checking the dark corners where Fuzzy liked to hide.

  “Over here!” Harry called. He stood by the bookcase. He grabbed a book. “Want me to fix it so she doesn’t get out again?”

  “NO!” yelled Daniel.

  “I was only joking!” said Harry. He put the book down but made no move to pick Fuzzy up.

  “Daniel, would you mind?” asked Mrs. Lopez. Daniel reached down, scooped up the tarantula, and put her safely back into her tank. He set a rock on top of the wire to hold it down.

  Mrs. Lopez breathed a sigh of relief. Katrina and Sam climbed down from their desks. The other kids went back to work. Harry gave Daniel a high five. “That’s my man,” he said. “King of the wild!”

  Later that day, Mrs. Lopez called her third graders up to the rug.

  Daniel pushed his glasses up on his nose. He scrambled out of his seat. He slid into his spot on the rug, like a runner into first base. He liked Mrs. Lopez’s meetings. She was the best teacher in the third grade, even if she was scared of spiders. With her long brown hair and blue eyes, Daniel thought she was the prettiest teacher, too.

  “Our study of life cycles is almost over,” said Mrs. Lopez. “So I planned a grand finale.”

  What could it be? Daniel wondered. The class had already studied butterflies and caterpillars. A butterfly cage hung in one corner of the room. Three painted ladies crawled up the netting. The class would release them outside on the next sunny day. A tank of tadpoles sat on the counter. Soon they’d be frogs. Mrs. Lopez really liked animals. And so did Daniel.

  Mrs. Lopez waited for the buzz of excitement to die down. “I’ve ordered an incubator and twelve eggs.” She grinned. “We’re going to hatch chicks!”

  Daniel shot his hand into the air. He waved wildly. He wasn’t the only one with questions. Other students waved, too.

  “When will the eggs come?” asked Katrina.

  “How long do they take to hatch?” called Sam.

  “Will we have chickens?” Allison asked.

  “Can we eat them?” asked Harry. “I love fried chicken!” Max giggled. Fiona made gagging noises. Sam wrinkled his nose.

  “One at a time!” Mrs. Lopez said. “Daniel. You had your hand up. What’s your question?”

  “What will we do with the chicks?” Daniel had a gerbil named Speedy and a pet rat named Jasper at home, as well as a parakeet named Mr. Feathers. He also had a whole tank of guppies just waiting to be named. When he grew up, he wanted to be a vet. He sure would like to add a chick to his collection.

  “Good question,” said Mrs. Lopez. “We can’t start this project until we have good homes for each of the chicks. Of course, we don’t know how many eggs will hatch. Usually not every egg does, but we should plan for twelve chicks.”

  Daniel pictured twelve fluffy yellow chicks, peep-peep-peeping. He could keep them in his bedroom. He’d make them a nest in his room. They’d be company for his pets.

  Mrs. Lopez clapped her hands for quiet. “It takes twenty-one days for the eggs to hatch. We’ll raise the chicks for three weeks after that. So here’s the deal. If you want to take a chick home at the end of our study, bring two dollars and a note from your parents.”

  Daniel frowned. When he brought Jasper home, Mom had put her foot down. “No more animals!” So maybe twelve chicks was pushing it. But surely she wouldn’t mind one little fluffy chick? Just one?

  The recess bell rang. The kids lined up to go outside. Harry punched Daniel in the arm. “Bock-bock-bock!” he yelled, flapping his arms. He’d tied his sweatshirt around his neck like a cape. “Look at me! I’m Super Chicken!”

  Daniel pulled his hood up over his head. It looked like rain outside. “I’m going to ask my parents if I can have a chick when they hatch.”

  Katrina made a face. “Don’t count on it. My kindergarten class tried this. But the eggs didn’t hatch.”

  Max laughed. “Yeah, Daniel. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch!”

  The kids filed outside to play. Daniel was last. He didn’t care what Katrina or Max said. He would get a chick.

  He had two dollars left over from his birthday. But could he convince Mom to sign the note?

  Chapter 2

  WHICH CAME FIRST—THE CHICKEN OR THE EGG?

  As soon as the bus doors opened, Daniel jumped out. He lived in a small, normal-looking house between two bigger houses. Mom called them “mini-mansions.” They towered over Daniel’s home like castles.

  The grass in Daniel’s yard always needed mowing. It was always scattered with bikes and skateboards and toys. But the fancy houses had tidy lawns. They had carefully trimmed hedges and neat flower beds with no weeds.

  Miss Clay lived in the brown house next to Daniel. She usually worked in the city, but today s
he was out walking her two miniature poodles, Dot and Dash. Dot was black. Dash was white. Miss Clay followed, talking on her cell phone, her high heels clicking on the sidewalk.

  Daniel waved to her. “Guess what!” he called. “We’re going to hatch chicks at school, and I’m going to get one!”

  The poodles slipped off their leashes. They charged at Daniel, yipping and barking. Dot jumped up to lick Daniel’s face. He pushed the dog away, laughing. Dash put his paws on Daniel’s legs.

  “Down, boys. DOWN!” ordered Miss Clay. She trotted down the sidewalk toward them. “I’m sorry,” she told Daniel, panting a little as she snapped the leashes back on the dogs. “I just can’t make them behave.”

  “It’s okay,” said Daniel. “I like animals.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Grafalo lived on the other side of Daniel, in a big green house. Mr. Grafalo was in the front yard, pulling weeds out of his begonias. Mr. Grafalo had been a high school principal before he retired. Now he loved to garden. His roses won prizes at the state fair. Rain or shine, he was nearly always working in his yard when Daniel came home from the bus stop.

  Mr. Grafalo believed in rules and order. The kids called him “Mr. Gruffalo” behind his back, because he was so grouchy. He had often pounded on the Millers’ door, demanding that they get their bikes off his lawn. Or tear down the tree house that overlooked his backyard. Or cut down their wildflowers, which he called weeds.

  But Mrs. Grafalo had a sweet smile. She gave out king-sized candy bars on Halloween. Sometimes she baby-sat Daniel and his sisters after school. She always had homemade cookies and chocolate milk for them. Her house was full of pictures of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. They all lived far away. Daniel knew she missed them.

  Mrs. Grafalo was sitting on the front porch. She waved when she saw Daniel. “Come on up,” she called. “I just baked. I have a batch of gingersnaps to send home with you.”

  Daniel ran up the front steps and took the cookie tin. The smell made his mouth water. “Guess what, Mrs. G.?” he asked. “My class is going to hatch chicks! I’m going to get one!”

  “How lovely, dear,” said Mrs. Grafalo. “We always had chickens on the farm when I was a girl. I had a pet rooster named Edmund. He used to follow me around like a dog. I do hope you’ll bring your chick over to meet me.”

  “Humph!” said Mr. Grafalo from the begonias. He looked up, but didn’t smile. His bushy eyebrows looked fierce above his gold-rimmed glasses. “Chickens! They belong in the country! Or in a stew pot,” he added darkly.

  “Don’t mind him,” whispered Mrs. G. “Enjoy the cookies. When you bring back the tin, I’ll fill it again. Give my love to your family.”

  “Dinnertime!” called Dad.

  “Okay!” yelled Daniel. He was in his room playing with his pets. He lifted Jasper, his white rat, off his shoulder and put him back into his tank. Speedy, his gerbil, rolled past in his ball. Daniel scooped him up and put him into his cage. He held out his finger to Mr. Feathers, who sat chirping on the lamp. Mr. Feathers climbed aboard, and Daniel put him into the birdcage. Then he washed his hands and went down the hall.

  Daniel made his move at dinner. He knew he’d have to be cagey. Not come right out and ask.

  He started while Dad dished up the tofu meat loaf. Dad liked to cook vegetarian meals. He worked at home, running a website called “Eco-Dad.” Daniel thought it had something to do with recycling. Or the environment. Or both.

  “Last night I saw a TV show about keeping chickens in your backyard,” Daniel said. He handed a plate to Kelsey, his seven-year-old sister.

  Dad nodded. Dad, like Daniel, wore glasses. They steamed up as he spooned a scoop of lima beans onto Emmy’s plate. Emmy was four. She went to preschool.

  “I’ve heard about that,” Dad said. He took off his glasses. He cleaned them on his napkin. “People raise backyard chickens for the eggs.”

  Mom speared a slice of tofu meat loaf with her fork. Mom was an X-ray nurse. Her job kept her busy, but she tried to be home to eat dinner with the family every night. “Chickens are messy,” she said. She handed the meat loaf to Daniel.

  “No, really, Mom. It’s a good idea. They eat bugs that get in the vegetable garden,” Daniel said. He stirred his lima beans into his mashed turnips. He did not like lima beans. Stirring them into the turnips made them easier to eat.

  “Chickens are smelly,” said Mom. She unfolded a napkin and tucked it under Emmy’s chin.

  “Sustainable food,” said Dad, taking a bite of turnips. “Organic eggs. Eat local. Save money.” Dad’s eyes shone. Count on Dad to get excited about new ideas.

  “Yum. Fried chicken,” said Tyler. He talked with his mouth full. Trust Tyler. He was in middle school. He always had something snarky to say.

  “No!” said Kelsey. “Chickens could be pets. If we had chickens, we could name them.” Daniel smiled at her. Kelsey shared his love for animals, and for naming things.

  “Me too! I want chickens, too!” yelled Emmy, waving her spoon. She hit her glass of milk. It tipped over.

  Dad mopped up the spilled milk. “It’s something I’ve considered. Fresh eggs. Manure to fertilize the garden. And chickens keep the bugs down. Without toxic pesticides.”

  Good! Dad was on his side. Now it was time to convince Mom. “Mrs. Lopez said our class is going to hatch chicks. She said I could bring one home if I have two dollars and a note from my parents.” He looked at Mom and smiled a cheesy smile.

  Mom didn’t even blink. “No more animals,” she said, just like she always did. “Dad and I have enough to do with our jobs and with the four of you. And what about the pets you already own?”

  “I take care of them!” said Daniel. He thought about Jasper, Speedy, and Mr. Feathers. And his tank of guppies. Uh-oh. Had he remembered to feed them?

  “I fed your fish,” said Mom, as if she’d read his mind. “You forgot.”

  “That won’t ever happen again,” Daniel said. “Cross my heart. If you let me have a chick, I promise I’ll do all the work. You won’t have to do a thing.”

  “I want a chick, too,” said Kelsey.

  “Me too! Me too!” said Emmy, waving her spoon again.

  “If everyone else gets one, I want one, too,” said Tyler. He never liked being left out. “I’ll name mine Drumstick. Or maybe Egg Foo Yung!” He cracked himself up.

  “Chickens are noisy,” said Mom. “All that crowing in the early morning.”

  “Only the roosters crow,” Daniel pointed out. “We won’t have a rooster. We’ll have hens.”

  “We could have a club. The chicken club,” said Kelsey. She always wanted to start clubs.

  But Tyler snorted. “Chicken club. That’s a sandwich, dummy.”

  “Don’t call your sister names,” said Mom. “We live in the city,” she continued. “We can’t raise chickens in our backyard. Isn’t it against the law or something?”

  Tyler stopped chewing. “Hey. We talked about that in current events,” he said. “Portland changed the city laws to allow people to raise chickens in their backyards. Lots of people are doing it. Except you can’t have roosters because they wake people up.” Daniel was surprised that Tyler had been paying attention in class, but he appreciated the help.

  Mom didn’t look convinced, but Daniel could tell she’d started to waver.

  Dad took up the argument. “I think it’s a great idea. Once you taste a truly fresh egg, warm from the nest, you won’t be sorry.”

  “Please, Mom?” said Daniel.

  “Pretty please?” said Kelsey.

  “Pretty please with sugar on top?” said Emmy.

  Mom looked around the table. She sighed. “I know when I’m outvoted. But hear this: only one chick. Daniel will bring it home. Daniel will take care of it.” She turned to Daniel. “You’ll have to give it food and water every single day. And clean up all messes!”

  “Thank you, Mom!”

  “Don’t thank me yet. It will be a lot of work.” Then she smile
d and Daniel knew she wasn’t mad. “And one more thing,” she added. “No roosters!”

  Chapter 3

  HERE A CHICK, THERE A CHICK, EVERYWHERE A CHICK, CHICK

  Daniel jogged down the street to the bus stop. He didn’t want to be late. Not today. He had two dollars in his backpack. He also had a signed note from his parents, giving their permission to bring home one chick. If the eggs hatched.

  Mr. Grafalo was on his hands and knees, digging. His big orange cat sat on the front steps.

  As much as Daniel loved animals, somehow he couldn’t warm up to that cat. He looked like a giant orange fur ball. The cat’s real name was Pumpkin, but Daniel called him Poison because he was so mean. Even Miss Clay’s poodles were scared of him. They always hid when they saw him swagger down the street. The cat hissed at Daniel. Daniel glared back. He’d seen that cat in his backyard, stalking birds.

  “Good morning, Mr. Grafalo!” he yelled as he ran past.

  “Humph,” said Mr. Grafalo. “Good for somebody. Maybe.”

  Once in the classroom, Daniel was first in line to hand in his permission slip. Fourteen kids lined up behind Daniel. Uh-oh. Twelve eggs. Fifteen kids. Even if all the eggs hatched, three kids wouldn’t get chicks.

  “How will you decide?” Daniel asked Mrs. Lopez.

  Mrs. Lopez scratched her head. “We need to make it fair,” she said.

  “I handed my slip in first,” said Daniel. “So I should get the first chick.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention to what order the slips came in,” Mrs. Lopez admitted. She pointed to the pile on her desk. “I know! We’ll hold a drawing. I’ll put the slips in a jar. When the eggs hatch, we’ll count how many chicks we have. Then we’ll draw that many names. Each person whose name is drawn can pick out a chick.”

  Mrs. Lopez stacked all the slips. She slid them into a file folder. “Now that we have good homes arranged for each chick, I’ll order the eggs. In the meantime, let’s set up the incubator.”