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He shook his head and pretended to confide； “He needs a tree。 Or a leg。” He grinned at me。
“Wanna volunteer yours？”
I backed away a little。 I could just see that monster try to swallow my leg whole as an after…
egg chaser。 “N…no！”
He laughed and pointed at the boa slithering across the room。 “Aw； too bad。 He's going the
other way。 He's gonna use the piano instead！”
The piano！ What kind of snake was this？ How could my sister stand being in the same room
as these dementos？ I looked at her； and even
though she was pretending to be cool with the snake； I know Lyta — she was totally
creeped out by it。
……… Page 22………
The snake wrapped itself around the piano leg about three times； and then Matt…or…Mike put
his hands up and said； “Shhh！ Shhh！ Everybody
quiet。 Here goes！”
The snake stopped moving； then flexed。 And as it flexed； we could hear the eggs crunch
inside him。 “Oh； gross！” the girls wailed。 “Whoa； dude！”
the guys all said。 Mike and Matt smiled at each other real big and said； “Dinner is served！”
I tried to act cool about the snake； but the truth is I started having bad dreams about the thing
swallowing eggs。 And rats。 And cats。
And me。
Then the real…life nightmare began。
One morning about two weeks after the boa show in Skyler's garage； Juli appears on our
doorstep； and what's she got in her hands？ A halfcarton
of eggs。 She bounces around like it's Christmas； saying； “Hiya； Bryce！ Remember Abby and
Bonnie and Clyde and Dexter？ Eunice and
Florence？”
I just stared at her。 Somehow I remembered Santa's reindeer a little different than that。
“You know … my chickens？ The ones I hatched for the science fair last year？”
“Oh； right。 How could I forget。”
“They're laying eggs！” She pushed the carton into my hands。 “Here； take these！ They're for
you and your family。”
“Oh。 Uh； thanks；” I said； and closed the door。
I used to really like eggs。 Especially scrambled； with bacon or sausage。 But even without the
little snake incident； I knew that no matter what you
did to these eggs； they would taste nothing but foul to me。 These eggs came from the
chickens that had been the chicks that had hatched from the
eggs that had been incubated by Juli Baker for our fifth…grade science fair。
It was classic Juli。 She totally dominated the fair； and get this — her project was all about
watching eggs。 My friend； there is not a lot of action to
report on when you're incubating eggs。 You've got your light； you've got your container；
you've got some shredded newspaper； and that's it。 You're
done。
Juli； though； managed to write an inch…thick report； plus she made diagrams and charts —
I'm talking line charts and bar charts and pie charts —
about the activity of eggs。 Eggs！
She also managed to time the eggs so that they'd hatch the night of the fair。 How does a
person do that？ Here I've got a live…action erupting
volcano that I've worked pretty stinking hard on； and all anybody cares about is Juli's chicks
pecking out of their shells。 I even went over to take a
look for myself； and — I'm being pletely objective here — it was boring。 They pecked for
about five seconds； then just lay there for five minutes。
I got to hear Juli jabber away to the judges； too。 She had a pointer — can you believe that？
Not a pencil； an actual retractable pointer； so she
could reach across her incubator and tap on this chart or that diagram as she explained the
excitement of watching eggs grow for twenty…one days。
The only thing she could've done to be more overboard was put on a chicken costume； and
buddy； I'm convinced — if she'd thought of it； she would
have done it。
But hey — I was over it。 It was just Juli being Juli； right？ But all of a sudden there I am a year
later； holding a carton of home…grown eggs。 And I'm
having a hard time not getting annoyed all over again about her stupid blue…ribbon project
when my mother leans out from the hallway and says；
“Who was that； honey？ What have you got there？ Eggs？”
I could tell by the look on her face that she was hot to scramble。 “Yeah；” I said； and handed
them to her。 “But I'm having cereal。”
……… Page 23………
She opened the carton； then closed it with a smile。 “How nice！” she said。 “Who brought them
over？”
“Juli。 She grew them。”
“Grew them？”
“Well； her chickens did。”
“Oh？” Her smile started falling as she opened the carton again。 “Is that so。 I didn't know she
had… chickens。”
“Remember？ You and Dad spent an hour watching them hatch at last year's science fair？”
“Well； how do we know there're not … chicks inside these eggs？”
I shrugged。 “Like I said； I'm having cereal。”
We all had cereal； but what we talked about were eggs。 My dad thought they'd be just fine —
he'd had farm…fresh eggs when he was a kid and
said they were delicious。 My mother； though； couldn't get past the idea that she might be
cracking open a dead chick； and pretty soon discussion
turned to the role of the rooster — something me and my Cheerios could've done without。
Finally Lyta said； “If they had a rooster； don't you think we'd know？ Don't you think the
whole neighborhood would know？”
Hmmm； we all said； good point。 But then my mom pipes up with； “Maybe they got it de…
yodeled。 You know — like they de…bark dogs？”
“A de…yodeled rooster；” my dad says； like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard。 Then
he looks at my mom and realizes that he'd be way
better off going along with her de…yodeled idea than making fun of her。 “Hmmm；” he says；
“I've never heard of such a thing； but maybe so。”
Lyta shrugs and says to my mom； “So just ask them； why don't you。 Call up Mrs。 Baker
and ask her。”
“Oh；” my mom says。 “Well； I'd hate to call her eggs into question。 It doesn't seem very polite；
now； does it？”
“Just ask Matt or Mike；” I say to Lyta。
She scowls at me and hisses； “Shut up。”
“What？ What'd I do now？”
“Haven't you noticed I haven't been going down there； you idiot？”
“Lyta！” my mom says。 Like this is the first time she's heard my sister talk to me or
something。
“Well； it's true！ How can he not have noticed？” “I was going to ask you about that； honey。 Did
something happen？”
Lyta stands up and shoves her chair in。 “Like you care；” she snaps； and charges down to
her room。
“Oh； boy；” my dad says。
Mom says； “Excuse me；” and follows Lyta down the hall。
When my mother's gone； my dad says； “So； son； why don't you just ask Juli？”
“Dad！”
“It's just a little question； Bryce。 No harm； no foul。”
“But it'll get me a half…hour answer！”
He studies me for a minute； then says； “No boy should be this afraid of a girl。”
“I'm not afraid of her…！”
“I think you are。”
“Dad！”
“Seriously； son。 I want you to get us an answer。 Conquer your fear and get us an answer。”
“To whether or not they have a rooster？”
“That's right。” He gets up and clears his cereal bowl； saying； “I've got to get to work and
you've got to get to school。 I'll expect a report tonight。”
Great。 Just great。 The day was doomed before it had started。 But then at school when I told
Garrett about what had happened； he just shrugged
and said； “Well； she lives right across the street from you； right？”
“Yeah； so？”
……… Page 24………
“So just go look over the fence。”
“You mean spy？”
“Sure。”
“But … how can I tell if one of them's a rooster or not？”
“Roosters are …I don't know… bigger。 And they have more feathers。”
“Feathers？ Like I've got to go and count feathers？”
“No； stupid！ My mom says that the male's always brighter。” Then he laughs and says；
“Although in your case I'm not so sure。”
“Thanks。 You are giving me big…time help here； buddy。 I really appreciate it。”
“Look； a rooster's going to be bigger and have brighter feathers。 You know； those long ones
in the back？ They're redder or blacker or whatever。
And don't roosters have some rubbery red stuff growing off the top of their head？ And some
off their neck； too？ Yeah； the rooster's got all sorts of
rubbery red stuff all around its face。”
“So you're saying I'm supposed to look over the fence for big feathers and rubbery red stuff。”
“Well； e to think of it； chickens have that rubbery red stuff； too。 Just not as much of it。”
I rolled my eyes at him and was about to say； Forget it； I'll just ask Juli； but then he says； “I'll
e with you if you want。”
“Seriously？”
“Yeah； dude。 Seriously。”
And that； my friend； is how I wound up spying over the Bakers' back fence with Garrett
Anderson at three…thirty that afternoon。 Not my choice of
covert operations； but a necessary one in order to report back to my dad that night at dinner。
We got there fast； too。 The bell rang and we basically charged off campus because I figured
if we got to the Bakers' quick enough； we could look
and leave before Juli was anywhere near her house。 We didn't even drop off our backpacks。
We went straight down the alley and started spying。
It's not really necessary to look over the Bakers' fence。 You can see almost as well looking
through it。 But Garrett kept sticking his head up； so I
figured I should too； although in the back of my mind I was aware that Garrett didn't have to
live in this neighborhood — I did。
The backyard was a mess。 Big surprise。 The bushes were out of control； there was some
kind of hodgepodge wood…and…wire coop off to one
side； and the yard wasn't grass； it was highly fertilized dirt。
Garrett was the first to notice their dog； sacked out on the patio between two sorry…looking
folding chairs。 He points at him and says； “You think
he's going to give us trouble？”
“We're not going to be here long enough to get in trouble！ Where are those stupid chickens？”
“Probably in the coop；” he says； then picks up a rock and throws it at the mess of plywood
and chicken wire。
At first all we hear is a bunch of feathers flapping； but then one of the birds es fluttering
out。 Not very far； but enough so we can see it's got
feathers and rubbery red stuff。
“So？” I ask him。 “Is that a rooster？”
He shrugs。 “Looks like a chicken to me。”
“How can you tell？”
He shrugs again。 “Just does。”
We watch it scratching at the dirt for a minute； and then I ask； “What's a hen； anyway？”
“A hen？”
“Yeah。 You got roosters； you got chickens； and then there's hens。 What's a hen？”
“It's one of those；” he says； pointing into the Bakers' backyard。
“Then what's a chicken？”
He looks at me like I'm crazy。 “What are you talking about？”
“Chickens！ What's a chicken？”
……… Page 25………
He takes a step back from me and says； “Brycie boy； you are losin' it。 That's a chicken！” He
stoops down to pick up another rock； and he's just
about to let it fly when the sliding…glass door to the back patio opens up and Juli steps
outside。
We both duck。 And as we're checking her out through the fence； I say； “When did she get
home？”
Garrett grumbles； “While you were losing it about chickens。” Then he whispers； “But hey；
this'll work great。 She's got a basket； right？ She's
probably ing out to collect eggs。”
First she had to get all mushy with that mangy mutt of hers。 She got down and nuzzled and
ruffled and patted and hugged； telling him what a good
boy he was。 And when she finally let him go back to sleep； she had to stop and coo at the
bird Garrett had scared out； and then she started singing。
Singing。 At the top of her lungs； she goes； “I've got sunshine on a cloudy day。 When it's
cold outsi…ye…yide； I've got the month of May。 I guess
you'd say； what can m