Beholding Bee by Kimberly Newton Fusco Page A

lady!”
    A harsh voice is so out of place here that Peabody and I both jump at the same time and Peabody’s head hits my chin. Quick as a wink, I pull my hair tight over my diamond.
    A woman stands out by the gate, a small black-and-white chicken in her arms. “Yes, you! I’m talking to you.”
    The woman is tall, with a thin neck and hair twisted high and tight. She has more gray hair than Ellis but not nearly as much as Mrs. Swift or Mrs. Potter, and not half as many wrinkles.
    The chicken clucks and struggles in her arms. “Don’t you think you’re getting away again, you naughty little hen,”says the woman, squeezing the hen tighter. This makes the chicken squawk louder. I look at Peabody. He is looking at the chicken.
    One thing I learned from Ellis is you don’t take up with just anybody who comes asking questions. I head for the door.
    “Can’t you hear me talking to you? Are you deaf or something? I said what are you doing up there?”
    The warning light inside me is going on and off, on and off. I check my hair. I want Pauline.
    The lady fiddles with the latch on the gate while she is holding the chicken. This crushes the chicken and it squawks and gets a wing loose. The lady stuffs the wing back under her arm.
    The chicken thrashes, screaming, “Brawk-ack.”
    This is more than Peabody can take. He barrels to the very edge of the porch and yips and yaps. He gets himself in such a lather about the chicken he jumps into the air, slips, flips over, struggles, and jumps up again, never for a second stopping his yapping.
    The woman takes a step back. “Well,” she says to her chicken. “He’s not very friendly, is he?”
    “Brawk-ack!” the chicken shrieks, struggling to get its wing loose.
    “Shush,” I tell Peabody, rushing over and picking him up. He won’t stop barking, even when he is in my arms, and he just about tips me over, he is so excited about the chicken. It is very hard to hold him and my hair at the same time. While I try to get my hair to cover my diamond, Peabody breaks free and jumps out of my arms and barks furiously.
    “What a racket,” the lady says, trying to hold on to her bird.
    “Peabody, knock it off.” I have to let go of my hair for a minute to pick him up. When I look up, the woman is staring at my face. I brace myself for what is coming, for the look I get when somebody has seen something they did not know they would get to see.
    “Well,” she says, eyeing me and taking a step closer. She opens her mouth and shuts it. Peabody is still barking. I back toward the door.
    “I was out looking for my missing chicken here when I saw you on the porch. I live at the farm down the road. I am Mrs. Theodore Marsh. I keep an eye on the place for the old gentleman who owns this house. He lives in Florida now in a rest home. This porch is not for just anybody who feels like coming up and sitting here.”
    Peabody squirms and I squeeze him tighter. “I am waiting for my aunts,” I say finally, not sure how to describe Mrs. Swift and Mrs. Potter. I look behind me, wondering where they are.
    “Well, you can just do your waiting someplace else.”
    “I mean I am waiting for my aunts who live here.” I look back toward the house.
    “Nonsense, nobody lives here. You have the wrong house.”
    Peabody has gotten very quiet. He is watching the chicken to see what it will do next. I breathe out deeply, just like Pauline taught me for when things get troubled, then in again, then out. I am getting a little dizzy from all the breathing. I am also getting a little worried about the things the lady is saying.
    A bee buzzes around the chicken and it clucks andsquawks and brawk-acks and the lady has to stop paying attention to me so she can get her chicken calmed down again.
    Finally, she says, “I didn’t know any aunts had moved in and I didn’t know there was a child visiting, or a funny-looking dog.”
    I want to cover Peabody’s ears so he won’t hear the awful things the lady is