I lost my armor. But today brought a stranger to the meadow.
It watched me. I felt naked. I am naked.
It climbed over the fence. My chest thudded.
A box covered its face, aimed at me. Beeps and clicks turned every head. Was it calling for me? Was I next?
I left the flock. I startled the stranger.
Shaking off an itch, I heard rapid beeps and clicks. I stopped. They stopped. I shook again, more vigorously. They resumed. The stranger inched closer and moved the box from horizontal to vertical to horizontal to vertical…
As dusk faded, the stranger walked to its metal box and left.
Alive, I snuck back into the flock. Unnoticed.
The stranger returned at dawn with a three-legged thing, some bags and the box around its neck.
I stared at the stranger staring back at me.
Circling. Hunting. Adjusting. The stranger stopped and aimed. Beeps only. Disappointing. Why no clicks to finish the beat?
I nonchalantly approached the scattered litter and the clicking resumed.
Music. What else was I missing?
Thirty feet. That was enough.
I stretched my back right leg out westward. In a blink, the rapid beeps and clicks resumed. I put my leg down and repeated with the left. The stranger began hunting again. The beat returned.
I almost toppled over as I turned only my head to follow the stranger. My leg, half asleep, regained its composure. The beat stopped. Move, beep, mostly click, except for the beginning. I must remember.
Dusk. The stranger left.
Dawn. The stranger arrived early.
I moved more smoothly towards him. He simply sat and watched.
I’m ten feet closer than yesterday.
He circled me then lay down. The beeps and clicks resumed. He rolled onto his back. He even climbed a dead tree and clicked from there. His face was wet and so was his body. Why was he so excited? Why was I?
Yesterday the legs provided the beat, so I stayed with them. I hopped my front legs. Nothing. He stood there staring at me. I waited. Nothing. I hopped again. Movement. Clicks. And a cackling sound, sort of like the one I make. I showed more face. More leg.
Closer. Comfortable. The beeps and clicks faded. He didn’t look away. I’m no longer afraid. No longer nervous.
I squeezed sounds from every end and bucked.
I gathered myself early hoping he would arrive at dawn. He arrived before I finished my breakfast. He lobbed his bags and rods and himself over the fence. The flock’s ears barely flapped.
With a beating chest I ran toward him. I whipped east before I crashed into him, meaning to circle again — but stopped eye to eye. A few feet between us.
I went for the clincher I’d practiced all night. The left back leg shot west, the right east and the front both headed north. A tricky landing. No beeps, no clicks. Disappointment?
I looked at his eyes, wider than I remembered, and his skew-whiff smile. He sat down squarely on a patty and waited. I repeated the display. A festival of sounds: beeps, clicks and cackling. A pleasure matched only by food and the mating season. An arrival.
I caught an unusual smell — nothing like the flock, nothing like the patty. I moved closer.
He was sitting. Watching. I lay beside him, slowly. We watched the flock. He held a long yellow thing to my mouth. Food possibly. I bit, I spat. Not food. He crumpled and cackled. I wish I had more things to spit. Friends?
He patted my head. I felt the warmth. I rolled onto my back. He rubbed my belly.
We stared at nothing, enjoying everything. The sun was high when my friend packed up and left. I returned to the flock feeling brand new.
Dawn came and went. I was restless. The sun started to drop when my friend arrived. He scaled the fence — no bags, no box, no three-legged thing. I approached. He greeted me with an extended arm and I pressed against it.
We sat in the shade, watching the flock. He ate. I ate.
I felt his head on my shoulder. Too brief. He rose, jumped the fence, entered the box, and left.
I stayed there for many hours wondering. My belly grumbled for longer than was prudent. I headed back to the flock.
The days passed without him. The weather changed.
Over the fence, as boxes passed, one large box stopped. On its side a passenger stretched.
As the large box rolled away, a stranger was leaning on the fence. A feeling of warmth, like when I still had my armor. I threw a leg westward.
The stranger chuckled.
The stranger left in his box. I turned and walked back to my flock.