On a Night Like This

I began this account last month sometime, when a blog hop I frequent gave the challenge of a writing prompt. The opening sentence was “On a Night Like This”.

On a night like this, all I can do is shake my head.

It was a dark and stormy night. I know what you’re thinking, but it really was!

I closed the door behind me and walked out into the night. Ahead of me, the night nurse hurried to her car and opened the trunk. Rain splattered down on us as we quickly transferred the cargo from her trunk to my van.

Carefully she stacked the crates, lining the van with an old pad first. Hurried instructions, quick tips, and it was over. I closed the door, and she returned to work, me to my van.

What had I just done?

I grabbed some sanitizing oil from my purse and slathered it on my hands. Plucking a dry wet wipe from the console, I moistened it with a splash from a water bottle and rubbed it around. Good enough, I thought as I washed my hands clean.

Great! Gas tank is on empty. Gonna have to make a stop. I think I need a snack.

I grabbed the rest of my crackers from lunch and nervously crammed a handful in. *Dry!* Thankful for the few swallows of almond milk from my breakfast, I washed that down and rummaged around for some apples.

Found a kids tray of bite-sized fruit that fit the bill nicely. As I downed the grapes, I heard rustling from the back. Throwing the van into gear, I sped down the road, away from work.

Glancing at my gas light, I just hoped I could make it to the station.

Nervously, I drove on, keeping my eye on the gas gauge, as it hovered at the lowest point.

Gotta make it there, can’t run out in this weather with this load, I mumbled to myself.

I made it to the nearest station, coasting in to rest my van at the pump. I filled the tank, and pressed on my way, aware of the faint tapping I heard from the trunk.

I hurried on toward home, no other stops prolonging my trip. Through the many puddles and mud, I finally pulled into our driveway.

Now what? I can’t unload these boxes in this rain! What am I going to do? But I really couldn’t wait til morning either. As of to confirm this fact, a faint squeaking sounded from within one of the crates. Oh, Boy!

Let me see, she said just take them into the woods and open the boxes. But we had not planned on rain to complicate matters. No, that would not be a good idea on a night like this.

My family greeted me curiously, seeing my conflicted expression on my entering our home.

“Did you bring them?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure what we should do with them. I don’t think it’s wise to keep them out here. Too dangerous.

My family nodded in agreement, but no one offered a solution.

How do I get myself into these situations? Unfortunately, this is a question I often have to ask of myself.

Well…the experienced people say that it’s too much risk without protection. No sense in sacrificing them to the elements. I don’t feel right about it, even though some day we might be ready to handle these.

My family agreed.

We have wild animals—coyotes, bears, cougars, and even raccoons and possums out in our woods. They’d love a tasty dinner, but we weren’t gonna offer that so easily.

It’s pouring cats and dogs, so we need to wait til morning anyway. We have to leave them for now.

The morning brought cheerful noises at the crack of dawn, and I ruefully remembered our responsibility. Somehow I convinced Andrew to drive them down to the neighbor’s house to offer them for free. It was worth a shot, anyway!

Upon his arrival to Sylvia’s little farm, chickens clucked, roosters crowed, and goats bleated. And yes, the friendly donkeys sauntered over. Andrew momentarily wondered if we could even just slip them into her mix unnoticed, but we wouldn’t really do that.

“Whatcha got in the crates?” Sylvia asked. Sylvia is almost always outdoors.

“Orphans. They need a home. Know anyone?”

“Well, let’s see them.”

Andrew lifted the lids off the crates, a loud rustling began, followed by a a lusty cockadoodledoo!

“Feisty fellers, aren’t they? Oh, sure! What’s a few more friends? I’ll take them and they can live here with my flock!”

That was easy.

When Andrew drove up the driveway, I met him at the door.

Well? I asked What happened?

“She took them all!”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. Because even though we might like to try a little flock of chickens some day, that day was not the day. I could now rest easy, knowing that this little flock was safe from predators, happily living at Sylvia’s neighborhood farm!