Page 3 of How Does It Feel?

Thankfully I was usually with Cliff when we stopped, and he would quiet them up a bit. He hated Crazy Earl. I’d never formally met the town drunk, but I’d heard enough stories to write a book.

I mentally made a note to check the woods behind the gas station for Amanita muscaria. They were poisonous mushrooms that, if eaten in small enough quantities, might not kill you, but made you act crazy . . . like Crazy Earl. He was always in the woods out back of the old gas station. I was just about to turn around to inspect my hunch when a long-necked bundle of brown feathers shot out across the road in front of me.

The aging truck screeched to an abrupt halt, protesting with a puff of black smoke the size of an elephant and shutting off. Temperamental hunk of metal and bolts, it was worse than a man.

“Gosh dang it, Dorothy!” I slammed the truck door closed behind me as I walked across the dirt road to the turkey hen that forever stalked me.

Thankfully I was on the long driveway of the rehab center, so I would just deal with my dilapidated truck later. Dorothy was flopping around wildly in a patch of cattails like a toddler that had just escaped their parents’ clutches. She was lucky I hadn’t hit her with the truck and it was only her bum wing causing her to chaotically dance about like a poorly choreographed Zumba instructor.

I made sure no cars were coming, knowing they wouldn’t be because it was the back entrance to the wildlife rehabilitation center. I plopped down crisscross applesauce style on the dirty path and tried not to look at the smoking truck to my left. Maybe if I didn’t think about it too much, it would start up again.

No sooner had I sat on the dusty gravel road than I was accosted by the large adult turkey trying to nest in my lap. Happy squeaks and grumbles filled her long neck, and I couldn’t help but smile at the goofy bird as she nestled into me. She was one of my patients at the center. It wasn’t really in my job description to work on the animals, but with only one vet in the building, I ended up helping with the injuries more often than not. I didn’t mind; I much preferred the company of animals to people as it was.

“I was just coming to see you. You didn’t need to break free again. You’re lucky I didn’t run you down,” I chided as I nuzzled the beady-eyed turkey, tightening my hold on her body as the crunch of gravel sounded behind me.

I lifted the giant bird, being careful of her gimpy wing, and moved us out of the way. I didn’t bother to look up, assuming Cecelia had just come to look for her.

“You owe me five bucks,” crooned a male voice.

I knew before I looked at the game warden’s truck whose voice it was.

“I don’t owe you anything, Cliff Richards. If you’re stupid enough to bet with Cecelia, then you should owe me five dollars,” I said with a big smile and scooted over toward the gray Ford truck with the handsome man hanging out the window.

We couldn’t have looked more different in our khaki and green uniforms if we had tried. Mine hung over me like a too-big shirt I stole from my dad while on Cliff it clung to his athletic body like some L.L. Bean catalog model.

He peered over the top of his gold aviator sunglasses as he reached out to smooth down Dorothy’s neck feathers. She flustered and bobbed her head away but eventually let him pet her.

“Never seen anything like it,” he said matter-of-factly, a hundred-watt smile plastered to his unshaven face.

Sometimes he reminded me so much of my best friend from back home. Something about the friendly way he—I stopped myself.

I wouldn’t dredge up his memory now.

“Seen anything like what?” I asked and looked around us.

The amber glow of the sun had begun to heat, and little beads of sweat had started to collect at my hairline. I was ready to get Dorothy back inside the air conditioning or in the shade of the woods. It was going to be a hot one today, and the crevice between my boobs was already pooling uncomfortably with sweat.

“Like you, Callie. Everything wants to be with you, even the wild animals. You’re like a goddamn Disney princess.” He smiled, and the look he was giving insinuated that more than just the turkeys wanted to be with me.

I shifted uncomfortably and tried to think of how to politely tell him I’d rather date Dorothy than him. It wasn’t anything against him, he was a great friend. I just had no interest in being trapped in this town forever, and I was not in the habit of having relationships with coworkers.

“She’s hardly wild,” I said as I nuzzled the large bird.

She had been raised from a poult at the center, born with only one good wing. I was making great progress with her, though, and had a few more things I wanted to experiment with to fix her wing.

“I gotta get Dorothy inside, I’ll see you later?”

I began the walk toward the new building when I was cut off by the back of Cliff’s tailgate as he reversed the truck in stride with us.

“How you gonna get home, scientist? You gonna build a set of wings and fly home? That truck of yours is done for. I told you last month it was too dangerous to be driving.” He raised his eyebrows cockily as he continued to slowly back up, maintaining eye contact with me.

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t listen to everything you tell me to do,” I grumbled.

“Get in, I’ll give you two a ride back,” he said as he stopped the truck, blocking my path.

Dorothy flustered again once inside the truck, but it was a short drive up the road to the center, so I knew she’d be fine.

We pulled up to the back of the building two minutes later. The painted white brick beamed against the sunlight. Only two other cars were in the front parking lot, one being Cecelia’s. I got out of the truck to find I had turkey droppings all over my pants.