Tom Turkey

Turkey Day

By Jerry Paulsen

Author’s note: This story was originally written in 2015 as a writing exercise at a Lost State Writers Guild meeting. It has been revised a few times.

Tom looked around—he was the only turkey left. He wondered where all the other turkeys had gone, but in his heart he knew. They were the main course at someone’s Thanksgiving dinner. He had been cautioning them about the free food since they were little. It seemed like years, but turkey years are even shorter than dog-years, and it had only been seven months since they arrived at the farm. They were teeny-tiny poults back then but when they grew to about twenty pounds they always disappeared.

Tom was the only resister. When farmer Joe had insisted they all eat the free food Tom found ways to scrounge around and found wild seeds and dead bugs to eat. He did this because he knew in his heart that anything free couldn’t be worth as much as anything he worked for. The side effects of his lifestyle were that he was slimmer than the other turkeys who grew fat eating the unlimited supply of free food, and he was stronger.

He sadly shook his head. He warned them but they didn’t listen. Now he was all alone, except for farmer Joe, of course.

Just then the farmer walked into the yard. “Tom,” he said, “you’re next, ya gotta go.”

Tom had sensed a moment like this would come. He knew this was it. It was now or never.

Pretending he hadn’t heard, Tom turned away and nonchalantly walked to the furthest corner of the yard. He had thought about this several times and hoped he was ready. He turned again, and putting his head down, began running back toward the opposite corner. His wings flapping like crazy, raising a cloud of dust behind. He gasped for breath and thought he might not make it, but just then he became airborne and cleared the fence by a few inches.

To his joy he discovered staying aloft was easier than taking off. Yes, he thought, freedom is much better than free food.

“There’s always one,” said farmer Joe to his wife.

Later that day while farmer Joe was unloading crates full of teeny-tiny poults from the back of his truck he noticed two large birds soaring high in the sky. He knew one was a bald eagle, he’d see every so often. As they approached the farmer shielded his eyes from the sun and peered up at the birds. The other, was . . .was. . .a turkey.

As the two birds swooped down over the yard farmer Joe was sure he could hear them laughing.