“I’m flying the coop!” Roberta the Chicken squawked, kicking her pen door open. “Using cheap plastic straw on the farm is the last straw! I’m getting away from Farmer Bosworth. I’m going to the Big City and leaving the Barnyard behind. Anyone brave enough can come with me! There’s probably more real straw in the city than this cheap farm.”
As Roberta strutted through the Barnyard, the animals popped their heads from their cages. Like most mornings, Farmer Bosworth paced through the Barnyard with his shotgun and cup of hot coffee with whisky.
“What? You’re going where? Why would you do that?” Olga the Pig snorted, making oinking sounds. “Farmer Bosworth is crazy mean, but do you really think the Big City is better?” grunted the pig.
“Once you get there, are you really going to stay?” Gobbler the Turkey gurgled, gobbling at the chicken.
“I’m losing my feathers in this Barnyard!” Roberta clucked. “I need to spread my wings and branch out!”
“If I go to the Big City, everyone will try to make me into a wool sweater,” Ezequiel the Sheep bleated.
“Yeah, they’ll try to make me into bacon, and Roberta into fried chicken!” Olga the Pig oinked, curling her tail.
“If you think that’s bad, the whole neighborhood will want milk from me,” Apple Dumplings the Cow mooed.
“Every Thanksgiving, the Pilgrims would try to make me into flaming turkey wings,” Gobbler the Turkey gobbled.
“After I’m used for goat cheese, I’d have to get out my horns and hooves to protect myself!” Nanny the Goat warned.
“I can stop traffic at a couple intersections, but after that I’m not sure what to do!” Stallion the Horse neighed.
“Please don’t leave! We’ll miss you,” hee-hawed Jack the Donkey. “We just might have to go with you . . .”
“What do you mean? Who exactly? We are going where?” Olga the Pig snorted. “I don’t want to end up in an omelet.”
“If Farmer Bosworth has anything to do with it, you might end up in an omelet anyhow, Olga,” Roberta clucked, sighing.
“Listen, I can’t stay here anymore, looking out the window and dreaming of the Big City,” the Chicken chirped. “I called Sam the Taxi Driver, and he’s coming any minute. If you want to pile in the car, go ahead. Maybe ride in the trunk!”
Everyone who knew Sam the Taxi Driver knew how much he hated the ruthless Farmer Bosworth.
“I grew up spending summers on my grandparents’ farm, and I loved their animals so much!” he told Roberta.
“I can’t stand the way Farmer Bosworth treats all of you! It’s almost like the struggle in Animal Farm by George Orwell. All animals are supposed to be created equal. I’m gonna have to get you outta here one day!”
So, it seemed to Roberta that there was no time like the present to take Sam’s offer to make the great escape.
“I can’t let you do this alone!” Jack the Donkey brayed, kicking the dirt, and swinging his tail at the flies.
“For all the times that Farmer Bosworth called me nasty names, I should have trampled him,” Jack eeyored.
“I’m leaving with Roberta,” the Donkey hee-hawed. “Who else is coming with us? Farmer Bosworth’s days are done!”
“Here comes the Big City!” the Barnyard animals cheered, taking last gulps of water and food from their troughs.
“Eat one more time for the hunger that comes!” Roberta the Chicken clucked, swallowing the last of her moldy hen feed.
As the fuming yellow taxi pulled up to the Barnyard, Sam the Taxi Driver swung open the passenger door.
The Barnyard Animals all piled in—Roberta, Gobbler, Ezequiel, Nanny, Olga, and Jack, until there was no more room.
“I’m taking the trunk,” mooed Apple Dumplings the Cow, who kicked it open. “I’ll have a good view of the road!”
“I’m guess I’ll have to run beside you,” whinnied Stallion the Horse. “I’m too big for the taxi!”
“Ouch! I’m caught!” Olga oinked, as Sam shut the taxi door, catching her curly tail in the door.
“Roberta, you didn’t tell me that the Barnyard was coming with you!” Sam said, freeing Olga’s tail. “The price tripled!”
“Don’t worry!” Roberta clucked. “I swiped some money from Farmer Bosworth. You’ll have an extra big tip!”
“Wait a minute!” yelled Farmer Bosworth, slamming his home’s screen door and running toward the taxi with his gun.
“Where are y’all going?” he screamed. “What about my eggs, Roberta? You can’t leave me here alone in the Barnyard!”
“Leave before Farmer Bosworth shoots his shot gun!” Roberta squawked. “I’ll give you the money! Get us out of here!”
As the taxi driver peeled out of the Barnyard, Farmer Bosworth shot his smoking gun toward the animals.
“He was always a bad shot!” Roberta chirped to the taxi driver, emptying all her money on his front seat. Baam! Psssst! The taxi slumped to the side, as the right back tire was hit by one of Farmer Bosworth’s bullets.
“Who cares if the taxi is hit? We can still make it to the Big City! It’s just a bump and slump!” Roberta clucked.
“What did you get me into?” the taxi driver cussed, adjusting his hat. “You’re buying me a new tire in the Big City.”
“I’ll find you in the Big City!” Farmer Bosworth threatened, shooting his last bullet from his shotgun. “Mark my words! You might get away from me for now, but I’m bringing you back to the Barnyard! The Big City is full of creeps!”
“You’re the creep!” Roberta clucked. “Who would shoot a shot gun at a taxi full of animals? Someone could get hurt!”
“He looks pretty serious!” Apple Dumplings the Cow mooed from the trunk. “We’re going to have to hide out.”
“I have friends in the Big City,” the Taxi Driver mumbled, rolling down the window to let in some fresh air. “I’ll find you a place to live, but you’ll have to freshen up first, and you can’t eat the neighbors’ potted plants.”
“I’ve heard that I should stay away from the holes in the streets,” Roberta chirped. “Potholes? Do plants grow there?”
“Oh, I’ll have to teach you everything I know,” Sam the Taxi Driver sighed. “At least you’ll get away from that farmer.”
Thus started the days of Roberta the Chicken and the Barnyard Animals’ hilarious adventures in the Big City. Of course, Farmer Bosworth followed them all over the City with his shotgun, but he was never able to catch them.
Sam the Taxi Driver had too many friends in low and high places in the Big City—and soon so did Roberta the Chicken and her friends.
Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters
Dedicated to Great Uncle Robbie Moyer, who had many chickens and barnyard animals.
https://soundcloud.com/jen-waters/barnyard-animals-and-the-big-city
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