1st Place Winner
Turkey Talk Contest
Chosen Dinner
By Bonny
(Age 15)
Copyright © 2000
Water hisses and steam rises vaporously from pots containing various liquids. Muted laughter and muffled chatter filter into the busy, bubbling kitchen. And in a far away isolated corner sits, a happily humming turkey by the name of Gobbler. Little does he know what fate has in store for him this eventful Thanksgiving dinner.
Gobbler had always known that he was to serve a much higher purpose in life. He knew that he was no ordinary turkey. Oh, no sir. When he was but a tiny chick, he spent his time eating constantly. For you see, he was deeply religious, unlike those other rebellious teenage turkeys. He knew that only a Chosen few were selected to Ascend into Fowleaven. And the Day of Holy Ascension came only once a year: Thanksgiving. And so, he committed himself to the pursuit of spirituality, in hopeful wait of the not-so-distant day HE would be chosen. He read his Gobbible daily, he ate all his vegetables and seeds without complaint, and he listened to his Momma Peahen always.
Once in the youthful years of yesterday, Gobbler had waddled outside on Thanksgiving Eve and spied upon part of the Ascension ritual through the clear glass windows. He knew he wasn't allowed to, really… but it simply was just too good of an opportunity! And before conscience could rear its ugly head, his attention was diverted to the creaking of the opening door. Excitement mounted… The Man-with-the-sharpie had entered the Room where the lucky turkey awaited in gleeful anticipation. The Man had just tied the customary holy white robe to his front to begin the ritual… when the elders had discovered him. They had put up such a ruckus, that poor Gobbler had had no choice but to reluctantly hop down from the sill. Wistfully, he tried to glance back, but the drapes had already been firmly shut sometime during the spectacle… effectively closing him out. The elders had then marched Guilty Gobbler right back home to an utterly distraught Momma Peahen. She had pecked him mercilessly and squawked almost incoherently for disturbing such a sacred rite. Thoroughly chastised after an uncomfortably long lecture, Gobbler solemnly swore to Momma Peahen never to disobey the wisdom of his elders again. Nevertheless, from then on, the elders had kept a much more firm watch on him, especially as the holidays drew closer.
And so, Gobbler had gone on dedicatedly eating… always eating. This, he'd heard, was the sure way to be Chosen. Admittedly, he didn't understand the logic himself, but what he lacked in enlightenment, he compensated for in plentiful faith. Perhaps, he reasoned, this was merely a test of devotion. No matter. In a few years, Gobbler had chunked up so huge that the other jealous biddies had started to cruelly tease him. Granted, this had ruffled his feathers, but he'd determinedly smiled inside, chanting mentally: 'Just you all wait!' And sure enough… on the fateful year of 1999, Gobbler, dear Plumb Gobbler, would be Chosen to Ascend.
Gobbler had watched anxiously as the Man walked over to their humble turkey pens. The Man's gaze briefly swept past each of them until, finally, after 10 excruciating, ticking seconds, settling on: GOBBLER!! Gobbler quivered in ecstatic disbelief. Could it be?? The Man leaned down; Gobbler stretched up his neck. And… YES! The Man lifted him up, up, and higher! Gobbler was officially Chosen. All the other turkeys had stopped what they were doing to witness this miracle. The elders had smiled benevolently. And Momma Peahen had beamed radiantly; gargling sobbingly, as mothers will tend to do in moments of ultimate triumph. Of course, unbeknownst to the worshipful fowls, their rejoicing event had gone unnoticed by the Man: unnoticed, and unmarked.
And so it was that Gobbler entered The Room. And so it had come to pass. Gobbler now sat, reflecting and reminiscing, moments away from ascension. He heaved a blissful sigh. For truly, this year, he was thankful. More than that, he was Chosen. Then… the knob squeaked. Gobbler quickly whipped his head toward the door, bouncing impatiently. The Man-with-the-sharpie entered… finally! And, as the Man approached him steadily, sharpie glinting, Gobbler reverently and silently declared: 'Happy Thanksgiving everyone!'
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