Rooster is as Rooster Does
Chapter One: Billie Jean
The phone rang at 11 pm. She fumbled through the empty cans of Hamms beer and old lottery tickets on her kitchen table for her phone. Maybe it was Daryl. It had been six months since she heard from him and today would've been their second anniversary. But it was just her older sister Barbara Jo.
"Billie Jean, how are you? I know today was your second anniversary."
"I am alright, just sitting here listening to the radio, watching the bug zapper and thinking about Daryl. I really miss him."
"I keep telling you that you gotta forget that loser. Him running off with that hoochie koochie woman is just a low down dirty thing to do. You deserve better than him. I know someone you should meet. His name is Bubba and he is a good Christian."
"Barby Jo, I ain't in no mood to go a datin' yet. I done told you that already."
"But you can take it slow. He's a trucker so he ain't around too much. You know you could use some company now and then to help your achin' heart. You are young and pretty still. It's a shame that you are just a wasting away in that trailer all lonely by yourself."
"I done told you, sis, I ain't ready for datin'. I ain't interested in no truckers either. You know I work at the truck stop diner. The last thing I want to do is come home after a long day at work to a greasy trucker. They ain't good for nothing, them truckers. Now lay off!"
"Sorry, Billie Jean. Just think 'bout it, that's all. By the way, how's ol' Cannonball?"
Billie Jean pulled out another Marlboro Menthol Light cigarette out and lit it from the butt of the one still burning. "Oh, Cannonball. He done just lay down and died the other day. He done tree his last coon. He was old, don't you know. Now he's in Doggy Heaven. I burried him underneath the ol' oak tree by the tire swing."
"Oh, I am just so sorry to hear that, Billy Jean. He sure was a good doggy. You were always so good with animals. Animals just seem to love you. You must be all broken up with that on top of that no good Daryl runnin off and all. It just breaks my heart to think about you all alone in yer trailer. Do you need anything? Can I do anything fo you?"
"No, I'll be alright. Listen sis, I'm gonna go to bed now. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Alright honey, you take care now, ya' hear?"
Billie Jean hung up the phone, lit another cigarette and took a swallow of beer. She sighed, and walked outside, leaving her screen door open, swinging gently in the slight breeze of the hot South Carolina summer night. She turned off the bug zapper and looked up at the stars. "Starlight Starbright, first star I see tonight I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight." She looked at the brightest star and closed her eyes and wished that she could find someone special. "Today I Started Loving You Again" by Merle Haggard came on the radio.
She thought to herself: "Maybe Barbara Jo was right. Maybe I should start dating again. But Daryl broke my heart and it ain't healed yet. I wish Daryl would come back." Billie Jean looked back up at the stars again and felt a warm breeze blow against her skin and through her long blond hair. For a moment she had a feeling that everything was going to be alright, that her problems weren't so big after all, and that if she would just lighten up she could get through this funk she was in. Maybe she could go to the pound and get another dog to love. Billie Jean took a deep breath and went back inside and sat down at her kitchen table.
Just then a rooster jumped up on the table! Poor Billie jean was so startled she nearly choked on her beer. The rooster commenced to dancing wildly on the table and staring at her.
He was the most magnificent rooster she had ever seen. Such plumage! Such charisma! Such animal magnetism! He was such a proud, handsome rooster! And how he could dance! Billie Jean had never seen anyone dance like that before.
"Why, hello there, rooster! You must've come in just now! Who are you and where did you come from?"
Chapter Two: Roscoe Rooster
This Rooster was named Roscoe and he was the son of Billy Bob Rooster. He had been all around the world. He had hitchhiked down to Mexico and barely made it back alive. He had found his way to Spain once where he teamed up with a gypsy guitarist. Rosco danced the flamenco while the gypsy played guitar and together they had made a small fortune. But one night the gypsy took off with all the money and Roscoe returned to America with no money and very malnourished. Roscoe had spent time on five continents and some South Pacific islands. He had been a ramblin man. But now he was tired of the uncertainty and he was ready to spread roots and relax for a while.
But Roscoe didn't tell any of this to Billie Jean. Instead, he just said "Roscoe is the name, and dancin is my game. I danced for princes and princesses. I don't remember where I come from but it can't be too far from here. I don't know where I'm going either. If you don't mind I would like to be yer guest for a night or two. I'm plumb broke and haven't eaten for a week. I don't need much, just a place to roost and some cornmeal or cereal or something. I'd appreciate yer hospitality." The rooster continued dancing while Billie Jean looked him over. He noticed that her pupils were large, and that was a good sign. He knew that no woman could resist his magic dance. He knew that she was falling under his spell.
"Of course you could stay here as long as you need until you get on yer feet again, Roscoe. My name is Billie Jean and I am glad to meet you. You can just make yerself at home. Would you like a bowl of Cheerios?"
"Yes, please ma'am. Don't mind if I do!" He quickly ate a bowl of cheerios and then another. "Do you mind if I have a cigarette?" he asked when he was done eating, eyeing the pack of Marlboro Light menthols laying on the table.
"For you? Of course, darlin'. You just help yerself to anything you want. There's beer in the fridge too." It seemed like forever since she had entertained a guest.
Together they finished a twelve pack of Hamms beer and smoked three packs of cigarettes while Roscoe told her tales of his travels and showed her his tattoos. She enjoyed his stories a lot and it took her mind off Daryl and Cannonball. She laughed for the first time in a long time and she even opened up and told Roscoe about Daryl and how he done run off. But she didn't seem sad when she talked of him. She seemed happy, as if the future was full of possibilities of new adventures and growth. That night she slept soundly in her bed while Roscoe perched up on the bed post. It comforted her to know he was there.
Chapter Three
The next morning Billy Jean was roused from her sleep rudely at the crack of dawn. It took Billie Jean a moment before she could make sense of what was going on. "Cockadoodledoo!" Roscoe kept crowing at the top of his lungs. "Cockadoodledoo!"
"Won't you be a dear and shut yer darn trap! Lord almighty, how long have I been asleep? A half hour?"
"Sorry, Ma'am. It's in my blood."
"Aw heck, I gotta go to work anyway." Billie Jean rubbed her eyes, yawned and climbed out of bed. After she showered and got ready for work she said "Help yerself to anything in the kitchen, ya hear? You just make yerself at home. I'll be home around three o'clock."
All day at the diner Billy Jean was thinking about Roscoe and how he danced on that table, and the hours of conversation they had. She was tempted to tell her friend and coworker Maggie about him, but for some reason she felt that she should hold off, and that now was not the time to tell anyone about Roscoe. She felt like there would be more to tell soon enough.
Work passed quickly and before she knew it her shift was over. She stopped by the grange and picked up a sack of corn feed and then she stopped by the gas station and got another case of Hamms and another carton of cigarettes. Today was Friday and she was looking forward to relaxing tonight and entertaining her new guest.
When she pulled in her driveway she saw Roscoe, strutting proudly on the lawn and pecking at little things on the ground. "Here Roscoe, I got you a sack of corn!" She poured a little out on the ground and watched as Roscoe pecked at it.
WHen Roscoe was done he sat back and lit a cigarette and said to Billie Jean "I can't thank ya enough, little lady, for yer hospitality. How was yer day at work?"
"Think nothing of it Roscoe. My day was fine, it went by so fast. How was yer day?"
"My day was good also. I just took it easy and looked around to see which way the wind blows round these parts."
That night Billie Jean cooked Macaroni and Cheese casserole and a pitcher of sweet tea. They ate well and then they commenced to drinking and talking on the front porch. They talked about everything: life, love, music, cars, pickup trucks, Sarah Palin, and Barack Obama. During a quiet moment late at night when they both seemed all talked out they both found themselves staring at the bug-zapper. The case of beer was almost gone and there was a pile of cans on the porch and in the yard.
"There is something romantic about a bug zapper on a hot summer night." Said Roscoe Rooster as he put his wing in Billie Jean's knee and looked at her with his beady little eyes.
The next moment they were both in bed. Billie Jean's clothes were thrown all over the floor and it sounded like some kind of crazy barnyard in there. But the next moment Roscoe was perched on top of the bedpost smoking a cigarette.
"That's it?" thought Billie Jean to herself. "It's over so quick? I don't even know if I felt anything." She sighed deeply and tried to shrug off the disappointment by sitting up and lighting herself a cigarette as well. Roscoe was distant and it didn't seem like they had anything left to say to each other.
The next day was Saturday and Billie Jean cleaned up around the house and picked up all the empty cans of beer and threw them in the garbage. She didn't really understand recycling. To her, recycling was something people did somewhere else, in some exotic faraway location. And she didn't really get the point of recycling. The cans disappear if you put them in the garbage, don't they?
She shared another pack of cigarettes with Roscoe at breakfast. And another by lunchtime. Roscoe just took it easy strutting around the yard and eating bugs and cornmeal.
It was two in the afternoon and pretty hot, and Billie Jean wanted a beer. She was all done picking up and sweeping. "Hey Roscoe, I am going on a beer run. I'll be back."
While she was out she also got a fifth of Jack Daniels whiskey. Billie Jean wasn't aware of it, but she was starting to feel confused again. It seemed that the spell of Roscoe Rooster was beginning to wear off.
Well, when she got back they ate hamburgers for dinner. The whole time she was drinking sweet tea and whiskey, but Roscoe didn't know it. They started on the beer after dinner and Billie Jean was feeling pretty loose. She let go of the frustration she was feeling and started to dance on the coffee table to a Patsy Cline song. Roscoe joined her and together they danced beautifully. Billie Jean felt the spell tug on her heart once again and they started kissing.
The next moment they were in bed, and the next moment Roscoe was perched on the bed-post smoking a cigarette. Billie Jean sighed and reached for a cigarette, but they were all gone. Roscoe took the last cigarette! Billie Jean had forgot to pick up a new carton while she was in town.
She jumped out of bed and put her nightgown on and started yelling at Roscoe. "Why would you take the last cigarette?! I work hard to buy those cigarettes while you stay home and eat my food and smoke my cigarettes and drink my beer!" Roscoe jumped and dodged an ashtray that Billie Jean threw at him. "Why don't you go fetch a new carton of cigarettes, you lazy bum?" She yelled, throwing a cat figurine that had been collecting dust on the window sill.
"Whoa woman!" Replied Roscoe. "Don't flip your bitch-switch. I was just making myself at home. Why do you got your panties all in a bunch for?" Roscoe was feeling very inconvenienced at the moment. He thought everything was going swell.
"I can't afford to be sharing all these Marlboros with you. Now all I can afford is the generics! You son of a bitch!" She started running at Roscoe with a hatchet. Roscoe ducked under the coffee table. Billie Jean knocked over the table and threw herself at Roscoe. He feinted to the left and then jumpedto the right up onto the back of the couch and ran along the length of it. Billie Jean tripped on the coffee table and hit the wall. The Bud Light mirror fell off and crashed on the floor with the dirty ashtray and cigarette butts. Roscoe ducked behind the TV and was clucking loudly. He was feeling VERY inconvenienced at this point. "Crazy bitch" he yelled at her.
But then he quickly became quiet since he realized he was looking down the double barrel of a shotgun. He swallowed nervously.
"Now you listen to me" said Billie Jean. "I want you to leave, you lazy son-of-a -bitch. I want you to walk out that door and never come back." She was all liquored up and pretty mad about her bud light mirror. Darryl had won that at the county fair for her.
Roscoe was silent for a moment as he thought of his options. He fixed her with his beady eye and said "Now listen honey, don't be like that. I thought everything was going good. I didn't know that you were dissatisfied. Come on Baby, that's the liquor talkin. You don't mean that. I'll tell you what, I'll make a deal with you: let's play a game of poker. If you win, I have to leave. If I win, you have to marry me."
Billie Jean put down her gun and collapsed on the couch. She gave up. She couldn't resist him when he looked at her that way. She went and fetched the cards.
Stay tuned, folks, for the rest of the story.
