Turkey

It is 8:30 AM. I am helping the Impling pull on her underwear. My phone rings.

It is Dr. Science, calling on his way into work.

"Hey! The Turkey is on the corner of Kent and Longwood! It's on the wall of that big house on the corner...you know the one...if you hurry, you might see it!"

"We're on the way."

So off we went, the Impling and I, rushing out the door like storm chasers. Would we make it? Would it still be there?

Why all this drama for a turkey? Anyone who lives in the area knows that Brookline has wild turkeys. This is old news. They have existed quite contentedly, it seems, in the Jamaica River Way park, and the tree park on Kent Street. To all reports, the wild turkey was now...common.

Except, I had still never seen one. And neither had the Impling.

Not for lack of searching. We are regular wanderers in that neck of the woods. It's a nice walk, and you can see the ducks and geese playing in the water. The trees are beautiful. It is fun to run around in, as long as you avoid the expanses of lawn that are the goose turd grounds. But for all our searching, in this past year, we had NEVER seen the turkeys. People would tell us they had seen them all the time, and eventually, I found myself nodding sarcastically and saying:

"Yeah, uh huh, right." And poults are about to fly out my butt. Face it, the only turkeys around here are the ones who don't use turn signals in busy intersections.

So we ran down the street, in search of the elusive turkey. We reached the appointed corner, and searched the grounds of the multi-million house for signs of turkydom. And were disappointed, yet again.

Then we looked across the street. And there, on the sidewalk, was the turkey.

He was taller than the Impling, with his neck stretched out, checking out the commuters with a air of superiority. The Impling was entranced. We watched as the turkey lived out one of the oldest jokes, and crossed the road. Of course, once he got to the other side, it wasn't as green as he had hoped (I think it was a he, I've no bloody idea if it really was). Longwood traffic, at rush hour, came to a standstill as the turkey strutted his fabulous self down the yellow lines. Swish swish, sweetie. Finally, a jogger, a amatuer photographer, and an earnest young man on a bike managed to herd the turkey to the sidewalk again, where he proceeded to strut his stuff down the street and across the bridge, leading a parade of onlookers (including an Impling who was now strutting "just like a turkey") in various states of amusement, annoyance and "oh for chrissakes it's just a fucking turkey get over it already I for one am sick of stepping in turkey shit all over my yard".

We spent about an hour following the turkey until we herded it (the jogger, the photographer and I were the only ones left towards the end...and that says...what about us?) down the path on the other side of the bridge to the river. At least, I think it eventually went to the river. The last we saw, the bird was making a break for it by doubling back through the woods towards the Riverway. That was one turkey with a mission. I hope it found whatever it was it was looking for. We had fun following it for at least a small part of it's journey.

That night I looked for reports of certain medical personal from BIDMC being assaulted by a wild turkey, but no such luck. Nice little fantasy I had going there, for a little while.

Comments

[In the Trenches of Mommyhood]

You need to come visit our Trenches out in Central Mass! We have wild turkeys strutting through our backyard daily (and that's not even counting my Hubby and neighbor after they've had a few beers.)