Flapping My Left Wing by Hannah Fortune

As always, the night before anything exciting was on the horizon, Chick barely slept a wink. At 7:45AM she wheeled her suitcase out to the road to wait for Pearl. She’d packed and unpacked three times, and tried on nearly everything she owned, hoping to come up with just the right outfits, nearly forgetting her swimsuit and sunblock 45.
Darn, was she still preening her feathers for Mr. Right?, Chick mused, though she quite enjoyed her single status, answering to no one, and free to do whatever she liked whenever she liked. But there were times, especially on chilly winter nights, when she longed for a companion to warm up the bed. She did have many wonderful friends, and here came one of them now to pick her up. Pearl was right on time, looking splendid in her……….Her Hummer!!! Egads!! Pearl was driving a brand new shiny black gas guzzling Hummer!!
Oh, this can’t be happening, thought Chick with dismay. But it was happening. If she wanted to go to the keys, she’d be going in this environmental abomination that belonged in the Sahara desert. Before she could even sputter a word, Pearl jumped out, grabbed Chick’s bag and tossed it in the back, and in one swift movement shoved Chick’s butt in front seat, buckled her in and they were off before Chick could even begin to protest (which in truth she would not have because…..she had her heart set on this trip). I can sacrifice my principles for this one teeny tiny weekend, can’t I?, thought Chick, in burst of pure selfishness.
In a short space of time they were barreling down I-75. It had been plenty of time, however, for Chick to remember that several years ago she had vowed never to get in a car with Pearl as the driver, a sickening fact that she had conveniently forgotten, and now here she was, trapped in a hated horrible Hummer with a lead-footed maniac!
The landscape was a blur, but Chick couldn’t see it anyhow unless she stood up in the seat. “Oh, Pearl, I’m so sleepy, I think I’ll just doze off a bit”, said Chick, and, using a tactic that served her well in times of stress, she fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the sweet sounds of old Joni Mitchell tunes and Pearl’s off key sing-along.
Hours later, she awoke to Pearl’s finger jabbing her in the side. “Wakey, wakey. Lunchtime, sweetie”. Pearl had already spread their repaste out on a shady rest area picnic table, a delicious vegan dish of eggplant parmiagian, carob cake for dessert, and a bottle of sweet red wine. It almost makes up for her driving, thought Chick, as she wiped her lips on the pretty linen napkins.
“Two more hours to Key Largo”, Pearl said as they quite literally climbed back up in the Hummer, whose purchase Pearl defended by some malarkey (in Chick’s opinion) about carbon credit exchange.
“Wake me when we’re there”, mumbled Chick, already nodding off as they pulled onto Alligator Alley. The next time Pearl jabbed her they were turning into John Pennekamp State Park.
“Let’s go for a swim, girlfriend”, said Pearl with her usual enthusiasm. They parked and went into the bathouse to change into their suits. Chick remembered a trip here nearly twenty years ago with her friends Bobbi and Teda. Darn, she also remembered looking pretty good on that trip, too. She decided to put her shorts back on over her suit. Even though she was wearing a slimming black Speedo, it wasn’t enough to hide the bulging and sagging that were inevitable at her age, even with rigorous daily exercise (which she didn’t do). Pearl obviously felt the same way as she emerged wrapped in a silky print sarong that covered her ample body completely. Yes, the days of bikinis for these two were over.
The protected swimming area was just as Chick rememberd it, at least until she put her snorkel on. There were definitely less fish. But it was still beautiful, the turquoise blue water, the azure skies, and the clear air. As she floated on her back, toes pointed skyward, a feeling of peace washed over our little chicken. “Oh, it’s paradise, Pearl”, she said to her friend who had swum up beside her. “No, this is gorgeous! But paradise is two hours south. Let’s hit the road!”
So they dried off, grabbed their clothes, and, still clad in their damp suits, hightailed it back to the Hummer. Pearl fixed up a booster seat of sorts with their luggage so Chick could see over the dashboard.
“Sorry, Chick, I forgot how little you were or I would have gotten you a carseat”.
“Very funny, Pearl”, answered Chick. It wasn’t the first time someone had voiced this insulting suggestion. She had learned to ignore it.
The Hummer was nearly three feet above most of the other cars on the road. Chick turned her head in shame when a couple wearing Sierra Club t-shirts and driving a Prius glared at them. It’s not mine, she thought, but she felt culpable all the same. Well, she wouldn’t let it spoil her trip, she vowed and quite soon Chick forgot about everything else, awed by the sheer beauty of the vista before her. The smooth cerulean blue water, deepening to azure and ultramarine, meeting puffy white clouds with a touch of pinkish rose. The road stretched ahead seeming to disappear in the water and then a lovely little island popped into view, tiny cottages perched on the sand and……..enormous new condos. No, she simply would not allow herself to think about anything negative for just this one weekend.
Didn’t she deserve a respite? A break from carrying the weight of the world on her small shoulders? A reprieve from wearing her heart on her sleeve? Yes, it was her turn.
Chick spotted the sign first. Welcome To Key West, it said, and perched atop was a statue of a chicken. I’m home, Chick thought, with tears in her eyes. This is my spiritual home. I love Key West.

Next: McNuggets in Paradise