The Mysterious Chicken

Written by Moe Zilla

Ed liked chicken.

He liked it baked, barbecued, boiled, or fried. Sure, he liked other foods—mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, and pie. But most of all, he liked chicken.

And this led to a mystery that was both confusing ... and delicious!

The sun was setting on Ed's farm that night, and it was almost time for Sunday dinner. Ed had invited his best friend over to share a very special dinner: a whole roasted chicken. For this recipe, his mother had soaked peach halves in a tomato-garlic sauce, then laid them in a ring around the chicken in the oven, slow-roasting them both for an entire hour. Ed’s mother was delighted that he enjoyed her cooking so much, so she was always trying new recipes to make the chicken taste different.

Ed poked his smiling face into the kitchen, and took a deep whiff of the tasty smells coming from the oven. “Not yet,” said Ed’s mother with a smile. She fussed over every meal to make sure it was perfect. “What time is your friend getting here?”

“Six o’clock,” Ed said.

“He better hurry,” Ed’s mother replied. “It’s almost ready, and the peach halves will dry out if we don’t eat them right away!”

* * *

As a practical joke, Zeke had brought along a pizza. All weekend, he’d been imagining what he’d say to Ed: “Well shucks, Ed, you can have chicken any old time. But this is fresh pizza!” He’d scoured town for the cheapest pizza he could find.

As he walked up Ed’s long driveway, he saw Ed’s little terrier running towards him, yipping. “Shh!” Zeke said to the terrier, and reached down to pet it. He set the pizza on the ground behind him, but kept a close eye on the little dog so he wouldn’t run over and eat it. Zeke scratched the dog behind the ears and under its chin. “You’re a silly little dog, aren’t you?” Zeke cooed. He admired the dog’s shaggy bangs and its tiny mouth. “I bet you wish you had fresh pizza for dinner.”

Zeke heard a noise over his shoulder. The terrier was still in front of him, and Zeke spun around, confused. He looked just in time to see Ed’s other dog, a big husky, devouring his pizza. The dog had somehow nuzzled the lid open, and was already chomping on its cheesy toppings. “Hey!” Zeke shouted, but the dog ignored him. “Get away from that!” Zeke laughed and started to grab the box away, but the dog put his paws on the cardboard, and then sank his teeth into the crust. Amazingly, a big double piece stayed in the dog’s mouth, and the happy husky ran off with it, down to the ditch to enjoy his dinner.

“Dogs can’t have pizza!” Zeke shouted after him. “It’s bad for your digestion! Or something ...” He chased after the husky, who just ran farther ahead when he heard Zeke coming. As the dog ran, Zeke could see the pizza still dangling from its mouth. Zeke turned around to head back toward Ed’s house—just in time to see the tiny terrier walking across the remaining pizza slices. It was licking the cheesy toppings like it was some kind of junk food water dish—and wagging its tail happily.

Just then Ed walked out of the house.

“It was nice of you to bring a pizza for my dogs,” Ed said.

* * *

At the dinner table, Zeke explained about his practical joke gone bad. “You like chicken so much,” he explained, “I just thought it’d be funny to—”

“You and your jokes,” Ed said. “Someday someone’s going to play one on you!”

“I think your dogs already did,” Zeke said with a laugh. Ed’s mother smiled at their conversation as she carried in the serving plate with the chicken. She had covered it in a fancy glass dish to keep it warm. The tomato-garlic sauce simmered and warm steam rose to the top of the glass from the ring of yellow peaches around the golden-brown chicken.

“Chicken!” Ed said.

“You boys get started,” Ed’s mother said. “I need to run to the basement to put the laundry in the dryer. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Suddenly a furious noise came from the front yard. Ed’s terrier was barking, and it sounded like a mountain lion was growling back! Ed bolted to the front door, and Zeke ran off after him. “That terrier acts like he’s not afraid of anything,” Ed said. “He’ll never go near another animal, but he’ll yip and yip like he’s king of the world. Sometimes the other animals even believe it!”

When Zeke got to the doorway, he started laughing. The terrier was in an argument, all right, but not with a mountain lion—with the neighbor’s cat! The cat yowled back at the dog like a mountain lion, squawling aggressively in hopes that the tiny dog would run away and leave the pizza.

“Get!” Ed said to the cat, while his dog continued to bark. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?” Ed asked the terrier, scooping up the pizza box to take it over to the trash. “We thought you’d seen a mountain lion, but it was just a little puddy tat.”

“All that noise over some pepperoni,” Zeke grumbled. “Next time, I’ll just bring dog food.”

But Ed looked over at the cat, who was loping down the driveway. “Is he hurt?” Ed asked. Zeke studied the cat, but he couldn’t tell. Cats always seemed to walk funny to him.

“I bet he’s just disappointed,” Zeke said. “He wanted to be the third animal eating my pizza tonight.”

But Ed ignored him, calling out gently to the cat. “My neighbor loves that cat,” he told Zeke. “Does he look like he’s limping?”

Zeke said he couldn’t tell, but Ed looked worried. “I need to make sure that my terrier didn't injure him.” The cat meowed sadly, but didn’t run. It just looked confused—and, yes, a little hungry.

Ed told Zeke, “You better throw that pizza away in the compost bin out back.”

* * *

A little while later, Ed told Zeke that the cat was okay. “He was just trying to figure out how a little dog like that could make so much noise, I think.” Ed said he’d watched the cat for nearly ten minutes—and Zeke said it had taken him that long just to figure out where the compost bin was.

After all that, Ed’s mother insisted that they both wash their hands again—Zeke’s were covered with cheese and grease, and Ed could’ve gotten bacteria from checking on the cat. “And then stop horsing around,” she shouted, “so we can enjoy my nice chicken dinner!” Ed and Zeke used the sink in the bathroom at the top of the stairs, but when they came back down, another surprise was waiting for them.

The chicken dinner had disappeared.

The roasted chicken had been left on the table in the dining room—covered with the glass dish that would keep it warm. Now the dish was still there—the clear, shiny glass looking spotless and elegant. But there was no chicken under it.

Everyone was more than ready to enjoy the tasty tomato-garlic chicken with peaches, but first they’d have to answer one question:

Who stole it?