In which a rabble-rousing turkey escapes the farm and finds himself in Washington, where his talents land him a broadcasting job.
- * * *
On Farmer Ed’s place in New England there once lived a smart and noble turkey named Terence. Terence knew that every year from Indian summer to the last chills of November his own life and those of his wife Talulah and the two kids Tom and Tess were in constant jeopardy. During this period Terence patrolled his family’s compound night and day, eating very little and sustaining himself on nourishment stored in his breast. Not until the fourth Thursday in November had passed did he feel he could lower his guard sufficiently to cast eyes to the ground to eat. Terence had tried for many years to explain to all the others what Thanksgiving should mean to a turkey, but the turkeys always turned a deaf ear his way as if he were crazy. Even when Terence stood atop a huge feedbag and tried to address the mortal danger of their collective indifference, and lectured, admonished, even harangued the turkeys into action that might save them, still, in spite of every strenuous effort, the turkeys paid no attention and only doubled and redoubled their focus on the one and, it seemed, the only activity they cared to engage in: eating. One afternoon, following hours of vain speaking, Terence, exasperated, shouted at them, “You gobble, gobble all the time, but have any of you stopped eating just long enough to ask yourselves if there shouldn’t be more to life than this? I ask you, turkeys, what happens when the gobbling stops?” Days passed, Thanksgiving slowly was rolling around once more, and Terence was again on patrol. And it was lucky, too, because Farmer Ed had just received a special order form a New York customer for a smart bird. Immediately upon reading the order form, Ed went looking for Terence. He checked all over the farm and finally spotted him by the fence near the north forty. Terence ran and fled behind the silo. Ed gave chase and had just about caught him by the leg when Terence scurried under the wheels of the tractor. There Ed made turk-turk, gobble-gobble noises to lure him to food just as Ed did with all the turkeys, but on Terence this had absolutely no effect. He waited five minutes, watching every movement of Ed’s scuffed black boots, and then he made a dash, his brown wings flapping as he ran, hopped, and flew toward the garden on the far side of the farm. After a lackluster pursuit, Ed finally gave up. “I’ll get you next year, Terence,” the angry farmer shouted. “You’ll be a year older,” he taunted, “and a year slower.” “And a year smarter,” Terence shouted back. “You’ll never get me,” he said as he ran off, and the metallic luster of his brown plumage shone in the sun. At home that evening, when he told his family of the escape from Farmer Ed, Terence got less than a hero’s reception. While Talulah rubbed down Terence’s legs with liniment, she also scolded him. “Every year you yell at the other birds, Terence, yet they no more listen to you than they do to the weather report. Ed went after you because you talk too much. If you don’t stop, you’ll make me a widow before my time.” Tom Turkey agreed with his mother. “Every time you make a speech, dad, I get no end of ribbing in the yard. The other kids always say their parents have been laughing at you. Pop, I don’t want you to be ridiculed. Why don’t you just make peace with it? Why don’t you just settle down to a nice turkey life? It’s not so bad here.” Only Tess rallied to her father’s side. “No,” she challenged her mother and brother. “You really think this is such a great life? Our eyes always cast on the ground, our beaks always scratching in the dirt, our faces never raised up to the blue sky of heaven? To worry from season to season if we’ll escape with our necks! You call that a life?” She walked over to her father and lovingly stroked his wattles. “There’s no future for me down on this turkey farm. I’m with you, Daddy, all the way.” Terence gathered his family around him. “This time really was different,” he carefully explained. “This time I challenged Ed openly, which I’ve never done before, and he’s promised to get me next Thanksgiving. At first I thought I made a mistake, but now I think, I am even certain, I did the right thing. Why? Because now there’s no turning back. I’m under no illusion that I’m not a turkey. Besides my feet, my wings, my beak, and my cunning, what do I have to protect all of you? I have nothing, while Ed has behind him all the formidable resources of the livestock and agribusiness. Starting next fall, and probably sooner, my life’s not going to be worth a plugged nickel. Dear wife and children, I think the time has come to leave.” “Hip, hip, hooray,” shouted springy Tess. “I’ll have to go pack lunch for us,” said Talulah, with reluctant obedience. Crestfallen Tom said, “I’ll go tell my pals.” “Absolutely not. Don’t breathe a word of any of this, son. Otherwise Farmer Ed will catch wind of it and be on the prowl.” Terence reached out a claw gently to restrain Tom, “You’re all to maintain strictest secrecy, and by this time tomorrow there will be four fewer turkeys on this farm!” Terence commenced to make his plans. Tess helped Talulah with all the packing. But Tom, suddenly bursting with excitement for the daring adventure that lay ahead, went to the barnyard and promptly, despite better intentions, spilled the beans. Still, the next day before sunup, the family made its escape. It went flawlessly. Among the thousands of other turkeys the presence or absence of Terence and his family was hardly noticeable, and, as Thanksgiving was still a long way off, Terence was of no immediate concern to Farmer Ed. In fact Farmer Ed the very morning of the escape was not even on the premises, having taken off to Florida for a week of fishing. After days of hiding and roadside wanderings, Terence took up residence with his family in an abandoned farm house in Maryland, outside of Washington, D.C., the nation’s capital. Terence quickly applied himself to the ways of men. He assiduously observed and gradually learned enough about human life so that he figured he might be able soon to get a job, earn money, and improve the lot of his family. It wasn’t terribly hard for Terence to begin to look human, either. He possessed a naturally ruddy complexion, an aquiline nose, and reddish-brown plumage. Talulah found an old suit in the shed, which she washed and cleaned for her husband, and then, one day, stuffed him into it. When she put a crisp white handkerchief into his breast pocket, the look was complete. All pressed, shined, and prepared, Terence, in an old car he had found and fixed up, drove off into Washington in search of employment. He soon got a job at a radio station, where his sharp beak and nails enabled him to cut, splice, and edit at a superior speed the recording tape used in the programs. Terence received rapid promotions and soon applied for and was granted a broadcaster’s license. In a matter of months he was doing his own late night show. Terence’s wise counsel to his listeners and his wry humor soon secured him a large and devoted audience. He imitated media personalities, cars, animals, and game birds with great skill and effect. Terence brought a perspective to his comments on the changing scene that was new, refreshing, and much welcomed in Washington. His show, expanded to an hour and a half, became syndicated. Soon “Terence Talks” had become —”- you could hardly describe it otherwise —”- something of a national habit. He fixed up his house in grand style and got proper clothes for Talulah, Tess, and Tom. Soon the kids had been admitted to the best of schools, Talulah to the best women’s clubs, and Terence found himself entering the cream of Washington society. Politicians, generals, diplomats, journalists, intellectuals all frequented the parties that Terence and Talulah gave. At these soirees, Terence’s wit was so sparkling, his common sense so clear-headed, his feet so firmly planted on the ground, and his ideals just the right distance between heaven and earth that no one, not a single citizen of Washington, noticed he was a turkey.