Monday, March 16, 2009

“We Honor You With This Chicken,” says the brother.

I'm on the back of Marcelo's Kawasaki and we're speeding through O Centro. Kids shooting marbles. Black woman breast feeding. Trash fires in the street. It must be 100 degrees out.

We cut up a small hill and race across a field towards the mountains, and now we're nearing what resembles a ranch. Chickens everywhere. Squawking and pecking and bobbing and Marcelo says we're here.

It's becoming dark. The humidity says it's only getting worse. We're in a shed now with who I think is his brother. He holds a knife, but a machete is on the wall. On the ground there is some hay, there is some blood, and I'm guessing a killing stump. His brother exits the shed.

Marcelo rubs his hands together, says I'm going to love this. His brother returns with a whale of a chicken. It's going nuts, and it's getting loud, really loud and I hate this. I hear the wings hoping they will finally fly and the brother's feet shuffling for position through the hay. Marcelo yells "Ya!" as his brother becomes too large to be human. I can't feel anything.

The brother looks at me and smiles. He's missing teeth, and what I finally think about is, "he's missing teeth." Then, wham! Cuts through the chicken's neck.

Marcelo whacks me on the back and looks to see how I like it. I look at him like I've suddenly gone deaf. But then, I smile. I look at the scene again and feel the moment's exclamation flush quickly to my face the way a new bruise pulses pain. I laugh or cough, can't really tell, but I'm ecstatic. My throat clears and I'm howling now, whooping it up with Marcelo.


  1. Great start to a new adventure...if nothing else happens at least you saw a slaughtered chicken.

  2. or at least you think i did. thanks for reading

  3. fuck yeah chang! that's country

  4. I have chicken blood on my cheek from reading this.

    You are brilliant.