Last One Standing

 

In addition to 15,000 chickens, we had some amazing gardens

When I was a teen, my most frequent emotions were insecurity and embarrassment, so picking out a particularly memorable instance took some real work with the wayback machine.

I grew up on a poultry farm. We had as many as 15,000 laying hens at one time, so taking care of chickens and gathering eggs was an early skill. When one of our neighbors, also a poultry farmer, wanted to go away for a weekend, he hired me to take care of gathering and grading the eggs, as well as feeding the hens.

Unfortunately, I and two of my friends had recently discovered smoking. I made the mistake of inviting Dexter and Randy to help me out. We were merrily involved in grading and packing the eggs we’d gathered when one of us (I can’t remember who), realized the egg room reeked of cigarette smoke.

Our brilliant solution was to grab an aerosol can of scented air freshener and thoroughly dose the egg room. Problem solved...NOT!

When the owners returned, I was asked to come down to their farm. I arrived, blissfully ignorant of the gravity of my (and my friend’s) actions. The air freshener had been applied so liberally that the eggs we’d processed were unsalable. In addition, I was taken to task for smoking in a henhouse, and inviting my friends onto the property without getting permission in advance.

I was not paid for the work, nor was I ever hired to work there again. Since the wife was also a teacher at my high school, and remained a close friend of my mother until Mom died many years later, I got regular reminders of my errant deed.

Everyone involved, save me has died, but the emotional impact has stayed with me, making me more humble, as well as more tolerant of other folk’s screw-ups. I like to think that some of what I experienced back then has influenced how I portray misdeeds done by my characters. No villain should ever be completely forgiven, but letting readers peek into their past often makes them relatable.