CHILDREN’S FICTION BY PRATIKSHAYA ANANTHAKRISHNAN The Strange Berries
There was once a rooster who had a knack for running. He was one of the fastest sprinters in Picklebush Village, a small village that lay in the countryside. Courage was able to run more than nine miles per hour–the average speed of a chicken–and he enjoyed running so much that he would often have races with his friend Loretta, who, although not quite as fast, was also a good runner. One warm afternoon, while Courage and Loretta were training for the upcoming Marigold Meadows Marathon, Loretta suggested that they race to the village square. So, the two chickens set off to the busy village center. They were initially side by side for a couple of minutes into the race, but Courage slowly started advancing past Loretta. When they finally reached the square, Courage was about eight feet ahead of her. The chickens skidded to a halt, breathing heavily.
“Good race, Courage,” Loretta said. “You were really fast,” Courage crowed happily, “Thanks, Loretta. You ran well too,”
“I suppose,” Loretta sighed. She sadly scratched at the grassy ground. Courage was about to ask Loretta what was wrong when he suddenly looked up and gasped. “Is it just me, or does everyone look extremely exhausted today?” Courage exclaimed. Loretta stared around the village square, and noticed the usually active village chickens groggily stumbling around, trying their best to stay awake. “You’re right–everyone…does look very tired today,” Loretta slowly agreed. “Come to think of it, they've been unusually tired since the start of berry season last week. But why? Are they sick?” Courage questioned. “I have to go,” Loretta hurriedly clucked, and she dashed off in the direction of the berry fields. Courage continued surveying the village. Several chickens were resting on the ground; fully asleep. Barely any of them seemed to be sleeping with even one eye open. “Excuse me?” Courage clucked. He gently shook a resting chicken with his beak. “Why are you so tired?” The chicken shook himself, his eyelids drooping, and mumbled, “Just had a little berry snack.. and I–” Too exhausted to finish his sentence, the chicken went back to resting. As Courage looked again at the tired chickens around him, puzzled, that’s when he realized that each one had the same thing in common: purple berry juice dripping from their beak. It looked like blueberry juice. That’s when it hit Courage. It was blueberries that had caused all of this. The rooster quickly sprinted to the village’s berry fields to find Loretta attempting to dig some of the blueberry plants out of the soil with her feet.
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