A hundred turkeys, maybe more

It was me and Vinnie that found the old barn. We made  a few calls, gathered up a few of the guys….Ted, Jake and a couple o’ gum chewing girls Vinnie met on the corner of Fifth and Pallookie. We stood there considerin’; I chewed my lip in apprehension. The door was red but the paint was peelin’ off like hives and the hinges rusty as hell. No-one had been this way in a while. I flipped the latch and pushed it open. We strode  in, fakin’ our courage and the afternoon light from the high windows hardly dented the sickening gloom below.

Then we saw them. A least a hundred turkeys, maybe more. My mind was too dizzy with fear to count ’em. They stood silent. All those cold turkey eyes staring straight at us.

Gobble…gobble…gobble. They started. Like they were summoning up the beasts of hell in a chant of the ancients. We backed away but the door slammed behind us. Laughter echoed in the depth of my mind. A girl screamed, once; cut short.

In a corner the blind monkey played his silent saxophone as the spirit of jazz took his soul.

I can never speak of the things that happened after. Some things you just can’t say. But just know I was the only one who made it out alive.

And that can change a man.

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