As Samuel was entering the house and locking down the door, another person was entering the front yard. Not from the front, coming up the lane to the buildings door. No, this person came from around the side. Short and scrawny with a bob of blight blond hair bobbing from side to side under a rattly old wool cap that had struggled valiantly to retain its bright red color though years of hardship but nonetheless had gone a deep shade of maroon. Forgoing her typical coat on this bright, sunny day in favor of a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, she came jogging around the building red in the face and panting for breath.

She was not alone. 

Trotting along at her heels was a chattering of large hens, each one fat and clucking up a storm. Behind them, content to swoop through the air and watch her, were a quartet of large blackbirds, a smattering of assorted tiny birds no bigger than your fist, and against all logic a flamingo that easily kept stride with the young girl using its long legs. The entire strange flock came to a stop when she did, leaning against the archway in front of the door in order to catch her breath.

Her name was Alfreda Caw, and she had grossly misinterpreted both the size of the orphanage and the meaning of the words "chicken run."

"Okay ladies, break time." she called to her charges. The chickens continued milling about as though they hadn't heard her, but they never did wander to far when she was around. That's why Alfreda had her special job, the chickens always listened when she spoke. They might not obey, but they would at least take what she said under advisement. "We're almost done, does anybody need a drink?"

The chickens clucked. They were always clucking.

"Okay, but I need to ask Housekeeper if we can use the hose." She said, pushing herself up and pointing at the lot of them. "Stay right here." With that she spun around, walked to the door, and tried to open it.

She tried again.

Third times the charm.

She jiggled the handle and pushed with her whole body for all the good that did, but the thing was stuck. She raised a fist and pounded on the window. "Mrs. Housekeeper?" She called. "Hello? The door's stuck. Hello?" She knocked on the door again.