Chicken Little: The Inside Story (A Jungian ... - Inner City Books

The Experiment 123
While I scooped out a healthy portion of Pro-Life Lite (“for
older or inactive dogs”), Arnold helped himself to a glass of ice
and filled it with Scotch. I boiled up some water for raspberry tea.
“Well?” said Arnold.
“Well yourself,” I grumped.
Silence.
“It’s a fair cop,” said Arnold. “She’s in safe hands.”
“Yeah? What about me?”
“As it happens, I have some ideas . . .”
Well, Arnold is nothing if not inventive. His suggestions would
certainly disturb my life, but on the other hand they might enhance
it as well. I felt more than a spark of interest. Being outside hadn’t
been so bad after all. I learned something new, and I still felt me. I
wasn’t happy that Rachel was gone, but you don’t lose somebody
like her just because she’s not beside you.
“I’ll have to sleep on it,” I said cautiously.
But meanwhile there was this Chicken Little business to wrap
up. Was Brillig on to something important? Was the whole idea
just a flash in the pan, another dead end? Was it worth pursuing?
After staring at the wall for a few days, I realized that my questions
were academic. I knew where my energy wanted to go. Like
Ms. Little, believed or not, I had to speak out. That was my destiny.
I sat down at the computer and made a tentative start.
I got back from the bank just as Rachel was pulling out. She rolled
down her window.
“Sunny hasn’t had her walk,” she called. “Oh, and there’s a special
delivery letter on your desk. Don’t know who it’s from, I didn’t
open it. Gotta fly!”
And she blew me a kiss, off to her class.
“Yeah!” said Arnold. “Do it.”
And I did.