Tusti flung herself on the porch bench with a stage groan. “Asif, I swear to Allah if nothing happens today I’m going to die of boredom.
Asif leaned against the fence, twirling a stick. “You always say that. Just go read or something.”
“I’ve read everything. Twice. The back of the cereal boxes is reading, even.” Tusti rolled her eyes and sat down on the grass.
Asif laughed. “Okay, okay. Well, then, what do you want us to do? Start a rock band with the community dogs?
Tusti sat up, eyes sparkling. “Well… that is not a bad idea. But better. We have the town look at us. Make things exciting.”
“As exciting as what?” Asif asked, raising an eyebrow. “Explain before I laugh.”
“Animals! Parades! Chaos! Streets filled with goats, chickens running loose. People stared in disbelief. Wow, this is a joy that Willow Creek has never experienced!” Tusti’s hands waved wildly.
Asif blinked. “You are insane. Absolutely insane. But … I want to see that.”
“Exactly!” Tusti grabbed his arm. “Come on, let’s start small. My backyard first. We could conscript some chickens, maybe Mrs. Finley’s goats. You are in, right?”
Asif groaned but smiled. “Fine. "But if we are caught, you remind everyone how I collaborated to stir up a barnyard riot.
Tusti laughed. “Deal. Now grab some peanuts. We’re going to make history — or at least a mess!’
By noon, the yard resembled the scene of a miniature farm explosion. Chickens darted around, goats tried to jump the fence, and Asif was chasing a stubborn hen.
Tusti clapped her hands. “Focus, Asif! This is just the rehearsal. ’ Because the street is the main event!”
“I feel like we are slowly losing control of the universe,” Asif groused, throwing himself on the grass after chasing a chicken into a corner.
“Perfect,” Tusti said, grinning. “Chaos is exactly the point.”
Asif brushed his sweating forehead. “The neighbors are probably watching and thinking we’re crazy.”
Tusti looked at the row of houses lining the street and grinned. “Let them watch. Being bored is crazier than being insane.”
By midafternoon, they had lined up every animal they owned on the side of the street. Chickens, goats, a feral cat Asif saved, even Mrs. Finley’s sheep had come out.
“Let’s go,” Tusti whispered, “this is the one. The parade begins now. After all, you are in control of the chickens.”
Asif groaned. “Chickens? You know they don’t honor instructions at all, do you?”
“They will be educated,” Tusti said, whacking her stick. “Or they will make one hell of a mess.”
The parade began. No weanies here! The goats were surprisingly obliging to begin with\ – trotting along, keenly and not too much encouragement. Everywhere were flapping squawking chickens. The sheep refused to move and looked at the gathering as if it were a philosophical text.
Asif tried to collect the chickens. “No! Not that way! This is a parade, not a stampede!”
Tusti doubled over laughing. “It is a parade! You are in the wildest parade that has ever struck Willow Creek!”
Neighbors poured out of their houses, cellphones in hand. Some of them were laughing fit to die, some of them were attempting to shield their gardens, and Mr Henderson was pursuing his cat, which, somewhere en route, had joined the march at precisely the wrong moment.
“See them,” Tusti said, pointing. ‘They don’t know whether to be scared or entertained. This is precisely what we wanted.”
Asif panted. “I believe we made a myth. Or a disaster. Maybe both.”
And the street was a feather, goat-footprint, and tiny paw print horror zone from the stray cat by 4 p.m. Neighbors were coming out, clapping each other, joining even in the effort to hustle animals home.
Now, Mrs. Rahman had never smiled a day in her life, but she laughed so hard that she had to sit down on her porch. I can’t believe it’s this or nothing! You two are unbelievable.”
Tusti grinned, arms wide. “Thank you. We take a reward of applause and the rest of the chicken seed.”
Asif gave her a look. “You know, we might well get kicked out of the town after this.
“Maybe,” Tusti said. “Or maybe we will be remembered forever in some way. Willow Creek’s heroes against boredom.”
The sun was setting over the hills and the sky was golden. The carts were returning to their sheds, and Pusti and Asif; men dragging, behind them, the beasts meant to have hauled them on.
“This feels like way more fun than I thought it was going to,” Asif said, taking a break on the curb and dusting chicken feathers from his shirt.
Tusti sprawls across the porch railing in the setting sunlight. See? A little bit of boredom and a little bit of imagination can shake the whole town awake. Regardless of how much of a catastrophe it is.”
“I’m a fan,” Asif said, grinning. “Perhaps we do not use Mrs. Finley’s goats next time. They also don’t respect personal space at all.”
He laughed and she threw a peanut at him. “No promises. Boredom is dangerous. Dangerous but fun.”
Asif shook his head. “You are trouble, Tusti. Absolute trouble.”
“You’re having a good time,” Tusti added, smiling slyly.
By nightfall, Willow Creek was peaceful again. The neighbors headed back inside, exchanging a few words about a parade that none of them had ever believed they would have. Tusti and Asif were sitting on the porch, exhausted but satisfied, with their feet dangling over the edge.
“You know,” Asif offered, “we probably should clean up before your mom hears anything ten doors down. She will have questions.”
Tusti groaned. “Cleanup is overrated. Let tomorrow deal with that.”
“You’re hopeless,” Asif said, laughing and flinging a chicken feather into the breeze.
“And you still followed me here,” Tusti retorted. And that’s why we are unbeatable. Then that’s what makes life interesting.”
Asif looked up at the sky, now streaked with purple and orange. “I suppose boredom is kind of a luxury. It made us… this.”
Tusti smiled, nudging him. “Exactly. If we were quiet and normal, nothing would happen. From this day on, everyone will know. One spring day, Willow Creek went wild.”
Asif laughed, shaking his head. “I never realized how great boredom could be. But somehow … it was worth it."
Tusti rested her face against it, the better to receive the wind. “It always is, Asif. It always is. Boredom is like a red alert moment in the universe.” It wants you to take something indelible.”
Asif grinned. “Well, then. Bring it on next time. I am ready for anything.”
"Good," Tusti said, closing her eyes for a moment. “Because I have so many more ideas.”
And in that moment, they both sat in the silence of the night, tired and triumphant and aware that from that time forward Willow Creek would never be able to gaze into the face of boredom.
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