Around the housing complex where I live there are wild turkeys that wander around. I know that turkeys can get aggressive, and have heard of them even attacking vehicles. There seem to be a lot of videos online about them being particularly aggressive towards, for some reason, letter carriers.
The turkeys in my area are no softies either. I saw my neighbor trying to get two turkeys to get down from the top of his car which they seem to have thought was a good spot to hang out. They ignored the car alarm that he triggered and when he went closer to shoo them away, one of them jumped down and walked towards him. Fortunately he had come armed with a golf club (the neighbor, not the turkey) and he managed to keep the turkey at bay. Finally my neighbor gave up and went inside, leaving the turkeys victorious on top of his car.
Whenever I see turkeys, I give them a wide berth. So when on my walk a few days ago on the narrow path that winds its way though the complex, I saw three turkeys walking in single file ahead of me, I slowed my pace so as to keep a good distance between them and me. But when I turned a corner, I saw just one turkey. Puzzled, I looked around and realized that two of the turkeys had gone off the path and, unseen by me, had backtracked behind bushes and were now behind me. In short, the turkeys had perfectly executed what I believe is known in military circles as a pincer movement and now had me trapped, with one in front, two behind, and no escape route.
I braced myself for the upcoming battle, calling upon the memory of those American revolutionaries Simon Bolivar, Jean-Jacques Dessalines, and Che Guevara, as well as the spirit of Jose Marti, to help see me though the fight. But to my relief, it did not come to that. The turkey in front also went off the path and went back to join his colleagues and they all wandered off back in the direction from which we had come. No doubt they had realized that I was a much tougher adversary than wimpy mail carriers and decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
In years to come, I shall regale my grandchildren with the exciting tale of my dangerous encounter with the turkeys. Over time I expect the number of turkeys involved in my telling to gradually grow to a large number, to become more aggressive, and my escape from them to be more harrowing and daring, as befits stories one tells to one’s grandchildren so that they will excitedly ask “Tell us again about your fight with the turkeys!”