Driving along Kam Highway on her way back into Honolulu. It'd been a too-short two weeks on the North Shore, and it was time to go home.

A rooster pecking on the side of the road as she drove by. "Hey, chicken," she said.

Her phone rang a minute later. Fishing it out of the bag on the passenger seat, she looked at it. Unknown caller. She answered.

"Ba-cawwww!" It was a loud, aggressive chicken clucking.

"What?" she said.

"Ba-ba-ba-CAWWWWWW!" She hung up.

"Who puts a chicken on the phone?" she muttered to herself.

Her phone jingled with a text message. She almost didn't look, but she was at a stop light anyway.

"Buhcaw," read the text.

"What the huh?" she said. She threw down the phone and focused on the car in front of her.

At the airport, rental car returned, baggage checked. The airport voice paged her to a white courtesy telephone. She picked it up.

"Ba, buh-CAW!"

"For gawssake!" She slammed the phone down.

She spent the flight home fuming, and then called all her friends hunting for the prankster. No one admitted to anything, and she finally let it go.

A week later, the postcard arrived.