Ducky

It was an ordinary Sunday at the Dvořák household; father Dvořák was reading the Sunday paper, the mother was cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen, grandpa was solving a crossword in the corner of the living room and the children (Johnny and Mary) were playing outside in the garden. It was April and all nature was in bloom. Halcyon ruled the house, while excitement caused by games like tag and hide-and-seek rushed through the children’s veins. All was peaceful as is fit for a Sunday afternoon, until one moment, the young barged into the living room.

“Look, look what we found!” Johnny exclaimed, Mary standing closely behind him. Grandpa Dvořák continued to mumble answers to his crossword (his hearing was quite poor), but their father gave the discovered object his full attention. It was an egg.

“Where did you find it?” he asked, studying the object.

“There, at the back, near the pond and fountain,” Mary replied, for Johnny was too fascinated by the oval thing that until then he saw only in miniature version in the fridge.

“Whose egg is it?” Johnny asked. The father continued to study it, but did not know - but then, his father might know!

“Go ask grandpa, he grew up on a farm,” and the children ran across the room to the old man who took the egg into his hand. He caressed it, placed it against his ear, knocked on it a little and then said all-knowingly:

“Duck.” The children began jumping in excitement like kangaroos:

“Duck! Daddy, daddy, can we keep it?” The father squared his shoulders:

“Ask your mother.” The children rushed into the kitchen, but came back soon. The answer was obvious.

“Better luck next time,” father Dvořák said and opened his paper again. Grandpa Dvořák however, (being a grandpa) could not take the sight of sad grandchildren. He indicated to them with his index finger to come closer and once they did, he whispered:

“Younglings, let’s keep it! But it’ll be our secret, okay?” The children nodded in unison. “Let’s go into the back garage and put together a cosy nest for it to hatch in.”

“And when will that be, grandpa?” asked Johnny, taking the old man’s hand with a twinkle of admirations in his eyes.

“By the size and warmth of it? Very soon, Johnny, very soon.” And all three of them left.

And indeed, the egg hatched days later.

“Let’s name it Ducky!” cried Mary and Johnny agreed, thinking it was the perfect name for the small yellow creature. Grandpa smiled.

“You know, when I was your age Johnny, I had my own pet duck. His name was Donald, like the Disney character.”

“What happened to him, grandpa?”

“Well, he grew big and we ate him for Sunday lunch.” The children gasped in horror. “But don’t worry children, as long as I’m around, this Ducky will be a pet, not food.” They smiled in relief and hugged him, but carefully enough not to squish the duck.

Of course, eventually the parents found out about Ducky – the small ball of feathers began making journeys from the back garage into the house and the scent (and consistency) of his poo was not ignorable. Also, his merry ‘quack’ when taking a dip in the small pool whence his egg was found was not the quietest. Though he never learnt to fly, his love for swimming diving and walking gave him a very well-built figure that played with mother Dvořák’s imagination. She simply always felt the desire to cook a traditional Czech dish with him as the star ingredient. She said:

“Imagine – duck with dumplings and red sauerkraut! The crispy skin, topped with soil and cumin! Oil running down your hands as you bite into the meat! What bliss!” Even the mouths of the children and grandpa began watering at the image, but a single look into the beady eyes of Ducky awakened them again. For entire months this continued – the mother, then also father Dvořák trying to convince the Ducky team to give him up. However, they persevered – for quite some time, as little Ducky grew into a handsome, green-headed adult duck.

One day, Johnny and Mary came home from school to find a large thing coming out of Ducky. They screamed and sprinted into the house to their mother (the only adult who was home at that time of day), telling her about it. With the tempting image of roasted duck with dumplings in her mind again, she smiled to herself and then ran into the back garage together with the children to see what was happening to Ducky. Indeed, there was a long thing coming out of him. She shook her head.

“What is happening to him, mami?” They inquired. She looked at them, as she replied:

“Children, Ducky is sick. That thing coming out of him is a tapeworm – it eats his insides and given its length, it’s been eating his insides for a long time already.” The children looked at Ducky who had his eyes closed. They began to cry and fell into their mother's embrace as she continued to reassure them that killing Ducky is the best they can do.

The children were disgusted and shocked when they had roasted Ducky for lunch a few days later - it was a Sunday. They barely touched it, but father and mother Dvořáks were happy beyond words. Suddenly, grandpa appeared, arriving from the graveyard.

“Roasted duck? Goodie!” He sat down and began feasting, but the children staring at him in pure horror. Johnny even began sobbing.

“What is wrong, my boy?” asked grandpa Dvořák. Mary put her hand on her brother’s shoulder, between her own tears she slowly responded:

“That-was-Ducky!” And together, the children abruptly left the room into their own from which further crying could be heard. Grandpa looked back at the parents.

“Why?”

“He was... sick.” Mother responded passively.

“How ‘sick’? He was as healthy as my Donald was in his young years!”

“There was a black thing coming out of him.” Grandpa thought for a while.

“Describe the thing?”

“Well, it was long, black-er and uh,-“

“Did it twist in circles, like a corkscrew?”

“Yes, yes.” The grandpa threw his fork and knife onto the table in anger.

“You fools! Ducky was not sick – he was a man duck when you saw him! Why, I thought you knew how duck penises look, Hana! You grew up on a farm too!”

“Indeed I knew,” his daughter-in-law responded. “But admit it – the children are far too young to know about these things.”

And having no argument, grandpa nodded in defeat and left his son and daughter-in-law to finish Ducky off.