BACKTRACKING
It was a Drake and
Stormy Night
by Terry Hogan
It was a drake and stormy night. Donald stood along the edge of the
lake. Rain poured down and beaded
off his feathery white back.
Lightning flashed as quickly as an ax on a Thanksgiving turkey. It made him shudder. It was strange weather for December in
Illinois. Lake Bracken was rising
to fill its banks. The recently formed ice groaned in its death throws as it
rose and heaved carrying the load of rainwater. The groan was like the sound of
an elephant giving birth to triplets.
But Donald the drake was worried about Ruby.
Where was she? How would she
survive in this terrible weather?
And what was the real story about that old man who claimed he needed her
help to help the children? Donald
didn't believe it for a second. It
made him so angry that he clenched his beak so tight that it would have hurt
his teeth, if he had any. He
always worried about Ruby. She was
a downy soft touch. She'd fall for a sob story like a kingfisher for a shad. He
worried it was all over but the splash.
The lightning streaked across the sky again,
followed by thunder that sounded like a 12 gauge shotgun from hell itself. It
made the lead pellets in his breast hurt just to hear the crash. His tension rose. His feathers stood on
end. He was so hot, he was about to singe. He listened for the faint whistle of Ruby's petite wings,
and he strained to see the seductive curl of her tail feathers. But there was not a gem in the
sky. Only sleet and then snow to
replace the rain.
He was temporarily warmed by the thought of
Ruby. Her fluffy feathers. The quiet little quack she'd whisper in
his ear, if he only had an ear.
He loved her waddle and the perfect "V" she made when she swam
in the lake. And when she'd tilt
forward to feed on the lake bottom and her bottom would rise up. Well, he just couldn't take his eyes
off her no matter how hard he tried.
He was, after all, a drake.
Until the stranger showed up, it looked like it
was going to be another normal winter at the lake - swimming around in tight circles to keep a small spot of
water open and waiting for the occasional handout of bread, corn, stale cookies and cake to be tossed
their way. But the strange man came.
He saw Ruby. And he began his tale of how he needed Ruby to help the
children. Donald thought, "I
need Ruby too." And she has her own pretty good tail. But there he was. Alone. He ached to the very end of his little webbed feet. Or perhaps that was from the dropping
temperature and the snow that was drifting over him. He missed Ruby. A good duck is hard to find.
Now some of you may think that you are galloping
way ahead of me. Some of you may
think that Ruby has a red bill and is going to guide a sleigh for this odd old
man. But some of you may be wrong.
Ruby did play a role with Santa on that magic
night. But she didn't lead the
sleigh with her beak so bright.
Rudolph had the role. And
the reindeer were a union shop.
No, Ruby was not even in harness.
Nor did she ride by Santa, using a duck's uncanny sense of migrational
abilities to guide him through the darkness. No, Ruby played none of these
rolls.
But as jolly Old Saint Nick flew through the sky
and shouted his "Ho, Ho, Ho", his big old belly shook. And he had to loosen his belt a notch.
Mrs. Claus had outdone herself with a fine dinner. And as Santa headed out from the North Pole, she was busy
making a down pillow for Santa.
Mrs. Claus was like the hog butchers of Chicago, who made use of
everything but the squeal.
Such was the way of Mrs. Claus. Yes, Ruby was
involved in slaying on Christmas Eve, but not the one you thought.
It was a drake and stormy night when Santa flew
over Lake Bracken. He didn't even
notice the lone duck swimming around in tight circles, looking frequently up
into the sky.
Not all wishes come true on Christmas
morning.
Snoopy heard of this sad tale of a lonely
duck. He decided it deserved to be
told. So he mounted his dog house,
and got out his old manual typewriter.
He began the novel that would win him a Pulitzer. His first line will
forever register in the hearts of the literate worldÉ.
"It was a drake and stormy night."
12-14-05
tmh