RAISING HARLEY ©
by
Mary Tomasi-Dubois
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2009 Mary Tomasi Dubois
Discover other titles by Mary Tomasi Dubois at
Smashwords.com
The Mariner’s Secret at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1408
Danger in the Jeweled City at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1414
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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To Karen, Michelle, Joseph, and Christopher.
My thanks to Jan Ewers and Pat Lang for their time in reading and editing this book, and to Karen for telling me the true story of Harley.
CHAPTER 1: What Did Michelle Find?
“What have you found?” Joseph asked, as Christopher came running alongside to see what Michelle and Mom were looking at.
It was an early spring morning, and Michelle Jones and her brothers were helping their mom, Karen, do yard chores.
There had been an especially heavy rain the night before, with lightning and high winds. The yard was filled with debris, and Michelle even found Chester’s dog dish from next door. It lay amongst a pile of fallen palm fronds, upside down, so that only the letters TER could be seen.
When Michelle bent over to pick it up, she found one perfect, large white egg resting in the now warm grass. It had been protected by Chester’s dish. As she picked it up and began wiping it clean, her mom came over and they both checked for cracks. It was in perfect shape.
It wasn’t unusual to find all sorts of interesting stuff in your yard the morning after such a storm. And it was always fun to find out to whom the various things might belong.
“This isn’t an ordinary chicken egg,” Mom said. “This is a duck egg. We’ll have to see who might be raising ducks and return the egg to its mother. In the mean time, we’ll keep it warm and safe.”
So, Christopher emptied his rollerblade box. Michelle donated an old flannel nightgown. And Joseph looked through the garage for an old desk lamp. Mom said, “Good—now let’s put the flannel gown in the box.” Michelle carefully laid the egg in the middle of the flannel nest, they set the box on a work table next to the kitchen stove, then Joseph placed the lamp next to the box and adjusted it to shine directly over the egg.
“Fine,” Mom said. “Now, let’s see if we can find that little orphaned egg’s home.” And as she headed into the house, she said she’d call the neighbors. “I’ll get the word out that we’ve found a duck egg in our yard and see if anyone has heard of someone raising ducks nearby.”
The children decided they could cover more ground by splitting up. “You take our side of the street Chris,” Michelle directed, “and you take the other side Joe. I’m going inside to make a sign, then I’ll take it to McDougle’s store and see if they’ll post it.” Michelle created a colorful 8 ½” X 11” sign on her computer using her desktop publishing software—it read:
BEAUTIFUL DUCK EGG FOUND!
LOOKING FOR OWNER
PLEASE CALL: 555-4012
That afternoon, because everyone had gotten so wrapped up in trying to reunite the little egg with its mother, they were exhausted—and a little sad. The Jones children had knocked on every door for two blocks, but to no avail. In fact, they were so exhausted they didn’t even have their usual lively conversation at lunch.
While clearing the table with her mom, Michelle asked what was to happen with the egg if they couldn’t find its mother. “Let’s not worry about that now, dear, everything will be OK. You’ll see,” she said. “We’ll keep it safe and warm ’til we do.”
But Michelle couldn’t stop worrying. After all, she was twelve, well almost twelve, and in little over a year she’d be 13—a teenager well on her way to becoming an adult. And anyway, it was she who had found the egg in the first place, so shouldn’t she be the one to take responsibility for it?
CHAPTER 2: The New Family Member
Every morning, the first thing the Jones children did when they walked into the kitchen was check on the egg. Michelle was the most concerned and she’d give a long, slow sigh. She knew that with each passing day their chances for finding the little egg’s mother would be more and more difficult. Mom watched the children as she prepared breakfast, feeling a little sad too, because the first thing she did when she walked into the kitchen each morning was check the egg.
Then one morning, Michelle, who was the first one up, was tying her robe and yawning on her way into the kitchen. She looked into the box and saw the egg moving. A little crack had formed and it was getting bigger and bigger. As she bent down to get a better look, she heard pecking noises from inside the egg. Then, suddenly, one small cHonk of shell fell—then another, larger one. Right there, before her eyes, stood a wet, bulging-eyed duckling!
“Cheep, Cheep,” it said—trying to stand. “Well, hello little one,” Michelle said. “Welcome to the world.” And she stood there looking at the little duck who had finally gained enough strength in his tiny legs to stand. The wet feathers were already starting to dry as Michelle said, “I’ll bet you’re hungry. Hmmm, what would a little duck like to eat?”
Michelle walked to the refrigerator and took out the hamburger meat her mom had bought for the family’s weekend barbecue. “Here, Harley,” she found herself calling him. (Harley motorcycles had been her dad’s favorite. A melancholy smile came over Michelle’s face as she remembered her turn to ride around the block with Dad on his Harley. She could even remember the smell of his leather jacket as she tightly clutched her arms around him.)
The little duck’s cries brought her back to reality and she extended her hand to offer him a little bit of the meat on the tip of her finger. “Cheep, cheep,” Harley said thanking her, and gobbled up his meal. “Cheep, cheep,” he said again—“I want more.”
Mom and the boys walked into the kitchen, rubbing their sleepy eyes to the site of Michelle and the fuzzy yellow mass now standing in the box.
“Well, what have we got here?” Mom said, smiling.
“Wow, a baby duck. Wow!” Chris had never seen a duckling that had just popped out of its shell before. Joseph bent down and scratched the little ducks head.
“Oh, please Mom—can we keep him,” asked Michelle.
“Yes, I guess we’ll have to. No one has responded to the sign you posted. None of us have been able to find his mother, so I guess we’re his family now.”
“Oh, thanks Mom,” Michelle said as she threw her arms around her mother’s neck and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.
“But, Michelle…” Mom started in that familiar motherly tone the children were use to when she was about to get serious. “There are a few rules that’ll have to be followed—you too boys. Or we’ll just have to take him right down to the petting zoo.”
“OK, Mom,” Michelle said as she bent over the table, scratching Harley’s little head, too.
“Boys?”
“Rules - I heard, Mom,” said Joseph.
“Chris. What about you?” Mom asked.
“Gee, Mom—he’s not my duck.” Christopher didn’t think he had to be concerned about the rules. Wasn’t it Michelle who always wanted a pet? Didn’t she always go visit Chester, the neighbor dog? Why should the rules apply to him?
“You’re part of this family aren’t you?” Mom answered, almost as if she could read his thoughts. “So, that makes you responsible too.”
“Yes ma’am,” Chris said, knowing there was no arguing with Mom’s logic.
“All right then. When he’s old enough, he’ll have to be kept in a cage outside. You can let him out in the yard when you’re home. But you’ll have to watch him so he doesn’t wander into someone else’s yard. No bringing him inside. Understood?”
“Yeah, Mom, OK,” they all answered.
Michelle decided to visit the library that afternoon.
“Hello, Mrs. Raintree,” Michelle said to the Resource Librarian.
“Why, hello Michelle. What can I help you with today?” Mrs. Raintree said, delighted to see Michelle again. She wished other children had as much enthusiasm for libraries as Michelle.
Even though the school year had just ended, Michelle still liked visiting the library. And, even though she often used her computer to get information or learn about a new subject, she thought the library was better. The books had a wonderful smell. She especially liked the ones with leather bindings and gold lettering.
All that information in one place. Michelle thought. And Mrs. Raintree knows just where to look.
“I’d like some information about raising ducks, please Mrs. Raintree.”
“Raising ducks, hmm. That’d be waterfowl. Yes, I think that’s the best way to start searching for that.” And Mrs. Raintree began typing in her search request at the terminal on her desk, peering at the screen over the half-moon glasses perched on the tip of her nose.
Mrs. Raintree never seemed surprised by any request on any subject. She always looked for several books to thoroughly cover whatever was asked for, and with such enthusiasm you’d think it was a search for her own favorite subject.
Mrs. Raintree jotted down something from the screen and disappeared into the stacks of resource books. She emerged with an armful.
Agrarian Life for The New Millennium; Waterfowl of North America; Ducks in My Backyard; the titles stared up at Michelle as Mrs. Raintree laid them on the research table.
“This should get you started, dear. There are two resource books, and I thought this one might be interesting; it’ll give you first-hand information on raising ducks, because it was written from personal experience. I even think the author lives near here,” Mrs. Raintree said, pointing to the Ducks in My Backyard book. “If you need more, just ask. I’ll be right there at my desk.”
Michelle opened the book with the picture of a cute little duckling on the cover first. One of its eyes was almost hidden by a mass of fuzz and it was tilting its head, exactly like Chester the neighbor dog, who did the same thing whenever he thought you might be eating something yummy.
‘Want to get started raising ducks; want to know why you should?’ “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to know,” Michelle said in a whisper.
‘There are many reasons,’ the book continued. Not only are they beautiful, but they’re regular clowns, too. And their antics will keep you entertained for hours. They’ll eat those bothersome snails and slugs, and they’ll lay enough eggs to stock your pantry, with plenty left over to give to friends.’
“Eggs,” Michelle said, so loud that she looked around to see if her outburst had disturbed the other researchers. “Eggs,” she said again more quietly. “Gosh! What if Harley’s a girl duck. Is Harlina a girl name?” After further research, Michele would discover that it would be months before she could determine if Harley was a boy or girl. She’d have to watch to see how the center tail feather grew. If it curled forward, she had a boy.
Michelle read and took notes for almost an hour. “There; this should convince Mom that keeping Harley is a good idea.”
After a few weeks, Harley was old enough to be taken outside. Joseph and Christopher agreed to help Michelle build a portable pen with some old baby gates Mom had used to keep them all in her sight and out of danger when they were toddlers.
“Now see, I can move this around the yard the way the research book explained. That way he’ll have new grazing ground to hunt for bugs, but won’t be in one spot long enough to destroy the grass,” Michelle said when they were finished.
“But what are you going to do for shelter when he has to be kept outside all the time?” Joseph asked. “He can’t stay outside without a place to sleep.”
“I know,” Michelle answered. “I was thinking of asking Mrs. Green if she still had a use for that old doghouse in her back yard. Maybe she’ll let me buy it.”
“How are you going to buy it? You spend all your allowance as soon as you get it. I’ll bet you don’t have any money saved up - do you?”
Joseph always had a way of getting under Michelle’s skin. She didn’t like the way he always tried to boss everyone around, which was especially true since Mom told him he was the man of the house. He sure was a long way from being a man in Michelle’s mind, even if he was already fourteen. The only time he was useful was when she teamed up with him to tease Christopher.
“Well, maybe I could do some chores for her in exchange,” Michelle said, not really answering Joseph’s question.
“Oh, yeah, that’ll be the day—you volunteering to do chores?” Joseph said, adding as he walked off, “OK, Michelle, you owe me one for helping with the portable pen.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Michelle said, begrudgingly. She was a little upset, because she knew deep down that her brother was right. She hadn’t ever actually volunteered to do chores. But this was different.
Christopher said he’d help with whatever chores Mrs. Green asked Michelle to do, and in spite of himself, he was happy Mom had agreed to let Harley stay.
“Thanks, Chris, you’re a real brother,” Michelle said as she kissed him on the forehead just like Mom always did when she was happy with one of her children.
This annoyed Christopher, because it made him feel as though Michelle was treating him like a baby. Being the youngest was terrible. Everyone always called you the baby of the family, and you always had to try and prove them wrong.
Out of spite, he was just about to tell Michelle he’d forgotten that he had something else to do when she said, “Your good at yard chores and stuff and I could really use your help.”
When Mrs. Green stepped out of her house and into the front yard the next day, she said, “Oh, what a great job. The yard looks great!” Wait here, I’ll be right back.” And she disappeared into the garage. A few minutes later she came out pushing a wheelbarrow with what looked like a cage in it. Not only was Mrs. Green letting Michelle take her old doghouse, but she was throwing in a small carrying cage too; she was so happy with the job Michelle, Christopher, and Joseph had done. (Joseph had wandered over to Mrs. Green’s house when he saw Michelle and Chris working in the front yard and decided to help by mowing the lawn while they weeded.)
Michelle was the one who spent the most time with Harley, so everyone just assumed he was her pet. She followed the rules Mom had set for keeping Harley—at least in the beginning. But, after a while, she did let Harley in the house and Mom had to set new rules.
“When he’s in, you bring his cage in too. Keep it in the hall. And no feeding him when he’s out of that cage. Understood everyone?” Mom added, just in case anyone else was to play with Harley.
“OK, Mom,” they all said again.
Everyone in the Jones household liked the name Michelle had given their little family member. “Harley, come here,” Michelle always said as she lay on the floor. And little Harley always jumped up on her tummy and cheeped contentedly as she scratched his little head.
“Come here, Harley,” Christopher would say, and Harley would run over to him to chase the little rubber ball Chris would roll along the floor.
“Here Harley,” Joseph would call, tossing down a potato chip against his mother’s protests, as Harley ran towards him.
Even Mom enjoyed Harley. “Here sweetie,” she would say as she gave him crumbled up wheat crackers in his cage.
But, the one Harley followed most was Michelle, his new Mom. His cage had gone from the yard, to the hall, to Michelle’s room. Harley liked sitting on Michelle’s bed, watching her do homework. He even sat patiently on the laundry room floor, listening to her hum and fold clothes. This was one of those chores Michelle did reluctantly. She found it boring and thought it a waste of time. After all, the cloths were going to get wrinkled and dirty all over again. Then they’d have to be washed and folded—couldn’t someone invent something you could just spray on, and the dirt and wrinkles would just evaporate. She’d have to think about that. Maybe she’d come up with something using the science kit she’d gotten last Christmas.
Harley followed Michelle to the bedrooms as she placed the folded clothes in the dressers. His most favorite time, though, was when Michelle filled the bathtub with warm water for her evening bath. She’d sneak him into the bathroom, and he’d wait patiently for her to climb in. Then, he’d wiggle his little tail and jump in after her, cheeping away as he swam in little circles. “You’re better than having a little rubber ducky.” Michelle laughed, watching Harley happily swimming around.
While Michelle was rinsing with the hand shower and drying herself off, Harley would jump on the edge of the tub and shake all over, tossing every last drop of water form his tiny, furry feathers.
Then they’d both settle in bed and Michelle would sing him to sleep—“Hush little Harley don’t you cry—I’m gonna teach you how to fly. Then when the fly’ns done— I‘m gonna teach you how to run—, hmm, hmm…”
CHAPTER 3: Harley’s New Pond
As the weeks grew into months, little Harley grew, too; his fuzzy yellow feathers were replaced by beautiful, sleek white ones.
The portable pen and cage were too bothersome for Michelle, and so she used them less and less, letting Harley wander in the yard as she did yard chores or lay sunning. At first it was fun having Harley follow her everywhere and she dutifully kept a strict eye out for him. But over time, that too became bothersome, and she’d leave him outside, alone, while she went off to go watch TV or visit a friend.
At first Harley kept to one spot in the backyard near the back door, but slowly he began to explore more of the yard on his own, becoming braver and braver each day. He would check under bushes for juicy slugs, and under leaves for hiding bugs. Mom noticed that Michelle wasn’t following through with her responsibility, though, and would gently remind Michelle of her duties by asking how Harley was doing. Oh my gosh, Michelle would think to herself, I forgot all about him. Then she’d run to the screen door and whistle, and a few moments later Harley would come running.
One time, though, when Michelle had again forgotten about leaving Harley alone, he had wandered into their neighbor’s yard as Mom had predicted. He had spied the garden, planted in raised beds. Harley looked at all the tender green leaves. As ducks will eat just about any vegetation, he poked at one especially inviting plant, but was suddenly stopped by the square-grid fence that enclosed the entire area.
He tried again, and again his bill came up against the impeding wire. But, instead of giving up and waddling back to his own yard, he decided to check out the whole perimeter of the fence, stopping only long enough to poke at it every now and then.
Finally, he checked nearer to the ground. There he found an opening where one of the wires from the grid was missing and slowly poked his head through. When it slipped easily to the other side, he began gobbling up snails. There were so many near the base of the tomato bush that he forgot about green leaves. When all the snails within his reach had been eaten, Harley decided to start on the tomatoes; they smelled so good.
Unfortunately, they were all higher than he could reach. He’d have to back out and hope to find a way to get at them.
Slowly he moved his head backwards with the same amount of caution and concentration he had used to get it through the fence in the first place. A terrible ‘ugh’ sound came out of his throat when he felt the restraint of the wire around his neck.
Harley paused for a moment as if to say: It’s OK, slowly now, move forward, then back again.
Harley moved his head slowly forward. When he felt the noose-like grip around his neck loosen, he slowly backed up again; but this time the fence seemed to grab him even tighter than before.
Harley began pulling and squawking wildly. Finally, in exasperation, he lay on the ground so that the wire exerted less pressure, and gave out a mournful whistly sound, hoping Michelle would hear him.
It would have been quite a site if anyone had been there to see him. He looked as though he was being prepared for slaughter with his head held down and his neck stretched out, as though ready to be severed with a hatchet.
Agnes Cooper moved the sheer curtains and looked out her kitchen window. What could that awful sound be? Not seeing anything, she went back to tending her breakfast dishes in the sink.
Again came the strange mournful cry. This time Agnes decided to go outside and check. When she got to the far side of her garden beds, she saw Harley laying there. When he saw her he half stood, digging his flat feet into the ground to get traction, and started pulling his head against the fence’s resistance, squawking wildly again.
“Oh, you poor thing. Be still now, I’ll get Michelle,” Agnes said when she realized she had panicked Harley.
She stepped back into her kitchen and called the Jones house. “Hello, Karen? This is Agnes. There’s someone here I think Michelle would be interested in. What? Yes, it’s Harley, and I think she’s the only one he’d be happy to see right now.”
When Michelle returned home with Harley in her arms, she tried to slip past her Mother’s detection and to the side yard to look for Harley’s pen.
As she was setting it up, Mom came outside, obviously upset. “Michelle, what have I told you about leaving him alone unattended. Didn’t I tell you something like this would happen? You’re just lucky he wasn’t hurt—or worse. What if he’d gone into the Brown’s yard? Chester would’ve scared the heck out of him.” And then in a softer tone she added, “You’ve assumed responsibility for him, dear. You have to think about the consequences.”
“Yes ma’am, I know,” Michelle said, and vowed to be more responsible and spend more time with Harley.
Michelle stuck to her resolve and over the next few weeks, because of all the time she was spending with Harley, she decided to teach him tricks. She just knew he could learn them since he had caught on to the game of ball whenever Chris would roll it across the floor. If he can do that, I’ll bet he can learn to do other things too, she thought.
One game she taught him was ‘hide-and-seek’, only Michelle didn’t hide herself; she hid objects instead. At first it was little pieces of bread or cracker. When Harley understood how the game worked, she began hiding scraps of colored paper, then small objects. One time it was a thimble. Another time it was a key, and still another it was a ring from a gumball machine. Harley enjoyed searching for the items and then bringing them to Michelle. He enjoyed the game so much he even decided to create his own version.
One day, while Michelle was sunning herself, laying on a blanket in the backyard, Harley came up to her and began pecking on the ground at her feet, then he ran into the thicket of trees bordering their yard and looked back. When Michelle just continued sitting there, he ran back and started all over again.
Finally, Michelle got up and followed Harley, wondering what was going on. When they reached the spot Harley had led her to, he scratched the ground at the base of a tree. Once all the moss and wild grass had been pushed aside, he pointed with his bill. Michelle looked down: There on the ground were what looked like a million bugs.
Yuck! Michelle thought as Harley seemed to smile up at her just before he bent his head and gobbled up as many as he could.
“Yuck,” Michelle said out loud.
Another time, he excitedly led Michelle to a small pond he had found. It was more of a mud puddle left from the last rain, but when they reached it, Harley gave his smiley look and jumped in.
Michelle enjoyed Harley’s version of the game as much as he enjoyed hers. But, after their last foray into the woods, she decided to create a proper duck pond for Harley.
“Mom, is there anything I can use for Harley to swim in?” Michelle asked one afternoon as she helped her Mom with lunch dishes.
“What about that old plastic pool you kids use to play in?” Mom said as she wiped the stove.
“Oh, that’s too shallow. Besides, I think we put it out for the neighborhood ‘Clean Sweep Drive.’ ”
“Well, what about that old galvanized tub then - we still have that don’t we?”
“Oh, that would be perfect. Can I use it then, Mom?”
“Sure, go ahead dear,” Mom said smiling. She was proud of Michelle’s renewed sense of responsibility for Harley.
Michelle decided that instead of just sitting the tub on the lawn, she would dig a hole deep enough so that the tub’s rim would be even with the ground once it was set inside. When she had finally finished and the tub sat inside the hole, Michelle began gathering round rocks from the thicket of trees. At first she carried as many small ones as she could in her old beach bucket. She placed them around the tub, creating a ring of rocks about four inches wide.
This will be a nice place for him to stand without getting all muddy, she thought.
On one of her trips into the thicket she came upon a bed of rocks of every size, shape, and color. Michelle couldn’t resist them. Some had sparkles, as though gold dust had been sprinkled all over them. Others had beautiful dark veins running through them, and Michelle wondered if they were marble. She picked up the biggest, but it was too heavy and she dropped it halfway to her construction site. She looked at it laying there and wondered what to do.
“Oh, I know. But it’s going to take all day working at this rate.” Michelle tossed her flaxen hair out of her eyes and held it back with the scrunchy she had around her wrist. She didn’t want to be distracted. This was serious business.
Michelle rummaged around the garage for the small wheelbarrow Christopher use to play with, and even though she had to stoop a little to use it, after about five trips into the woods she had enough rocks to begin her construction: It would be a rock waterfall. When she was halfway through, she stretched the garden hose over to the pond.
The hose is green…Great!, she thought. It’ll be easier to hide along the edge of the grass; that way the pond will look more natural, like it’s been here all along.
She finished putting the last large rock in position. Now that she was done, she stood back and looked at the little makeshift pond she had just created.
Hmm, she thought. Something’s missing---I know.
She brought her mother’s potted flowers and ivy from the patio and placed them at the base of the waterfall.
“Perfect,” she said, then whistled and Harley came running.
“Look what I’ve made you. I’ll bet it’s the best duck pond in the county.”
Michelle went to the spigot and Harley watched, standing next to the pond where she had left him. The gush of water hitting the metal tub startled him. But he was excited to see water puddling in the bottom, and went closer to the edge.
Michelle slowed the stream to a trickle, and Harley jumped in.
“MOM, JOE, CHRIS, COME HERE. QUICK!”
Mom ran out with Christopher close behind.
“What Michelle, what’s wrong?” Mom asked.
“Look what I made for Harley,” Michelle said, proud of her accomplishment.
Mom just stood there for a while, smiling. “Very clever, Michelle, and very artistic.”
“Cool,” Chris said.
Joseph finally meandered out. “What’s all the fuss?”
“Look what ‘chell made,” Chris said.
“What’s that supposed to be? Pretty lame if you ask me,” Joseph said with a laugh.
“Now Joseph,” Mom interrupted. “She obviously worked very hard to create that.”
Joseph looked over at Michelle. She was covered from head to toe in dirt, but had a triumphant smile on her muddy face. “It’s your idea of a pond for Harley right?” Joseph said. He loved teasing Michelle and took advantage of every chance he got. Michelle was just glad none of her girlfriends were visiting this time.
“Yes,” answered Michelle. “And I’ll bet it’s the best pond in the whole world!” she added with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances.
“Yeah? Well the other ponds are probably made of dirt bottoms,” Joe quipped.
Why does he always think he knows everything? Michelle thought. Teenagers! I know why Mom always says that, forgetting that she would be one in a few short years. “So—mine won’t be so muddy,” Michelle answered, defending her creation.
“No, it’ll just be green with algae and full of duck poop—not to mention all the mosquitoes!” Joseph said with a smirk, knuckling Michelle on the head, and he walked back into the house, engrossed in his Game Boy again.
Ugh, older brothers, she hated when Joseph did that.
“Joseph’s right, Michelle,” Mom said. “Most ponds leech out and are fed by streams. The man-made ones have to be drained and scraped clean. But more importantly, Michelle, you didn’t ask if you could do this. You know we’re just renting, and we’re not allowed to change things without permission.”
Then Mom added as she walked back into the house, “You can keep your pond for a few days, but it’ll have to be taken apart when it gets dirty. And then you’ll have to repair the lawn.”
Michelle’s heart sank. She wished she had been more thorough in her research on raising ducks. She had skipped the chapter on actually building a pond.
Two weeks later, Michelle sadly took the pond apart. But a week before that, the waterfall had lain in a pile of rubble. It seems that Christopher had pulled on the hose so he could water the patio plants for Mom. When the hose stubbornly stayed put, Chris tugged with all his strength and it finally gave way causing him to fall backwards as the hose scattered rocks everywhere.
Joseph reluctantly agreed to help Michelle pull the tub out of its hole. It was only half full of water now, since the hot sun had evaporated most of it. What remained, though, was gross. It smelled like swamp water, and Michelle could see mosquito larvae swimming in snapping movements in the green slime. Joseph was tempted to say ‘I told you so’, but restrained himself when he saw how heartbroken Michelle was that her pond idea wouldn’t work permanently.
They drained the tub’s contents at the edge of the grass next to the thicket. Then Michelle filled in the hole left by the pond with its original dirt, sprinkled grass seed over the bald spot, watered it well, and finally placed Harley’s pen around it as protection.
Once again Harley was left outside without the constraints of a pen or Michelle’s scrutinizing eyes. And, once again, he wandered off into Agnes Cooper’s yard, right for the vegetable beds. This time, though, half the fault was due to Agnes’ failure to close the gate to her fenced-in garden.
She had picked lettuce, cucumber, zucchini, bell peppers, and vine-ripened tomatoes warmed by the afternoon sun for her evening salad. When the smell of the tomatoes overpowered her, she just had to eat one. She was so lost in a daydream over its heavenly taste that she forgot about the gate.
Harley spotted the opening and waddled right in heading straight for the tomatoes. Their fragrance had bewitched him too. First he feasted on a few small tomatoes, then on tomato leaves. When he had had enough salad he went to the main course of snails, getting in amongst the tightly spaced bush trunks to eat every last one he could find.
It was when Agnes was at her kitchen sink, washing her salad vegetables that she spotted Harley. “EEEK,” she screamed and ran out of the house with broom in hand, right after him.
“NO, NO. NOT MY PRIZED TOMATOES!” she shouted.
Michelle felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise at the sound of Agnes’ shrieks. She suddenly remembered that she’d forgotten Harley again. Sheepishly she looked up at her Mom, who had just stepped outside to check on the progress of Michelle’s lawn patch, praising her for a job well done when Agnes’ shrieks began.
Mom looked down at Michelle, and Michelle could tell by the look in her eyes that things weren’t going to be so easy this time.
“Michelle,” Mom said with a raise in her voice at the end. That’s it, I’m afraid Harley must go to the petting zoo.”
CHAPTER 4: Is This Good-bye?
The next morning Michelle awoke with a headache and red, swollen eyes. She had had a fitful night, crying herself to sleep and then awakening after nightmares of Harley being led off to the gallows by hooded men ready to chop off his head.
She slowly walked into the kitchen, the last one to sit down to breakfast. Normally, an incident of this nature would launch all kinds of needling from her brothers, especially Joseph. But they were sad at the thought of Harley leaving their household too, and sorry for Michelle and Harley. Everyone sat in silence, including Mom.
Michelle decided that the grownup thing to do would be to put her saved up allowance in an envelope. She was proud of her new self-restraint and ability to avoid the temptation to spend all her money. She had saved almost three dollars with the plan of buying Harley a collar with his name on it. Now, though, she would give it all to Ms. Cooper, with an apology for damages done. She would even offer to do chores if the money wasn’t enough to cover what was lost.
Michelle went to her room to dress, gather the money, and say a long good-bye to Harley, who was sitting in his cage in her room wondering why he hadn’t been let out into the yard yet.
“Now Harley, be a good duck, and mind your new owners. You’ll enjoy all the people that will come to see you. I’ll bet you’ll be the most popular duck of the whole petting zoo. And you’ll get all sorts of good things to eat.”
Then suddenly Michelle began to sob. “Oh, Harley, I hope the owners of the petting zoo love you as much as I do.” And her mind wandered to all the good and not so good times she’d had with Harley. She felt badly about scolding him for leaving brown smelly messes on the floor knowing it was really her fault for letting him out of his cage in the first place. She swore that if she could just keep him, she would never again complain about having to clean them up.
When she had finally dressed and was headed out to the living room carrying Harley in his cage with one hand and the money envelope with the other, the doorbell rang.
“Now who could that be at this early hour?” Mom said. When she reached the entry she could see through the door’s window who it was. Agnes Cooper stood there, looking down with what seemed like a scowl. But then you could never tell with Agnes; she seemed to have a perpetual scowl and yet had the sweetest temperament.
“Oh dear, it’s Ms. Cooper. I wonder what it is this time.”
Michelle swallowed hard and held her breath. Mom opened the door. “Oh, hi Agnes, come in, please.”
Hello, Karen. Is Michelle here?”