A Year of Stories (Collection Four)

A Mallard is my Wife's Best Friend

Dear Professor Saxs,

I saw her again today.

She was standing at the north shore of the Wandering Spring. Where in creation the Spring actually found itself this afternoon is anyone's guess, of course, but I tell you that she was there.

She looked well, all things considered, though she did seem a little sad.

Before you jump to any conclusions, let me remind you that there is absolutely no reason to believe that her current bout of melancholy has anything at all to do with you.

She might have just had a bad meal...or a bad date...

Kidding.

Speaking of companionship, she had a duckling with her, a haughty thing, with bright yellow feathers and a crimson tail.

They were talking at length about... something, whatever it is that birds and men have to talk about, I suppose. From where I was perched, I couldn't hear much, and I thought it would impolite to get any closer.

Impolite and dangerous.

Last time I went on this little field trip, I saw the Ferryman, and worse, he saw me. Given his temperament, I didn't think it would be prudent to antagonize him further by bothering his guests.

As you've mentioned so many times in class, he doesn't take well to our kind barging into his home, and if he knew why I was really there, I don't imagine he would be amused.

She left after about an hour, the duck stayed, deciding to take a little bath – as is their want.

I went to talk to him, after I thought she was safely away, of course.

Unfortunately, he recognized me as a tourist at once, and clammed up in the way only mallards can.

Before you pull me out of my dorm again, yes, I did ask the question. While he was less than forthcoming about details, according to him, Erika had never mentioned a Professor Aldo Saxs, nor was he aware that she had ever been married.

This is probably not worth getting upset about, considering my source was a talking duck, but seeing as this isn't the first...or second...or even third time you've heard similar news, it's starting to look like a pattern.

I've been in your program for nearly four years now, and I think of you not just as a teacher but as a friend, so I say this with all the love and respect in my heart...

Erika has been dead for five years now, and hasn't even attempted to make contact.

I know you love her, and I'm sure she loved you, but don't you think it's time to move on and let her live a little?

Yours,

Ashby Parker