Brune the Ducksitter

two

two

Brune knocked hesitantly, greeted only with silence. She rang the doorbell. A face finally emerged from the house. It poked its head through a crack in the door, then promptly shut it. The front door to Mrs. Cunningham’s house swung open.

“Welcome to the Cunningham residency. I trust you are Miss Hicklebeedittle?”

Brune had never seen such a severe looking face. 

“Yes, ma’am,” she squeaked, anxiously. “But please do call me Brune. No one should be burdened with trying to say Hicklebeetittle with a straight face every time they wish to address me.”

 Mrs. Cunningham sighed in relief. 

“Thank goodness. Do come in, then.”

Brune stepped into the house cautiously. The living room was dimly lit. Feathers were scattered over the floor and lay on curtains, shelves, and chairs. Mrs. Cunningham crossed the room quickly and drew back a set of heavy wool curtains. Light pooled in. Upon closer examination, Brune noticed that the feathers were of several different colorings. Whites, blacks, oranges, and hues of purple lay scattered. This must certainly mean that she has more than just one measly duck, she thought. 

A series of soft thuds, increasing rapidly in volume, sounded from a corridor to Brune’s left. A small red-orange bill emerged, followed rather quickly by a yellow and white head with a prominent metallic blue-green stripe down its forehead. His visage was really rather striking, and she soon found the duck’s body no less amazing. A rainbow of colors stretched over its body, save for a white belly. As it turned out, there was only one duck in the household, and it was this one.

He chirped curiously at Brune.

Mrs. Cunningham introduced the two, “This is Proteus. You will find he likes to spend most of his time in the backyard. In fact, he will likely be spending all of his time with you in the backyard. If it rains, make sure to bring him out."

She led Brune and Proteus into the backyard.

Right away, Brune noticed a very distinctive smell floating about. It was a little old and musty, but most of all, it was really moist. Brune hated the word, but it was the only good way to describe such a stench. Damp felt too mild, while moist was reminiscent of fungus and other moldy goop, which was relevant.

Yes, it was moist. Brune wrinkled her nose in distaste. She was wearing flip-flops, but was presently beginning to regret that decision. Brune could practically feel the moistness oozing up the thin sole of her shoe, creeping over her toes and up her calves. 

Neither Proteus nor Mrs. Cunningham seemed to share her impression, so Brune decided not to let it bother her, however eerily moist it was. To be clear, though, it really was very moist, and it would bother you, too. That was the nature of Mrs. Cunningham’s backyard. 

The yard itself most resembled a very small bog. Very splashy. Brune did doubt whether it was a suitable environment for a duck, but decided that, after all, Mrs. Cunningham was the expert, not she. Therefore, it must be fine. Then, however, Mrs. Cunningham spoke.

“Oh, it is a shame. Proteus was always meant to live in a forest, but this backyard is so ding-dong moist.”

Brune cringed at the dreaded word. 

She continued, “In fact, the yard is so moist, it just wouldn’t grow into a respectable forest no matter how hard I tried. No matter, as it turns out. Proteus quite likes the wetlands, and so long as he is happy, I am happy.”

Proteus trilled abruptly, then poked his bill and most of his head down into a particularly muddy area. Seconds later, he emerged with a small fish hanging by its tail in his mouth, which was floundering around as if its life depended on it. Of course, its life did actually depend on it, so it fluttered and twitched all the more violently. At a particularly strong flick of the tail, Proteus cawed in alarm and dropped it back into the water.

Mrs. Cunningham smiled affectionately at the puddle.

“That was Tasha. Proteus is an astoundingly poor hunter. I know all 7 fish in the area by name, as he always drops them anyways. I have to hand feed him beef jerky. Exclusively beef jerky. The bag’s by the door, by the way.”

Tasha pranced around beneath the surface extravagantly. Brune found herself questioning her sanity. 

Proteus nudged her hand expectantly. Brune guessed that his ego had been hurt and needed some rekindling. Ruminating on some meaty salt-bombs, fed directly into his mouth likely seemed a wise course of action for him. Brune filled her palm with small bits of jerky. Proteus snorted greedily at her and snuffed up the little snacks.

Mrs. Cunningham smiled fondly at him and continued.

“Sadly, the nutritional values of commercial beef jerky are lacking. I have to make it myself. For extra nutrients, I melt gummy vitamins into the marinade, and I also mix in protein shake powder. He still has to be constantly snacking on it throughout the day, but eventually, the job gets done.”

Brune blanched. I guess I’m more ignorant on the subject of ducks than I thought. Well, I guess this’ll be a pretty drastic learning experience. There are so many misconceptions around, aren’t there? She thought.

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. I’ve already learned so much, you’ll never believe it.”

She patted Proteus on the head in admiration. She could never even think of tolerating that much beef jerky in her life. Truly amazing.

Mrs. Cunningham sighed wistfully.

“I guess I should go over some general instruction. I suppose all duck owners are a little different and we do apply different techniques in looking after them. Really, the most important thing to know is that Proteus should never be unoccupied. If he doesn’t want to try his hand at hunting, so be it. Feed him, or take him on a walk, if he’s a little agitated. It’s always best to remain calm in any situation. The leash is hanging on the hook atop the front door, through which you came.

“At precisely 2 pm, Proteus will need a massage. Lightly massage his head, neck, back, and stomach. For the love of ducks, though, stay away from his feet. They can be quite deadly. In fact, I wonder at his not using them on the hunt.”

Abruptly, Mrs. Cunningham snapped her head towards the analog clock on the wall. She suddenly rushed back to the door and sped through the house to the front door. She threw off her galoshes and jammed her feet into a fair of flats. 

“Brune, I have to leave now. Good luck, and I’ll be back within 6 hours!”

The door slammed shut behind her. Jogging footsteps receded down the street, then abruptly turned around and sprinted back. Car doors slammed, and with a squeal of tires, Mrs. Cunningham was gone. 

“I guess it’s just you and me now, Proteus.” sighed Brune. She looked around.

“Proteus?”

No sound from within the house. A faint gurgling noise from the backyard.

"Proteus?!"
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A/N
So the duck up top is a mandarin duck. Proteus is a mandarin duck. Pretty colorful, right?
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