The Duck With One Leg

Twigtail was a duck who'd spent much of his life in hiding. Have you ever felt so different you couldn't face your tormentors? He had. He'd been born they said the last in his brood. He was last at most things. Last to hatch, last to the food, too scrawny so last to leave the nest and generally all round last choice. Even in duck nursery when they followed their mother to school he was last in line. And when he got there he always seemed last to be chosen. But there was one thing he seemed on an equal footing in and that was swimming. For although as he paddled so fast with all his might under the waters surface, he'd usually not go as quick, but his one leg was strong. He'd had weeks of building t up and at least on water things seemed more equal. And Twigtail had a secret he'd never confess to anyone. Nobody could see his one legged condition when he swam, and he felt safer and more normal. For that reason alone, Twigtail loved to swim.

"Hey Hopalong," the other chicks would taunt him, "where did you leave your other leg? He'd gotten used to being the butt of all their jokes and the one to be picked on. He thought if he could get fit and be bigger perhaps he might seem more intimidating and they wouldn't pick on him as much. It didn't work out that way because he worked so hard walking that he soon wore off any extra weight. So then he turned to his brain to impress them and tried very hard in lessons. But even that didn't work because he wasn't a particularly scholarly duckling. It wasn't from lack of effort and trying but it just didn't happen for him and they still poked fun and criticised. "Loser" "Freak" "Cripple" were all terms he was used to, and he'd hang his beak in shame. Slowly he began to get annoyed and angry. He'd answer back and give as good as he'd get. Sometimes his siblings would back him up, but many times they'd try to stay far away from him. Their disassociation was perhaps the hardest blow to bear. As he loved his family with all his heart, and he felt bad that he brought shame to them. It wasn't long before you Twigtail was in trouble.

There was a young gaggle of geese down by their local pond who always got the lion's share of bread. They honked so loud for attention people often focussed on them. But when Twigtail was around the pond all eyes were on him. They threw him "pity bread" as he'd call it, Even though he never asked to have it thrown his way. Sometimes he was so slow to dodge it that he'd often get hit. Some of those chunks were large enough to hurt. When the local kids saw this they were soon throwing their bread so hard and big just to see if they could knock him over. He hated that, so he generally stuck to the water where nobody could tell he was different. But this one day that goose gang were jealous ot the spoils he got and harassed him. They pecked him and pulled at his feathers and flew in his path. And he retaliated at just the wrong time and the Mallard Police arrested him. He was too slow to run away like the members of the gang did, so he paid the sing a public nuisance.

He was the young duck nobody liked having around. He had a police record and was falsely branded as an agitator. His miserable and sullen attitude was born of how others treated him. He really did try to fit in and that meant putting in twice the effort most other ducks did. He wasn't considered suitable for most jobs so he found his choice ot career limiting with his juvie record his parents were less likely to come and see him, so he built his nest on a remote log that seemed anchored just off the floating vegetation of the East bank of the river. It was quiet and away from prying eyes. He felt lonely and he missed having someone to share life with. Often the females would flirt and signal and give him the signs they were attracted to him. But as soon as he'd hit land or leave the water for his nest or theirs, it was a very different story. Their interest seemed to die a death. That crushed Twigtail's spirit inside. He was still the same duck. He still had the same feelings and wasn't immune to their changes of heart. He grew even more sad and quiet.

Then one day it came time for the annual Duck Race. A prestigious event where participants were allowed to enter for the worthy prize of tree sponsorship for the Duck Patrol. It was a much sought after elite squadron of ducks who did river and pond patrol for the whole county. They were the best paid employees in the district and it was a much coveted job. Generally it was the biggest ducks who did best in the race and usually only they entered. But there was a flurry round the island notice boards that day of the event when the list ot participants was displayed for later. For there bottom of The list was Twigtail's name! "It can't be!" exclaimed some, "young Hopalong? " laughed others, and none could believe he was being allowed to race. The kinder ones amongst them still objected as they felt it wasn't fair he should be allowed to participate against 'healthy' ducks. Sadly his own parents were amongst them and even some of his siblings. But the organizers voted them all down. Rules were rules and the competition was open to fair and square, so his nomination stood.

On the day of the race the sun decided to disappear and showers were forecast, but there was still a huge crowd. Not only ot ducks, but many species of birds as this was a Fair Species Birds of Tolerance sponsored event, and would include lots of marshland birds too. Usually the crowd cheered on their own, but nobody cheered poor Twigtail as he waddled down to the starting linc. When the honk from the starting swan went up, there was a mighty roar from the spectators and all hell let loose. It started to rain almost immediately and the track down to the waters edge, which was a considerable distance and quite a steep angle, became very muddy. Twigtail slid and slipped and mostly careened down on his backside to make it to the river where the bulk of the race would bc. The gang of young offending geese was there in the crowd and he was met with a barrage of mocking. "Hey Hoppy, give it up mate, my Gran is faster than you." "Stumpy, can't you slide any faster?" Even the ducks who were cheering other ducks on didn't rebuke them, they just clicked their beaks in embarrassment or agreement.

Twigtail paid them no heed. He had entered to prove something to himself not to them. He was focused on his own achievements, and he wasn't put off by silly jibes he'd heard a thousand times or more. And when he got to the water he felt all his worry evaporate. For in water he felt at home, he felt safe, he felt anything was possible. It was three times found the pond and a mile up river before he would reach the finishing line. But he'd already done the hardest part for him, the sprint on land. So he was feeling good despite the weather and the constant heckling. The hardest part of the course was the ponds East side where vegetation was thick and created blocks to a birds' path. That's why bigger birds tended to do better. But Twigtail had made his home here. He was a good Swimmer and he knew the quickest routes and hidden paths through the weed and lillies or over and through the reeds.

He had moved up fifteen places by lap one, and another twenty by lap two but by that time most of the crowd had moved off up river to the end. Those who left first got the better views. As he completed his third time round the pond Twigtail had reached the first dozen birds at the leading section of participants. They were entering the last phase up the river. He barely noticed the same antagonists that always poured their hatred out at him. Again they were there as he plowed on. "Give it up Freak, you're too weak" went up the chant they kept calling. He didn't have the time to think much,but a trickle of his old doubt got through. What if he was too weak? What if he did hurt himself and his one good leg too badly? Could he really hope to win when others had the advantage on him? Thunder and lightning started to rain down on them all. It brought him back to his senses. He could do it. He was a fighter, he was stronger than they believed. He'd use the pain, use the hurt, use the venom of their words..use it to fuel his ambition and his determination. And this he did, tor though one leg was weaker than two nobody accounted for his stubborn iron will. It pushed him on, passing a moorhen, a guinea fowl and then two other ducks. He moved ahead of a signet and three very differently marked geese until finally there were only two birds ahead of him.

When they got near the end the last part was a stretch of river where they were to complete the course by flying up out of the water and over the linc that had been set up. Everywhere there were crowds of cheering birds. He never heard any abuse, didn't see any faces, he just heard the cheers. A tear came to his little duck eye. Nobody had ever cheered for him. Not one bird had ever showed him this much love before. It was coming in great waves of cheers. It was enthusing his heart, filling his lungs and making him burst with pride. The hardest part was to be launching your tired aching body out of the water into the air. But as all three birds did so at almost the same time, neck and neck, Twigtail felt like he was floating. He wasn't a weak little duck, he was a sea eagle, he was an osprey and he was STRONG. He wasn't the biggest bird in those three, nor had the widest wingspan. But he was filled with something the others lacked in comparison; resilience! He gave it everything All he had, all he could generate, the anger, the misery and the pain all converted to energy. And Twigtail, the little duck with one leg crossed the finishing line the bonafide hero of the hour in first place! He had won. He had done it. He'd proven to himself he wasn't the failure they wanted him to believe he was. He was a newest recruit to the Duck Patrol and he was going to have an astonishing life, and for once, he truly believed in that to the very core of his being. Twigtail was happy and he quacked in delight as he was mobbed with congratulations and applause.

The end.