Dangerous Compassions

Tortilla the gay duck

For some reason, in the hospital we were talking about Tortilla.  He was a duck we got from our neighbor, a white duck, white as a tortilla.  I think he liked eating snails?

Unfortunately, he pooped a lot.  My dad was mad he pooped all over the ping pong table, ruining it.

I was heartbroken when one day, Tortilla was gone.  I cried and cried.

I thought Tortilla went to a park.  But in the hospital, Mom told the rest of the story.

Someone wanted to breed ducks, so my parents gave them Tortilla, but he was gay.  He would not help make baby ducks.

So then he was taken to a park and released as if worthless.  Waller Park, I think.

We also had a brown hen named Judy.  She gave us eggs.  We fed her chicken feed.  She was a sweet chicken.  And one day she was gone too.

I remember that backyard, planting a peach pit and wishing it would grow into a tree.  The blackbirds in the bamboo forest that grew up against the fence.  When a piece of bamboo would fall into our yard and we would play with it.  Slip-n-slide, party pinatas, all that.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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