Slow-Poke Duckling's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Freddy's beak opened. The crowd leaned forward against the fence. Slow-Poke felt his heart beating in his webbed feet. Then Mrs. Duck pushed through the other animals, her wings spread wide, and stepped between them. She didn't say anything at first. She walked to the shed where Freddy had planted his flag and pulled it from the ground. Then she carried it past the rabbit, past the chickens pressing against the weathered fence, all the way to the painted wooden stand near the barn. She climbed the steps and set the flag down on the platform. From up there, she could see every animal in the barnyard. Slow-Poke watched her turn and look directly at him. "No racing today," Mrs. Duck said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried. "Not until someone explains why my son is standing in front of a shed looking like he wants to break his neck." The other ducks went quiet. The chickens stopped clucking. Freddy shifted his weight from one orange foot to the other but didn't say anything. The rabbit with the fancy shoes took three steps backward. Mrs. Duck stayed on the platform, waiting. Slow-Poke felt every eye turn toward him. This wasn't how winning was supposed to look. He had imagined standing at a finish line marked with checkered flags while everyone watched him cross first. Instead, his mother stood above them all holding the race itself in her wings like something she could take away. He could tell her he didn't need her help. He could walk away and let Freddy keep laughing. Or he could stay quiet and let her decide for him. He looked at the shed, then at Freddy, then back at his mother on the stand. "I challenged him," Slow-Poke said. "I want to race." Mrs. Duck looked at him for a long moment. Then she picked up the flag, carried it down the steps, and walked it back to the shed. She planted it in the dirt where Freddy had put it and stepped aside. The finish line was his again.