The Duck Who Saved Christmas

by me, of all people.

Once upon a Christmas morning, a certain plucky young duck was strolling his way through town, whistling a cheery tune, when it just so happened he passed by the local orphanage. He decided to take a peek through the window to see what Santa had brought these young unfortunates. Perhaps a wind-up airplane! he thought, with painted wings and propeller whirling. Maybe a baby doll with velvet dress and silken locks a-curl. Mayhaps even a soft, warm teddy bear to hold tight during the chill winter nights. It brought a tear to the young duck’s eye to think of it.

And so, he rubbed the foggy window pane and peered inside, hoping to view this scene of joy come to life. Alas! What he saw instead – and it pains me to relay it – were several sickly children gathered round a single filthy towel, each taking their turn prodding it with a stick. The smile this meager play brought to each child’s face broke the duck’s heart in twain.

With the pain of this sight like an electric shock racing through his feathers, the duck involuntarily produced a squawk of anguish. As soon as it escaped him, though, he quickly ducked beneath the window frame – a particular skill of his – and indeed escaped the anxious children’s view. To them it must have sounded like yet another ghastly warning from an outside world that scorned them so. They recalled not what sins they had committed against that world, to deserve this life, but deserve it they must, to be punished so cruel and mean.

Regardless of their guilt, the duck had seen what he’d seen, had felt what he felt, and now he was forming a plan. I am not just a plucky duck, but a lucky duck as well, he thought. And by Goose and Gander, on Christmas of all days, I quackn’t let this be their lot. I quackn’t!

The duck called up the local toy smith, the doll smith, the bear smith, the ball smith. He even called the local clothing smith to craft each child a new suit or dress. He used all his pluck, his muck and might, to convince each smith to rush the order and meet him in front of the orphanage. And once they were all there, with gifts in hand, the duck led them through the orphanage door.

The orphans scattered to their beds, so scared they were of anyone from the outside world. Their mistress – herself an orphan, at age 50 – approached the duck and company warily. She was a good, kindly mistress who did all she could with what she had – which wasn’t much – and she was mighty protective of her charges.

The duck conveyed to her in a whisper the reason for his appearance, the children straining but unable to hear, and they quivered in fear when their beloved mistress let forth a strangled cry. But next they were flummoxed to see a great smile rise to her lips, and tears of joy shining in her eyes. Her shout was not a scream after all, but a cry of utter happiness, and she called to the children: Come forth! Come forth! For this duck has done you all a great kindness, great indeed, and one that I can never repay but in gratitude!

Only then did the children rise from their beds, and by ones and twos they approached the smiths, who were holding such gifts as they had never seen. There was the airplane! There was the doll! There was the bear, the ball, the new clothing, and more besides. All for them!

The duck’s heart sewed itself back into one mighty muscle, and yet swelled so much at the sight of the happy children that it threatened to burst its seam. Never one to gloat upon a good deed, however, the duck briskly exclaimed his sincerest thanks to the mistress and her charges – for it was thankfulness he felt, above all – and made his way outside with the smiths in tow.

And they had words for him, to say the least. That was the last of my wood! said one. And the last of my rubber! said another. And the last of my silk! said the clothing smith. And a rush job means extra! piped somebody else.

The duck turned to face them all. He thanked them for their good deeds, one and all. He noted how happy the children were, who had been so neglected the rest of the year, and almost too this Christmas Day. Yet the smiths were not chagrined.

Charity is all and good, said their leader, the burly bear smith. But work is work and money is money. Talk is cheap but gifts are expensive. You owe us all a great deal. How do you intend to pay for it?

Gentlemen! Gentlemen! said the plucky duck. It’s very simple. Just put it on my beak!

Malazan Empire: The Duck Who Saved Christmas - Malazan Empire