Lost Duckling

I'd sit on the dock and let my feet dangle two inches above water, kissed by the surface only when a gust of wind crested a wave beneath me. The water is more green than blue, but emeralds shine as tempting as sapphires. My hometown house sits on the artificial shore of a man-made lake, and even though my lake was carved into earth by a mortal, I feel nature's sublimity.

I'd eat wheat toast in the Spring. And always only in the Spring, mother ducks parade their goslings to the bandstands at my feet. I'd take two slices outside with me for breakfast. Most days I ate both slices, but if I was lucky, I would be privileged to feed my toast to the fledgling family.

Every Spring was the same. Eight puffs of wispy down bob passively on the waves as the mother hesitantly approached and gathered torn strips of bread. Two weeks later, the same family, reduced to six siblings, had wisps of brown highlights in their coats. And, at the end of Spring, only four adolescents, rough in textured brown feathers, survived the brutality of nature to accompany their mother.

The family numbers dwindle every year. Maybe a foul-mouth bass swallowed one. Maybe one drowned. Maybe one got run over by a car. I never see the dead ones: only the ones who survived. The dangers of nature took the ducklings swiftly, and I could only mourn by feeding their portions to their siblings.

Today, in the first color changes of Autumn, I felt the cruelty of April. One of my students from third period was expelled. I got the notice from the front office this morning. In response to my lunch-time inquiry, the principal simply stated that the mother of the student was not "on the same page as another teacher at the school." The math teacher.

I knew the student and the math teacher were having issues, but I had no idea the problems were brutal enough to result in an expulsion. The student was not an angel, but he wasn't a devil either. I felt like I failed the student. I was unable to save him from becoming collateral damage in the battle between his mother and the math teacher.

Third period felt noticeably smaller. I made 14 copies of a worksheet as usual, but had one left over. It was then I felt Spring: third period only has 13 ducklings in it.