EVERYBODY'S FAVORITE DUCK

by Gahan Wilson

  ‘It is difficult to err with too much caution when dealing with the Mandarin, Mr President,’ said Bone. ‘He is still alive; therefore he is still quite dangerous. Make no mistake, that is an active battleground out there. Observe the casualties.’

  And he waved a hand at a gray stone family group which had been gaping up admiringly at the statue of Quacky the Duck towering above them when the gas hit them, and still were, and would forever, unless someone took pity and carted them away.

  ‘By the way,’ I said, ‘the casualties have company. Waldo wandered out there when no one was looking. I think he’s brooding.’

  Bone and I moved to the door and looked out and there was Waldo, standing in the sun, gloomily studying the little stone family.

  ‘He is obviously depressed but he doesn’t appear to have seen anything particularly alarming,’ said Bone.

  ‘Ah, well, someone had to play the advance scout, and I suppose it might as well have been our Mr Waldo.’

  ‘How is everything out there?’ I called out to him, and he turned, sagging and sad, and gazed back in at us.

  ‘They killed all these people, Mr Weston,’ he said.

  The yellow Quacky balloon the little stone girl standing next to him was holding blew into Waldo’s face. He let it bounce against his cheek a couple of times and then he brushed it away.

  ‘Is it quiet out there?’ I called out. ‘Does anything look fishy? Do you think it’s safe?’

  He looked at me, shuffled around in a slow circle, staring outward, then shrugged and nodded.

  ‘It looks perfectly safe, Mr Weston,’ he said. ‘I don’t see anything danger——’

  But he stopped talking to me, right in the middle of the word dangerous, because something orange and flat and big as a house had suddenly come crashing down.

  I rushed to the door to see what sort of amazing new event had happened, but the thing’s impact had stirred up a brown cloud of dust as thick as fog, and all I could make out in the swirling dust and rubbish was a kind of huge orange column which, even as I looked, moved up, and another kick of dust puffed out and stung my eyes as the first enormous thing sailed up after it, and by the time the air had cleared enough for us to get any kind of view, there seemed to be nothing visible except the bare ground.

  ‘This place is extraordinary,’ said Bone. ‘Nothing less than extraordinary. What in the world was that? Where in the world is Mr Waldo?’

  ‘I don’t know, to both,’ I said. ‘But I guess I better find out before it happens to the rest of us.

  I ducked out sidewise and flattened myself against the golden side of the pedestal that supported the statue of Quacky, and stared about me every which way, but, just like Waldo, I couldn’t see anything dangerous, though I was smart enough not to admit it out loud, being a professional.

  Very, very cautiously, I detached myself from the wall and took a couple of steps outward, looking carefully around me, but still I saw no sign of anything unexpected. Nothing lurked on the pedestal beside the Quacky statue, no one appeared to be sneaking from one group of stone corpses to the other, nothing strange was flying in the sky.

  I prowled over the ground where I’d last seen Waldo standing, with the idea I’d find him right away as a great, big bloody splash, and when that didn’t work out I started looking for subtler traces, and when that didn’t pay off either, I had to settle for becoming increasingly confused.

  I could see Bone peering out of the doorway, watching me go through all of this, and it was obvious he was experiencing a little confusion on his own.

  ‘Is there no sign of Waldo at all?’ he called out.

  ‘Not a speck of him,’ I called back.

  The little stone family was there, all right, but crushed level to the ground, the girl’s red balloon included. I stood staring down at the flatness of that balloon, wondering about mortality and so on and getting nowhere with it, when I suddenly realized I wasn’t standing in the sun anymore, I was standing in dark shadow, and I knew I hadn’t moved.

  I put two and two together and may have broken all private detective broad-jump records, but we’ll never know because the ground joggled, every part of it in my vicinity, and the dust cloud came again, and so I carelessly rolled away from the post where I’d landed without stopping to mark it.

  I continued to roll until I was clear of the cloud and then got up and ran until I was far enough away to get a look at the whole thing from a suitable distance, then I stopped and studied the vista.

  Once you got some perspective on it you saw the cloud was big, but not all that big, since it only covered the area around the gold pedestal, and only rose up to the bottom edge of Quacky the Duck’s checkered coat.

  I stood at a half crouch, all ready to run some more if I spotted anything coming out of the cloud after me, but when it slowly faded it was still the same old view as before and just as bare of clues.

  Then somebody did about as good a job of making me jump out of my skin as was ever done in the course of my entire life by the simple act of clearing his throat directly behind me. I spun around, clawing by reflex action for the gun I no longer had, and there, hunkered down next to the aproned stone body of a hot-dog salesperson, was Waldo.

  ‘What’s doing this, Mr Weston?’ he asked.

  ‘I was hoping you could tell me, Waldo,’ I said, ‘and it’s something of a disappointment to learn you can’t.’

  Then I heard someone shouting my name repeatedly and turned to see Bone poking his head out of the pedestal’s door, peering around with pretty obvious concern, and I’ll have to admit it really flattered me to see how relieved he looked when he saw me standing there waving at him.

  ‘Weston!’ he shouted. ‘I thought that thing had got you!’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said, ‘and so is Waldo. But neither of us has any idea of what’s going on.’

  ‘Confound it,’ said Bone, after a pause, ‘I’ve had enough of this!’

  He started coming out with Athenee and the president. I saw he had his jaw set and my heart sank a little because he gets a little unreasonable when his jaw sets. We damn near lost San Francisco one time when he got his jaw set.

  ‘I’m not sure if you should come out from under there,’ I said. ‘My honest opinion is that it’s probably a pretty bad idea.’

  ‘There are wolves behind us,’ said Bone, stomping full ahead with his cane now, talking as he stomped. ‘There are ossified cadavers all round us, and now some infernal device we seem totally unable to understand appears to be skillfully zeroing in on this absurd hiding place of ours, threatening to crush it and us to powder at any given moment. I am not saying there are not risks, there are always risks, but I think the time has come for us to take them and leave!’

  He and the others were further out now, and still coming and I still didn’t like it. I was about to say something calm and reasonable and hopefully persuasive along those lines when I realized Bone and the others were now walking in a shadow, a kind of fan-shaped shadow, and then I looked above and saw the huge, orange, fan-shaped thing that was casting that shadow. It was Quacky the Duck’s foot, and it was raised, and it was ready to stomp.

  ‘It’s the duck!’ I yelled at them. ‘It’s Quacky! It’s the goddamn duck! Run! It’s coming from above!’

  A long time before I’d finished all of that, and a good thing for them, Bone and the others had started going as fast as they could, and it turned out to be only just fast enough because when that big orange foot hit the ground its lead toe was a bare yard away from Bone’s behind.

  Once more a huge cloud of dust spread up and out in all directions, hiding everything from view, and I heard Bone gasping and clumping in my direction way before I actually saw him and the president come flailing into sight with all their upper parts dusted with a fine sprinkling, like powdered-sugar doughnuts. The president brought his dash to a halt by my side, but Bone’s idea of a reasonable distance was apparently about two yards farther out because it was only
then that he stopped and turned and threw a wild-eyed glance back at the duck.

  ‘Astounding,’ he wheezed, whirling the tip of his cane upward to point at the duck’s head. ‘You’ll observe there’s actually a kind of control room built up into that stupid thing’s hat. See the window that’s opened just over the brim? And there’s the Mandarin himself, the villain! I can see him there crouched over some levers!’

  By now the dust cloud had almost entirely settled and I didn’t like what I saw, or rather what I didn’t see.

  ‘Where’s Athenee?’ I asked.

  Bone glanced around.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I thought she was by our side.’

  I started to head back toward the pedestal but Bone lunged forward and grabbed hold of my arm.

  ‘Let go of me,’ I said, because I didn’t want to be rude and just pull away, but he tightened his grip instead and leaned closer to me.

  ‘She’s extremely competent, Weston,’ he said. ‘I understand your concern, believe me I do, but there is every reason to assume she has taken good care of herself. Run back there in a knightish effort to save her and that ridiculous thing will only flatten you. I assure you your Athenee would not appreciate the favor.’

  He was absolutely right so I relaxed and he let go and I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted ‘Athenee! Athenee!’ as loud as I could, but there wasn’t any answer.

  ‘Only someone totally devoid of any sense of humor could possibly put himself in such a position,’ growled Bone, glaring up at the Mandarin who was looking down smugly at us from inside the duck, which now stood with one foot on and one foot off its pedestal. ‘I’m absolutely certain he believes we are observing him with solemn awe and has no idea how ridiculous he has made himself look by placing himself inside that feathered pile driver!’

  The duck’s shoulders gave a funny little shrug at that point and its other foot stepped off the pedestal and landed with an earthshaking thump alongside the one already on the ground. All through this operation the head was turning so that the observation window in its silly cap, and the steady green gaze of the Mandarin inside, kept pointing straight at us. Now the duck was shorter by a pedestal, but somehow it suddenly looked a whole lot bigger.

  ‘It’s unattached,’ said Bone, in a completely different tone of voice. ‘It’s loose. It’s mobile. This may be serious.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake,’ said President Parker, pointing. ‘Look at that, will you? When that thing moved, its coat swayed forward and I believe I caught sight of someone over there, on its side. Yes! See? Look there! Do you see over there? Toward the duck’s rear? Climbing up the side of its coat? Just coming over the top edge of the flap on its left pocket?’

  With every question he jabbed his finger in the duck’s direction again until Bone hissed: ‘Make him stop that damnable pointing! That thing’s wings are stirring. If the Mandarin sees her he’ll brush her off like a fly!’

  ‘Oh, ah, yes,’ said the president. ‘I hadn’t thought of that!

  ‘No offense, sir,’ I said gently but firmly, and, taking hold of the presidential arm, I lowered it as unobtrusively as possible.

  ‘It’s Athenee,’ whispered Bone. ‘Employing her second-story burglary skills, by gad. Admirable!’

  The wings bent at the elbows and swung around a little in their checkered sleeves and I thought for a second maybe she’d been spotted, but then the duck leaned over and reached out to put a huge, three-fingered hand on either side of a handy tower growing out of Elf Castle and worked the thing back and forth a few times with a terrific noise of timbers snapping and guy wires twanging, and then ripped the whole business out by its roots.

  The duck straightened, made a half turn, swung the tower back and forth a few times like a Highland thrower getting the feel of his javelin, then heaved it in a smooth, arching toss so that it landed with a terrific crash lengthwise across the opening of the entrance.

  ‘Couldn’t be neater,’ I said. ‘He’s plugged us in. Do you suppose he sneaked out at night and practiced with that thing?’

  The duck’s head swung smoothly back in our direction as it took its first step forward, crushing a row of welcome booths along with their bright little flags, and when we saw how much closer to us that one step of his towering orange leg had taken him we wasted no time in working our way back to the fence.

  The Mandarin sat up there in the top of his duck and watched us do it, and only when we’d reached the fence and the end of all possible retreat did the big machine take its second step, which was all it needed to tower directly over us with the toes of its big orange feet only yards away.

  ‘What is all this?’ the president asked in a small voice. ‘I don’t understand. Are we doomed?’

  ‘It may be so,’ said Bone gloomily. He turned to me. ‘Realistic humility and simple good sense always forbade my dismissing the possibility of our eventual destruction at the hands of one or another of these villains, Weston, but I must confess that never—no, not even in my most disconsolate speculations—did I ever visualize a defeat this outrageously pathetic!’

  I glanced down at him glaring at the Mandarin.

  ‘All the same,’ I said, ‘I still think he looks silly in that duck.’

  Bone looked at me, then back at the Mandarin.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said, grinning. ‘He does. He looks a perfect ass.’

  Then I jumped, because President Parker had suddenly grabbed my arm, like a kid does when he’s excited, and was whispering loudly in my ear.

  ‘Look up there, Mr Weston,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to attract his attention, I don’t want to point, but look up there!’

  I did, and then, without moving my lips, without moving anything I absolutely didn’t have to, I spoke to Bone in a low, steady voice out of the corner of my mouth.

  ‘Up there,’ I said. ‘Working her way up the front of the thing’s jacket.’

  ‘I see her,’ Bone said. ‘Going up button by button. Absolutely extraordinary. By heavens, Weston, I’ve never seen such sangfroid in my life, indeed I have not!’

  ‘What if he looks down?’ hissed the president.

  Then as if on cue, the huge head of the duck did start to tilt and we could see the Mandarin in his aerie in the little green hat peering carefully this way and that over Quacky’s big, broad, orange bill.

  ‘What am I going to do, Bone?’ I asked. ‘How am I going to save her?’

  At that instant, with a smooth swing upward, Athenee crouched neatly under the giant red carnation fixed to the front of Quacky’s checkered coat.

  ‘You needn’t bother playing the hero, Weston,’ Bone chuckled. ‘She’s saved herself.’

  ‘We’ve got to do something,’ I said. ‘He’ll see her sure if we don’t!’

  Suddenly, without any warning, Waldo shot forward, heading for the wide gap between the duck’s legs, then swerved when the right one shifted quickly. When they slammed together the moment before he would have made it through, he skittered around and started heading back.

  ‘She’s taking advantage of the distraction,’ whispered Bone, ‘she’s heading up. There’s a proper woman, that one! Oh, it’s a good thing for my career as a consulting detective that I never came across any such as her in my younger days!’

  Waldo scrambled back over the top of the duck’s right foot and headed south along the fence as the Mandarin flicked his talon over the levers and made the big machine swing smoothly around to follow him.

  ‘Look at her moving low across that thing’s shoulder,’ murmured Bone. ‘I’d have married her, by gad, that’s what I’d have done, and for certain!’ He paused, mildly astonished. ‘And I’d have enjoyed it, too! Yes, I really would have, and that’s a fact!’

  The duck slammed a foot down in front of Waldo, not to kill him, only to cut him off. It was obvious the Mandarin was becoming interested in the torture. Athenee had worked her way around to the back of the duck’s neck, come across a large white pan
el, and opened it. She was reaching in now, and tugging firmly and with great interest at some stuff inside.

  ‘And if she’d turned me down,’ continued Bone, ‘I hope I should have been silly enough to waste the rest of my life mooning over my loss, for I would have enjoyed that, too!’

  The duck stomped playfully to the right and left of Waldo, who was now scrambling around in a total panic, but the second stomp had a little less authority to it, and that had to be Athenee’s doing because she’d come across a great big glob of electronic spaghetti inside the panel and was enthusiastically pulling out yard after yard of brightly colored wires braided together like Rapunzel’s hair. Sparks poured from the wires as they tumbled out and little arcs of bright blue light danced between them.

  ‘She’s got him!’ cried Bone. ‘Bless her heart, the darling—she’s got him proper!’

  The duck turned, leaving Waldo forgotten and free to crawl to safety, gave us a few comic nods and a great view of the Mandarin determinedly trying to track down the glitch, then lurched unevenly away from us and started stumbling down along the fence, executing an occasional pointless hop or salute. Athenee began swinging down the back of the duck’s coat, going easily from one handful of checkered cloth to the next. The colored wires were throwing out showers of sparks now, and patches of the coat were starting to blacken and flame.

  Suddenly the duck wheeled around, giving us a clear view of the Mandarin in a total panic, frantically clawing at the controls like a long, lean jumping jack, and Bone laughed aloud.

  ‘Look at him! He’s in a total tizzy, the rogue, in a blind spin! This is simply delightful, Weston! I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!’

  The Mandarin clawed out and grabbed a lever, obviously at random, and it turned out to be a magnificently bad choice because the duck froze and stared into space as though something brilliant had suddenly occurred to it, then it grinned that ridiculous grin children all over the world love because it means Quacky is about to do something hilarious, then it looked straight in our direction and opened its beak wider than you would have dreamed it could.