Visions of Fear - Foundations of Fear III (1992)

by David G. Hartwell (Ed. )

  from the neck down, but if they wanted to send somebody out to make sure he really was my father and that he really was sitting in his wheelchair paralyzed they

  could go right ahead, but it would be easier if they just

  looked at their records or talked to someone who knew

  what he was talking about there at the school. The school

  said, No, we’re sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Matson,

  to him and he had me hang up. I kissed him and went

  back out to the yard.

  The duck was still out in the middle of the yard

  sunbathing. I wanted to push it into the shade from the

  house and see if it would attack me even if I was bigger

  than a swan and wasn’t a bird at all. It wouldn’t be very

  dangerous because as long as I stayed in the sunlight the

  duck would stop attacking as soon as it got back out into

  the sun with me. But I didn’t want to be too close to it

  when it came at me in case it came at me a lot faster than

  it moved when it was trying to paddle around- as if it was

  still in the water. So I took one of the pieces of the

  bamboo fishing rod and tied it to the handle of the hoe to

  make it long enough so I’d be further away from the duck

  when I herded it into the shade.

  I pushed the duck as far away from me into the shade

  as I could with the metal end of the hoe, so it was maybe

  almost ten feet out of the direct sunlight before I

  stopped. That took almost ten minutes. Then I started to

  back away from it.

  As soon as I took the hoe away it moved its head like it

  was looking for something then started coming at me,

  paddling as fast as it could and ripping up the lawn a

  little but even with the way it was kicking it was still just

  inching and sliding its way across the grass slower than I

  could have moved on my hands and knees. It wasn’t

  trying to use its wings like I’d been pretty sure it

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  wouldn’t, it only used its wings when it made its other

  kind of attack, the one it did with the scissors that came

  out of its mouth when the sun was going down. I stayed

  just on the bright side of the shadow’s edge but I moved

  away up towards the side fence so that I could watch the

  duck chase me some more. It was so slow and stupidlooking and I was in the sun, so I wasn’t very worried.

  Besides, I wanted to see what it would try to do to me

  when it came time for it to try to dive under to grab me.

  What it did was when I let it get about two or three feet

  away from me it stuck its head down under its body,

  pushing it in under its puffed-up chest which made it

  look even sillier because of the way its chest was already

  resting on the grass so that with its two legs sticking out

  behind it looked like some sort of crazy toy wheelbarrow. Then it kicked off with its legs like it was trying to dive straight down to the bottom of the lake but all that

  happened was that it fell back into the same sort of

  wheelbarrow position again. But it didn’t even seem to

  notice it wasn’t underwater, because then it pulled its

  head out from under its chest and stuck it straight at me

  and paddled as fast as it could at me until it was just

  almost to the edge of the shadow, then it suddenly

  arched its head and neck and body backwards and did

  something with its wings real fast so it fell over on its

  back. I moved away a little further down the shadow line

  so it could come after me without getting in the sun. Now

  that it was over on its back it was using its wings to try to

  swim at me like they were the oars of a rowboat and that

  was working a little better than the paddling had because

  the grass was very smooth there but even so the wings

  could sort of catch in it and slide the duck along. I stood

  where I was this time and when it got closer to me— it

  was about two feet away from me now, just before where

  the shadow ended— its legs moved away from each other

  and turned around sideways so its feet were facing each

  other like it wanted to clap them together. Big steel claws

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  like meat hooks that must have been hidden somewhere

  in its hollow legs came out of its feet very fast and its

  belly opened up and something like a long rotary file and

  a drill and a buzzsaw all at the same time came out and

  started whirling so fast it was just a blur even though it

  didn’t make any noise like a drill or a buzzsaw usually

  would.

  The duck had finally gotten to just at the edge of the

  dividing line between the shadow and the sunlight and I

  knew that if it came any further it would be out in the

  sun and just go back to being a fake duck, so I used the

  bamboo stick that I’d tied to the hoe to turn it around

  facing the other way so I could see what it would do. But

  it just used one wing and not the other to turn itself

  around in a circle so it was coming at me again and this

  time I let it get itself out into the sunlight so it would turn

  itself off.

  As soon as its head was out in the sun the claws went

  back into its feet and the drill-thing stopped turning and

  started to go back into its stomach. I got a better look at

  it this time, and it was all covered with little barbs like

  fish hooks and other little knives of all sorts that looked

  like they turned around on their own, not always in the

  same direction as the whole thing, but before I could get

  a better look at what it was like its stomach closed up

  again to where they should be so it was just a fake duck

  lying on its back again.

  It couldn’t seem to turn itself back over so I used the

  bamboo end of the hoe to tip it back into the right

  position.

  I sat down in one of the lawn chairs and watched it

  struggle back to the center of the yard.

  It was too slow and clumsy in the daytime to be any

  use if I just left it in the backyard, especially because it

  wouldn’t come near metal and all but one of the lawn

  chairs had metal frames. I was sorry we didn’t have a

  swimming pool and tried to think of a way I could get to

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  use Beth’s pool but I couldn’t think of one that would be

  any good. But even though I couldn’t see any way to

  make the duck work right except maybe just by throwing

  it on somebody it was still good to know that the duck

  would chase things and try to kill them even if they were

  people and not other birds.

  But then I thought that that was just what the duck did

  in the daytime when it got cloudy and that it had a whole

  different way of attacking things at sunset, when it used

  its wings a bit and went a lot faster over the surface of the

  water to cut off the other ducks’ heads. So maybe that

  would work. Only if it did work I didn’t want to be there

  in the backyard with the duck when it attacked.

  For a while I thought about getting a dog or a cat or

/>   something and putting it in the backyard with the duck

  to see what happened but the idea made me sick and I

  couldn’t do it. Then I thought about going back down to

  El Estero Lake and catching another real duck but it

  would probably make a lot of noise when I was catching

  it unless I killed it, and if I got caught killing a duck what

  with the way everybody knew how I liked to go down to

  the lake and watch the ducks all the time everybody’d be

  suspicious of me and wonder how many other ducks I’d

  killed and maybe notice that there were a lot less ducks

  there on the lake than there usually were and think that I

  was crazy or evil, so that if someone got killed after that

  they’d be sure I did it.

  But then I thought, it didn’t have to be a real duck at

  all, not a live one, I had more than enough money to go

  down to the poultry shop in Monterey and buy myself

  one that was ready to cook, and I could probably even get

  one with the feathers and head and everything all on it.

  So I rode my bike down to the poultry shop, but they

  didn’t have any ducks that weren’t already plucked and

  the chickens were all plucked too, so I had to buy a goose,

  which cost a lot more than I wanted to spend. I got it

  anyway and they put it in a plastic bag for me and gave

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  me a little sheet of paper with instructions for how to

  cook it even though I said it was for my mother.

  I put it in the backyard, about five feet away from the

  duck so it wouldn’t have to go too far to get it, then

  changed my mind and put it halfway across the yard, so I

  could see how fast the duck could go when it was after

  something.

  It was pretty late but the sun wasn’t down yet, so I

  went back inside and took care of father, then put some

  fresh clothes on him in case Mother was going to be

  coming home tonight even though she’d said she

  wouldn’t, and then fixed us TV dinners. There was a

  movie on the cable channel, Casablanca with Humphrey

  Bogart and right after it Shanghai Express with Marlene

  Dietrich, and I would have liked to have seen both of

  them even though I’d seen Casablanca before, but it

  started right after dinner and I wasn’t sure I’d have time

  to finish it before the sun went down. I tried to watch a

  little of it anyway with Father but I couldn’t get interested in it at all so I went back into the kitchen where I could watch the backyard out the window just like I

  could’ve from the living room if I hadn’t closed the

  curtains there so I could be sure Father wouldn’t see

  anything.

  But when the sun went down and the light went away

  until it was completely dark out, there wasn’t even any

  moon, the duck didn’t even try to do anything to the

  goose. It just turned back into a log and stuck its lily pads

  a little ways out of the ends of its broken-off branches. I

  went back into the living room in time to see the very

  end of Casablanca and all of Shanghai Express. Shanghai Express was pretty good, but not as good as Casablanca had been the time before.

  I’d been refilling Father’s drinking bottle with beer all

  day and he was pretty drunk by the time the movie was

  over but instead of getting sleepy the way he usually did

  he was wide awake and something in the movies had

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  made him all angry and sad at the same time. It was

  really awful.

  First he got angry at Mother and started yelling and

  telling me what a bitch she was, how she treated him like

  shit the way she did and even brought her mess sergeant

  home with her as if it didn’t make any difference what

  Father thought and even told him that at least Don—

  that was the mess sergeant’s name, but I didn’t like to use

  it even though he asked me to because that would make it

  too much like he was my friend or an uncle or something

  — could help her with him when she had to get his

  wheelchair into the car to take him to the beach or

  somewhere else nice and that Don was a lot of help tdo

  with getting him in and out of the bathtub and cleaning

  him up, as if that wasn’t worse, having to let his wife’s

  lover clean him up when he’d dirtied himself because he

  couldn’t get out of his wheelchair to go to the bathroom

  on his own and they were too busy in the bedroom to

  waste the time to come and help him. Like he was a baby

  and it was OK if they changed his diaper every day or

  two.

  He’d been yelling for most of this, but then he got real

  sad again, and that was even worse, he started talking

  about what a good wife Mother’d been back when he

  could take care of her and when he’d been handsome and

  strong and everything Don was now only a lot better and

  how she would have been a perfect wife to him if only he

  hadn’t had the accident and it wasn’t her fault that he

  couldn’t be a husband to her and even if she got angry at

  him a lot and had to find someone else to do all the

  things that it’d been his duty to do for her as a husband

  he couldn’t blame her, because at least she hadn’t

  divorced him or put him in a home or anything like that.

  It went on and on and after a while he was crying, and

  then he was yelling again. His bottle was empty so I went

  and got him another one, only I put half a Librium in it

  like I’d sometimes seen Mother do when she wanted to

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  make sure he got to sleep and after a little while he

  calmed down and went to sleep.

  I went out in the backyard and put the log in its sack

  and put it in the shed. I didn’t even bother to use the

  stick or anything this time, because I was sure it wouldn’t

  do anything to me now that it was late enough at night so

  the light had been gone for a long time. I put the sack

  behind the TV set under the bench but I couldn’t really

  think of what to do with the goose because it would

  probably rot if I just left it in the shack but if I put it in

  the freezer or the refrigerator Mother’d probably find it

  if she came home tomorrow and I couldn’t think of any

  reason to tell her why there was a goose in the freezer.

  Then I thought, what I’ll tell her is I bought it with my

  savings because since she’d been away working all that

  time I wanted to cook it for her for a kind of celebration

  when she got home and I’d gotten all the directions for

  cooking it and everything, only they looked too hard.

  And if she asked me why I’d gotten a goose instead of

  something like a turkey I’d tell her it was because I’d

  never had a goose and I’d heard that they were something special that people had for Christmas in England and that I wanted this to be very special. She’d have to

  believe me even though it was a pretty silly story because

  she wouldn’t be able to think of any other reason why I’d

  have a g
oose to put in the freezer. Unless I’d stolen it,

  and I had the receipt and the piece of paper with the

  instructions on it to show her and she could always check

  back with the man at the poultry store if she was really

  suspicious.

  Then I put fresh sheets on Father’s bed and got him

  out of his wheelchair and into it. It really was like he was

  a baby, only even though I was real strong for how big I

  was he was twice as heavy as I was and I almost dropped

  him like I’d done a few times before, but I didn’t.

  And anyway I was growing fast so it was getting easier

  all the time. I was taller than all but one or two of the

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  other girls in my class, and I was real strong and

  muscular just like Mother was and like Father’d been in

  the pictures when he used to be on the Police Basketball

  Team. I was good at sports, too, especially gymnastics

  and swimming and soccer, but Mother said I’d have to

  start being careful about what I ate and about doing real

  exercises and not just playing around pretty soon if I

  didn’t want to end up getting fat and flabby like Father,

  though she said that right now everything was OK and I

  was still just solid.

  I still wasn’t sleepy, even though it was pretty late.

  What with getting up early every morning and everything I’d gotten into the habit of not sleeping too much. I took a bath and washed my hair and tried to watch TV

  but there wasn’t anything on worth watching, and I

  didn’t feel like reading or anything like that, so I went

  and got another TV dinner out of the freezer and put it in

  the oven.

  It was a fried chicken dinner and when I took the tin

  foil off at the end and saw it I thought, maybe that’s how

  the duck figures out whether something’s alive or not,

  because if it’s alive it’s got a temperature just like I do,

  98.6, though it probably wasn’t the same thing for birds.

  But even if it wasn’t the same the duck had chased me

  just like it had chased the ducks and swans so that

  wouldn’t make that much difference.

  Unless the reason it hadn’t tried to kill the goose was

  because the goose had just been lying still there on the

  grass and not moving at all. But some of the real ducks

  I’d seen the robot duck attack hadn’t been moving, at