Ducks, Frogs, and Jellybeans
Ducks, Frogs, and Jellybeans

    Can you not see Mr. Turkic, that this is for your well being? If I were to let you go now who knows what sort of trouble you would get into. What’s that? No, I’m afraid the remainder of the morphine is already swimming around your fluid bag. If I were you, I would enjoy it while it lasted. If only things would last Mr. Turkic. I would still have a head full of beautiful blonde hair and you, well, you would still have your tongue. If only. We never meant to frighten you. If it were to be any consolation, I do say that you have been the most upstanding tenant to ever occupy this flat. It is to be a crying shame you had to see us in this manner. You see, it all began my first autumn in the city.
    In order to continue my studies in a more quiet setting than the University dormitory, I sat my eyes and my trust fund, onto this wonderful flat overlooking the duck pond in Mandarin Park. By December, I had developed a sort of hobby. You see, I was caught in a trance every night by a girl that would appear just before the street lamps were lit to feed the ducks, only there were no ducks to be fed in the winter. I asked myself, why is that child throwing food into the water every night? But, I never summoned the nerve to leave my perch. I would just stare and stare some more.
    One night in February, I spoke aloud into my window, “Why Girl? No creatures are coming to be fed.” She could not have possibly heard me, but she did respond by turning her head and looking directly at me through my Den window. I panicked. I dove behind the sofa stupidly. Could she have heard my private questioning of her private matters? I did not know.
    The next night she returned to the same spot with another loaf of bread. I wanted to know how long and beautiful her kept hair was under the bonnet with lace.
    I devised a plot to talk to her and get closer. I sat at the park bench the next night with the pockets of my overcoat filled with jellybeans. Children love jellybeans, I knew, and the girl could have as many jellybeans as she wished. Indeed, this would satisfy my curiosity which had began to grow very unhealthy.
    Simple. The girl walked to her spot by the pond just before the streetlamps were lit for the night. “Jellybean?” I asked as I held out a beautiful red candy to the girl. The girl took the jellybean with her pencil thin fingertips and popped the candy past her waxy lips. I stood beside her as we watched the chunks of bread float across the pond. “Feeding the fish tonight are we?” I jollied. “Not the fish, Sir,” She replied without smiling, “but life. The life the pond has claimed for it’s own.” I gave the child a confused look. “You are making no sense child. Jellybean?” I offered. She took the pink Jellybean from me hand and tossed it into the pond as well. Surely she has lost her mind so young. “I’m afraid I do not understand child,” I pressed further, “Please elaborate.” She tore another chunk of bread and dropped it into the pond. “The water has my child sir. My child has to be fed. The water has to be fed. What kind of mother would I be if I were to deny my child food?” She questioned seriously. “Not a very good mother at all, but why? Why does the water have your child?” I replied casually. “I could not feed the child, I could not provide a father him, or bread, or jellybeans. I gave my baby to the pond. This pond used to sustain all sorts of ducks and frogs. Now it has become greedy. It wants to feed on life instead of support it. I afraid that the water will punish my baby and not support him either.” She explained.
“Girl, there are no ducks or frogs because it is winter time,” I felt as if I were breaking her precious heart, “And the pond is not going to eat bread and jellybeans.”
“No Sir, this food is for the child, the water wants only to feed on life and will not be satisfied with anything else. The are no ducks nor frogs in the hole even in the springtime.” She was almost in tears now. “There, There child,” I comforted, “We will find some ducks and some frogs.”
    So you see Mr. Turkic, the water is no longer satisfied with meager critters or even children anymore for that matter. For a pond with such extravagant tastes, only a scholar will do. A scholar and upstanding tenant. Vanessa should be back from the bakery any minute now. It is our child’s birthday as well as our anniversary. We are going to have a picnic together, very romantic. Until then Mr. Turkic, jellybean?

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 1/19/2010 2:02:20 AM
I was thinking the same thing as Scifi. But you made a touching point here that made me stop and think. It's stories like this with a message that makes for a good read.

Short Story
writing Pazzi
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Short story in the 1st person.
A Word from the Writer
This seems a little dumb, I know. I wanted to practice the 1st person