“I wish you had told me this sooner,” said Mommy.
“Me, too,” I said.
“However,” Mommy continued, “we can take care of the problem — without going to jail. I will pay for the car. But you two” (she pointed to Andrew and me) “will have to do extra chores to pay me back. And in the future, if you want something, talk to Seth or me about it. We might have been able to tell you the car was not well made. That is why it broke. And no more ordering things in other people’s names. That is not right. Now let’s forget about the car and enjoy dinner.”
“Okay,” I said.
Andrew and I smiled. Nobody was going to jail!
A Home for Feather
Feather’s babies looked less like ducklings and more like ducks. I could tell that soon they would be ready to leave the courtyard.
“Ms. Colman?” I said one day. “Who will take care of Feather after she and her babies leave our school? Oh, and could I have one of the ducklings? I promise to take really, really good care of it. I will keep it at Mommy’s house. I love animals. I have two cats, two dogs, and two fish. And I have my very own rat, Emily Junior. I always remember to feed her and give her fresh water and play with her. I bet Seth would help me make a pen for the duckling — ”
“Karen,” said Ms. Colman.
“And when I am at the big house, Mommy would feed the duck.”
“Karen — ”
“Could I have Pack? I like that name.”
“Karen,” said my teacher for the third time.
“Yes?”
“No one is going to take Feather or her babies.”
“Really?” I was surprised. “You mean they are going to stay at school?”
“No. We are going to let them go. Feather is wild. We have let her raise her babies as naturally as possible. So they are wild, too. They belong near a lake or a pond, where they can live on their own and meet other ducks and raise more ducklings. That is how they will be happiest.”
“Oh.”
I must have looked surprised and sad because Ms. Colman said, “I thought you understood that, Karen. I thought you knew that is what would happen.”
“I — I guess not,” I stammered.
“Oh, dear. I wonder if any other students thought we were going to find homes for the ducks. I better make an announcement.”
Ms. Colman talked to us about the ducks that morning. She explained that Feather and her babies were going to be set free. Then she said, “I have been talking to the people at SAPA about this. They will move the ducks to their new home. They will work very carefully, so the ducks will not be too scared.”
Audrey raised her hand. “Where will their new home be?” she asked.
“It could be in several places. But the best place is Carnegie Lake. Do you know what that is? It is the small lake in Carnegie Park. The park is just outside of Stoneybrook. I am sure most of you have been there for picnics.”
“I know where it is!” I cried. (I forgot to raise my hand.) “I have visited there lots of times. I like Carnegie Park.”
“Do you think it is a good place for Feather and her ducklings?” asked Ms. Colman.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Does everyone agree that Carnegie Park should be the ducks’ new home?”
“Yes!” we shouted.
“Wonderful. I think Feather will be very happy,” said my teacher. “Soon we will let the ducks loose. I will call SAPA to find out the best day for that. Guess what. Our class will go to the park to watch the ducks when they see their new home. Maybe we should plan a ‘Good-bye, Feather’ morning.”
So we did. We felt sad that the ducks were going to leave us. But we knew they would like Carnegie Park.
“They can swim in the lake as much as they want,” said Ricky.
“And they can run wherever they want,” said Natalie.
“Feather’s Story will be over,” I added.
Good Luck, Feather!
I sniffed the air. It smelled like spring. And like woods. That made sense, since it was springtime and my friends and I were in the woods. We were in Carnegie Park. So was Ms. Colman. So were three people from SAPA. And so were Feather and her babies.
The ducks were in two pens. The pens had come from SAPA. They were special pens for traveling animals.
Ms. Colman and my classmates and I rode to the park in a school bus. The ducks rode in the SAPA animal van. The van followed our bus all the way to the park. We could not see Feather and her babies, but we knew they were behind us.
“This is the first trip the ducklings have ever taken,” I said to Hannie and Nancy as we rode along. “It is probably Feather’s first trip, too.”
“Except for flying,” Hannie answered. “We do not know where Feather has flown. Maybe she has flown around the world.”
“Feather is smart,” added Nancy, smiling. “We know that because she has been to school.” Nancy giggled.
“I hope Feather is not too used to our school,” I said. “What if she likes it better than Carnegie Lake?”
“She will like the lake,” Hannie replied. “She will have duck friends there. I bet she was a little lonely at school.”
Now we were walking through the woods to Carnegie Lake. I could smell damp soil and ferns and pine needles and dogwood blossoms. And soon I could hear the noises of the lake — water lapping, frogs croaking, even a duck quacking.
“You are right,” I said to Hannie. “Feather will have friends here.”
When we reached the edge of the lake, we stopped. My classmates and I stood in a group. I was carrying a notebook and a pencil. I was going to write the very last part of Feather’s Story. I hoped I could do it without crying. If I cried, my tears would blur my eyes and I would not be able to see what I was writing. I wanted to do a good job.
“Boys and girls, are you ready to say good-bye to Feather?” asked Ms. Colman.
“Yes,” we answered.
The people from SAPA carried the pens to the edge of the lake. The rest of us stood apart from them. Even then, we were not supposed to go near Feather or her babies. Only the animal people were allowed to do that.
“Nancy?” said Ms. Colman.
Nancy stepped forward. She said, “Good-bye, Feather. We are glad you came to our school. You were a good friend. We are proud you decided to have your babies in the courtyard. We will miss all of you. Good luck!” (Nancy read her speech from a piece of paper.)
A man opened one of the pens. Out waddled Feather and two ducklings. He opened the other pen. Out waddled four ducklings. Feather stopped and stood still. The ducklings stopped and stood still, too. Feather looked back at the pens. Then she looked at the water. After a moment, she waddled to the lake. The ducklings followed her. Plop, plop, plop, plop, plop, plop, plop. They hopped into the water. They swam away from us.
“Good-bye! Good-bye, Feather!” we called. And I added, “Good-bye, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Oack, and Pack! And good luck!”
The ducks paddled off happily. Soon they were hidden by some tall weeds.
I wrote: “And they lived happily ever after. THE END.”
I felt happy and sad. (I did not cry.)
A Book for the Library
“Mmm. I smell flowers,” said Hank.
“I smell grass,” said Tammy.
“I smell springtime!” I exclaimed.
My classmates and I were back at school. Guess what. Ms. Colman had opened the windows. And she had opened the door into the courtyard. We could do those things now that Feather and her babies were living at Carnegie Lake. I wished the ducks were still at school. But they were not, and I liked letting spring into our room.
Ms. Colman even took us into the courtyard. We sniffed the flowers. We sniffed the blossoms on the trees.
We found out we were going to become gardeners.
“I thought you would like to plant your zinnias out here,” said Ms. Colman. “They cannot live in the milk cartons forever. We could put the zinnias near Feather’
s nest. We could call that spot ‘Feather’s Garden.’ ”
My friends and I liked the idea. We liked it very much. In fact, we planted Feather’s Garden right away. When we had finished planting, it was time to finish something else. Our book.
First, I copied my end of the story into the end of the book. Here is how I wrote the last two words:
Then we put the rest of our pictures into the book. They were photos Ms. Colman had taken at the lake that morning. They showed the ducks swimming away.
“Time to line up for the library,” announced our teacher.
We ran to the door and formed a line. Ms. Colman stood at the head of the line with our book. We marched proudly to the library.
“Hi, Mr. Counts!” I called.
“Welcome,” replied Mr. Counts.
“We have a present for you,” I announced. “I mean, for the library.”
We crowded around Mr. Counts’ desk. Ms. Colman placed the book on it.
“It is all finished,” Ricky told Mr. Counts.
“This is quite a book,” replied our librarian. “May I read it?”
A bunch of kindergartners were in the library. Mr. Counts read Feather’s Story to them. They laughed at some parts. They said, “That is so sad,” at other parts. They asked questions about ducks.
“Your book is a success,” Mr. Counts told my class. Then he found a brand-new checkout card. He pasted a pocket inside the cover of our book. He slipped the card into the pocket.
“Next we will put information about Feather’s Story in the card catalog,” he said. “That way, students can look up your book when they want to read about ducks.”
My classmates and I were real, live, true authors. We had made a book. We had written it and illustrated it and bound it and made a cover for it. And now our book was in a library. Already, other kids had looked at it.
I turned to Hannie and Nancy, and I smiled. I smiled at Ms. Colman. I smiled at Mr. Counts. I smiled at the kindergartners. But the kindergartners did not see me. They were busy turning the pages of Feather’s Story. They were arguing over who could check it out first!
“I wonder what Feather and the ducklings are doing right now,” I said to Hannie. “I hope they are happy.”
“I’m sure they are,” Hannie replied. “They are where they belong.”
I nodded. Then I said, “Feather made us happy. I am glad we could make her happy. And her babies.”
Feather, I thought, I will never forget you.
About the Author
ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.
Copyright © 1992 by Ann M. Martin
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, 1992
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05613-6
Ann M. Martin, Karen's Ducklings
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