Chapter 3

Fakir unfolded his chair on the dock in the same place he had been putting it for a year. He could not see Duck yet, she was probably still asleep in her little log. The morning was quiet, with few birds chirping and the buzz of insects only a dull hum. The sky was still orange from the rising sun and the clouds looked like soft pink pillows grazing the sky.

Fakir sighed in contentment. I wonder what it would be like to be a duck. Would Duck and I be able to have a real life together? He thought to himself as he picked up his quill and paper. Fakir rewrote Duck's name in many different fonts across his paper; swirling consonants and cube-like vowels.

Fakir heard a small quack near the front of the pier and he turned to see Duck waving a wing at him. He gave her a small, sad smile and waved back. She tilted her head, beckoning him to her. Fakir moved to his knees, then lay on his stomach and placed his chin on the backs of his hands. Duck cooed softly and stretched her little body towards him. Fakir leaned further and scooped the little bird into his hands.

He spoke to her for the first time in a year. "Good morning, Duck." She quacked softly. "Can you understand me?" He asked in disbelief. She gave a nod of her small head and a happy quack.

Fakir smiled brightly. "Do you like living here, Duck? I feel bad leaving you here alone every night," She nodded sadly. "Oh, Duck. I wish I could hear your voice again. Uzura and I get pretty lonely without you at home." If ducks could chuckle, she did at that moment.

"ZURA! I found you!" Uzura came bounding down the pier as Duck gave a quack of surprise and fell into the water.

"Duck," Fakir called just before her tiny head broke the surface.

"Did you say 'Duck,' zura?" Uzura moved closer to look over Fakir's shoulder into the pond. Her mouth became a small 'O' when she spotted the bird floating on the water. "Duck, is that you, zura? It's me, Uzura-Chan!" Duck gave a strangled quack, still recovering from her earlier scare.

"Yes, Uzura, it's Duck," Fakir said, sighing. "She was turned into a duck."

"Why did you lie, zura?" Uzura's eyes were wide and wet.

"I'm sorry, Uzura. I didn't want you to be sad. I know how much you love Duck, but we can't do anything about it now." Fakir knelt before the little girl and pulled her into a hug.

"That's really Duck, zura?" She pulled back and grabbed his face with both of her small hands, mushing his cheeks.

His voice was muffled when he spoke. "Yes Uzura, it's really Duck." Uzura turned to face Duck who was watching them intently. She knelt down at the edge of the pier and gently stretched her fingers towards the bird.

"Hello, zura. I've missed you." Duck moved her small head so that Uzura could scratch it. Fakir smiled and sat back down in his folding chair. He handed Uzura the bread he had wrapped earlier and she broke off pieces to toss into the water.

Fakir and Uzura spent the entire day at the pond, feeding and talking to Duck. The day grew warmer as it progressed and Fakir felt genuinely happy for the first time in a year. Fakir also wrote again that day. It was a short story, based upon his day with the two girls, but it was writing nonetheless.

Drosselmeyer was watching everything that happened from his lair in the Netherworld. He plotted more than one scheme in his mind, laughing that each one was better than the first.

"My plan is unfolding faster than I thought it would," He mused to himself, always to only himself. "Fakir will be my little puppet before his twentieth birthday."

Drosselmeyer's realm faded back to the pond. The sun had begun to set, but Fakir had no intention of going home yet. He still could not believe that Duck could understand him. This discovery earned Drosselmeyer's plan more interest; it tugged at his brain. He quickly pushed the thought away. At least she can hear me, now I can talk to her every day. Even if I do spill my heart, maybe Duck will be like Uzura and not understand what love is…he thought as he watched Duck's small face follow the small hunk of bread that Uzura was swooshing through the air. Uzura let it fall and it was immediately nibbled up.

Fakir watched them for several more hours before he noticed that Uzura had fallen asleep on the edge of the dock. A small piece of bread was clasped in her hands, her arm dangling off the side, and Duck was pulling large chunks off of it. Fakir took the rest of the bread and walked to the grass on the bank of the pond. He packed all of his supplies and, swinging Uzura onto his back, Fakir started home. The whole way home, Fakir wondered whether the old wizard would visit him again tonight.