Chapter 9: The way home.
Duke awoke in a spiraled daze. He could remember voices, sounds, some shapes and colors, but he couldn't logically put together the chain of events that led him to waking up secured tightly to a hospital bed surrounded by three Puck Police. As is left eye blinked to life, he involuntarily made a motion to rub the sleep out of his eye, but instead, he was held fast by cuffs and IV tubing.
"Wha..what's...hap...happening?" he moaned in pain.
"Hey, there, take it easy son. You've had a rough night," said a calm, but stern voice.
"I...don't know...where I am," he stuttered, suddenly feeling chilled and violently dizzy.
"You are at Puck General Hospital. We found you lying in the middle of a busted up jewelry store completely passed out. You had a note attached to your crazy hair identifying you as Duke. I did a little detective work, but I cannot find who you might be on our Puck data base. So, what is your story?"
"Yeah...I'm Duke," he replied. Duke looked up at the duck speaking to him and noticed his detective clothes and a concealed gun tucked away in its holster. Well, great. I'm going to jail.
"Can't imagine what you did to land yourself in this predicament," said the detective.
"I...I...didn't do anything wrong," Duke coughed out.
"No, you didn't. Two Night Ravens were caught on camera robbing the store and then, coming back to dump your naked body in the middle of it! We didn't manage to get their faces. Any idea who they might be from the Brotherhood?" They could be anyone in the Brotherhood. As much as I'd like to say Henna and her goons, I won't give them away-not yet, anyways.
Duke shook his head no and the detective sighed in disappointment.
"Well, I'm detective Thunderbeak, but you can call me Flightfeather and if you want to talk, just let me know," he said, motioning for the officers to follow him out of the room. "We'll get you out of here as soon as we can. The doctor is coming to see you now." With that, the detective left along with the rest of his party and a doctor and a nurse flocked their way to his bedside.
"Hi, I'm Doctor Claw Mark. I'm just going to get right to the point. You've had multiple lacerations, some internal bleeding, a concussion, and, to put it mildly, we think you may have been taken advantage of," said the doctor with a look of deep concern embedded in his face.
"Yeah, I...think...I knew that," Duke replied, feeling the sharp pain swell between his legs.
"We are going to treat you to the best of our ability. We'll get you out of here soon," said Doctor Claw Mark.
"Thanks Doc, I...appre...appreciate that," Duke whispered and then fell fast asleep and for the first time in a long time, feeling safe to do so.
When Duke awoke again, there was a young mallard sitting by his bedside staring down at him. He couldn't have been much younger than Duke, but some of his feathers were still developing pin feathers.
"What do you want kid?" Duke said sharply.
"I'm Canard, detective Flightfeather's son," said the boy.
"Ah, I see. So he sends his son to pry information out of me so you can report back to him. I see the game," Duke said bluntly.
"Ha, yeah, you've got him figured, but in honesty, I'm just here to talk. I'm not going to report on you. You've been through enough," said Canard.
"Yeah, well, forgive me if I'm not going to tell you my life story."
"Don't really want to listen that long," Canard said with a smile.
"When can I get out of here?" Duke asked.
"Soon. Maybe one more day," he said.
"Good. I can't stand being chained up in here," Duke said, tugging on his cuffs attached to his bed. But then, he thought better, "Well, I guess I'm just going to be chained somewhere else, huh?"
"No, I don't think so. They're just running background checks and as far as I can tell, they can't find anything on you except that you are completely off of the system and they have no idea who you are. You are from Puck world, right?"
"Yeah…I am. I've just been an orphan for my whole life, alright? I live on the streets," Duke spat.
"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you?" Canard said, putting his hands between his legs nervously. Duke looked at the young mallard and felt sorry he had snapped at him.
"Hey, kid. I'm not exactly in the mood to talk about it right now," he said.
"Oh, yeah, sure. Maybe some other time," Canard responded politely.
"Yeah, maybe."
...
The next day, detective Flightfeather and his son, Canard, came with two other officers to initiate Duke's release. They brought him clean clothes, some money, and offered him, most surprisingly, a place to stay at their home until he could get back on his feet.
"I...I don't know what to say," Duke said as the cuffs were removed from his wrists and ankles and he was slowly lifted from the bed to stand for the first time in two days.
"Say yes. The lady hen of the house would love to have you," said Flightfeather. Duke cringed at the thought of another hen, but nodded in agreement. Canard smiled up at his father and then rushed over to help his new roommate to get dressed and ready for discharge.
As they trio walked out of the hospital room, there was a hushed murmur that befell the hospital corridor as doctors, nurses, and patients alike watched the mysterious Duke hobbling on Canard for support. Canard took no mind of the awkward stares and held fast to his new friend. Duke could feel the confidence in this young mallard and deep down, admitted that he would have made a fine Brother.
On the drive home, Duke marveled out the car window at the middle class neighborhood houses in the suburbs; realizing that he had never set foot outside of the inner city. The yards were green, each house was painted a conservative shade of beige, and each one had a giant pond for swimming. Some were even filled with fish!
I could get used to this, he thought.
When they arrived at the Thunderbeaks' house, the misses, a plump white hen, came running out of the front door to greet them. She gave each a hug and a kiss, and when she came to Duke, she looked him over with a sharp eye. Duke began to feel that coming here was a bad idea, but suddenly, she smiled and gave Duke a gentle and warm embrace.
"Welcome! You are most welcome here!" she said.
"Thank you, ma'am," replied Duke.
"So polite, even for a city duck. Feathers, I do think I like this one!"
"Yes, mama, he certainly is a charmer," said "Feathers."
Duke looked at Canard who smiled back innocently.
"You're going to have to meet my neighbors, the Wings. They know how to play some mean street hockey. Oh, wait, you do play hockey, right?" asked Canard.
"Do I play hockey? Kid, I've been playing street hockey since I opened my eyes for the first time!" Duke replied haughtily.
"Great! Da, can we go play with the Wings?"
"Sure, Canard, just be home for dinner at a reasonable time," he said, taking his wife's hand and walking her back to the house.
Duke followed Canard across the street and up the porch to his neighbor's house. Canard smiled and rang the doorbell to the house. Bangs and screams could be heard from the house's interior and a motherly voice yelling, "Don't be out too late! You have school tomorrow!" Duke looked at Canard with a wide-eyed expression but Canard just shrugged his shoulders and laughed. Finally, a small, pale, and gangly duckling threw open the door. He was panting and holding a hockey stick.
"Hi!" it said. "Oh, you have a new friend, Canard!"
"Yeah, Nosedive. This is Duke. Is your brother around?" asked Canard calmly.
"You know it! Wildwing!" the little mallard screamed from the doorway.
Another duck, about the same age as Canard, came running to the door, his hands gripping two hockey pucks, a helmet, his hockey stick, and some worn skates.
"Hiya, Canard! Ready to play?" asked Wildwing.
"You know it!" replied Canard.
"Can I play? Please please pleeeassse?" whined Nosedive.
"Hey, little bro, we play pretty rough. Maybe when you are older," said Wildwing gently.
"Awww man!" said Nosedive disappointingly.
"One day, little guy, they won't be able to pull you off the ice. You'll be making all the shots!" said Canard as he tussled the little duck's downy head. "Come on, let's go."
Wildwing walked out into the night air and closed the door behind him, smiling at his friend Canard, then looking suspiciously at Duke. Duke awkwardly smiled back.
"Wildwing, this is Duke. He's going to be living with my family for a while," explained Canard.
"Oh, well, pleased to meet you," Wildwing said cordially, but with a hint of resentment hidden in his voice.
"Like-wise," replied Duke, extending his hand for a handshake. Wildwing stared up at him in annoyance and ignored his offer for friendship. Instead, he turned and walked next to Canard as they made their way to the street to set up their pretend hockey arena. Duke simply rolled his eyes and followed closely.
Until sundown, the trio played hockey, laughing and sharing in the thrill of the sport. Duke proved a little out of practice, but he was still able to best Wildwing a few times. It felt good to take out his aggression within the confines of a sport. In the mob, his aggression was either pent up all day long, or he used it to fuel his late night raids. Finally, when Misses Thunderbeak called Canard and Duke in for dinner, the three picked up their sticks and turned for their homes. Wildwing, however, called after Canard and asked to speak with him privately. Duke slowly walked away to the house put used his keen listening skills to hone in on their conversation.
"Canard, he's a bit old, isn't he?" asked Wildwing.
"Well, yeah, but he's been through a lot and needs some help getting on his feet. He's also not bad with a stick. We could use him on our team!" replied Canard enthusiastically.
"Buddy, I know you always see the good in everyone, but there is something off about him. Just be careful, okay?" he said earnestly.
"I will, brother. You know it. Laters, my man." Canard ran after Duke and smiled as if nothing had just transpired between and Wildwing and him. "Man, I'm starving! Let's grab some grub!"
"Yeah, me too. I could eat a whole feast!" Duke shouted in the street, raising his hockey stick as one might a sword. He was being overly theatrical to try to hide his agitation with Wildwing and what was said about him. It seemed to be working because Misses Thunderbeak and Canard didn't seem to suspect that he was very uncomfortable at their house. He put on his best show, just as he always had, but he knew that later that night, he would have to leave. He had to find Henna and Perry and seek revenge. When the Brotherhood found out he wasn't in jail, he would surely be tracked and likely killed.
I'm not about to put this beautiful family in danger, he thought to himself at the dinner table.
That night, while Duke lay on the guest bed gazing at the ceiling, listening to ensure the whole household was asleep, he thought about his father. Was he even alive? Did he miss Duke as Mr. Thunderbeak would have missed Canard? He sighed deeply, listening to the mister and misses chat in their bed above. Finally, he heard snoring from above. He slowly crept out of his bed, pulled on his boots and grabbed a long, black trench coat from the guest bedroom closet. He had purposefully left the bedroom window open so that it would make less noise when he decided to crawl out of it. Slowly, into the night he slithered out like the thief he never wanted to be. As he crashed into some bushes below, he held quiet for a moment, making sure no one heard. Then, suddenly, he sensed someone approaching from around the back of the house. He crouched down, shielding himself from the moonlight.
"Duke!" someone whispered. "Duke! I know you are leaving!" It was Canard!
"Canard! Over here!" whispered Duke in reply.
Canard came around the corner of the house and stared at Duke standing in the bushes.
"I'm…I'm sorry. But I have to go. I have to do something," said Duke, sadly.
"I know, buddy. Here, take this money and food. Go get Henna."
"What? You know of Henna?" Duke said in surprise.
"I..I…read my dad's personnel profiles sometimes. It's a weird hobby I have. I guess I always think I'll run across them or need the information one day. Anyways, I know she is the head of your Brotherhood. She stole your rightful place."
"You, you know I'm Duke l'Orange?" sputtered the grey drake.
"Well, yeah. I guess I do. I just kind-of put it all together. The stories about your father and the prince of the Brotherhood of the Blade have always captivated me. You are the prince!" Canard exclaimed a bit louder than he should have. Canard then became serious and lowered his voice, "But don't worry, I haven't told my da. And I don't plan to."
"Do you know of where my father is?" Duke frantically grabbed Canards shoulders.
"Your dad died a long time ago trying to escape Puckworld," Canard replied looking deeply into Duke's eyes. "He stole a ship and Henna tipped off the Puck Police. Together, they blasted it out of the sky. I'm sorry Duke, I thought you knew."
"No, no one knew. And of course, Henna wouldn't tell me. She always pleaded dumb."
"You've got to go. Leave now. Good luck, my friend. I will see you again, brother."
"Yeah, sure. Good luck to you, too," Duke whispered and he turned and ran into the night.