Spotty

The pond was tempting Spotty again. His parents had warned Spotty and his brothers and sisters not to get too close to water.

“You can slip into the water. Then your feathers will get wet and you will drown.” They would say.

But spotty was different. He was different from the moment he hatched out of egg. His brothers and sisters had pointed beaks, didn’t have any web between their fingers, and were bright yellow head to toe. Spotty on the other hand, had a round beak, large webs between his fingers and dark brown spots on his body. Every time his name was called, he was reminded of this difference.

Regardless, Spotty did his best to be a good chick. He learned how to peck at food instead of soaking it in water first. It did hurt a bit to swallow dry food but it was worth the pride in his parents’ eyes. He learned how to walk like everyone else. 1) Lift your foot, 2) bend your fingers so that they touch each other, 3) move your foot forward 4) open your fingers 5) put it back on the ground. Spotty preferred to just lift his foot and throw it forward in a semicircular motion but did not want to create another reason to be picked upon.

Spotty stopped pecking and looked at the pond in the distance. The surface of the pond was reflecting the tall pine trees surrounding it. A wind created small waves on the surface of the water and made it glitter like stars in the sky. The pond reminded Spotty of another difference. A distinction that no one else was aware of. A special quality that he was secretly proud of and would never try to change:

His feathers were magical!

Spotty figured this out on a hot summer day…

That day, his family were napping in the shadow of their coop. The coop was on the north side of the farm and the pond was on the south side, the farmer’s house sitting in between with white walls and a bright red roof. Spotty didn’t feel sleepy that afternoon. He wondered towards the west side of the farm, practicing his walk. He had just taken 10 or maybe 15 perfect steps in a row when he saw sunlight reflected on the pond. A breeze carried the fresh scent of water northward. Spotty’s tiny heart started beating fast, his feet moving hesitantly towards the pond. He was scared of drowning but could not resist the temptation. He passed the farmer’s house, the pond glittering in front of him. He stopped walking like his parents, throwing his foot forward was faster anyways. He could now see the algae on the surface of the pond clearly. Why did it smell so delicious?

Closer…, closer. He stopped at the edge of the pond. The water only a couple of inches below his feet. He bended his neck and grabbed a piece of algae, lifted it up in the air and swallowed it with jerk like movements of his head helping it down.

Wow! This was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted!

There was another piece a bit further. He leaned forward to reach it. It was too far. He moved his left foot a bit forward. The soil crumbled under his foot and his right foot failed to keep his balance. Cold water first touched Spotty’s feet and then his belly. The droplets of water showered the rest of his body. Spotty cried for help. He usually stayed silent because his brothers and sisters made fun of his croaky chirping sound, but right now, he about to die! Spotty cried again at the top of his lungs, but his parents were too far to hear him. He moved his feet frantically and before he knew it, he was moving gracefully on the surface of the water. A breeze caressed his feathers and cold refreshing water stroked his belly gently, as if he was under the wings of a mother he had never known before. He moved his feet again and his body slid on the surface effortlessly. He wished to return to the safety of land and his feet obeyed. Once on the ground, he looked down at his feathers. It wan unbelievable! They were not wet! The droplets of water just rolled off them and fell to the ground.

This was how Spotty learned that his feathers were magical!

After that day, Spotty developed the habit of sneaking to the pond, whenever he got the chance. The problem was, as his brothers and sister grew older, they napped less often, which meant less time for enjoying the pond.

“Hey, Spotty!”

His brother’s voice interrupted his day dream. Redd was holding a worm in his claws.

“Do you think this is juicy enough for you?” Redd said with a grinn.

Spotty rolled his eyes and returned to pecking.

“It looks so weird when you peck! I like it when you jerk your head and eat.” He continued, now dangling the helpless worm in the air.

Spotty loved worms, but was not going to help Redd make fun of him.

“Leave him alone Redd!” Their mother, Henrietta, protested.

Their father, Doodle, just shook his head.

Redd bended down and grabbed the worm in his bright red beak. He kept eye contact with Spotty, as if saying, “C'mon, I know you want it!”

Spotty turned his back towards Redd and started pecking at the ground again. He was annoyed and excited at the same time. Redd had just given him an excuse to walk away from them.

***

Spotty was floating on the surface of the pond. He had just tried diving under the water. Everything slowed down under the surface, sounds seemed distant, water plants dancing a synchronized dance.

“Moooooom! Daaaaad! Spotty is drowning! Moooom!” Redd shrieked.

Spotty looked up startled and saw Redd jumping up and down on an old log on the side of the pond. He heard the anxious clucking of his Mom in the distance and saw her rushing towards the pond, followed by his Dad, three sisters and two remaining brothers. Spotty was not sure what to do. He was right in the middle of the pond and his entire family had already seen him.

Redd jumped up one more time on the log. Spotty could not tell whether he was scared or excited. As Redd landed, a piece of log cracked under his feet, followed by a splash.

“Maybe he has magic feathers, too” Spotty thought for a second. The thought disappeared as Redd moved his small wings desperately and sank slowly. Henrietta’s eyes kept darting between Spotty and Redd. Doodle and Henrietta bent down to catch Red but could not reach him.

Spotty started swimming towards Redd. Moving his webbed feet as fast as he could. The pond was not very deep near the log, but deep enough for Redd to drown. He was only a few inches away. Redd’s head went under water. Spotty dived.

Spotty opened his round beak. He grabbed the back of Redd’s head. Redd was heavier than he thought, or was it the wet feathers? He moved his feet as forcefully as he could. A few more strokes. Redd’s head was above the surface. His eyes were open, staring back at Spotty, but his body was frozen. “Is he alive?” Spotty thought. Redd coughed up some water and took a deep breath, wheezing.

The log was too fragile and round to climb, and his family was standing on top of it, dead silent, with their beaks wide open. The edge of the pond was sloped a few feet to their left. Spotty wished to get to the slope. His feet protested, then obeyed. Spotty was panting when Redd’s feet touched the ground. He ran under Henrietta’s feathers who was running towards them on the shore. Doodle joined them. Spotty shook off the water and the droplets of water fell off like magic. Henrietta and Doodle looked at each other, then at Spotty. Spotty looked back, held his head high and smiled. He didn’t mind being different any more.