duck diaries

i went to pilot school. outside of regular class hours, there were demos.

sophomore year, after finishing up with an appointment, i rushed into this room where a landing demo was, but it was over. it was packed in there, man. it was so full of first year, second year, and third year ducks perched on tables and standing anywhere they could. the director of the long distance flight program and an instructor whose specialty is landing ran said demo. they could be seen quacking with encouragement, moving from duck to duck to goose. most ducks had a paper with diagrams and trajectories. maybe i can get one of these handouts to go… i stood by the wall waiting for the smoke to clear; by smoke, i mean the fart clouds left by the excited flocks of my fellow flying friends. the room cleared out quickly, maybe five to ten minutes. 

oh, hey, the instructor greeted me. i didn’t know you were here. before i could say anything the director chimed in.

yeah, he was standing in the back the whole time like a weirdo.

so, this must be what directors are like. some at least. i just stared at him. him, someone i’d never even had a conversation with. still though, time moves on. the demo instructor ignored, or didn’t hear (i chose to believe ignored) the comment, asking how i was. i mean, stunned? i couldn’t even have a decent talk with the instructor with the director in the room getting away with disrespect, and the instructor’s silence affirming the hostility. my feathers ruffled. the pond i came from, ducks would have honked in uproar. i didn’t want to be like ducks from my pond in that way, but how would a duck from this river respond? still though, time moves on. it took a while to figure it out, and still my feathers ruffle and i forget.

two or three years later, the same director said to other, younger ducks that i’m his favorite. this dude has never tried to get to know me and gave up on every conversation about the way i was flying. i wonder what it takes to be the favorite. the greenest feathers or the longest wingspan? sharp eyes? maybe all three.

- mal duckley