This one had to come out. So here it is. I kind of feel like it just tails off, instead of really ending, but maybe that will be written at another time.
Daisy grew up loving and hating the river that flowed behind her house. She loved the sound it made, running over the rocks, the smooth ones that had been the rivers for generations and the rough ones it had recently claimed for its own. She would lie in bed and listen to the conversations it had with the world, letting it tell her stories as she fell asleep. She loved the animals it drew, geese and deer and wilder things. She would watch them frolic and drink and bathe in the mornings, leaving footprints in the dew.
But she hated that she couldn’t go to the river itself, couldn’t play with the animals or splash in the water. The water was too deep, Mama said, and she’d get carried off. And there were rumors of bandits using the river to get away from the sheriffs up north, though Daisy had never seen them. And Daisy listened to her mom, like a good girl, so when she promised she’d stay away from the river, she really meant it, no matter the treasures it held.
Of all the animals Daisy loved seeing at the water’s edge, the ducks were her favorite. She loved the sounds they made, honking their way through the sky. She loved the way their backsides wiggled as they dipped their beaks in the water. But the thing she loved the most were the tiny little ducklings, little balls of fluff that followed their mamas around. She dreamed of keeping ducks for pets, but she knew that Mama would never allow it.
One day, when Mama was down the road at the Smith’s, cleaning their house and doing the washing, Daisy was looking out the window at her river and saw a pair of ducks fly in. She laughed as she watched them play in the water, and as always, wanted to go out and join them. But she was a good girl, and stayed away. As the day passed, the ducks didn’t leave, but instead began flying back and forth, picking things up and returning to a spot near the bank of the river, under a tree. With amazement, Daisy realized that they were building a nest. They’d be out there every day!
That night, at dinner, Daisy told Mama about the ducks, and their nest. Mama smiled, but reminded her that she was to stay away from them and, more importantly, the river. Of course she would, Daisy said, but she was mad inside as she said it.
As the days went on, Daisy spent what time she could watching her ducks. They fascinated her, and every day that Mama left to go take care of someone’s house or do their laundry or head into town, Daisy was at her window. Well, at first. One day it was just too nice, and she went out in their yard behind the house – still far from the river – and just stood there. It was nice the next day, and the day after, and Daisy kept going outside. Either she didn’t notice that she was going further and further from her house or she didn’t want to notice, but she began keeping an eye out for any sign that Mama was coming so she could hurry back to where she was supposed to be.
Then came the day her life changed. As she stood in the grass behind her house, she saw a little duckling emerge from the nest. A duckling! The cutest thing ever! Daisy just had to take a better look and began creeping closer and closer. She knew that she’d gone way further than Mama would ever have been comfortable with, but she needed to see these baby ducks. When she reached the rocks that formed the boundary between the grass and the shore, she knelt down and stayed as still as she could. The rocks were hard and wet under her knees, but the allure of the ducklings was too strong.
Daisy didn’t stay out by the river for very long that day, but it was long enough that she stained her dress and had to come up with an explanation for Mama. Inside her that night was a mix of feelings – excitement at seeing the ducklings, guilt about lying to Mama, the knowledge that she had a Secret, and a firm resolution that she wouldn’t go out again tomorrow.
And she didn’t. Though it was hard, knowing how cute the little ducklings were and how close they were, she stayed inside all day, tidying up and trying to make up for the lie she’d told (though Mama didn’t know she was lying, Daisy hoped). There was a knot deep inside her belly that burned all day. It burned with worry over what she’d done – she’d gone near the river, which she’d promised never to do – and it burned with excitement about the wonderful things she’d seen. That night, Mama laughed with her and told her stories about the people in town, and it was all better. Daisy had gone out to the river – though Mama didn’t know – and Mama still loved her.
So the next day, she went to look at the ducks again. There were four ducklings in all, cute balls of fluff with webbed feet. Daisy stayed out there for hours (though she stayed on her feet, so as to protect her dress) and marveled at the ducks and the river and all of it. And that night, she didn’t have to lie to Mama. Well, was not telling her that she’d gone down to the river a lie if she just didn’t mention it? Daisy didn’t think so. And the next day she brought an old blanket to sit on.
Daisy began spending every day that it didn’t rain out near the river. Sometimes, she’d just watch the ducks. Sometimes, she’d bring little bits of veggies – a spare lettuce leaf or a couple of beans – and she discovered that the ducks would come over and eat right out of her hand! Some days, she’d scoot right up to the edge of the river and look down into the flowing water, imagining it carrying her to places she’d only hear stories about. And sometimes, she did it all.
Lying to Mama came easier to Daisy as time went on. Her dress might get muddy, so she’d make up a story about an accident that happened while mopping the floors. Or she’d barely get home in time, and Mama would wonder why Daisy was out of breath and flush with exertion. But as she spent more time out by the river and she told Mama more lies, the knot in her stomach grew. It burned every day now, her constant companion. She didn’t think that she’d ever live without it. She could never tell Mama what she was doing, that’s for sure, but she didn’t know how to stop going.
So Daisy resolved to just live with it. After all, the trips out to the river to see her ducks – the ducklings would come sit in her hands sometimes when she would feed them! – were the most exciting thing that she could remember happening. And she knew what Mama would say if she ever found out. But somehow the hardest part was that she couldn’t share this thing – this wonderful, exciting thing – with the person she was closest to. So the knot in her stomach grew and grew.
Daisy became irritable when she wasn’t out near the river. She just didn’t feel right, she said, or not enough sleep. What were more lies on top of the ones she’d already been telling? And things between her and Mama weren’t as fun. There wasn’t laughter at night, talking over the stories of the day. When Mama would stay home during the day, or take Daisy with her on a trip to town, Daisy was frustrated that she couldn’t go to her special place.
The ducklings got bigger and bigger, as all creatures do, testing their wings and learning how to fly, and one day when Daisy went down to the river, all of them were gone. Not just the ducklings, but their parents too. She stayed out by the river as long as she dared that day, not playing or doing anything but hoping against hope that her ducks weren’t gone. But they were, and her heart was broken.
That night, Mama asked her multiple times if she was okay, but Daisy just nodded and said she was fine, if a little tired. But inside, the knot that had been there the entire time was twisting and roiling. This was the worst day she could remember, and she couldn’t tell Mama. She couldn’t tell why all she wanted to do was cry. So she lied some more, keeping the emotions inside. And the knot inside her grew.
Daisy still spent every day looking out at the river, but now she did it from inside her room. The water was still there, and the other animals, but when she looked at the river now, mostly what she felt was pain. But she couldn’t stop looking. And although she didn’t go down to the river anymore, she still had her secrets from Mama. Her secrets about lying. Her secrets about the exciting times she spent with the ducks. Her secrets about the pain. She’d never tell Mama, she knew, about her summer days, but there would always be a distance between her and Mama now.
Project Gemini 