I was bringing the groceries in when I heard it. It’s winter, late at night, and there isn’t a body of water anywhere near me. I was hearing a duck quacking from the general direction of my back yard. I’m no duck expert, but it sounded distraught. What the fuck? I thought briefly of going to see what it was, or why a duck was hanging around my yard, but I was tired, and it was late. I just shook my head in amazement and went inside. By the time I had put my groceries away, I had forgotten all about it.
The next morning as I left for work, I didn’t see the neighbor’s cat Muffin at my door begging for treats. I figured she was elsewhere, hiding from the cold, and I headed out. When I got home hours later, my neighbor Jenn was outside calling Muffin and looking worried. The sweet kitty was nowhere to be found. I walked around the back of my house to the gate to chat, and that’s when I saw it. A bloody, ripped apart mess, near the back corner of my lawn. My pace slowed as I was certain of what I would find. I realized that I should somehow warn Jenn, but she saw the mess and started to scream. We called the police and waited long minutes on her porch. I knew she knew that of course I wasn’t at fault, but it was my yard. How can you see that your cat has been torn apart and be logical?
That night in bed I couldn’t stop thinking of the cat, and the way that it looked like she had been cut open and turned inside out. The organs all separate and sitting to the side. No animal could do that. The police were no help. I thought I heard that stupid duck quack again, and I thought “you better watch out little guy, if you’re outside you could end up looking like road kill in a blender with a side of organs”.
Two more days passed. No duck. Maybe it got eaten too. Jenn still looked at me strangely, red eyed and quiet. She stopped to talk just long enough to tell me that our other neighbors cat and dog were both missing. She glanced at my lawn. I knew she was seeing again what had been left of Muffin. She quickly made an excuse to leave, and I was left standing there, shaking my head, feeling guilty.
I woke the next morning to headlines of two missing teens, and a strange rash of missing pets. I was happy to find my yard was empty, except for a small pool of blood. Very small. I convinced myself that it was from Muffin’s demise, even though I knew it had snowed since. I eyed my hedge suspiciously and went to work.
Work ran late, and by the time I got home, I was cranky and ready for a late dinner. When I got to my door, I heard that fucking duck again. I was so pissed, after everything that had happened, and my nerves were frayed. I stomped around the side of my house practically yelling “get out of my yard you fucking duck”. I came to a dead stop as I saw red eyes peering from the hedge. Something stepped forward and I stepped back. All I could see were those eyes, and a craggy long toothed mouth, making that same distressed duck call. As I turned to run, I heard a low growl and the crunch of snow. I made it into the sunporch (thank fucking god it wasn’t locked) and was trying desperately to unlock the inner door when I heard a hard slam against the storm door. The key finally slid home as window glass shattered. I locked the door behind me.
The first policeman that I called came to the house, parked, and after a strangled scream, never appeared at my door. I have called a second time, and I tried to warn them, but my babbling about ducks and creatures seemed to convince them that I was nuts. I heard them laugh as they hung up, telling me they would send someone.
From the front of the house I can heard the crunch of glass, and a small helpless quacking. I can only hope that it goes away at daybreak and that between now and then, it doesn’t kill too many policemen. I’m not sure that they will believe me.