Isabella's Surprise

 

       

     I was an elementary school teacher for thirty-five years and there were no “ordinary days” in my classroom. You see, I wanted the children to learn experientially; I wanted them to feel snakes, grow plants, raise butterflies, hatch chickens and pheasants and ducks. Oops! Ducks. I’ve tried to repress this story, but here it is again, so I guess it’s time to write it down.

***

It was May 1988. Fruit trees were wrapped in pale pink blossoms and the pasture’s pond was like a silver mirror rimmed in cattail reeds and blackberry brambles. As I backed my pick-up truck into the barn, I smiled in anticipation of the day ahead. This was the day Isabella, my neighbor’s Muscovy duck, would be center stage in the classroom. It was hatch day, the day my students and I had been waiting for.

Shafts of sunlight pierced the barn’s walls and illuminated golden dust particles in the still morning air. Sheep stamped restlessly, anxious to be let out, and in the corner, on her nest in a metal cage, sat Isabella on her clutch of six eggs all ready to hatch.

For weeks, I had been preparing my students for the arrival of the setting mother duck. We had read Robert McCloskey’s Make Way for Ducklings and E.B. White’s Trumpet of a Swan. Students had done research projects and written their own stories about birds and eggs. My plan was that students would now learn first hand about duck adaptation, reproduction, protection, and behavior. They would also watch ducklings hatch and see how the mother cared for them. However, much to my surprise, the real lesson of the day, turned out to be how a setting duck “eliminates wastes”!

As I hoisted Isabella’s cage into the back of my truck, she rose up off her nest and displayed, to my surprise, two duckling and four eggs that were in various stages of hatching! This is going to be so perfect! I purred happily, “Ducks hatching right in front of my students’ eyes! A short twenty minutes later, Isabella’s cage was center stage under the glare of florescent lights on a table in my classroom. Nervous and hunkered down over her nest, Isabella sat like a statue as my twenty-six excited students busted through the door. Shush, be quiet! She’s here! A sudden reverence filled the room as the students realized there were ducklings hatching! 

            Carefully, I reached under Isabella and borrowed her ducklings so the students could have a closer look. It was a very exciting time and soon the news spread throughout the school. Kindergarteners, first graders, second graders and third graders all streamed into our room one class at a time to witness the miracle of hatching ducklings. The egg tooth, the downy feathers, the protective mother…it was all amazing and wonderful and I know all those students will remember that experience for the rest of their lives. However, the lesson my students will never forget is the one they learned hours after the intended “science lessons” were over. For it was the unintended lesson that left the real impact.

            By mid afternoon, the excitement of Isabella had worn off and my students and I had moved on to other things. Isabella hid her new ducklings under her ruffled feathers and all was quiet. But suddenly everything changed! Like the blast of a fire extinguisher,  a loud gushing sound broke the calm and the room was instantly consumed by a horrific stench! Oh my god! I gasped as a projectile of pea-green slop shot across the room and splattered on the bulletin board. Oh Isabella! Students leapt from their seats gagging and holding their mouths as they charged out the door. “Notice, boys and girls! Be sure to notice how quickly the gas molecules fill the room!” I called playfully, for I could only laugh as I held my own nose and headed for the clean-up supplies. Inevitably there were  consequences for my experiential lessons! This was a messy one indeed!

***

            You may think that’s the end of the story, but I haven’t told you about Mikey Ostlund yet. Now Mikey would often stop by my classroom after school to see if he could help out. He’d sharpen pencils, clear the chalk erasers, wash desks, etc.  When he came by on Isabella’s visitation day, I asked if he would help me carry Isabella’s cage out to my pickup truck. Mikey was pleased to be of help, so we went right to work! Exhausted and a bit numb, I didn’t notice where Isabella’s tail was pointing…I should have, but I didn’t…at least not until it was too late.

            When we were about two feet from the truck, Isabella raised her tail an inch or two and before I could even warn Mikey, she blasted him in the chest with all the power and velocity of a fire hose! Poor Mikey was splattered from his eyebrows to his knees! “Oh my God! Mikey!” I screamed, “Look at you!” Poor Mikey was stunned and stood motionless as the green slop slid down his face. We dropped the cage into the bed of the truck and then, I blush to admit it, I collapsed in gales of laughter and I could not stop! The sight of Mikey, after this long, long day, was too much for me. I laughed until tears streamed down my face and then led poor Mikey into the school building to get cleaned up.

            With the help of some lost and found clothes and many wet rags, I was able to get Mikey relatively cleaned up and I sent him home to his mother. As for Isabella me...weheaded back to our farms and the quiet of our own nesting places.