Duck Forty-Seven

Every June, Hazel's town held a duck race. Two hundred rubber ducks floated down to the park. You paid two dollars for a duck. The money bought books for the school library. The first duck to reach the park won a bicycle.

Hazel was eleven years old. She wanted that bicycle very much. She saved her money for three weeks. On race morning, she bought duck number forty-seven.

"It is a lucky number," the seller said.

"Why?" Hazel asked.

"I do not know. People just say it." Hazel held the duck in her hands. It was small and shiny, with a tiny orange beak. She kissed it.

"Please win," she whispered.

At noon, everyone stood on the old bridge. The mayor wore a bright green hat. She counted down from ten. People shouted the numbers. At zero, men tipped a big box over the rail. Two hundred ducks fell into the river. Splash!

Hazel ran along the bank with her friends. The ducks floated away in a yellow line. The water moved slowly, and the sun was hot. Hazel looked at the ducks and saw many numbers. Twelve was in front. Then ninety. Then a duck with a green dot.

"Where is forty-seven?" her friend asked. Hazel stopped. She looked at the bridge. Then she saw it. Duck number forty-seven was still near the bridge. It sat in a small circle of water. It turned round and round, like a dancer.

"No," Hazel said.

"No, no, no." She ran back. The other ducks went on down the river. Soon the yellow line was far away. People cheered at the park. Duck forty-seven turned slowly, round and round. Hazel stood on the stone path. She called to the duck.

"Come on! Go! Please!"

The duck did not go. It turned again, and again. A tourist took a photo. A dog barked at it. A child asked, "Why is that one not racing?"

"It does not want to," a man said.

"It likes it there."

Hazel's face was red. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She took a long stick. She put it in the water. She pushed gently. The duck moved a little, and the river took it. For about five seconds, the duck floated well. Then it hit a stone again and stopped.

"It is the worst duck in the world," Hazel said.

"Maybe," said her friend.

"But it is your duck." She sat on the bank to watch the duck. It turned and turned, and slowly she started to laugh. She laughed until her stomach hurt.

At the park, the first duck arrived. The winner was number one hundred and twelve. A man in a blue shirt jumped up and down. He got the bicycle.

Hazel did not go to the park. She stayed at the bridge with her duck. Later, the mayor walked back along the river. She stopped next to Hazel.

"Which one is yours?" she asked.

"Forty-seven," said Hazel.

"It never left." The mayor looked at the duck. She looked at Hazel. Then she took off her green hat and bowed.

"We have a second prize," she said.

"It is for the very last duck. Every year, I say we do not need it. Every year, I am wrong." She gave Hazel a small paper bag. Inside was a lemon cake and a card. The card said, "Last place. First in our hearts."

Hazel laughed. She took the duck from the water. She put it on her shoulder. "Next year," she said, "I buy two. And I will teach them to swim."