Dead Shot Duck

For Our Fathers

"Father! Look! I did it!" he said. The little kid showed the taller version of himself the wooden carving. The father smiled, placing a hoof on the boy's head. 

"Good job, Junior," said the goat. "You'll be making blades in no time with your skill." He examined the wooden holder. "It's perfect for a blade." The boy beamed brightly. 

Knock, knock!

"Come in!" The door opened to a small duck in a black uniform similar to the older goat. "Ah, Dead Shot. Come in, come in."

"Hu, please. I... I don't really want to-"

"Come in, meet my son," General Hu smiled, "Junior, this is Dead Shot Duck. Dead Shot Pengyou (a term for friend), this is junior."

"It is an honor to meet you," said Junior. Dead Shot bowed to him. 

"It is great to meet you as well, Junior." Dead Shot smiled warmly. "I hope you have your father's tactical leadership. You'll need it someday."

"But hopefully not soon, eh?" General Hu smirked, nudging the duck's wing. Dead Shot rubbed his feathers, shaking his head with a smile. 

"Don't grow up too fast, kid," Dead Shot said. "Come on, Hu. We have a mission. It seems like it's a big one." 

"I'll get my stuff ready," General Hu replied. Hu Junior watched as the elder goat and black duck walked outside on another mission. He would later hear news that the mission was a success, but the goat general was never quite the same after that. Hu didn't know why his father became quiet and angry. Most times he would be by himself or in a heated discussion with the other generals in the private corners of his house, corners that General Hu thought little Hu never knew about. 

But Dead Shot Duck was never there. 

Hu couldn't understand it at the time. Until that night. He walked into his father's room. He only meant to get a cup of water. The door was slightly ajar. Little Hu opened it. The bed was tidy, except for a few sprinkles of what looked like water. The window was open but the sky was clear except for the faintest smell of smoke. 

His father's favorite dagger was placed in the center of the bed. Hu picked it up and held it. Then came a knock. His mother got it. 

"Yes, what is it?" She asked. Hu peeked from his father's door. Two royal guards stood in front.

"Are you the wife of General Hu?"

"Yes I am."

"I'm... Sorry to say this ma'am, but..."

"Oh no," she crashed to her knees. Hu ran to her mom, clutching her tightly. "What... what's happened?"

"Your... General Hu is dead."

"But... they weren't supposed to be on a-"

"He was... killed."

"By who?"

"We..." the royal guards looked at each other, somewhat unsure of how to present the news. "We suspect that... it was one of their own. General Wu Nang, General Cheng Long, and General Shang Lu are all dead."

"You... you mean... Dead Shot Duck..."

"We believe so."

Hu ran to his father's room, shutting the door. He latched onto the dagger, clutching it tightly to his chest like a stuffed teddy bear. It was the only thing left of his father. 

"Baba." Hu's tears streamed down his face. The moon's full light shone on the weeping goat through the open window. He rocked back and forth, waiting for something to tell him he was dreaming. Something tell him that his father was still alive. Something to say that all of this was a joke, a nightmare, a mirage.