Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BAETY SWALLS
TUCKER
My teammates are laughing, but I’m seriously freaked out. I might be six five and two hundred and fifteen pounds, but I’m super jumpy.
“Tuck, what the fuck are you saying?” Col whisper-yells. “We aren’t armed.”
“I know that. And you know that, but whoever is lurking out there doesn’t know.”
Nash tries to reassure me. “Who could it be around here? This is private property. It’s probably staff or some of our teammates who had our same idea.”
“I hope not.” Colsen rolls his eyes. “Remember last year when we had that party on the beach to celebrate winning the championship? We went skinny dipping, and a few of the freshmen decided it would be funny to steal our clothes. I really don’t feel like walking back to our rooms buck naked.”
It’s my turn to reassure my teammates. “Nah, I doubt it. No one would dare prank the king of pranks. Remember what I did to them last year?”
Mack explains what happened to Nash. “Tucker got revenge on the freshmen. He snuck into their rooms at the Gamma house while they were asleep, and they all woke up with maxi-pads stuck to their foreheads and the word “Loser” in red marker on them. I don’t know what kind of glue he used, but it took them an entire day to get them off. ”
“Evil,” Nash chuckles.
“Yup. Whoever you are, you don’t want to start a prank war with me,” Tucker yells. “Fuck around and find out is my motto; you’ve been warned.”
Another noise, a little louder this time, seems to be getting closer.
“Maybe it’s some of the cheerleaders who had our same idea and they’re naked.” Mack grins.
“Or maybe,” Nash offers. “A serial killer is hiding in the training center, and he’s going to kill us one by one. Like in a slasher movie.”
I shudder. “Dude, that’s dark. Why the fuck would you say that?”
Nash laughs. “It’s just a joke, Tucker. I’m a horror movie buff. No serial killer with a shred of common sense would try to kill us while we’re together. We might be naked, but we’re four men in great shape. We would easily overpower any creep.”
The noise is even louder this time.
“Look.” Mack points to my duffel bag, a couple of feet away near a cluster of young bamboo shrubs that create a natural border, separating our round pool from the few similar ones in this area of the gardens. “Whatever this is, it’s in there.”
Mack is right. My light blue Cove Knights duffel bag moves again, and we hear the same rustling noise.
“What the fuck? If someone is trying to steal my clothes again, so help me God.”
“What are you waiting for?” Col says. “Go and check.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why should I? What if it really is a serial killer like Nash said? Everyone knows that the first rule of horror movies is to never wander around alone. That’s when you get killed.”
“Come on, I was just joking. I doubt there’s a serial killer hiding behind those shrubs.” Nash chuckles. “Just go and take a look.”
Nope. Not fucking happening. “Why me? Why don’t you go if you’re so sure it’s safe?”
“Because that noise is coming from your bag. If it was coming from mine, I would be the one who had to go,” Nash says.
“Yup,” Mack chuckles. “I agree. Next time, if you don’t want to be the one to check, leave your gear in the locker room like we did.”
The bag moves again. I think I left it unzipped. “I just wanted to get ahead on my laundry before everyone starts doing it at the weekend. And now my zeal is gonna get me killed.”
Nash rolls his eyes. “Whatever is in your bag isn’t going to kill you. It’s probably a frog or a spider or something like that. Come on, let’s go check it out together.”
“A spider?” I shudder. “Ick. I don’t like spiders. And if it can make my bag move, it must be one big motherfucker. Wait. What if it’s a snake?”
“Then we won’t touch it and call animal control.” Nash sounds way calmer than I feel right now. “Let’s go, Tucker.”
He stands up, and I reluctantly do the same and follow him out of the hot water of the spring.
Mack and Colsen are laughing uncontrollably. “This better not be some kind of prank, guys. Because I swear—oh my God.” I gasp when I see the cause of all this chaos.
“Is it a spider?” Mack asks.
It isn’t a spider. There’s a fluffy creature with a blue-ish and orange beak that has made itself at home inside my duffel bag.
“Not a spider or a snake.” I say. “It looks like a big baby chick.”
“I don’t think it’s a chicken chick.” Nash muses. “I think it might be a duck.”
I lean to take a closer look at the creature. “Are you a chicken or a duck?”
The little ball of fluff opens its eyes and answers my question.
Quack.
“Well, fuck me.” Nash chuckles. “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”
“I get the point, Nash. But what the fuck is this thing doing inside my duffel bag?”
Nash seems to give my question some serious thought. “I don’t know. This is obviously a baby. Maybe it’s lost its mommy.”
“It makes sense.” I consider the situation, rubbing my chin. “Maybe its mommy and brothers and sisters are still around here. Should we look for them?”
“Good idea,” Nash says, grabbing his sweatpants from the ground near my bag and putting them on. “What wasn’t a great idea was getting into that pool and not bringing any towels. But it’s better to get dressed. I don’t want to be found walking around looking for a bunch of ducks totally naked.”
We check the surrounding area for any signs of wildlife that could be related to the one that invaded my duffel bag.
“Here, ducky, ducky.” I call out. “Quack, quack.”
Nothing. If the little fluffy baby chick got separated from its family, they aren’t around anymore.
“No sign of a flock of ducks. Is a group of ducks called a flock, by the way?” I wonder as we return to the pool.
“According to Google,” Col says from near the pool where he and Mack have been observing the show from. “It depends on what the ducks are doing. Flock works in general, but since your duck is on land, it’s a flock or a waddling.”
I glare at him and Mack. “Thanks. Glad you know how to use Google. Since you got out of the pool, you could have come out and helped me and Nash look for the rest of the waddling or whatever.”
“And miss out on you quacking all over the place?” Mack lifts his phone with a shit-eating grin on his face. “This one is gonna go down in history.”
I swear, if I didn’t love Mack like a little brother, I would throttle him. He can be such a little shit. “Well, the problem remains.” I say, kneeling to look inside the duffle bag. “What are we gonna do with it?”
The duckling has made itself at home and it’s asleep among my dirty clothes. “Oh, hell no. You can’t sleep in my lucky boxers.” I grab one end of the worn fabric, but the deranged tiny creature wakes up and bites me.”
Quack!
“Holy shit!” I favor my hand, checking the finger the thing has nipped at. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I wail.
The next time I attempt to grab the fabric of my underwear, I’m prepared for the attack and take my hand back before I get bitten again.
The duck starts arranging the soft cotton around itself. “Seriously. You’re cute, but those are my lucky pants. You can’t have them.”
“Your lucky pants?” Nash asks.
Colsen is the one who explains. “Don’t even, dude.
In his freshman year, Tucker was second string to our starting goalie, Cash Hanbury.
One night, early in the season, Cash pulled his groin during warm up and Coach Harrison sent Tucker into the crease for the entire game.
He had these unwashed boxers on. We won the game five-zero.
Tucker was incredible. He credits those boxers for the W and refuses to wash them. ”
Nash’s nose twitches. “Why the fuck did you have unwashed underwear?”
I rub the back of my neck, still glaring at the duckling that’s napping, wrapped in my lucky underpants.
“It was an unfortunate series of events. I might have gone to a party hosted by the swim team and gone home with this hot girl. She was a Zeta, a senior. We were up all night having fun, if you know what I mean. Vodka was flowing, and we went through an entire box of condoms. I wasn’t worried because the game was in the afternoon.
For some reason, my alarm didn’t work the day after, and I woke up one hour before the game, naked and in someone else’s bed.
I couldn’t find my underwear and decided, fuck it and went commando to the locker room.
It was better to do that than to risk Coach’s wrath if I were late on game day.
When I got there, I was told that Cash was hurt, and I was starting.
I hate playing without underwear, so I found this pair in my locker.
I had forgotten them there after practice and they hadn’t been washed.
Like Col said, I absolutely slayed that night.
A shutout in my first ever NCAA game. So I kept the pants in my locker for the next time. ”
Nash looks even more disgusted than before. “So you kept wearing that pair of unwashed underwear the entire season?”
“You can bet your ass I did. And we went on an epic winning streak. We didn’t lose one game.”
“Hold on a second.” Nash doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I’m not arguing with good luck rituals; I have my own. But I don’t think those pants are as lucky as you think they are. If my calculations are correct, you’re one year older than me and Col, right?”
I nod. “Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?”
“That was my senior year of high school. I was following the NCAA tournament, of course. I had already committed to playing for Hemlock Beach. That year the Cove Knights went all the way to the Frozen Four finals, but you lost to Yale. So your pants aren’t as lucky as you claim.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you know why we lost to Yale?” I tut at my miscreant teammate.
“No.” Nash gasps. “Don’t tell me.”
“Yup,” I gloat. “I had forgotten my pants in my locker when we packed to go to New Haven for the final game. I tested my theory a few other times over the years. If I don’t have my lucky pants on, we lose.”
The look on Nash’s face begins to change. No hockey player worthy of that name would ever mess with juju. It’s not an exact science, but we all live by it.
“But do they have to be unwashed? I’ve been wondering what the atrocious smell that wafted out of your locker and out of your bag was, and now I know.
Four years of sweaty, unwashed boxers you have been wearing during games is consistent with that ungodly smell.
It’s worse than ten locker rooms full of unwashed gear.
Maybe try to wash them and see what happens. ”
It’s my turn to gasp. “No fucking way. Have you not heard anything I just said? What if I wash them and they lose their magic? No can do.”
Mack chuckles. “Well, fuck, it looks like you’re gonna have to fight for them. That duckling seems to love your stinky pants, Tuck.”
My teammate is right. The fluffy little creature is nestled in my boxers and is sleeping peacefully.
I try to lift it out of my duffle bag again, but this time I use the pants to hold her in a little bundle.
The baby duck wakes up but doesn’t attack me.
Quack, quack, quack.
It shakes almost like a dog, its little tail vibrating with the motion.
“Ok, then. Let’s go.”
Colsen, Mack, and Nash all glare at me suspiciously. “What?”
“Where are you going with that thing?” Nash asks.
“I don’t know. I think I might take it to a vet to make sure it’s healthy, and it doesn’t have rabies or something. Do ducks get rabies? I mean, it didn’t draw blood, but it bit me.”
Mack looks perplexed. “What if its mom comes back? Wouldn’t it be better to leave it here?”
“I don’t know if they can get rabies; the vet will know.
And I’m not leaving it here. What if its mom doesn’t come back?
This thing is so tiny and defenseless. It could be eaten by a predator.
I don’t know if we have wolves around here, but we definitely have coyotes and foxes.
I couldn’t sleep knowing this baby is out here in danger.
Besides, hopefully the vet has some padded gloves or something and can get it away from my lucky pants without losing a finger. ”
Colsen agrees with me. “I’m with Tuck. I don’t know if she’s gonna survive out here on her own. The vet will be able to make sure she’s ok.”
“She? Do you think it’s a female?” I ask.
He shows me his phone. “While you guys argued about good luck charms, I googled ducks. First off, it says that it’s very unlikely that they could have rabies, so that’s good news.
Also males make a raspy sound; it’s mostly females, the ones who quack.
And males display more colors even at a very young age.
She’s mostly brown with a little yellow. ”
“It makes sense that she’s attracted to my male pheromones then.”
Nash shakes his head. “Yuck. That smell can only attract wild animals, dude. I doubt any human female would even go close to you in those pants.”
“Whatever.” I bite out. “Baety obviously knows a real man when she sees one.”
“Betty?” Col asks.
I correct him. “No, not ‘Betty,’ it’s Baety, even though it sounds similar.”
“What kind of name is Baety? It isn’t even a real name.” Nash argues.
“Her name is Baety Swalls.” I inform my teammates.
Colsen pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m almost afraid to ask why you chose this particular name. But I’ll bite. Why Baety Swalls?”
My smile widens. “It’s an anagram for sweaty balls. It’s perfect for her since she likes my lucky pants.”
“Oh, fuck.” Colsen says. “We’re in trouble. Just FYI, Tuck, in the email with the living quarters rules that we got when we moved in, it states no pets.”
I tighten my hold on my boxers, but I’m careful not to crush Baety, who in the meantime has fallen asleep lulled by my walking. “I’m not trying to keep her. I’m just going to make sure she’s safe and taken care of.”
“I hope so,” Mack rolls his eyes.
“Why does no one believe me? I’m not deciding to keep her. But I can’t leave her in danger.”
Col sighs. “You already named her, Tuck. That is never a good sign.”
“They’re right.” Nash backs them. “Don’t get any strange ideas. We’ll leave her with the vet; they’ll know what to do with her.”
“Of course. There’s nothing to worry about.
” I tell them as we get to the parking garage where we got a permanent spot allocated for the duration of summer training.
“Don’t worry, Baety. Whether it’s with the vet or with us, I’ll keep you safe.
” I murmur before settling into the driver’s seat and placing the duck wrapped in my boxers onto my lap.