Ethel the talking duck

“It looks like a long queue,” I said to the person next to me. “How long is the wait?”  

“It doesn’t work like that,” the man said. “Ethel will talk to whoever she wants to talk to, she won’t see everyone here even if they’ve been waiting days, others she’ll see five minutes after they arrive.” 

“That seems unfair.” 

“If Ethel’s got nothing to say to you, Ethel’s got nothing to say to  you.” 

“Well I won’t stay long, I’m visiting the area and thought I’d come and see. What about you, are you in the church of the holy Duck?” 

“Yes, I believe.  I’ve seen Ethel in action.” 

“The duck has spoken to you?” 

“Not to me directly, but to my sister.” 

“What did the duck say to your sister.” 

“She came to see Ethel for advice on her new boyfriend.  They had been going out for just a week and he had asked her to marry him and was all in on sharing a bank account.” 

“I’d certainly seek advice about that, not necessarily a duck, but I’d talk to someone. What did Ethel say.” 

“Ethel advised her to do more research on her new boyfriend. His social network footprint only went back a few months, and Ethel suggested she research into his home town, looking for people with the same name, or similar names.” 

“What did she find?” 

“She found a conman, he’d abbreviated his name, but in his real name she found a dozen different accounts, with many different girlfriends and fiancés, and newspaper articles about fraud, theft and sexual assault.  She dumped him on the spot.  Ethel saved her from ruin.” 

“Very impressive for a duck, but very obvious advice.” 

A woman called out to the room. 

“Do we have a Terrence Oblong here?” he said. 

“That’s me,” I said. 

“I told you it could be as quick as five minutes.” 

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll let you know how I get on.” 

I was led into a room empty, bar for a table with a red, silk covering, and a chair.  On the table sat a duck, an all-white duck, not a breed I recognised. 

“Take a seat,” the woman said to me, and bid me to a chair. 

As I sat, the woman left alone with the duck. 

“Quack,” said Ethel. 

“Hello,” I said. “I understand that you want to speak to me.” 

“Quack.” 

“I’m Terrence Oblong.” 

“Quack.” 

“Do you speak English?” I said. “I’m not fluent in duck.” 

“Quack, quack, quack, quack.” 

“Only when I heard about a talking duck I sort of assumed ...” 

“Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack.”