Free Seaglass Summer by Anjali Banerjee Page A

what was broken. In that moment, I no longer felt queasy. I believe, in part, we feel faint when we feel helpless. We are stronger when we begin to see the possibilities, to see what we can do.”
    I’m not yet sure what I can do. I see Shopsy going home covered in patches of bare skin, and I see the blood seeping from Brandon’s paw.
    But then, right before closing time, Bremolo comes in for a checkup. He trots around the hospital, wagging his tail. Harvey is dressed up in a dinner jacket and pressed slacks, his white hair neatly combed to the side.
    “The leg looks good,” Uncle Sanjay says.
    “That old dog is doing so well,” Harvey says, grinning. “Runs around the house like he’s a puppy again. Doesn’t even notice that missing leg.”
    Saundra pats Bremolo on the head and gives Harvey a fake smile. “You look nice. Going on a date?”
    Harvey straightens his jacket and pats his hair. “Dinner at the Witless Cove Pizzeria with Liana Lopez. Taking Bremolo with me. Liana has a dog, too.”
    I grab a sample bag of dog treats from the kennel room and hand them to Harvey. I’m smiling. “The dog’s name is Lulu. Here, this is for Bremolo to take on his date with her.”

Chapter Eighteen
DUCK ON THE LOOSE
    M y second Wednesday at the clinic, Duff grabs my sleeve and drags me into an exam room. Inside, Uncle Sanjay is talking to a man who looks like Santa Claus except for his Hawaiian shirt. He brought in a big cardboard box labeled DOLE , with pictures of bananas on the sides.
    “Bananas?” I ask.
    Uncle Sanjay presses his finger to his lips to shush me.
    “I’m sure the poor fella was hit by a car,” the manwhispers. “He was wobbling at the side of the road, on his last legs, God bless his little soul. He let me pick him right up. Good thing I had the box.”
    Oh no.
    Uncle Sanjay ushers me over. He lifts a flap on the box and I peek inside. I’m looking at … a duck!
    “Is that a geoduck?” I ask in awe, remembering the bumper sticker on the back of Uncle Sanjay’s truck: GEODUCK FOR STATE BIRD .
    Everyone goes quiet. Hawk grins, like he’s holding in laughter. Duff stares at me.
    “Uh, not exactly,” Uncle Sanjay says. “You pronounce it
goo-ey-duck
, and it isn’t really a bird. A geoduck is the biggest burrowing clam in the world.”
    I blush.
A clam?
“Um, so, cool. What kind of duck is this?”
    “A male mallard,” Uncle Sanjay says.
    I’ve never seen a duck up close. The feathers on his head shimmer in green and gold. A ring of white encircles his neck like a string of pearls.
    “What’s wrong with him?” I whisper back.
    “We don’t know yet,” Uncle Sanjay says. “Perhaps a shattered wing—perhaps something worse.”
    The duck isn’t moving. I wonder if it’s going to die.
    “What should we do?” Duff whispers. “We could send him to the wildlife rehab center up in Freetown….”
    “Not sure he’d survive the drive,” Uncle Sanjay says grimly.
    Duff runs her fingers through her stiff, sprayed hair. “Ducks mate for life. He has a female waiting for him; you can be sure of that.”
    My insides melt. A mate. Maybe babies, too. Another animal hit by a car, and the bad guys got away. I’m beginning to hate cars.
    Santa scratches his head. “I found him near a big pond. Maybe his mate is still there waiting.”
    “Let’s see what we can see.” Uncle Sanjay opens the box. I clutch the seaglass in my pocket.
    Uncle Sanjay reaches into the box, but in a flurry of feathers, the duck takes off. Just like that, he spreads his wings and flies out the door and all the way down the hall.
    “Cool,” Hawk says.
    Stu whines. He’s probably thinking, Duck = food. But Duff’s holding his collar. “Oh, no you don’t. Ducks are not dinner for doggies.”
    The mallard lands at the end of the hall and waddles around, quacking.
    “Oh heck!” Santa says. “What do we do now?”
    “Quiet,” Uncle Sanjay says. “We don’t want him to try to fly and hit the window. He could