Eloa glanced at his sandwich. Olive loaf? He choked down the single bite he had taken from it. He grabbed his cup and quickly took a gulp, washing most of it down. Bits of it stuck to his teeth, though, and it was all he could do to keep from gagging as he forced his tongue to work them out and swallow them. He leaned back on the blanket and glanced up at the clouds.
“It sure is pretty today,” he announced.
“You don’t like your sandwich,” his mother said. It wasn’t a question.
“My sandwich is great. I’m just not feeling all that hungry today.”
“Are you giving me another moon story? I thought we already talked about that.”
Eloa sighed. “Actually, I was hoping we could go feed the ducks again today.” Would she buy that?
Mirena smiled at him. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” She reached over and tousled his hair.
“Does that mean yes?”
“Why not?”
As they walked along the river’s edge, Eloa tore up the rest of his sandwich and tossed it, one small piece at a time, into the murky water.
“It’s really sad,” his mother said, her eyes probing the river. She said this almost every time they took this path home. “This river used to be so beautiful.” Eloa had never seen the river before the pollution, but through his mother’s eyes he could imagine it a deep blue color, spots of white accenting it as it gurgled down its path.
“The ducks don’t seem to mind,” he said to her this time.
“The ducks don’t know any better. We do.”
“They’ll all be dead anyway.”
Mirena stopped and knelt down beside Eloa. She took both his hands in hers and stared into his eyes. “Don’t say that, Eloa. Life, however short, however desperate, is precious. All life. You’re right that nothing we can do can save these ducks. But that doesn’t give us the right to mistreat them while they’re here. They’re still precious while they’re here.”
Eloa looked out at the ducks once more. He regretted making them eat his olive loaf sandwich.