Butter
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| The Grubb Hovel was cold and damp. Greeva, the matron of this family, stood in the kitchen where she spent most of her time endlessly toiling away preparing food for her family. Her delicious confections were known far and wide and were the pride of the Grubb Clan. She had 143 children, a relatively average sized family for a goblin of her standing. A small dark-skinned youngling stood down by her apron strings, watching in amazement. | The Grubb Hovel was cold and damp. Greeva, the matron of this family, stood in the kitchen where she spent most of her time endlessly toiling away preparing food for her family. Her delicious confections were known far and wide and were the pride of the Grubb Clan. She had 143 children, a relatively average sized family for a goblin of her standing. A small dark-skinned youngling stood down by her apron strings, watching in amazement. | ||
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| Butter awoke with a start. “Bread ….. Bread wake up…. Where's Mom, I mean… our Matron?” Butter had not referred to his mother as “Mom” since he was a youngling, but he was troubled as a result of the nightmare he just had. “Where is Greeva,” he asked again shaking his sleeping brother. | Butter awoke with a start. “Bread ….. Bread wake up…. Where's Mom, I mean… our Matron?” Butter had not referred to his mother as “Mom” since he was a youngling, but he was troubled as a result of the nightmare he just had. “Where is Greeva,” he asked again shaking his sleeping brother. | ||
Revision as of 13:46, 14 May 2008
<Dawning>
The Grubb Hovel was cold and damp. Greeva, the matron of this family, stood in the kitchen where she spent most of her time endlessly toiling away preparing food for her family. Her delicious confections were known far and wide and were the pride of the Grubb Clan. She had 143 children, a relatively average sized family for a goblin of her standing. A small dark-skinned youngling stood down by her apron strings, watching in amazement.
Boom-ka-chunk!, a plume of black smoke spewed upwards out of the archaic stove, "Flarg-ratten!!" Greeva exclaimed as the stove went dead. She turned a few dials, paused a moment, then gave it a swift kick. The stove coughed out another plume of black smoke as it cranked back on, returning to it's normal squealing and popping noises. "See, little one? You just have to make it work," she said to the small observer. "Now, our clan has traditions that need to be maintained so here is a lesson.... whenever we fry something first we add butter to the pan." Greeva scooped a generous amount of the creamy substance and slapped it into the pan, turning to her curious child she asked, "Now what is the first thing we need to make fried food?"
"Butter!!" the little one exclaimed with a smile.
"Very good!! I can't believe you are talking already, one so young," Greeva paused. She knew her little Butter was different from the rest of her spawn. He seemed to show an understanding that she herself had only managed to attain in her elder years. Greeva recalled how some of her clan had treated those that were seen as "different" in the past, and she felt a twinge of fear about the future of her child's life. "OK that's enough for today, get ready for bed," said Greeva, masking her fears. Little Butter scampered out of the room.
The next morning Greeva came into the kitchen to find Butter already there, smiling wildly. The smile was one of mischief and delight.... like someone with a secret to tell..... Greeva turned on the stove and heard the power hum on. It sounded clean, the pipes unobstructed, leaving no remnant of it's usual labored noises. She could not recall the last time it appeared to be in such working condition. She looked down at Butter who had not taken his eyes off his beloved mother.
"Did you do this little one?" she inquired. Butter nodded, then jumped up and down a few times unable to contain his delight.
"Over night.... while Mommy slept.... me..... Butter fixed, Butter made it work, Butter fixed for Mommy!!"
The feelings of worry returned and she spoke. "Well I am very proud of you..... Go wake up your bothers..."
Butter shined with pride and stood up very straight, puffing out his chest, in a fashion very different from the normal slumping posture of the goblin race. Smiling one last time up to his mother, Butter turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Shortly after, the whole Grubb Clan was slurping and crunching away on their breakfast. Butter sat quietly eating next to Bread the brother with whom he was the closest in age. Butter could hardly contain the excitement, knowing that his mother would, no doubt, tell the whole family what he had done, and that he was special. He sat and ate, and waited. His mother never said a word. Butter watched her eat, her eyes darting off in a different direction whenever he looked up to try to catch her gaze. She ate in silence and left in silence, not saying a word about Butter's deed.
"I fought you sed Mommy was gonna say sumfin' bout you?" said Bread, spraying crumbs from his overstuffed mouth. Butter did not respond. He just took his plate up to the dish bin and left.
<solidarity>
Butter awoke with a start. “Bread ….. Bread wake up…. Where's Mom, I mean… our Matron?” Butter had not referred to his mother as “Mom” since he was a youngling, but he was troubled as a result of the nightmare he just had. “Where is Greeva,” he asked again shaking his sleeping brother.
“She's prolly in the kitchen Bud,” Bread said using the affectionate nickname he had used during their youngling-years
Butter leapt to his feet. Powerfully motivated by fear, he ran to the kitchen of the Grubb Hovel. As he burst through the entryway, Butter shouted “Mom!?! .. um, I mean Matron!?!
“What is it?” Greeva said standing near the stove as she had every morning for the past 16 years Butter could remember. “Why all the panic?” Upon seeing his mother Butter relaxed. In a veiled attempt to recover his composure, Butter sat down in a chair at the table near the west wall.
“Oh, it's nothing, I just had a bad dream,” said Butter.
“You've been having nightmares like that every night for the past six months, is there anything you want to talk about?”
“Not really, I'm sorry I startled you…. It's just-“ Greeva stopped what she was doing, walked over to the table and sat down.
“You know you can tell me anything right?”
Butter let out a deep breath, his muscles relaxed, cascading from shoulder to foot in a way that only his mother's kindness could induce.
“Even thought it was just a dream, it seemed so real that when I woke up, I wasn't sure I was dreaming.”
“What happened in the dream?” Greeva asked concerned.
“Well, um… I lost you. I mean you left, …. but not because…. Well it ….. I just don't know what I'd do without you,” Butter finally said.
“Don't worry little one, I'm not going anywhere,” Greeva said with an adoring smile.
During Butter's adolescence, he had hated it when his mother called him “little one” but somehow, in this moment, it was exactly what he needed to hear.
Butter began to eat as Bread, clearly groggy, entered the kitchen. “I don't know how many more times you can wake me up like that Bud before I start to get irritated.”
“Sorry, I …… I just thought ….. well I was wrong, sorry,” Butter said staring down at his plate so as to avoid eye contact.
“I know, I know, you thought The Matron was in danger. You did what any good goblin, worth his weight would do,” Bread said as he sat down across the table from his brother. “Don't worry about it.”
Both of them ate in silence. Soon they could hear the rest of the clan begin to stir. “I'm done,” said Butter unnerved. “I think I'm going to go down to the warrens and see if I can scrap together some parts. That stove is gonna die any day now.” Butter took his dish to the bin and started to walk out.
“I'll go with you, I'm finished too,” Bread said with half of his plate still covered.
“Well look who got to eat first,” a voice said from outside the room.
“Well, they ‘'are The Matron's favorites.” Said another mockingly.
“You are all my favorites,” said Greeva as the chow line formed.
Greeva's voice started to fade as Bread and Butter made their way down the main corridor, through the arch, and out the south gate to the Warrens. This place used to be were the soldier hordes bunked in ages gone by, but now it simply served as a storage area for all things Grubb Clan.
“Do you really think Mom has favorites?” Braid said as they walked. Butter stopped dead. Quickly turning to his brother, Butter grabbed Bread by the collar.
“We are not The Matrons favorites!” said Butter. “The Matron does not have favorites. Get all notions out of that thick head of your's, that we are in any way special. We were borne into a family of 143!! Do you really think anything is unique about us that none of the others share? Stop acting like a baby,” Butter said as he turned and continued walking.
Bread stopped. “Well I know I'm not her favorite, but that's not what I was asking,”
Butter felt a stab of pain understanding what Bread meant.
“Look, The Matron has a whole clan to deal with, we just have each other,” Butter said half-joking.
“Well you're right there, we only have each other.”
The two continued down until they reached the Warrens. Butter walked over to a pile of junk. Seeing the distress in his brother's eye he asked: “what do you think of these? I mean I know they're not top-of-the-line but-“
“They will do fine,” Bread said focusing on the task at hand. “We just need to make sure the coupling is properly modified to allow-“
“-To allow none of the pressure to escape. Don't forget that I was the one who taught you that,” Butter said giving an affectionate nudge to his brother. “Why don't you start striping the molding of those pipes while I get to work on-“
“Well, well, well, if it isn't ‘Butt-Hair' and his little sidekick,” said Grain walking into the room with his entourage of like-minded followers. “Looks like our little machine expert is gonna get on The Matrons good side by fixing the stove….. Again.” Butter kept his eyes on what he was doing to not give Grain the satisfaction of irritating him. “what's wrong? No Matron here to defend you?” Grain said with a smirk.
“He doesn't need Mother to defend him,” Bread shouted in defiance.
“Oh, I wasn't aware ‘Mother' was a resident in our hovel, all I know of is The Matron”
“Bread, I need your help with this,” Butter said.
“What? You need help?, I thought the mighty Butter needed no goblin's help,” Grain said looking across the faces of his willing followers. “I thought the mighty Butter was to be the salvation of all.”
“Doesn't look all that special to me,” said one of the assembled.
“Looks like a momma's goblin to me,” said another.
“The Matron must be going senile if she thinks this one is special,” said a third
“Don't you dare say that or I'll-” said Bread jumping to his feet.
“Or you'll what?” said Grain interrupting. “Looks like you are out numbered here. In fact I could do anything right now and you couldn't stop me. No Matron to protect you down here.”
“Forget him,” said Butter. “He has issues,” Bread and Butter both laughed.
Grain, clearly frustrated, reeled back to take a swing at Bread. Butter instantly stood from his crouching position, catching Grain's fist mid-swing.
Slowly, calmly, Butter looked Grain right in the eyes and said: “look, any family that lives without plumbing is bound to accumulate some shit, in this case it just happened to take the form of a piss-ant, and a crew of fuck-ups. I don't take it personally.”
With that the rest of Grain's crew attacked. Butter pushed Bread aside just in time to catch the brunt of the assault.
“Who's the fuck-up now” a voice called as Butter and Bread were left alone in the Warrens, Butter bleeding from the nose and mouth as his brother attempted to tend to his wounds.
