Look! Me writed more!
*****
Brothers and Sisters
Part 9: Ping!
by Kim McFarland
*****
That evening, the Fraggle Five plus their children and their children's guests gathered in Wembley and Gobo's room, which was just big enough to accommodate them all. Boober and Sage brought in a hot covered dish which leaked little wisps of delicious-smelling steam. They left it covered and went out again, to return a minute later, Boober carrying a wok full of ratatouille, and Sage with a basket of hot bread. They set the dishes down. Then Boober, seeing that he had everyone's undivided attention, whisked the cover off the first dish with a flourish. In it was hot, buttery baked radish, sliced into steak-sized discs speckled with a mixture of spices.
"Wow, that looks good enough to eat!" Wembley enthused.
"I certainly hope so," Boober replied. He put a ladle in the wok and a serving fork on the radish platter. That was the signal for everyone else to dig in, and they did. They were always hungry by dinnertime anyway, and Boober's presentation had whetted their appetites further.
Skeeter and Scooter took some ratatouille and bread. Scooter took a small portion of radish too. It did smell good. For a radish.
Sage and Boober served themselves last. Boober noticed how little radish the twins had taken, and chalked it up to their not having much taste for the vegetable. Poor Silly Creatures. Sage wasn't paying attention to their guests. She filled her plate quickly and sat next to Janken.
For a little while there was no conversation, just the sound of people devouring food. Scooter found the ratatouille good, in an exotic kind of way, and the bread moist and pleasant. The radish was tender and well herbed, but, when you got down to it, it was still radish. He was glad he had taken a small serving.
"Where'd you go today, Jan?" Sage asked when the edge was off her hunger.
"Scooter and I saw some of the neater caverns. He's never been in a cave before he came here, believe it or not."
And I couldn't come with you? Sage thought, but didn't say it.
Red said, "Gobo, you have something of mine. I'd like it back."
"Oh? What?" Gobo asked, looking up from his second helping of radish.
"That rock-climbing trophy!" She pointed at the shelf on the wall where it had been displayed for all to see for the last two years. Since it was opposite the entrance, every day for two years it had been the first thing Red saw when she entered the cave.
"Oh, that? Sure."
Gobo put down his plate, took down the trophy, and brought it over to Red. She held it over her head and crowed, "The champion!"
"I helped!" Poncle exclaimed, clapping.
"You sure did, kid," Red said. She say back down and rumpled Poncle's hair. Poncle giggled and swatted Red's hand away, then straightened the feathered headband that framed her face.
"Speaking of which, I've got to scout out a course," Skeeter mentioned.
"For what?" Janken asked.
"An obstacle race."
"Obstacle? Parkour?" Scooter said, turning to Skeeter.
"Yep."
"Oh boy."
"Want some help? I know all the tricky spots in the Rock," Red offered.
Skeeter said, "No, thanks. I can manage it myself."
"Ah, you want it to be a surprise? Fair enough. After all, Schist Cliff was new to you."
"Thanks. You're a sport." She said to Scooter, "Can I borrow your cell?"
"Huh? Okay," he said.
"Thanks. I'd better start now. Thanks, that was a great dinner," Skeeter said, getting up.
Boober said, "Don't leave. You'll miss dessert."
Skeeter thought, Radish cake, radish ice cream, or radish with radish frosting. I'll pass. But she kept a straight face as she said, "Thanks, but I'm full from dinner." Then she darted out.
Boober looked around at the others, then shrugged.
*
Skeeter went to the 'hidey-hole' behind Boober's cave where she, Scooter, and Janken had slept last night. Fraggle Rock was a regular rabbit warren, she thought. Fortunately years of hiking and other wilderness activities had sharpened her memory for landmarks. She'd been alert since she came down here, so she found her way back with no problem.
She opened Scooter's backpack and found his cell phone in a zippered inside pocket. She turned it on. It had plenty of charge. She found the photos and looked at the most recent one. Then she shut the phone down, put it in one of her jacket pockets, and went out again.
*
After the dessert, which was a creamy, utterly radish-free fruit salad, Red narrated the drama of The Climbing of Schist Cliff. The recitation quickly developed into a song. Scooter was amazed. Janken had told him that Fraggles could and frequently did compose songs on the fly, but he had thought he was exaggerating. He found it hard to believe that she was just making this up as she went along. Gobo backed her up on a guitar that looked like it was made from a large gourd, not minding how Red twitted him for being too intimidated, lazy, or downright cowardly to enter the race himself. She compared him to Skeeter, who at least had the guts to compete fair and square despite not having a chance. Scooter was glad that Skeeter had cut out already; he wasn't sure she'd have taken that in the spirit intended.
The song ended, and everyone was grinning about it. It was as if Red and Gobo had gotten all the residual tension out of their systems, Scooter thought. And at breakfast Mokey had made a song of Boober's grocery list as if it were as simple as writing it down. But then, he hadn't seen much writing while he was here. Maybe that's what they did instead of writing things down?
Poncle said, "I want a Silly Creature song."
Janken said to Scooter, "That's a good idea. Why don't you sing something?"
Scooter said, "Um, singing a capella really isn't my thing."
Wembley asked, "Who's Al Cappella?"
Scooter answered, "I mean, I'm not used to singing without music. I'm pretty sure you guys don't know any of the songs I do."
Janken nudged Scooter, and when he looked over, hummed a tune. Scooter recognized it. "That wouldn't make any sense without a guitar."
"All you need is a guitar? Wait right here." Janken jumped up and hurried out of the room. Less than a minute later he came back with a guitar, which he handed to Scooter.
Scooter looked at the instrument in surprise. It was made of wood, with decorative carving and dyes on the neck and body. And it only had three strings. Janken explained, "There are always instruments in the Great Hall so if someone gets inspired they can go to it. When a Fraggle really gets into something, like Gobo with his guitar and Wembley with his bongos, then they make a special instrument of their own."
So, this was common property, everybody's and nobody's? It looked too well-cared-for. He said to Janken, "It's been years since I even touched a guitar. Are you sure you want me to play that?"
"Yeah! It's great!" Janken swung his arm with comic enthusiasm.
Scooter rolled his eyes. "Oh, sheesh. Fine then." He hung the guitar around his shoulders on the strap and began testing the strings, trying to find the notes and chords he would need. After he did he practiced strumming them, getting his hand to remember them so he wouldn't have to think about them while singing. He told the other Fraggles, who were watching with great interest, "When I was a kid I took guitar lessons. Our guitars are different. For one thing, they have more strings, and the frets are in different places. So, bear with me. This won't be pretty."
"We understand. Everyone started somewhere," Mokey said encouragingly.
"Thanks. I remember the guitar I had. I even named it," Scooter said. He felt comfortable enough with the guitar, or as comfortable as he was going to get, so he started on the intro. He picked at the strings, playing a slightly awkward tune, and sang,
"The very day I purchased it I christened my guitar
As my monophonic symphony, six string orchestrar.
In my room I'd practice late. They'd leave me alone.
My mother said, 'You're nothing yet to make the folks write home.'"
Sage thought, no kidding. His playing was pretty bad. Well, he couldn't help it, she guessed. It took a little while to get used to a new instrument, and Janken had told her that Silly Creatures were not musically gifted. At least he could sing well.
Scooter continued,
"I'd play at all the talent nights. I'd finish, they'd applaud.
Some called it muffled laughter; I just figured they were awed.
So I went up for an encore but they screamed they'd had enough.
Well, maybe I just need a group to help me do my stuff."
His strumming became smoother, and he sang with more energy,
"And so I'd dream a bass will join me and fill the bottom in.
And maybe now some lead guitar so it would not sound so thin.
I need some drums to set the beat and help me keep in time.
And way back in the distance, some strings would sound so fine.
And we'd all play together like fine musicians should,
And it would sound like music, and the music would sound good.
But in real life I'm stuck with that same old formula,
Me and my monophonic symphony-"
He played what was supposed to be a dramatic downward arpeggio, but dissolved into a clumsy tumble of off-key notes.
"-Six String Orchestra."
He winced at the sound of his own playing, then went back to strumming chords. When he found his footing he glanced at Janken, then began the next verse.
"Oh, I write love songs for my favorite guy and sing 'em soft and slow.
But before I get to finish he says he has to go.
He's nice and says "Excuse me, I've got to find a bar,
I think I need refreshment 'fore I hear you play guitar."
Janken laughed, surprised. Scooter grinned back and sang,
"Oh, I sent a demo tape I made to the record companies.
Two came back address unknown, one came back C.O.D.
Of course I got warm letters all saying pleasant things.
Like suggesting I should find a trade where I would not have to sing.
"But still I'd dream a bass will join me and fill the bottom in."
Gobo began playing his guitar, surprising Scooter. He wasn't playing the bass part from the original song, but something else that fit just as well. He went on,
"And maybe now some lead guitar so it would not sound so thin.
I need some drums to set the beat and help me keep in time."
Wembley jumped in with a lively rhythm on his bongos. When Scooter glanced up at him, he smiled down encouragingly.
"And way back in the distance, some strings would sound so fine."
Mokey and Red didn't have string instruments, so they sang the background. Wow, Scooter thought, this was actually coming together!
"And we'd all play together like fine musicians should,
And it would sound like music, and the music would sound good.
But in real life I'm stuck with that same old formula,
Me and my monophonic symphony, Six String Orchestra."
He ended with another clumsy arpeggio, flinched in exaggerated embarrassment, and went back to strumming chords again.
"I've been taking guitar lessons, but my teacher just took leave.
It was something about a breakdown, or needing a reprieve.
But I know I found my future, so I will persevere
And hold onto my dream of making music to their ears!"
For the final chorus, the other Fraggles sang along, clapping the rhythm with their hands. Again Gobo, Wembley, Mokey, and Red came in on their cues.
"And so I'll dream a bass will join me and fill the bottom in.
And maybe now some lead guitar so it would not sound so thin.
I need some drums to set the beat and help me keep in time.
And way back in the distance, some strings would sound so fine.
He cried in mock desperation, "I need all the help I can get!" The Fraggles laughed and sang along with the final verse,
"And we'd all play together like fine musicians should,
And it would sound like music, and the music would sound good!
But in real life I'm stuck with that same old formula,
Me and my monophonic symphony, Six String Orchestra!"
The final arpeggio clanked painfully down, and then Scooter played the outro, the same chords he had been playing, but clumsier, as if he barely remembered them. When he reached the end he said sheepishly, "Eric Clapton, eat your heart out."
*
They spent the rest of the evening singing, and chatting, and generally hanging out as a family. Mokey recited a poem, and, as she had composed it that evening, it was not too long. When it got dark they returned to their various homes. Mokey and Wembley came to Boober's cave and helped wash the dinner dishes. It was an unspoken rule that someone else always did the dishes when Boober cooked. They chatted as they worked, and when the last dry dish was put away they left for home after various expressions of family affection in which Janken and Scooter were included.
Janken and Scooter were going back into the hidey-hole when Sage said, "Um, Scooter?"
That was the first time she had spoken to him. "Yeah?"
"I liked your song."
He smiled. "Thanks."
Janken nudged him. "See?"
"Jan?" Sage said hesitantly.
"Uh-huh?"
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor and said softly, "Nothing."
Boober was watching. She was trying, but Janken had no clue what was wrong. When Scooter and Janken went back to the hidey-hole Boober and Sage changed into their nightclothes. Sage got into bed. Boober took a jar down from the pantry and came over to her bed. "Sage. Want a cookie?"
She opened her eyes. He was standing there, offering an open cookie jar. She reached in and took out a potato cookie. Then she scooted over. "They taste better with you, Papa."
He got into the bed next to her and, sitting up, put an arm around her. She leaned against him, and they ate cookies together without talking.
*
As he changed into pajamas Janken said, "I knew you'd be fine with that song. They really liked it."
Scooter said wryly, "A song about not being able to play guitar. It's honest, at least."
"Oh, c'mon. You can play decently."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, there's the Robin Hood show. You played the lute pretty well."
Scooter stared at him. Then he laughed. "Jan, I wasn't playing the lute! Someone else was playing the music and I was faking. If you watched my hand you'd see that sometimes I forgot to strum."
Shocked, Janken said, "You're kidding!"
Scooter shook his head. "I never got the hang of playing any instrument. I can keep a rhythm with a pair of maracas, but that's about it. I'm surprised I was able to limp through Six String Orchestra."
And Janken had boxed him into it, he realized. He said, "I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"
"It's okay."
"I guess we're even for the jug band thing."
Poor Janken, he really was upset. Scooter said, "Jan, listen. It's okay. If I really didn't want to play it, I would have said no. So relax, all right? It was fun."
Janken nodded. He was quiet for a moment, then said, "It was the best thing you could have done to fit in with my family."
"They were friendly from the start, but they seemed a little warmer after I sang that. I didn't know if I was imagining it or not."
"Not. See—music changes things," Janken explained. "When people sing together, it's not 'you and me' or 'us and them'. It's just 'we.' Nobody can be strange or alien if they're singing with you. Music joins people. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah. I think so," Scooter replied.
*
It was dark and everyone was asleep when Skeeter returned to the hidey-hole. She could have used the light from the screen of Scooter's phone to find her way, but she honored Janken's request not to show off technology to the Fraggles. She took the phone out of her pocket and put it back in its compartment in Scooter's backpace. Scooter awoke and said, "Skeet. Where were you?"
"Just doing some scouting. It took a little longer than I expected. I'll need to borrow your phone again tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
"Thanks. Night."
"Good night."
She changed into the pajamas by touch, and got into bed. When she fell asleep she was smirking.
*****
Scooter and Skeeter are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. All Fraggles except Janken, Sage, and Poncle, are copyright © The Jim Henson Company, LLC. Six String Orchestra is copyright © Harry Chapin. All copyrighted characters and properties are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken, Sage, and Poncle Fraggle and the overall story are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.
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