Fraggle Fic: A Wandering Heart

[Slackbot]

I'm a big ol' MST3K fan, but the critter the Minstrels run into isn't a reference. However, if you want to take it as such and consider me clever, Feel free!

I've been trying to find reference material for the Minstrels, as I'd love to draw the jam. Especially Cantus playing the bongos. I can see him rockin' out on those things. Hey, he's off the clock and doesn't need to act all mysterious and wise, time to get down with his Fraggly self!

I'm glad that the way I have been writing the characters has been coming across well, to some at least. My main intention, beside simply telling a story, is just to show some things in a realistic light. The actions and characters may be fantastic (as in, based on fantasy) but the underlying emotions are always real.

 

[The Count]

Heh, no, I meant my choice of words "cavé dwellers" as the reference. The accent in pronounciation comes from the beginning when the guys are riffing on the credits. The other quote I famously remember is when they see the name Miles O'Keiffe and ask...
Tom: How many O'Keiffes are in this movie?
Joel: Miles O'Keiffe.

 

[The Count]

*Bump. Update please?

 

[Slackbot]

My first official bump. I'm honored!

More to come soonish. Here's the beginning of the next chapter. Warning: first draft, so the writing is, er, rough.

****

The next morning the Minstrels and their follower packed up their camp, took out their instruments, and continued their trek through the limestone tunnels of Fraggle Rock. At least, Janken assumed it was Fraggle Rock; he had seen no sign that it wasn't. He did not ask; he did not want to pester the Minstrels with trivial questions.

Janken heard the sounds of activity before they saw their next destination. Many voices, blending into a soft hum of sound; occasional shouts; creaking. It was not at all like the sound of Fraggle Rock. Well, his colony at least.

The tunnel twisted, and the party emerged into a medium-sized gallery. At first Janken wondered where the Fraggles were. Then he realized that what he took to be brown boulders at first sight were people. Dozens of beetle-like creatures of various shades of brown and gray, moving back and forth across the gallery. Not creatures, he realized with some embarrassment when he realized that many of them were carrying things or moving carts: they were people.

 

[bazingababe24]

Hmmm. Balsam the Minstrel's people?

 

[Slackbot]

Could very well be.

 

[Slackbot]

Posting in Verdana 'cause I find it easier to read onscreen than Times New Roman...

*****

A Wandering Heart​

Part 7: A Different Drummer​

by Kim McFarland​

*****

The next morning the Minstrels and their follower packed up their camp, took out their instruments, and continued their trek through the limestone tunnels of Fraggle Rock. At least, Janken assumed it was still Fraggle Rock; he had seen no sign that they had left it. He did not ask; he didn't want to pester the Minstrels with trivial questions.

Janken heard the sounds of activity before he saw their next destination. Many voices, blending into a hum; occasional shouts; creaking. It was not at all like the sound of Fraggle Rock. Well, his colony at least.

The tunnel twisted, and the party emerged into a medium-sized gallery. At first Janken wondered where the Fraggles were. Then he realized that what he had taken at first sight to be brown boulders were alive. Dozens of beetle-like creatures of various shades of brown and gray, all moving back and forth across the gallery. Not creatures, he realized with some embarrassment when he saw that many of them were carrying things or moving carts; they were people. People who looked just like Balsam.

Several of the beetle-like beings broke away from the formation. "Welcome back, Balsam!"

"Thanks. It's good to be back."

"We're still moving. We'll be ready this evening."

"So will we," Balsam replied as he went off with them.

At first it seemed weird to Janken that they were treating Balsam as the leader of the Minstrels instead of Cantus. He glanced at Cantus, who was smiling calmly, unperturbed. Janken decided that, since these were Balsam's people, Balsam must speak for them here.

The minstrels found a flat spot away from the bustle and set their packs down. Cantus told Janken, "We come here when, every other year, they move their colony."

"They move every other year?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Ask them."

Janken looked at Cantus, who was gazing into the distance. Then he nodded and walked over to the throng.

As he approached he could see that there were two lines of activity, both going between openings on opposite sides of the gallery. The line closer to him was going from the left to the right, and was empty-handed. On the other side, people were carrying small objects by hand and using carts and other devices to move larger things. They were taking things from one side of the gallery—mentally he named it the Great Hall—to the other.

A smaller being that was lighter brown and less leathery than most asked Janken, "Are you a new Minstrel?"

"No," he answered. "I'm just following them now."

"Where did you come from?"

Other small beetle people were coming over to him. Children, of course. They must be as curious about him as he was about them. He said, "I came from another Fraggle colony, about a day's walk away."

"What's a Fraggle?" another one asked.

Janken could not tell them apart by appearance; they all looked the same to him, but their voices were different. He could not distinguish their genders. He answered, "I'm a Fraggle. So are Cantus and Brio."

"Who are Cantus and Brio?" that one asked.

How could they not know who Cantus was? But then, probably many Fraggles didn't know the names of all of the minstrels, particularly the ones they didn't even know the species of. Janken pointed over at the Minstrels and said, "The tall, orange one is Cantus, and the green one with glasses is Brio."

"Oh."

That probably didn't mean a lot to them, Janken thought. They were kids, after all. He asked, "What do you call yourselves?"

The oldest-looking one said, "I'm Sfufth." It pointed to several others in turn. "She's Fyunch. He's Twing. And that's Kinta and Momota and Eddie."

"I'm Janken. I meant, what do your people call themselves? Like, I'm a Fraggle."

"Oh. We're Thrumb."

"Thanks, Sfufth. Would you tell me why you move every other year?"

All of the children looked startled. Some laughed. One, Janken thought it was Eddie, said, "You don't know?"

"I've never been here before," he said.

Twing took him by the wrist and brought him over to the opening in the right side of the gallery. Over the heads of the busy beetle-like people he saw a large construction. It looked like a Doozer construction, he thought, but made of stone. Then he realized that it was carved into the living rock, and furthermore it was old. Flowstone formations had blurred and softened some of the surfaces. Twing said, "The walls are all rock, so we're moving out of there."

"I see," Janken replied.

The small being led him to the other entrance. The cave on the other side was just as big, and the far wall was covered in, as far as Janken could tell, an identical pattern, or as close as the rock formations permitted. "See?"

"I'm sorry, I don't, Janken said.

The other children giggled. Twing said, "The lichen! It's all gone from the other cave, so we move to where it's growing."

The whole colony migrated because of lichen? That made no sense. But there had to be a good reason for it, otherwise they wouldn't go to all the effort. "The lichen are important?"

"Yeah! We eat it."

One of the adult-sized creatures, who was just coming out of the cave empty-handed, told Janken, "We need the lichen. Without it, we get sick. We don't eat much of it, but still, after two years it's all but gone, so we move to the other side and let it regrow."

"Oh, I understand now," Janken said. "Thanks. Um, can I help?"

Though the being's face did not move, it chuckled and said, "You're already helping by keeping the children out from underfoot."

 

[Slackbot]

Two chapters in one day? Ain't you lucky? Well, OK, not really; this new board won't let me post 2,061 words in one go.

****

Janken spent the rest of the evening answering the children's questions and letting them tell him about themselves. They were as chattery as Fraggle kids, and after an hour he had forgotten that they were members of a different species.

They were still going strong when a loud drumbeat thrummed through the cave. All the children looked over at the same time. Most of them got up and ran toward the cave they were moving into. In the past few hours the Thrumb had transformed it from a hivelike cavern into a home. Hangings in shades of red and yellow covered many of the holes in the wall; the images on the hangings must identify the occupants, Janken guessed. He noticed as he looked around that the cave walls were covered with fuzzy green lichen. The other cave, he remembered, had been bare and gray.

Janken watched as the Minstrels assembled by a drum made of a hollowed-out, intricately carved section of a huge log, over which a painted skin had been tightly stretched. One of the Thrumb—Janken guessed that it was Balsam, as he was not with the other minstrels—took up a pair of sticks with padded, weighted ends and began beating on the drum. The sounds boomed through the air and thrummed through the body of every being there.

The other beetle-like people began beating on smaller drums, clapping their hands, or banging sticks together, adding layers of percussion over the big drum, which Balsam was playing softer now. The beat grew more complex as everyone joined in. Then, on what cue Janken could not tell, the Minstrels began playing.

Some of the children had gravitated to Janken. Sfufth—Janken could recognize it by voice, though he could not tell them apart except by size—said, "Clap too! Like this!"

He watched the child. It was clapping in a simple pattern: two quick claps, pause, one hard clap, pause, repeat. What the heck, he thought, and matched that rhythm. The celebration might not have the same meaning to him, but fun is fun. That music was alien and unpredictable, but it was starting to make a kind of sense to him. It fascinated him, drawing him in.

**

The music ended on a cue that Janken could not identify, and some of the Thrumb brought out long, planklike platforms bearing food. They set them on short poles protruding from the walls of the cavern, and the people began taking pieces of it. Janken could smell some of the food...and, he realized queasily, it included meat. The children dashed away from Janken, then came back with what looked like sandwiches, if sandwiches were made by rolling bread around the filling. Twing said to him, "You can have some too. Come on, it's good."

"It smells good," Janken said, "But I can only eat plants."

A small child whose name Janken had not heard asked, "You can't eat bread?" in a distressed tone of voice.

Janken smiled. "Bread's made from plants, so it's okay. It's meat I can't eat."

"Why?"

"I'm a Fraggle. We only eat plants."

Sfufth told him, "Some of it's just plants. I'll show you which."

Still munching on its rolled sandwich, the child led Janken to one of the sideboards and pointed out various things that it judged safe. The choice widened when Janken confirmed that he could also eat cheese. Sfufth showed him how to roll a piece of flat, thin bread into a cone and put food inside, and Janken filled it with thin-sliced vegetables and fruit. Like a salad sandwich, he thought. When he returned to the group the children looked oddly at his dinner. "Is that kind of stuff all you can eat?" Twing asked in a pitying tone.

"Yes, but I like it," Janken replied, amused. The younger children looked skeptical.

**

The children talked with Janken, more enthralled with having an alien in their midst than in what he told them, until their parents came and retrieved them. Then he went back to the Minstrels' camp. All were already in their sleeping bags except for Balsam, who wasn't there. Maybe he was sleeping at home tonight.

Cantus opened his eyes and asked him, "What have you learned?"

"They move because they need the lichen that grows on the cave walls, and it runs out after a couple of years."

"And?"

"Um, I don't know."

Cantus sat up and looked straight at Janken. The effect was disconcerting; he was used to seeing Cantus gaze off into the distance when talking to him, as if it was more important to hear people than to see them. Being the focus of his full attention made Janken uncomfortable. "Is there nothing more to learn here?" he asked.

There could only be one answer to that. "No! I just didn't want to ask a bunch of dumb questions."

"Such as?"

Janken lowered his voice. "Why they celebrate moving across the cave. I mean, I see why they do that, it makes sense, but why make a party out of it? It looks like a big pain to me."

Cantus said, "This is one of their most important festivals. It is as central to their lives as the Festival of the Bells is to yours."

At first it sounded as if Cantus was going to continue, but that was all he said. Janken said, "I'm sorry, I believe you, there's a reason, I just don't know what it is."

"It is worth wondering about."

"Should I ask someone?"

"You may, but you would not understand the answer, not yet. In time you will, if you listen."

With that, Cantus lay back down again, leaving Janken frustrated. He wouldn't understood if he asked, but he should listen? Listen to what, then? Was Cantus playing a trick on him? He glanced at Cantus, and answered himself: No, he wouldn't do that. He was kind and wise, not manipulative. He was known for being cryptic, frustratingly so, but what he said always made sense on retrospect. He was laying out a puzzle for Janken because he had a lesson to teach him. All right, he said to himself as he got into his sleeping bag. He'd figure it out.

*****

Fraggle Rock and all characters except Janken and Reed are copyright © The Jim Henson Company. All copyrighted properties are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken, the various Thrumb children, and the overall story are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.

 

[The Count]

Thank you for the new chapter, even if it had to be broken up. Great fun learning about the Thrumbs. Hopefully more gets posted soon.

 

[Slackbot]

Thanks. The names are all references to books by one of my two fave authors, except for two, who are folklore characters. I doubt anyone who doesn't have a library (read: lots of bookshelves piled two-deep with paperbacks) like mine would notice 'em, though.

Next chapter in progress. It'll take place in another heretofore-unvisited colony. And we'll meet a certain green chick.