Fraggle Rock fic: Commonplace Miracles

[Slackbot]

On my way to my daily workout. Just got enough time to copy & paste the next bit of this story. Real reply when I get back!

*****


Boober's eyes flickered open. Everyone else was on the other side of the room. He must have been put here after he fainted, he thought. He slowly got to his feet. Nothing hurt. He couldn't have fallen hard, then.

How long had he been unconscious? Judging from the noise on the other side of the room, a few hours at least. Poor Mokey, he thought. And he realized he didn't feel terror, only sympathy.

He went back over. Mokey was bearing down, but nothing was happening yet. Red was on one side and Wembley the other, each holding one of her hands. Gobo was still missing. Weft was at the end of the bed, saying in even tones, "Keep trying... rest and breathe."

Mokey's eyes opened. She looked bewildered. Then she saw him and said, "Oh, Boober, are you all right?"

The others looked over at him, surprised. Red said, "Why don't you go look for Gobo?"

"I'm all right now. I want to help," he told them.

Red stared at him. He sounded so calm. He couldn't be faking it; he was never any good at pretending he wasn't scared. What had happened?

Boober said to Weft, "I want to know what to do. I may have to handle this kind of thing myself sometime."

"That's a wonderful idea! Please show him, Weft," Mokey said.

Weft gave him a long, appraising look. Then she said, "You will have to do what I say and not get in the way."

Boober nodded once. "I will."

"Very well, then. Watch over my shoulder. And if you faint again, fall over backward."

**

Doc had spent the better part of the afternoon demonstrating to Gobo all the intriguing things you could do with a mirror. You could see things that were somewhere else. You could make light turn and bend, and go places it wouldn't go otherwise. You could even see many copies of yourself! Doc's mirrors didn't talk to you, unlike the one that Red claimed to have seen, but this was even more mysterious.

Holding the mirror carefully, Gobo asked, "Will this reflect the moon too?"

"Of course it will. It will reflect anything you can see."

That's great! I've got to go home now. Thanks again!"

"You're welcome. I'll see you later!"

Doc watched the Fraggle scamper back through the hole in the wall. "Imagine not knowing what a mirror is. It must be such a joy to discover the world. Makes me wish I was young again. How about you, Sprocket?"

No answer. Doc looked over. The dog was asleep, and had been since Doc had launched into his lecture.

**

Gobo laid the mirror carefully against the brick wall in the room with the pipes where the original opening to Doc's workshop used to be. In the minutes it had taken him to carry it this far he had come up with the perfect way to greet the moon. The first thing he had to do was build a frame.

He gathered long, stiff branches and some lengths of vine. He laid them on the floor in the shape he wanted to make, trimmed the branches so they would match, and then tied them together. A few more vines fastened the mirror to the frame. With more branches and vines he made a brace for the back. Now he would be able to set it at an angle, and it would stay in place without him holding it.

He had spent hours on this. Building constructions like this was Doozer work, but, Gobo told himself, a properly motivated Fraggle could do anything a Doozer could. It would be more than worth it when he showed everyone the Gorg Moon alongside the Fraggle Moon!

He spent another hour testing it, setting it at various angles so he could see up to the ceiling and around corners. When he was satisfied that it could not be improved upon he carefully folded it together and began lugging it the rest of the way back to the Rock.

**

Red had been keeping an eye on Boober, expecting him to faint again when things finally started happening in earnest. However, he was calm and businesslike now. It was as if he had become a completely different Fraggle. Which, come to think of it, he had been known to do. But he was being perfectly serious, paying close attention and following Weft's directions with no hint of either squeamishness or frivolity. Still, she kept an eye on him.

Mokey was barely aware of Boober's presence at the moment. She had stopped trying to savor this rare, transcendant experience so she could celebrate it in poetry, and was simply trying to get through it alive. She barely heard Red and Wembley's voices or felt them holding her hands. Her world had narrowed down to the ball of pain and pressure within herself, and Weft's voice telling her what to do.

After what seemed like forever the pain had built to an unbearable pitch. Mokey heard herself crying out; she did not remember starting. Weft urged her to keep pushing, and she did, squeezing Red and Wembley's hands as hard as she could. It went on and on without relief. Then, when she felt that she could stand it no longer the pain lessened abruptly. Wembley exclaimed, "Mokey! Look!"

She opened her eyes. Weft was holding a tiny, squirming Fraggle in her hands. She said to Mokey, "Well done. You have a boy!"

"Oh..." Mokey breathed, wide-eyed and dazed.

The midwife held the baby upside-down by its legs, supporting his head with one hand, and told Boober, "Why don't you tickle his feet?"

It was a tradition as old as Fragglekind; a Fraggle's life should begin with laughter. Lightly he stroked the soles of its feet, which were only as long as his smallest finger. The boy struggled, coughed, then giggled.

"Let me see him," Mokey said, holding her hands out.

Gently Weft set the child on his front on Mokey's chest. Mokey, Red, and Wembley were all enthralled by the small bundle of damp purple fur. Mokey covered him with her hands to keep him warm. Blind because his eyes were closed—they would not open until he was several weeks old—he pressed his face into her fur, breathing in her scent. Wembley touched a palm; the tiny hand curled around his finger. He could feel the gentle grip all the way to his heart.

Weft said to Boober, "You can go look at the baby."

Boober replied, "We're not finished here."

"True. The rest is easier, at least, if somewhat less beautiful. But it is important."

He nodded. He knew. Even this late, care still had to be taken to protect the mother's health.

Weft told Mokey, "Turn him over, please." Mokey carefully laid him on his back, and held him steady as his limbs wiggled in the air. Weft put two fingers together with the cord between them and drew them toward the child. Then she told Boober, "There's some white string and a small knife in the wooden box on the shelf behind me."

Boober nodded and got the box. She took a length of string and tied the cord off just above the baby's abdomen. She took the knife, then paused. Boober had hung on this far, watching and listening as attentively as any apprentice, but he had not actually done anything. She said, "Do you want to cut it?"

He accepted the knife. The blade was sharp on only one side. She told him, "Cut a finger's width above the string. You won't hurt the baby, he can't feel it."

Boober nodded and swallowed hard. Very carefully, holding the knife so the blade was turned upward, away from the baby, he cut the cord. It was a sharp knife, and the cut was clean and dry. The boy did not notice. Boober handed the knife back. Weft returned it to the box, then said, "In the hall behind the doorway there's a short tunnel. At the mouth of that there's a bucket. Please get that."

**

Before too long the process was complete. After all Mokey had been through, the last stage was not difficult at all for her. After checking her and her son over one final time, Weft pronounced them both strong and healthy.

Boober asked Weft, "What do we do with that?" He nodded toward the bucket without looking at what was within.

"A little further back in the tunnel where that was there's a pit covered by a lid," she answered.

"I'll take it," Boober said.

He carried the bucket into the tunnel and moved the circular lid, revealing a deep hole in the rock. It was just wide enough for a small Fraggle to fall into, hence the covering. A rivulet of water ran along one wall and down into the hole. Pits like this were not unusual in the Fraggles' limestone caves. This one was obviously used as an oubliette. He emptied the bucket, then set it under the water to rinse it.

It was over. Mokey had had the baby, and she had not died. The disaster he had feared had not come to pass. He had made it through without losing control. He had been afraid, and at points he had felt squeamish... but those feelings were distant, as if they belonged to somebody else.

He knew what that meant.

He could stay like this, he thought. He could keep this newfound calm. Without his fear to smother him, he could cope with this the next time it happened, and he knew it would. Every spring a Fraggle or two was born. It was something "Doctor Boober" ought to be able to handle. Traditionally midwifery was women's work, but there was only one midwife in the Rock, and she did not have Boober's range of medical skills. Fraggles were not known for keeping traditions if they decided they did not make sense.

Boober lowered himself to his knees. He knew that he could not keep suppressing his fear. It was a part of him. It had been integral to his personality for so long, its absence left him feeling slightly empty, as if he was not all there. This composure was as artificial as the euphoria induced by Wembley's Whoopie Water, as dishonest as acting morose when what he really wanted to do was sing and play with his friends. Plus, it would be a cruel trick to play on Sidebottom. He doubted that his alter ego would be able to carry the burden alone for long.

Boober put his hands on the floor so he was looking into the pit. He said softly, "It's over. Come back, Sidebottom."

His alter ego merged back into him, bringing with him all the fear and panic he had suppressed.

**

Red glanced up. She heard Boober coughing. He wasn't there; where had he gone? She'd been so focused on the baby, she hadn't noticed when he left. She said, "I'll be back in a minute," and followed the sounds.

She found Boober on his hands and knees at the oubliette. At first she was disappointed and angry; they'd just had their baby and he was being sick? But, she realized, he had held it together when it really counted. And he'd even helped, which meant that he got to see all the yucky stuff that she and Wembley, sitting at Mokey's sides, had been spared. When she thought about it that way, she couldn't be mad at him. Briefly she considered going over to comfort him, but decided that he needed to be alone right now.

Red came back. She answered Mokey and Wembley's inquiring looks by saying, "Boober's all right. He just needs a moment."

"Oh, clearing his head?" Wembley asked.

"Something like that," Red said under her voice.

Soon Boober returned. His hair and scarf were damp; he had washed his face and mouth before coming back. Red said, "Are you okay?"

"I am now," he answered.

"Come here, Boober," Mokey said, with a warm smile. Red scooted over to make room, and Boober sat by her.

The baby was dry by now. His skin was lavender, his fur and fluffy hair purple. He looked perfectly healthy, and Mokey was tired but intact and happy. Now that the crisis had passed, Boober's dread was fading like mist in the morning. And now that he knew where it came from and how to combat it—by learning how to prevent such tragedies from happening to anyone else—it would never come again.

 

[Puckrox]

I love the idea of Fraggles having the tradition of tickling newborn's feet. I can definitely see that happening for them. And yay! Mokey had her baby! But Gobo missed it! Oh no! And when will we find out who the father is? (Not that we don't already know from your other fics, but I figure that'll be a big moment!)

More, more, more!

 

[Slackbot]

(I owe my sister thanks for the last part, BTW. I asked her to read the passage in which Mokey's Baby makes his grand entrance, and she gave me some very useful info about childbirth so I could make it a bit more realistic. She's had two children; I'm just "Aunt Kim.")

TogetherAgain: Wow, thank you for the detailed reply! I like to know whatis working with my stories. Ego-boo is also always welcome, heh heh.

One of the great things about fan fiction is that you can have different interpretations by different authors--pairings or alternatives thereto, eggs versus live birth--and enjoy each approach on its own merits. Some fandoms get all wound up over canon, and I'm pleased that the Muppet fandom embraces creativity rather than conservatism.

Heh, I often have trouble with titles. Most of my stories go through three to five titles before I settle on one. The original title for this one was "Catch the Moons," which was so blah I knew I had to change it. (I didn't do chapter titles for this one, but if I had, the chapter I just posted would have been titled "The World's Youngest Fraggle.")

I haven't really gotten into Red as a character, but this story made me get into her head and brought her to life for me. You'll be pleased to know that she and Mokey stay roommates. Red may ever change a diaper occasionally, when nobody else is looking.

What can I say, I like writing Boober. He's got depths, he has. I envision him as the one in the family that they go to when they feel unhappy. He's just about the only Fraggle who is at home with depression and will sympathize rather than trying to jolly you out of it. He knows the meaning of the word "catharsis." It's likely than Janken went home and cried on his shoulder after chapter 13 of "Masks."

Red does tend to exaggerate and let her imagination run away with her, making her seem to be a less-than-reliable witness. Remember how she leapt to conclusions about the theft of radish bars and the Fraggle Horn. And she did "confess" to lying about the Lily Beast. No matter that it was real; the fact that she told the others in the end that she had lied adds to that image. And Red is a bit of an attention hound, and so is Gobo, and when they get competitive, heh, they strike sparks. I think she brings out the cockiness in Gobo.

Puckrox: I don't know where I first heard about it, but somewhere there are people who, instead of striking a baby on the butt to make it cry and thus clear out its lungs, run a fingernail along the soles of the feet to make it laugh, and accomplish the same goal. Since Fraggles spend all their lives making joyful noises unto the Rock by singing, having their lives begin with a happy sound seemed a lot more appropriate.

It'll be years before they realize who Janken's papa is. Boober likely gets ruled out first, because the kid never develops his turtle-like profile. I like the idea of suspicions arising when his snout begins to take shape, and the proof comes when he and Wembley are goofing around and making faces at each other, and Janken does one of those weird facial contortions that, up until then, only Wembley could do. Wembley absolutely flips out, startling Janken, and within minutes the rest of the Five know about it.

 

[redBoobergurl]

Oh so beautiful, I love the tickling of the feet. Poor Gobo missing it though!

PS - glad you liked my fics too - but yes, I agree that there can be many different approaches to these types of things! And I very much like what you are doing here!

 

[Slackbot]

Here is the story's baloobius. Well, it's the end of this tale, anyway. Wocka wocka.

******

When Gobo arrived in the Great Hall, carefully dragging the mirror in its frame, he heard the piping of wooden flutes. The Ceremony of the Moon was already underway. Yikes, he hadn't known it was this late! It was still early at Doc's house, but time in Outer Space didn't always match the time in Fraggle Rock. Quickly he leaned the frame against a wall and joined in the song that opened the ceremony.

When that was over, Henchy Fraggle, dressed in ceremonial regalia, announced from the high rock that served as a podium, "The World's Oldest Fraggle will now open the monthly Festival of the Moon."

"Thank you for reminding me," The World's Oldest Fraggle said drily. He raised his staff; Henchy stepped back nervously. Satisfied that his point was made, The World's Oldest Fraggle said to the assembly, "As long as Fraggles have lived in the Rock we have celebrated the appearance of the most beautiful and magical thing in existence—"

"The Fraggle Moon!" Henchy interjected.

The World's Oldest Fraggle continued after the expected interruption, "In case any of you have forgotten. And each time one Fraggle is selected to celebrate the appearance of the moon in his or her special way. You may remember such hits as The Storyteller's dramatic recitation of The Tale of the Fraggle on the Moon, and the Doozers' pyramid fountain. Now, who is it this time?" He looked around.

"I am," Gobo called from the back.

The World's Oldest Fraggle looked around for the Fraggle who had spoken. As Gobo, dragging the frame, made his way toward the pond in which the moon would soon appear, Henchy said, "Gobo Fraggle, your myopia. He's coming to the pond now."

"I can see that," The World's Oldest Fraggle snapped, and bopped his aide on the side of the head with his staff. To Gobo he said, "All right, Gobo, how're you going to wow us?"

"I'm going to show you the Gorg Moon next to the Fraggle Moon!" Gobo declared.

There was a moment's pause. Then The World's Oldest Fraggle laughed. "How are you going to do that, catch it in a net?"

The other Fraggles began to laugh. Gobo raised his voice to cut them off. "No! I have a magical device here called a mirror. You can look in it and see the Gorg Moon down here even though it's up in the sky!"

"Oh, really? This I gotta see," The World's Oldest Fraggle said.

"You will, as soon as I set it up," Gobo replied. He began to sing in a strong, clear voice,

"Moon, moon, magic light,
Come and touch out lives tonight."​

As the other Fraggles joined the traditional song Gobo carefully lowered the frame over the pond. It was just barely long enough to reach from one end to the other right below the well.

"Soon, soon, deep and bright,
Sleep a sleep of peace tonight."​

He looked up. The Gorg Moon was halfway visible on one side. It was just in time to greet the Fraggle Moon with him! Gobo quickly set the brace up and raised the mirror at an angle. Fraggles continued singing as they watched him adjust it until he could stand by the pool and see right up the well.

"Come to us now, come to us,
Come to us now, come to us.
Shine on us now, shine on us,
Shine on us now, shine on us...now."​

The song trailed off reverently, and the Fraggles gazed into the pool. The Fraggle Moon, a bright spot within the rippling waters, appeared. One of the Fraggles on the other side of the pool, who had been looking into the water rather than watching Gobo set up his contraption, said, "The Fraggle Moon! It's here!"

"And so's the Gorg Moon," Gobo said proudly, gesturing at the mirror.

"Where? I don't see it," said The World's Oldest Fraggle. He looked around the cavern as if searching for it. "Nope, I don't see it anywhere."

Oops, Gobo thought. The way the mirror bounced light, you had to be in the right place to see up the well! He said, "Everyone, come stand where I am and look in the mirror and you'll see it."

There was some crowding at first, especially after the first Fraggles to see it exclaimed in awe and admiration. After a few minutes the Fraggles figured out to form a line and walk past it so everyone could get a look. Gobo stood beside the mirror, proud of himself for having given the moon what had to be the best welcome it had ever had.

The last Fraggle to look was The World's Oldest Fraggle. He stopped and stared, first looking at the Gorg Moon in the mirror, then at the Fraggle Moon in the pond. "Well, I'll be," he said softly.

Gobo stood beside him. Now that he had a chance to really look, Gobo could see that the Fraggle Moon and the Gorg moon looked like twins. When the water was still the Fraggle Moon floated quietly, as the Gorg Moon hovered serenely in the starry sky.

As they watched, a small cloud drifted across the face of the Gorg Moon. At the same moment, a shadow appeared on the face of the Fraggle Moon. Both dimmed as their light was blocked, then brightened again when the scrap of cloud passed.

Gobo gaped. He looked up the well, then down into the pond.

The World's Oldest Fraggle said quietly. "You have truly showed us something we've never seen before." He raised his voice. "And now, it's late, I'm tired, and I declare the ceremony at an end. Good night."

"The World's Oldest Fraggle—Ow!"

Some of the Fraggles dispersed. Others came up to the mirror for another look. Gobo looked around. He realized that he had not seen Wembley, Mokey, Red, or even Boober. Where were they? They knew he was Moon Greeter tonight!

Suddenly hurt and angry, he hurried to his room. Wembley's bed was empty, and Gobo did not notice the note on his own. Fine then, maybe he was with Red and Mokey. He turned to leave the cave, and ran into Wembley.

"Gobo! There you are! Where've you been?" Wembley exclaimed as he helped Gobo up.

Gobo snapped, "Where've I been? You of all people ought to remember that I was greeting the Fraggle Moon! And I did it, I brought the Gorg Moon down, in a manner of speaking. Where was everybody else?"

"You don't know? Didn't you see my note? Come on!" Wembley grabbed Gobo by the wrist and dragged him out of the room.

"Wembley! What are you doing?"

"Gobo, Mokey had the baby!"

Shocked, Gobo exclaimed, "She did? But it's supposed to be born four days from now!"

"Nobody told him that!"

He. Mokey had had a son while Gobo was playing with mirrors. Gobo shut up and followed Wembley.

**

When they arrived at Weft's home, Wembley announced, "I found Gobo!"

Red looked over, then said sarcastically, "Oh, the mighty hero finally honors us with a cameo appearance."

"Now, now, Red," Mokey said.

"It's all right," Gobo said, embarrassed. "I was in Outer Space all day. I got so wrapped up in my moon greeting, I didn't even think that the baby might come early. I don't blame any of you for being mad at me. I'm mad at me too."

"You had to follow your vision," Mokey replied. Smiling, she beckoned to him and said, "Come and see."

He went over to the bed. A small, purple Fraggle was resting on her front. Carefully he picked the baby up and held him to his chest. "Sorry I missed your birthday," he whispered.

Mokey said, "As long as your hands are warm, he's happy."

Gobo looked at the baby Fraggle for a few minutes, just watching him breathe. He said, "I'll never get so wrapped up in a plan that I forget what's really important." Looking up at the others, he said, "That's a promise."

"Sure, right," Red said skeptically.

Wembley said, "We haven't figured out who his sire is. You've got purple hair, but Boober's blue, and blue plus pink is light purple."

Neither of those were very convincing arguments, Gobo thought. Baby Fraggles might get their colors from their parents, or ancestors further back, or they might be different colors completely. He couldn't see any hint in the baby's face; infants were pretty generic-looking, especially in the weeks before their eyes opened. "I don't guess it really matters," Gobo said.

Wembley agreed, "Yeah. It'd be nice to know, but he's really all of ours."

Everyone nodded agreement. Gobo noticed something, and chuckled. Red said, "What?"

The purple, fluffy hair was partially covering the baby's closed eyes. Gobo said, "He looks just like Boober."

Boober said, "Two."

Gobo asked, "Two what?"

Mokey answered, "Red made the same joke about his eyes before you got here. Gobo, how was the Ceremony of the Moon?"

"I suppose Wembley told you about how we tried to catch the Gorg Moon?"

"Yep," Red answered.

"Well, I went into Outer Space and talked with Doc. Red, you gave me the idea. He showed me all about mirrors, and he even gave me one! I used it to show them the Gorg Moon right next to the Fraggle Moon."

Wembley exclaimed, "No kidding? You really did it!"

Mokey said, "Oh, I wish I'd seen that!"

Even Boober looked interested. Gobo shook his head. "It was just a reflection. But... when a cloud passed in front of the Gorg Moon, the Fraggle Moon got a cloud too."

Disturbed, Boober asked, "What does that mean?"

Unhappily Gobo said, "It looked like... the Fraggle Moon is only a reflection of the Gorg Moon in our pond."

The other Fraggles exchanged looks of shock. Gobo looked down at the baby again, and stroked the soft purple fur. It was so fine, he could barely feel it on his fingertips.

Mokey said, "I think that's wonderful!"

"What?" Gobo asked, startled.

"The Fraggles and the Gorgs share water and radishes, the very staves of life. Now we find we share the most beautiful thing in the world, the moon! One more thing binds us together," she said with a dreamy expression.

Boober commented, "Trust Mokey to turn a depressing realization into an epiphany."

**

It had been a bright and sunny day. Now it was a warm and quiet evening, and the sunset once again streaked the sky with vivid pastels.

Six Fraggles emerged from Fraggle Rock and entered the Gorgs' garden. It was several days after Mokey had had her baby. Weft had released her into Boober's care on the condition that he get her if anything went wrong. So far, nothing had. Mokey had recovered quickly, and the child, who they had named Janken, was strong and healthy.

Mokey treated herself carefully, not wanting to push her luck. She walked slowly, and leaned on one of the others when she felt tired or sore. Wembley was carrying Janken. Of the five, he was the most enthralled with the baby. They still had not figured out who had sired Janken. Wembley was the least likely candidate, they tacitly agreed, but he didn't care. He was in love with the tiny Fraggle.

Gobo looked around for Gorgs. He had not done that for thousands of days; the Gorgs and the Fraggles were no longer enemies. However, because he had tried to capture their moon there might be some hard feelings. He'd have to do something about that, likely by apologizing and admitting he was wrong. He was going to hate that, but he couldn't let his foolishness sow the seeds of enmity between the Fraggles and the Gorgs.

They went around the brick wall and to the Trash Heap. She was, once again, watching the sunset. Philo and Gunge spied the Fraggles. Gunge said, "Well, whaddaya know? I win!"

"Awwww," Philo said. "I almost won. Best two outta three?"

"No way!"

"What did you win?" Red asked.

Gunge said, "We was bettin' on how long you Fraggles were gonna hide out after you tried to take the moon."

"I figured you'd be smart and keep your noses down for at least a week," Philo told them.

"You knew about that?" Gobo asked, embarrassed.

"You and Junior were yellin' about it all night! We ain't deaf." Philo answered.

"Boys..." Marjorie said.

"Oh, yeah," Philo said

Philo and Gunge quickly chorused, "You are in the presence of the all-seeing, all-knowing, all-telling Trash Heap! Nyeah."

Now the Trash Heap looked down at the Fraggles. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Mokey said, "Madame Heap, we came to ask for your blessing on the newest member of our family."

She exclaimed, "Oh! You've had your baby? Where is it? Let me see."

Wembley stepped forward. She held out her hands; Wembley handed Janken to her. He didn't think twice about letting an animated pile of garbage handle their child; after all, besides being their oracle, she was a good friend.

She cooed at Janken, tickled him, and gently ruffled his fur. He giggled. Red, somehow not surprised, remarked to Wembley, "Wow, she's even sillier about him than you are!"

"You get like that too," Wembley answered with a smile.

"I do not! Much."

Marjorie said, "What a beautiful little boy! You should all be proud of yourselves. Here, take him from me now or I might never give him back."

Wembley took Janken back. Mokey asked, "Do you have any words of wisdom for him?"

The Trash Heap folded her hands together. "For him, I have nothing."

"Nothing at all?" Boober asked, taken aback. "Not even a blessing?"

"What does he need a blessing from me for? He's already blessed with everything he needs," she said with a gesture that encompassed the entire family.

"Thank you," Mokey said, very pleased. She had not expected that response, but, she felt, it was absolutely true. She, Red, Gobo, Wembley, and Boober all loved each other, and their children would never want for love.

"Now go on. Have some fun, and don't be such strangers to this old trash heap," Marjorie said.

Philo and Gunge heard their cue. "The trash heap has spoken." Looking at Janken, they finished, "Awww."

**

The Fraggles headed for the Gorgs' garden. It was the main source of their food, and as such had a sacred quality, Mokey thought. The others were skeptical, but on certain issues it was pointless to argue with her. Anyway, sacred or not, it was vital to their lives, thus it was only fitting that they bring Janken into the garden.

They found a flat spot between the rows of turnips and spread out a colorful patchwork blanket. Red picked a radish and brought it over. Gobo and Boober collected some peas, greens, and berries that tasted good raw, and they made a picnic while watching the sky.

When the colors faded and stars began to appear on the other side of the sky, Gobo took out his gourd guitar and, strumming softly, began singing,

"The sun blues the sky with its warm rays of light,
The clouds roam as far as we see.
The stars sparkle all through the silent night,
The moonlight was meant to be free."​

Junior Gorg, hearing the song, looked out the window of his castle. The other Fraggles joined Gobo and sang,

"The rain showers down upon all of the world,
The river flows out to the sea,
Roots rise through the earth and trees reach to the sky,
And all of it's meant to be free."​

As they sang Junior walked out, found the Fraggles in his garden, and crouched down. When they finished the verse he said, "Hi there. I haven't seen you in a couple of days. I was wondering where you were."

"We were kind of busy," Gobo said. Deciding to get it over with, he said, "I'm sorry about the moon. It belongs up there in the sky. Even if I could have thrown the net high enough to catch it, I shouldn't have tried."

"You twied to catch it in a net?" Junior asked.

"Yeah. Dumb idea, huh?" Gobo tried to laugh.

"Boy, I'll say. The moon's way too high for that. One time I got up on the castle woof and thwew wocks at it. I never could hit it."

Mokey asked, "You threw rocks at the moon? Why?"

Junior shrugged. "To see if I could hit it. But it was too high, so all I ended up hitting was myself. I thought you were going to use magic to pull it outta the sky and take it undergwound. It's too big to fit thwough that little hole in the wock."

"The moon's not that big," Gobo said.

"Oh, yes it is! Things look little when they're far away, and since the moon is so far away I can't hit it, it must be weally big."

Startled, Gobo said, "That actually makes sense." He thought, I can't believe it. I just learned something from Junior Gorg.

Junior said, "I thought you were playing another Fwaggle twick on me the way you always used to. You know, like when you made me think I was a Fwaggle or that you were Sir Hubwis. Why did you used to do things like that?"

Gobo hesitated. Wembley, feeling his friend could use some support, said, "Because you always tried to catch us or thump us whenever we came up here for food. You even broke Gobo's leg once. Why'd you do that?"

"I didn't wealize that you were people," Junior answered. "Sowwy about your leg."

"It's all right now," Gobo answered.

"How silly we all were," Mokey said. "We wasted so much time before making friends, didn't we?"

"Yeah," everyone said or nodded agreement.

Janken squirmed and made noises of dissatisfaction. Mokey knew that sound: he was hungry. She took him from Wembley. Junior noticed. "Is that a baby Fwaggle?"

"Yes," Mokey said with a hint of pride. "His name is Janken. He was born only three days ago."

The Gorg lay on his front on the ground so he could get a closer look. "Wow, he's as teeny-weeny as a lima bean!"

"Yes. But he's growing fast," Mokey told him.

He asked, "Which ones of you are his mommy and daddy?"

Mokey replied, "We are all his parents."

Surprised, Junior said, "Thwee daddies and two mommies?"

"What's wrong with that?" Red asked challengingly.

"Well, if I had thwee daddies and two mommies, I'd never finish all the chores they'd give me!"

All of the Fraggles laughed. Wembley said, "Don't worry, we won't give him that many chores."

"Oh, good." Junior sat up again. "What was that song you were singing?"

"It doesn't have a title," Gobo said. "Want to hear the rest of it?"

"Sure."

Gobo strummed some chords, picking up where he left off. The Fraggles began,

"Oh, Mother Earth, Mother Earth, cloaked by the sky,
The caves and the stones and the sea,"​

Junior joined in, singing in a soft baritone to avoid drowning out the Fraggles.

"Their beauty is given to every eye,
The world was made to be free."​

*****

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

 

[Puckrox]

Awww! Yay! Another great story!

I love how Junior Gorg taught them something about the moon. When you hear the words "Junior" and "taught" you usually would think Junior is the one being taught. The Gorg-Fraggle relationship is great as well.

And I love how they decided Wembley wasn't the father first. Oh he's in for a treat. XD

Good story! I'll have to get around to reading "Runt" next. Maybe tonight, if my computer gets fixed up.

 

[redBoobergurl]

Very nice ending! I really enjoyed this story. You really pay attention to detail and it's clear you know these characters really well! I look forward to reading more of your work!

 

[Slackbot]

Thanks, guys!

Puckrox: Surprisingly enough, the Gorgs do have something to teach the Fraggles. Most obviously, their main skill is agriculture, and as time goes on more Fraggles will get interested in that, heh, field. I imagine a lot of them would take serious pride in learning to grow the things that everyone can eat.

RedBoobergurl: Thanks! I don't have ano more stories in the works right now. But every time I say that inspiration strikes, so I'll just wait and see what happens.

Can anyone recognize the showtune I filked for Gobo's song at the end? It appears in a movie/stage show I've referenced very unsubtly several times in my other fics.

 

[Puckrox]

Can anyone recognize the showtune I filked for Gobo's song at the end? It appears in a movie/stage show I've referenced very unsubtly several times in my other fics.

I'm guessing the show would be Rocky Horror, however, I don't recognize the lyrics...

 

[Slackbot]

Nope, not RHPS. The tune is Tomorrow Belongs to Me from Cabaret. You can find it easily on Youtube by searching for the title. I ought to emphasize that they sing the entire song the way the first verse is sung in the movie, and nobody stands up.

And now, because I am a smartASCII, here is...

*****

The Outtake Reel

*****

[Red and Mokey are in the Great Hall. Red is in the pool. Mokey is taking off her sweater.]

Red: You can do it. You'll be perfect!

Mokey: [resting her hands on her stomach] I don't know...

Red: C'mon, you know it's not dangerous at all.

Mokey: Wellll... all right! [giggles]

[Mokey steps up to the side of the pool, nerves herself, then jumps. She curls into a ball just before she hits the water.]

Mokey: CANNONBALL!

[Mokey surfaces and shakes the water out of her face. Both she and Red laugh.]

Red: I give that an eight. Sorry, but you're no Large Marvin!

*****

[Mokey is in labor. She is between contractions, and looks tired and frazzled. Red and Wembley are by her sides, each holding one of her hands.]

Mokey: It's getting harder and harder to see the beauty in this.

Wembley: [sympathetically] It hurts, huh?

Mokey: [sarcastically] No, it feels wonderful! I wish EVERY day was like this! [remorsefully] I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me.

Wembley: It's all right.

Red: Maybe you need something to take your mind off it. Why not make a game of it?

Mokey: A GAME?

Red: Sure! Like, how about arm wrestling? When a pain hits, push on our arms, see if you can beat us.

Mokey: Okay. Oh... here it comes!

[Red and Wembley get into position. Mokey's eyes squeeze closed and she whines through gritted teeth. She pushes against Red and Wembley's arms. They flip across the room and land on top of the unconscious Boober.]

*****

[Mokey is lying back with her newborn on her chest. Red and Boober are at her sides. All are in the clutches of baby thrall. Wembley rushes in dragging Gobo by the wrist.]

Wembley: I found Gobo!

Red: [accusingly] Where were YOU?

Gobo: I was, uh, in Outer Space all day. Doc was showing me all about mirrors.

Red: Uh-huh.

Gobo: [nervously] I, uh, was doing research for my moon greeting. I had no idea he'd be born today! I'm really, really sorry!

Red: [sweetly] Oh, Gobo, don't beat yourself up about it. [furiously] Let ME do it!

[Red stands. Gobo backs away. Red leaps on him and knocks both out of camera range. As the camera shakes around and the sounds of a fight and puffs of dust come from offstage, the other three gaze adoringly at the baby.]

Gobo: [VO] Medic!

[Boober looks over, mildly annoyed. Then he gets up and walks offscreen. We hear him grunt, and the sound of an impact.]

Gobo: Ow!

Boober: NOW you need a medic.