The Mamas and The Papas
Part 4: The Right Somebody to Love
By Kim McFarland
*****
Janken woke up in the middle of the night and looked around Wembley and Gobo's room. When the Ditzies slept, their light faded almost entirely. The familiar caves of Fraggle Rock felt alien when they were so dark and quiet.
Janken closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep cozied up to Papa Gobo—no, he remembered sadly, Uncle Gobo. Wembley was his only father now. He wanted to sleep and forget that for a while.
Sleep did not come. Eventually he gave up and eased out of bed. Gobo did not awaken when Janken left his sleeping nook. He walked up the steps, then paused at the entrance, listening to Wembley and Gobo's breathing. It was a comforting sound.
He silently padded through passageways he had walked so many times he could navigate them with his eyes shut. He was sure of this; he had once tried it as a challenge to himself. After a few minutes he entered Aunt Red and Mama Mokey's room. He had to walk carefully here, especially when crossing Red's side, as it was full of clutter. He didn't want to make noise and wake them or Mokey's pet plant Lanford. He got mean when awakened in the middle of the night.
He made it over to his mother's bed without incident and climbed in. Her eyelids fluttered open briefly. Then she put her arm around him and drew him close. He cuddled up to her and, lulled by her scent, the scent that he had associated from birth with comfort and love, went to sleep again.
**
Mokey woke early the next morning when the first rays of light shone into the room and found Janken by her side. He hadn't gone to bed here. She did not remember his arrival in the middle of the night. Lately he had been asserting his independence by sleeping in Boober's or Wembley and Gobo's room. However, it was strange that he had come back during the night.
She quietly eased out of bed. She walked over to her gong, picked up its mallet, said very softly, "Let the ceremony begin," and lightly tapped the metal with its padded head, producing a soft humming sound. She had not struck the gong with full force in years; Red simply could not be persuaded to greet the morning with her, and if Red's complaints had not discouraged her, then Janken's birth would have. Banging a gong near a baby who had finally gotten to sleep would be an act of madness.
Red, sleeping in her hammock, did not notice the gong's soft tone. When Mokey turned back she saw Janken had awakened. "Good morning," she said softly.
"Morning," he mumbled, wiping his eyes as he sat up.
She sat on her bed, legs folded, and began bowing at the waist and chanting softly, "Good morning, spirit of the rock. Welcome, bright and glorious new day."
Usually Janken went back to sleep while she did her welcoming-the-morning ceremony, if he woke up at all. This time, however, he sat up and listened. After a minute he folded his legs like hers—more or less; her nightgown obscured them. He bowed when she did, and because he did not know all the words to her chant he hummed softly.
Mokey smiled when she saw Janken mimicking her. He smiled back, pleased with his success. Red, who had been awakened by the different sound of the chant, grinned to herself at Mokey and her cute little imitator.
When she finished welcoming the day he scooted over and sat in her lap. For a few minutes he sat quietly, leaning against her warm body. Then he asked, "Mama, are you growing a baby now?"
Mokey answered. "I think so. If it's not there yet, it will be tomorrow."
"Don't you know?" he asked, puzzled.
"Timing is very important, and yesterday may have been a little early. So Boober and I will continue the Midsummer Ritual tonight, just to be sure."
"If you're already growing a baby, will you have two then?" he asked.
She laughed softly. "No, Fraggles just have one at a time, usually."
He sat quietly, listening to the beat of her heart. She cuddled him and stroked his hair gently. When he spoke again he asked, "When you have the baby, will you still be my Mama?"
Surprised, she looked down at him. He looked back up with pleading eyes. She hugged him and said, "Of course I will! I'll always be your mother, and you'll always be my son. Nothing will ever change that."
He hugged her and sniffled. In her hammock, Red sniffled softly too, hoping the others wouldn't notice. She didn't know why something like this was affecting her... yes, she did, she admitted to herself. Hopefully they wouldn't notice she was awake. She closed her eyes.
"Were you worried about that last night?" she asked. He nodded without speaking. She told him, "You'll always have me, Janken. I promise."
He looked up. "You swear?"
"Yes, I do."
"Solemn oath?"
She raised her hand and said, "I, Mokey Fraggle, will always be Janken Fraggle's mother. Weeba weeba, waffa waffa, garpox gumbage, whoopee!"
He hugged her again and sniffled happily, "Thanks, Mama."
As Mokey cuddled her child Red opened her eyes just a slit. Red admitted to herself that she wanted to be like that. She wanted to be that special someone for a child. By the time their family was ready to bring another little Fraggle into the world she would be ready, she told herself.
**
Later that day, Janken went into a downward-leading tunnel from the Main Hall and reached a cave that was decorated to look from the outside like a little hut. He tapped on the door. A voice sang out from within, "Coming, coming!" A bespectacled Fraggle whose pink hair was streaked with white opened the door a moment later and looked around, then down. "Oh, hello, Janken. Come in! What kind of story do you want today?"
He entered and sat on a cushion on the floor. Lately he was The Storyteller's most regular customer, and that was where he always sat to listen to her. He said, "I'd like a happy story."
"I think I have one of those. How about
The First Pet Thimble Beetle?"
Janken liked thimble beetles. They were cute, and they cleaned up crumbs. "Okay."
The Storyteller sat down and began, "Well, very long ago there was a Fraggle boy. He was smart and energetic, and had beautiful brown fur and blond hair and a
wonderful singing voice. He used to explore everywhere he could. Whenever a new tunnel was found, he would be the first to go in, ready to face any danger that might lurk within."
Janken recognized the unnamed boy in the story. Whenever she had a story about a Fraggle boy, it was always the same one, according to her description. He couldn't be anyone Janken knew; there were no young brown-and-blond Fraggles in the Rock. Janken asked, "What was his name?"
"Um... I'm not sure," she said. "Anyway, this boy had faced down a poison cackler and an avalanche monster. He'd escaped from clinging creepers and even seen a hairy-chested batworm. He was afraid of nothing! So when he found a new tunnel that led further out from Fraggle Rock than any Fraggle had ever gone, what do you suppose he did?"
"He went in."
"That's right! He explored it to see what was inside! It was dark and quiet in there, and he heard a soft sound. He didn't know what it was. At first he thought it was invisible because he couldn't tell where it came from. But was he afraid? Of course not! He took out his pickaxe, ready for whatever might come. And then he heard the noise right behind himself. He turned and saw, on a rock, the first thimble beetle any Fraggle had ever seen.
"That thimble beetle spoke to him. It said, 'What are you?'"
Janken said, "Thimble beetles don't talk."
The Storyteller said, "This thimble beetle did. It asked him about Fraggles, and he told it about singing and dancing and swimming and climbing and exploring and all the other wonderful things that Fraggles do. The thimble beetle became so excited that it asked him to take it back to Fraggle Rock. At first he didn't want to, because this was before any Fraggle had ever kept a pet. He didn't think it was right to take a creature away from its home. But the beetle promised to make Fraggle Rock its home, and eat the crumbs that he dropped so he wouldn't have to sweep up, and he said yes.
"So, he took the thimble beetle home. Everyone thought it was wonderful! It was cute, and it kept the floor clean, and it always came when the boy called for it. It had become the first pet in Fraggle Rock.
They were happy together for years and years. Then, one day, the boy was exploring that same tunnel when he heard a familiar chirp. He thought it was his pet, come to visit its old home. He called out to it, but it didn't come, it only chirped at him. He followed the sound into the darkness. The tunnel ended with a boulder, and the chirping was on the other side. He swung at the rock with his pickaxe, and with a mighty blow he shattered the rock. On the other side of it was a big, brightly-lit cavern. And what do you think was there?"
"His beetle?" Janken asked.
"No. Millions and millions of thimble beetles! So many you could never count them in your life! They all looked just like his pet, and they all sounded just like his pet. The thimble beetle that he thought was so special, so unique, was just one of millions of other bugs, all alike."
"What did he do?"
"He stood there awhile, just looking at all the thimble beetles. Then he went back home again and looked for his beetle. It saw him and crawled out of its little nest to say hello. He said, 'There are other thimble beetles.'
"The thimble beetle answered, 'There are other Fraggles.'
"'I thought you were the only thimble beetle there was.'
"'I thought you were the only Fraggle there was. I was disappointed at first when you brought me here and I saw that you were only one of many Fraggles, but then I realized that you still are the only Fraggle for me. You're the Fraggle who tamed me and made me your pet, and that makes you the most important Fraggle in the world to me.'
"The boy went quiet. Those words made him realize that his thimble beetle
was unique. In all the world, it was the only creature that he had made his pet, and at the same time he was the only Fraggle who had made it his pet.
That was what made them special and unique to each other. So, when more thimble beetles came through that tunnel and other Fraggles made them pets, he didn't mind. He still had the beetle that was special to him, and
that was what mattered."
Quietly Janken said, "Thank you, Storyteller."
"You're welcome," she told him with a smile.
He got up to leave, saying "I'll tell Great-Uncle Matt you said hi."
She hadn't even made the request yet, but by now he knew that she would. She liked his great-uncle a lot, Janken could tell. She said, "Bye-bye, see you soon."
As she watched the little Fraggle leave she thought that it was nice to have such an attentive audience. He came to hear her stories regularly, and he listened all the way to the end, unlike certain other Fraggles. Once in a while he even told her a story! He showed promise, she thought; maybe he would become a storyteller when he grew up.
**
Janken walked back up to the Great Hall. He could hear the voices of many Fraggles long before he arrived. He picked out Red's voice among the babble, then Wembley's. He hurried up.
When he emerged into the Great Hall he saw the usual sight: Fraggles playing, singing, and generally enjoying themselves. All of his family was swimming in the pond in the center of the hall. Well, almost all; Boober was sitting on the side, his feet in the water.
Watching them all play together made Janken feel better. Mokey had laid one of his fears to rest, and the Storyteller's tale had lifted his spirits too, though he could not have explained why, even to himself. Now, seeing them all laughing and splashing made him smile.
Wembley, his fluffy blond hair plastered down by water, caught sight of Janken and waved. "Hey! Come on in!"
Without hesitation Janken ran to the pond and flung himself in with a huge splash.
*****
Fraggle Rock and all characters except Janken are 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.
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