A loud bang erupts through the home, breaking the serenity of the rain that June much enjoys. She rushes out of bed to the best of her ability, her old muscles not used to working harder than a dawdle. “I swear, if he’s broken that door again” she complains to herself, well aware of her son’s occasional drinking habits and its effect on his ability to use a key. “It’d be nice to see him but he needs to start calling first” she continues grumbling as she makes her way down the stairs, turning lights on as she progresses.
She halts at the bottom of the stairs, seeing a trail of blood cover her newly laid blue carpet. Feelings of confusion and frustration battle in her mind as she follows the soon to be scarlet stain. Turning the corner, June hears the sniggering of little voices accompanied by the view of the cellar door wide open. Arming herself with a clearly overused fire poker and a flashlight, she takes a slow march down the cellar stairs.
Keeping her steps as silent as possible, she listens to the frantic murmurings coming from the darkness. Halfway down the steps, she turns on the flashlight. The bright beam reveals an image often feared by most townsfolk, a group of goblins. The combination of a sudden bright light and June’s grasp of shock alerts the short green creatures, reacting by frantically retreating to the far wall of the cellar. As the majority of the group run, several are left behind to assist two of their kin. Focusing her vision, June notices one of the goblins being assisted has an enlarged stomach and arching their back in a fashion a mother knows too well. The other is the obvious culprit to the blood trail with his comrades helping him to accommodate his lack of a second leg. With almost an aggressive snarl from the single-legged goblin, both his carers run to prioritise the pregnant female’s trip to safety, leaving him to fall to his knees, wincing as his open wound meets concrete. He shuffles around to meet June’s still shocked gaze. “When sun, we leave” he says in a broken form of the common tongue. The injured goblin sets his hands out in front of him and brings his forehead to the ground. June couldn’t resist noticing his trembling but also couldn’t ignore the obvious lack of body fat on him. A familiar call to action erupts her being as she turns and leaves the cellar.
Witnessing her departure, three of the goblins come to retrieve their leader. With two supporting his shoulders and the other his leg, they carry him to the rest of their tribe. The pregnant goblin parts the females attempting to tend to her and rushes to him. As they meet, the goblins lower him and they embrace on the cold but smooth ground. “Do you think she’ll get the hunters?” she asks worryingly in their language. He puts his hand on her stomach and smiles. “She won’t, we’re safe now” he responds, willing to deceive his mate if it means giving her peace of mind.
The father-to-be looks around his current shelter for the night, noticing old cardboard boxes, some damp from moisture, others preserved with dust. “Check those boxes” he orders several of his clan members. Without hesitation, they follow his words. As they rummage through the hoard of stored items, they mistake many items for weaponry. Those ordered to scavenge start handing out metal candleholders, small wooden decorations and any other item they can believe is lethal. The sight of every able bodied clan member brought a communal wave of comfort to the goblins. Although they were small and starving, they believed in the strength of their numbers.
At first, June thought to call the appropriate authorities. She held the phone in her hands. One quick call to the Human Preservation Police could rid her of this burden but her body told her differently. She looked at the tall cabinet housing a closed ceramic urn. She pauses as if she’s listening to a voice she couldn’t hear. “Even when you’re practically an ashtray, you always get your way Gerald” muttering with a warm smile. Clicking on the stove and pulling out several big saucepans, she turns to a picture stuck to the fridge. The picture displays an old man with a green dragon somewhat towering over him yet they share a similar joyous look. The man in the photo dons a militaristic uniform covered in medals whilst his cap is being comically worn by the dragon. June looks at the size of the meal she’s about to prepare before stroking the dragon in the picture. “It’s almost like I’m feeding you again, Mumma's precious boy” she reminisces, unable to prevent a tear from rolling down her face.
Two hours pass as the goblin clan has now set a small barricade of boxes between them and the cellar stairs, the uncertainty of a human’s intentions blanketing them with a recently common sense of anxiety. June soon comes back down the stairs less stealthily, giving them enough time to somewhat prepare a combat formation. “I need a few of you to help me with this” she requests. Both the goblins and June stand still, staring at each other. “Go with her” the injured male orders four of his comrades. With slight hesitation, they follow their leader’s order and follow her upstairs. The four of them follow June into the kitchen, halting upon a sight not even a clan’s truth-seer could predict. Three saucepans sit on the stove, full of stew. June bends down into a cupboard, pulling out paper dishes, clicking her back on her way back up. “Now, I need you strong boys to take these down whilst I get your friend something for that leg” she demands as if she was their mother. Blind to any caution, they take the saucepans from her one by one and gleefully take them to their clan.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Feeling like champions, the four of them carry down the stew and paper dishes to their clan. Seeing the amount of food, the entire clan shared the cries of relief. Before the leader could project his doubts, the starving started using the dishes to scoop as much as possible and indulge in a hot meal. “At least if it’s poisoned, we can die with our stomachs full” he worried. Soon after, June returned with a bright green bag and her trusty flashlight. Very quickly, she found the string switch for the light, brightening the room. “Well you all seem to be comfortable” she jests, reacting to the somewhat makeshift battle stations. “Bring him to me, I’ll fix him up” points at their disabled leader and gestures him over in an attempt to translate her words. Fully giving her their trust, he is carried over by his kin.
Filled with a nostalgic sense of duty, June opens the bag and starts pulling out different medical instruments. She grabs the goblin’s leg to analyse. “Rough separation, removed at the knee” her years of medical experience overcomes her belief of her retirement. In this moment, she was a nurse again and this wasn’t a goblin, but her patient. Immediately, she pulls out a tourniquet and straps it tightly to his thigh. “This is to halt the bleeding. Luckily, your race’s blood naturally coagulates better than human’s, which is why you’ve survived this long” she announces to him. “What’s your name?” she asks. Taken aback by the hospitality, he pauses before responding “We have no human name”. The goblin grunts in pain as June starts cleaning the wound and wrapping it in padding. “For now then, your name is Gerald” June asserts, almost seeing some resemblance between the goblin and her late husband. Newly dubbed Gerald nods, accepting the moniker.
Through back and forth discussion, both dancing around the language barrier, Gerald reveals his group were attacked by a group of poachers as their bone marrow is a cheap substitute for strong adhesive. June keeps herself composed but internally she mourns, learning how a strong clan had only been whittled down to two dozen. “Tell the pregnant one and a few girls to follow me” she demands of Gerald just as she finishes patching up his wound. Finally feeling reassured of his clan’s safety, he follows through with her request.
The pregnant goblin, whom June has dubbed ‘Linda’, and two females, now named ‘Rose’ and ‘Tulip', follow June through her home and upstairs to a guest bedroom. “You three can stay here. Like I’d let a pregnant woman sleep on concrete!” she exclaims whilst escorting them into the room, apathetic to whether or not they understand her words. The comfortable mattress and lack of dirt almost overwhelms the trio as they all get onto the bed. The combination of a full stomach and the warmth of the heavy blanket laid atop of Linda sends her to sleep immediately. Looking at them from the doorway, June almost feels nostalgic, as if her children were children again and had come home.
“Blankets and pillows!” June announces, before throwing the aforementioned bedding down the cellar stairs. Following the ball of bedding that has formed at the bottom, she starts opening up blankets, making sleeping areas on the ground. “If any of you would rather sleep on the sofas upstairs, be my guest. Just don’t break anything!” her voice projects a sternness that doesn’t agitate the goblins, but almost feels welcoming. Some decide to make their way to the living room, whilst Gerald and the rest stay in the cellar. “I stay here” he declines politely, “Thank you”. For once, words left his mouth with a smile following. She reciprocates his emotion, knowing full well the gift she has given them. “Now rest, we’ll talk more in the morning”.
She leaves the cellar and walks past the living room, hearing the symphony of snoring coming from passed out goblins, sprawled across her furniture. “It’s almost like having the boys home again” she whispers softly, looking at her husband’s urn. Almost as if it didn’t exist in her mind until now, she marches to the opened back door and locks it shut before looking for carpet cleaner.
The unordinary night she had so far had woken her mentally and physically. In an attempt to tire herself, she started scrubbing the blood from her carpets, using the carpet cleaner, several rags and her mixing bowl to carry water. Her hands and knees start to ache with the labour, yet her stubbornness helps her progress. “If I can clean dragon mess, I can clean anything” she recites to herself every time she stands up to replace the water in the mixing bowl.
She stands proud over where the stain of Gerald’s blood used to be. As she gives herself a grunt of confirmation and puts her cleaning equipment on the countertop, she hears whimpers and cries coming from the living room. Following the sounds, she finds a smaller goblin on her armchair, crying in its sleep. Without much inspection, the goblin’s size proved to June that it was a child. Although unconscious, the child couldn’t help but make sounds of fear in his sleep. June tuts, looking back at the urn and slowly shaking her head. She gently picks up the youngling from her seat and sits down, putting him against her chest. Often being the mother that stated she missed her kids being infants, she proceeds to comfort the child. Stroking his smooth green head, she rocks back and forth, softly talking into his ear. “It’s okay, Nana’s here” she can’t help but say, as if she were babysitting her grandchildren. The young goblin clings to her nightgown and nestles his head into her. After a few minutes, the crying stops and is replaced with a snore that is significantly softer than the rest of her new tenants.
June looks around her and chuckles at the weird sight of goblins sleeping on her furniture as one sleeps on her chest. She leans back into her seat, finally exhausted. June closes her eyes, clutching at the youngling, feeling the warmth of being a mother again before falling asleep.