Tales From a Second Hand Wand Shop- Book 1: They Were the Best of Gnomes. They Were the Worst of Gnomes.

by Robert P. Wills

Chapter Fourteen

  Wherein Grimbledung Almost Starves to Death

  Three customers looked at him. “So what’s the sale all about?” An Elf asked him curtly.

  Elves, thought Grimbledung, they act so smug. Maybe I should ask pretty-elf how many toes he has. Swallowing hard he replied as controlled and politely as possible, “Expanded management. We’re celebrating,” and because he could not help himself, he added: “Ma’am.”

  “I’m a male,” said the Elf as he tossed his long blond hair. His outfit was impeccably clean and polished. Even after a massive battle, Elves never seemed dirty. “The hair is a symbol of my prestige” he explained haughtily.

  “Of course, of course,” said Grimbledung, not offering an apology, “What are you looking for today, brave Elf?”

  “A Waterspout Wand” he replied in curt, better-than-everyone-else Elf fashion.

  ‘We’ve a fine one right here,” offered Grimbledung as he moved around the counter and took a blue-tinted wand from a wall rack. Just what you need to stay Elfishly clean he thought as he handed the Elf the wand. “Four copper today only,” he said hopefully.

  The Elf looked down at the Gnome. “I’ll give you two,” he said smugly.

  “Sold!” Exclaimed Grimbledung as he slapped his hands together. A Gnomish gesture that meant haggling was over.

  The Elf blinked angrily, realizing the lack of a counter-offer of ‘three copper’ meant he was overpaying. “Ah. I see,” he said as he took out two shiny copper pieces (even their money was always clean).

  Grimbledung took the coins from his hand. “Very nice. Good deal.” Grimbledung looked up at the Elf. “For you, my brave Elf,” he added quickly. “Have a magically wet day and come back soon!”

  The Elf furrowed a well-maintained brow and left without a word. Grimbledung haggled and harangued customers for what seemed hours. He would look outside and still the shadow of his clapboard was still not directly beneath it. His stomach growled angrily.

  Finally, during a break in customers he poked his head through the curtain, “Drimblerod! I’ve been out here for hours. I need a break!” He called at his partner, who was still (annoyingly) sitting on the floor smelling and sorting wands, “Are you going to snort wands all day?” He demanded.

  “It’s been not half an hour since you asked for the paints,” said Drimblerod. “Quit being a Gnomeling.”

  Dummy nodded. He held a mitten about at the height of where his knees would be. The other he held to his belly as he pantomimed laughing.

  “Half an hour? I’ve served hundreds of customers out here and I’m famished.” Grimbledung complained. “Hundreds!”

  “Hundreds? Quit exaggerating,” said Drimblerod as he stood, “I’ll come help you with your hundreds of customers.”

  Dummy shook his head at Drimblerod as he jerked a thumb at Grimbledung.

  “This will be fun.”

  Grimbledung moved so Drimblerod could move through the curtain.

  “I see four customers, Grimbledung. That’s good, but not what I’d call a ‘rush’.”

  “Sure it’s four now, but it’s usually six or seven and it’s been solid customers for hours.” Grimbledung’s stomach growled furiously. A customer glanced over at him. “See?”

  “So how much have you made?” Asked Drimblerod, still not convinced.

  Grimbledung pulled a bulging pouch from his belt. “Here, take this,” he said as he emptied the coins into Drimblerod’s cupped hands.

  “Well, there’s twenty copper, and a few silver here for sure.” Drimblerod tilted his head, “But not hundreds of customer’s coins.”

  “Put it with the rest,” said Grimbledung flatly.

  “The rest?”

  “I had to keep emptying my pouch. Check the drawer by the Dispel Wand.” Grimbledung’s stomach made a sound like the last moments of a sink draining. “I’m starving to death. What a way for a Gnome to go.” He groaned.

  Drimblerod moved behind the counter to the Dispel Wand and pulled on the drawer with his full hands. It felt stuck. He dumped the coins on the counter and again pulled on the drawer. Heavily, it slid out, tilting dangerously downwards. It was over half full of coins- a solid layer of copper and silver two feet by two feet, three inches deep. Drimblerod swept the coins off the counter into the drawer and grunted as he pushed it shut. He thought for a moment. “What day is it?” He asked warily.

  “Gwenersday,” replied Grimbledung.

  “Sadornsday,” said a customer at the same time.

  They both looked at each other and repeated their answers.

  “Are you sure?” Grimbledung asked the customer; a Half-Orc.

  “I’m sure,” the customer snarled. “Day before yesterday was Grunsday. Grunsday are not work days at mine for Pike,”9 he said as he pointed to himself. “Pike goes to work from Sadornsday to Thraksday,” he said mimicking what was most likely his mate, “Every day when the sun go down, Pike go to the Bronze Mines, not get in fights, and then ...” He continued to parrot in a voice two octaves above his.

  “Yes, yes. We get it” interrupted Drimblerod. “Thanks, Pike.”

  Pike smiled. A ‘thank you’ meant Pike was being good. Screams meant Pike was being bad. Pike’s mate had said to stop being bad.

  “Pike need light wand. You see ...” He started.

  “Give Pike a wand, Grim,” Drimblerod interrupted the Half-Orc again.

  Pike’s blood pressure went up slightly. He clenched his fists. Sometimes obeying a mate was difficult10.

  “On the house!” Drimblerod added quickly, spying the clenched fists. “Thanks again, Pike! Come back soon, and bring your lovely wife.” He said moving around the counter. “Everyone, can I have your attention?” He continued, “We’re going to have to take a break for lunch.”

  “It’s not even ten in the morning,” said another customer - a human. “Lunch?”

  ‘More like brunch then,” corrected Drimblerod, “Pike, help the gentleman out with you. Thanks.”

  Pike, wand in hand, grabbed the human by the neck and led him out of the store. In true Orcish fashion, roughly. The other customers followed instead of waiting for Pike to return for them.

  “Thanks folks!” Called Drimblerod. “Flip the sign, Grim.”

  Grimbledung flipped the sign and the catch on the door. “What is going on here?”

  “I’ve heard about this happening in Enchanted Forests, but never in an actual building,” explained Drimblerod. “It has something to do with a lot of magic in one place mucking up time. Like a princess who sleeps for a hundred years but to her, it’s just a night.”

  “This,” said Grimbledung spreading his hands wide, “is nice, but it’s no Enchanted Forest. It’s not even the Emerald Forest, and that’s infested with Orcs.”

  “True, but is full of magic. More than normal right now so maybe we’re at some sort of tipping point.”

  “So what do we do about it? Work until we starve to death?” Grimbledung’s stomach growled again. “My body seems to think it’s only been a few hours, but my stomach knows it’s been a lot longer. Let’s listen to my stomach,” he suggested.

  Drimblerod paced around the shop. “I’ve got it” he clapped his hands together, “the tavern across the street. It’s under new ownership since old man Hooper died and his sons sold off the place. I don’t know who bought it but maybe they can help us.”

  “Excellent suggestion, Drim!” Exclaimed Grimbledung as he unlatched the door, “Let’s go eat and have an ale.” He offered the exit to Drimblerod, “Grab a handful of copper, grab Rat, and let’s go.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “But I’m going to faint, I think,” whimpered Grimbledung as he closed the door.

  “No, no. We’re going to the tavern, but not just to eat,” explained Drimblerod.

  Grimbledung reopened the door, “Great! To the tavern. Eating and more!” This time he started to leave first. “Come on Rat,” he called.

  Rat sat up, “I t
hought someone said something about me being carried.”

  “I’ve got him,” said Drimblerod as he scooped up Rat, “I’ll just get some coins.” He moved behind the counter and filled his pouch with an assortment of silver and copper coins. “We really need to count all this. And see about getting it into the bank. It’s not safe keeping all this coinage around, you know.”

  “Deposit it later! Right now I need a deposit in my belly!” Whimpered Grimbledung from the doorway. With that he gripped his belly with both hands and bent over with a groan.

  “All right, all right, just calm down,” said Drimblerod. “We’re on our way. We’ll get this all sorted out and you something to eat.” He shook his head, “I can’t believe I am putting your stomach on even ground with the welfare of the shoppe.”

  Grimbledung groaned again, “I’m fading fast! Wax on while we leave.”

  “Fine, fine. Let’s get going then,” said Drimblerod. He looked down at Rat with a pained look in his eye, “Is this normal for him?”

  Rat looked at Grimbledung. He was bent over clutching his stomach with both hands and moaning. “Yep. Pretty much.”

  “Well we better get going before...” Drimblerod considered what he was going to say. “... Before he really starts acting strange.”

  “Starts? Are you in for a treat.”

  Grimbledung leapt at the ceiling then began to hop back and forth. With smile, he burst into song

  We’re going to the Ta-vern right now

  My belly will be so happ-y.

  Meat and cheese and crusty bread!

  And an Ale or two for me.

  An Ale or two for me?

  Yes! An Ale or two for me!

  “Are any of his songs good?” Drimblerod asked Rat as he shut the door, following his dancing partner out.

  “No. Not a single one.”