by Griffith, KF
I stopped in the doorway into the tavern, still in the shadows. From where I stood I could see Baerwald standing perfectly still on top of a table surrounded by a mass of ogres frozen in mid- fight: some had their fists drawn back, ready to strike; some had their hands around their opponent’s neck, paused in the middle of their throttling session; and some had their heads turned, looking over their shoulders. The giant was holding the dwarf over his head, poised like he was going to throw him across the room. Past him I could see a door being held open by a fat ogre woman holding a huge iron skillet in her free hand.
“If you throw that dwarf, I will personally come over there and thrash that thick giant skull of yours,” she said. “And once I knock your brains out – even though there probably won’t be enough of ‘em to feed a slugmouse – I’m going to cook ‘em in my skillet.”
The silence was interrupted by a low ‘Oooooooo’ sound. You know the kind of sound people make when they watch someone make a big mistake that they’re going to end up paying for, that ‘You’re in trouble now!’ sound? It was that sound. And every ogre in the room except Baerwald and Elganbok made the sound. I had to smile.
The fat ogre woman stepped into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind her. The crowd parted for her as she walked towards the table where Baerwald and Elganbok were. Ogres that were twice her size scurried out of her way. At one point she stopped suddenly and wheeled around, pointing her skillet directly at a skinny ogre who jumped back like he’d just been shocked. “And you, Mulchface, don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to over at the grimfish market!”
She stepped towards him and shook her skillet in his trembling face. “You owe me. You know how it works here. You get a safe place to hide out, and I get a cut – a fair cut – of your profits. You’ve not been givin’ me a fair cut now, have you?”
The ogre named Mulchface held up his hands. “I’ll have your money for you by the end of the night,” he stammered.
“Thank you,” she said. “See that you do. Pleasure doin’ business with you.” She patted him on the cheek with her free hand and turned back towards Baerwald and Elganbok. The rest of the ogres had moved out of her way so that she had a clear path straight to them.
She stopped beside their table and looked up at the giant with the dwarf still held above his head.
She rested the skillet on the table and shook her head from side to side. “You two. You never cease to amaze me.”
In a flash, she hoisted the skillet up and slammed it down hard on the table. It made an enormous bang, and everyone in the room jumped, even me. She wheeled around and faced the room. It was dead silent. I could hear myself breath. She scanned the room.
“Put the dwarf down, Baerwald,” she said without looking at him.
Baerwald carefully lowered Elganbok onto the table top. The dwarf dusted himself off and tugged on his shirt to straighten it out. He gave a swift kick to the giant’s shin.
The fat ogre woman rolled her eyes. “Let me know when you’re through,” she said.
Baerwald and Elganbok eyed each other and nodded. “We’re good,” said Baerwald.
“Thank you.” She raised her skillet, pointed it at the room, and waved it slowly from one side to the other.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, someone blurted, “There’s a kid in here!”
There was a loud group gasp followed by silence. Everyone turned to look at the ogre that had just spoken and then turned to follow where his finger pointed . . . right at me. There was another group gasp.
“Step out, boy,” said the fat lady ogre.
I stepped out from the shadow of the doorway into the blue light of the room. All eyes were glued on me.
“How did you get in here?” she asked. She sounded very calm.
From behind me, a voice echoed up from the stairwell. “Baerwald and Elganbok told me to let him in, Brunda.” It was Sniffchomp’s old, wrinkled voice.
Baerwald and Elganbok exchanged frightened glances.
“They what?” Brunda said a little bit too calmly. She turned to look at them.
From the depths of the stairwell I could hear heavy chains rattling. “They said that you’d understand once they explained the situation to you,” said Sniffchomp. More chains rattling.
“They did, did they?” She smiled.
“Do you want me to come all the way up, Mistress?” Rattle, rattle from the stairwell.
“No,” she said. “Thank you, Sniffchomp. I’ll send for you if we need you.”
The rattling stopped and then started again. It sounded like he was working his way back down the steps. I could hear what sounded like grumbling.
Brunda turned back to me. “Come here, you.”
I stepped out into the room and made my way through the sea of staring ogres. They parted for me just like they’d parted for Brunda. I stopped in front of her and looked up at Baerwald and Elganbok. They nodded at me. Brunda was shorter than me, fat, and despite the fact that she looked like she was all business, there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Her hair stood up like a thick wad of cotton balls that had been teased. That was about the only way I could tell the male ogres from the female ones: the men were all bald, but the women had black hair that stood up like teased cotton balls.
She wiped the back of her forearm across her forehead and looked me up and down. She considered me for a moment longer and then said, “What are you doin’ in my tavern, boy?”
I looked around the room. It was filled with dozens and dozens of ogres. They had climbed on top of the tables and chairs, they were squeezing in through the doorways, some of them were even hanging from the metal chandeliers in order to get a look at me. “I . . . I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’m not from here. I’m not even an ogre. Before today I’d never even seen an ogre.”
Another collective gasp went out from all of the ogres in the room. One of the ogres dangling from a chandelier lost his grip and fell noisily onto the ogres below him.
“Quiet!” Brunda raised her hand for silence.
“Where I’m from, ogres are like monsters . . . but only in stories. They’re not real.”
“You look like an ogre,” someone from the crowd offered. There was a chorus of agreement.
“Yeah, I know. But I’m not. I’m a kid, a human kid.”
“Human?” They all said it to themselves, like they were testing out the word to see how it sounded in their mouths. They looked at each other, puzzled.
“It sounds like he’s telling the truth,” someone said.
“But he looks like an ogre,” said someone else.
“I don’t believe him.”
“Me neither.”
“Hey!” said Elganbok. “He’s a kid. Give him a break.” He looked around, giving everybody the stink eye.
“We found him at the stadium,” said Baerwald. “He was stuffed into one of the box office money chests.”
“Ha!” shouted one of the ogres towards the back of the room. “I told you they was working a heist at the stadium. I told you that was them on the news flash.”
“Did you get any loot?” someone else asked. There were shouts and questions and clapping all around.
Baerwald waved at them to quiet down, and they did. “We barely escaped.” He looked down at me. “The kid actually saved me. He didn’t have to. He could’ve gotten caught and ended up in the dungeons. So, whatever his story is, he helped us out, and we owe him.”
The room was filled with hoots and hollers. Some of the ogres even stepped forward to pat me on the back. At least I think they were supposed to be pats; they were so hard that they nearly knocked me to my knees. For some reason I was smiling.
Brunda had been watching me closely. She leaned in towards me so that I could hear her.
“Would you mind joinin’ me in my office . . . for a chat?”
“Sure,” I said. I was struggling to stay standing under the barrage
of back pats.
She waved her arms over her head. The room fell instantly silent. “I know this is irregular. But under the circumstances, I’m thinkin’ we might need to make an exception. We’re goin’ back to my office to sort this out,” she said. “The rest of you can have a drink on the house.”
The crowd cheered.
“Just remember, anything you break is going on your tab!” She looked at Baerwald and Elganbok and nodded towards the door she had entered from. They nodded back, hopped down off the table, and waded through the rowdy crowd towards the door. I followed behind, through a mass of happy, noisy, brutally back patting ogres.
Chapter 5: In Brunda’s Office
Brunda’s office was crammed full of every kind of junk. There were piles of papers, stacks of old beat up books, cans and jars filled with stuff that I couldn’t identify by either the contents or the labels; there were plates, bowls, mugs, pots, pans, spoons, and something that looked like it could’ve been a chainsaw. Hanging high on the wall behind Brunda’s desk was a stuffed animal head that was probably the ogre world equivalent of a moose. Just below it hung a poster that read: A Basic Guide To Ogreball. The writing on it was too small for me to read from where I was, but it looked official.
Brunda sat behind her desk and stared at me. I sat on a long wooden bench in front of her desk and was joined by the giant and the dwarf : Baerwald on my right and Elganbok on my left. We told her our story.
“So, you’re tellin’ me you have no idea how you got here?” she said.
I nodded. “No idea.”
“And this world you’re from, totally without ogres?”
“Never seen one or heard of anyone else that’s seen one.”
“And these . . . humans . . . your people . . . what do they look like?”
I’d never thought about describing a human before. I was stumped. “Uh, I don’t know. Sort of like ogres, but our skin’s not green. And everybody has hair, men and women.”
Baerwald and Elganbok snickered.
“What’s so funny?”
“The men have hair?” Elganbok could hardly contain himself. “That must be . . . weird.” He and Baerwald chuckled.
I ignored them. “Actually, aside from the skin color thing . . . and the hair . . . we’re pretty similar.” I touched my ears. “And the ears. Our ears aren’t pointy.”
Baerwald struggled to speak between fits of giggling. “Un-pointy ears? Hair on men? Skin that’s not green?” He stood up, walked around me to the dwarf, and leaned on him to steady himself as he panted for breath. Elganbok was wiping tears from his eyes. He patted the giant’s arm as they continued to laugh together.
Despite her best efforts, Brunda couldn’t help but chuckle. “As far-fetched as that sounds, we’ve got no reason to doubt you.” She made a mock angry face and pointed at Baerwald and then at the spot on the bench where he’d been sitting, motioning for him to sit back down. He straightened up and walked back to reclaim his spot, snorting the whole way.
“If your people don’t have green skin, then exactly what color skin do they have?” Brunda asked.
“That’s just it. We don’t have one single color of skin. There’s a whole spectrum. No green, though. Unless you’re sick. My dad ate some spoiled yogurt once, and I swear his skin turned green. And no blue, either. Unless you’re not getting enough air. And I guess we turn purple if we get a bruise . . .” I trailed off. I realized how much I missed my own world.
I looked up. Brunda was looking at me like she knew exactly how I felt. I said, “I really need to get back home. And I have no idea how.”
Baerwald and Elganbok had stopped laughing.
Brunda stood up. “We’ll just have to put our brains together and come up with a way to get you back home. Until we figure out how to do that, you can stay with us. Here.”
Elganbok and Baerwald looked shocked. “B-b-but he’s a kid,” said the dwarf.
“What about the rules?” said Baerwald.
She pointed at each of them. “I made the rules here, I can break ‘em. And since when did rules matter to either of you?”
“I wanna be there when you tell everybody,” said Elganbok, jumping to his feet.
“This is gonna be good.” Baerwald rubbed his hands together.
“You two act like I’ve never changed a rule before,” she said.
“You haven’t,” they said in unison. They looked at her skeptically.
“Really?” she said. “I could’ve sworn . . .”
“Not in my lifetime,” said the giant.
“Or mine,” said the dwarf.
“First time for everything,” Brunda said. “Let’s go shake everybody up.” We walked out of her office and back towards the sound of fighting.
Chapter 6: Hatching a Plan
The room was in utter chaos. There were ogres choking each other, punching each other, poking each other in the eye, and there were even ogres slap fighting with each other. There were ogres breaking chairs over each other’s heads. There were ogres smashing mugs and pitchers in each other’s faces. There were even ogres riding on top of other ogres’ shoulders having chicken fights.
“Are they always like this?” I asked.
“Every chance they get,” said Brunda. She smiled. “That’s one of the wonderful things about being an ogre – fighting.”
“We love to fight,” said Baerwald.
“Love it,” said Elganbok. He kicked the back of Baerwald’s knee making it buckle. The giant smacked the dwarf on the back of the head.
“See what I mean,” said Brunda.
She climbed up on a table and waved her arms over her head. The room fell silent instantly. Just like before, there were ogres frozen in mid-punch, mid-throttle, and mid-smash. The only movement in the room came from one of the two ogres in the corner playing Rock, Paper, Scissors. One ogre had thrown paper while the other had thrown rock. The ogre that had thrown rock was frowning, and the ogre that had thrown paper had a big smile beaming on his face.
“Sucks to be you, Bitefoot,” said Brunda.
“I know, right?” said the ogre that had thrown rock.
“Go on, Knockhead, do your thing,” Brunda said. She waved her hand dismissively.
The ogre that had thrown paper said, “Yes!”, grabbed his opponent by the ears, head butted him, and then threw his hands up in the air and a did a victory dance. The ogre that had thrown rock slumped to the floor with his eyes crossed.
The room roared its approval.
“Who am I to get in the way of a good game of Rock, Paper, Scissors?” said Brunda. She waved her arms again, and the room settled down to a murmur.
“I have an announcement to make.” She rested her hands on her hips. “You’re probably wonderin’ what I’m gonna do about the kid.”
The crowd agreed.
“Well, I’ll start off by saying he stays.” The crowd protested.
“I know, I know,” she said as she waved her hands to calm them down. In a mocking, nasally voice she said, “But Brunda, what about the rules?”
The crowd agreed.
“Well, the Flamin’ Goat is my tavern. And I make the rules here, right?” The crowd seemed skeptical, but they mumbled their agreement.
“And if I make the rules, I can change the rules, right?” Again, the crowd mumbled their agreement.
“And I’m changin’ the rules!” She looked around the room. “Anybody got a problem with that?” She squinched up one eye and stared at them with the other.
“But Brunda, you never change the rules,” said an ogre towards the back of the crowd. He sounded disappointed.
“You’re right, up until now I haven’t. But the kid – his name is Grady – needs our help. He’s not from around here. And we’ve got to figure out a way to help him get back to where he belongs. Until we can do that, I say he’s welcome to stay here.”
There were lots of nods from the crowd.
“So, who’s got an idea about how to get the kid back
home?” she said.
“What about a Winner’s Wish?” a big, toothless ogre standing at the front of the pack said. “He could use one of those to get back home. You can do just about anything with a Winner’s Wish.”
“What’s a Winner’s Wish?” I asked.
“Sometimes when an ogreball game is important enough, they’ll offer special prizes to the winners. And sometimes the special prize is a wish – you get to make a wish – that’s why it’s called the Winner’s Wish,” said Baerwald. Everybody else nodded.
“You get to make a wish? But I can do that right now. I really wish I could go home!” I said.
“Yeah, but that’s different,” said Elganbok. “You can stand here all you want and wish until your head explodes. It ain’t gonna come true though, is it?”
“You make it sound like this Winner’s Wish thing would come true. Like it’s somehow different.”
They all nodded again.
“You don’t expect me to believe that!” I put my hands on my head. “I mean, this world is crazy enough and all – I’ll give you that – but even with all of the bizarre things that are going on around here, you can’t expect me to start believing that you can just make a wish and have it come true.”
“I don’t know how it works,” said Elganbok “but I know it does. My whole family was transported down from the Gnarlburk Mountains into the warehouse district here – house and all – after my father won one of the challenges at the Ogrelympics and got a Winner’s Wish as his prize. That’s how I came to Slimewater.”
Brunda looked surprised. “I never knew that,” she said.
“It’s the flogiston that makes the wish work,” said Baerwald.
“The flow-what?”
“Flogiston,” he said. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”
“Flogiston is the blue energy stuff that powers almost everything,” said Elganbok. He pointed to one of the crackling blue lamps along the wall. “It gives off light; it makes things like the trains run; if you touch it, it shocks you; and if you can gather enough of it – and it takes a lot – you can use it for magic.”