Still Fighting It

Chapter 1: Good Morning, Son

Mumble stood, gently tapping his feet in suspense. As he watched, a sliver of gold broke the horizon, and Mumble felt the sun's warmth spread across his feathers. He heard the other males cry out in relief, and had the deepest urge to join them, but he thought better of it.

He had lost still more of his baby down since the start of the winter, but his neck and face were still as fluffy as always. His crystal blue eyes fell to his feet—light as air—where a small, speckled egg sat waiting.

Mumble looked up as shouts of joy began to break out all around him, each one emanating from an excited father watching his egg hatch. He quickly returned his gaze to his own egg expectantly.

He waited. He waited longer. As he continued to wait, newborn chicks began running all around him, their fathers chasing after their charges and laughing joyfully in spite of their exhaustion.

"Everything okay, Mumble boy?"

Mumble turned his head to see his father approaching him, smiling. Memphis was still a fair bit taller than Mumble—the tallest in the colony, no doubt—but Mumble did not need to incline his head as much as he once did. He did not carry an egg this year: he and Norma Jean had decided that one child had caused enough trouble.

"How's your egg coming along?"

Mumble was beginning to become a little concerned, but smiled back anyway. "Well, nothing's happened yet", he said, "but I hatched late, didn't I?"

Memphis looked a little troubled, "Well…yes, son. But you weren't exactly a normal egg". His face cleared again, "Heck, I wouldn't say you're a normal adult!"

Mumble laughed, "Then I don't want my chick to be normal either." His gaze returned to his egg, "It's going to be special. It'll have Gloria's voice, and Gloria's looks—"

Memphis patted his son on the back, "and your feet if we're lucky."

Mumble simply grinned humbly to himself. "If it's a boy", he continued, looking up at his father, "I want it to have your voice, pa."

Memphis was struck hard by these words. He coughed to hide the watering in his eyes, "now, now, son. Even if it has your voice it'll be the best darn Emperor Penguin to have ever walked the ice!"

"Thanks, pa", Mumble replied, beaming at his father before he left to go fishing.

As his father faded from view, Mumble again directed his attention towards his feet.

"For your sake, you'd better not have my voice", Mumble whispered to the egg, smirking, "I think the entire colony would go deaf if there were two of us."

Mumble continued to watch his egg. Every now and then he would imagine that it had made a bump, and he'd get excited; but by the time the day was half over, he began to worry a little. He was glad for the distraction when the amigos came by.

"Hey, fluffy! How's it going?", Rinaldo asked by way of greeting.

Ramon ran to the front of the group, "Where is the little niño? Come out and say hello to your Uncle Ramon!"

"Uh…it hasn't hatched yet, amigo", Nestor whispered to Ramon.

The little copper-headed penguin looked at the egg resting on Mumble's feet. "Of course it hasn't! Don't ju think I know that?", Ramon asked, feigning offense. "Don't ju think I know what an egg looks like?"

"So…when's it gonna hatch?" Raul asked, the other Adelies voicing their agreement.

"I don't know, amigos", Mumble replied. He let out a long sigh. "I'm beginning to worry, honestly."

"Aww…don't be sad!", Ramon soothed, "The amigos will make things all better!".

With that, the five little penguins turned their backs to Mumble and began whispering heatedly. Suddenly, Nestor, Lombardo, Raul, and Rinaldo began humming chords as Ramon took on the lyrics:

Hey,' ju Don't make it sad
Take a bad egg
And make it better
Remember, to warm it up with your heart
Then you can start
To make it better…

Mumble was about to burst out laughing at the display before him when he felt something bump against his legs. He looked down to see his egg bouncing left and right across his feet. He broke out into a cold sweat, nervous and excited.

"Shh! Guys! I think it's happening!"

"See? What did I tell you?", Ramon yelled. He raised his flippers, "Everybody, shut up!"

The group watched in anticipation as the egg continued to shake and jump. Eventually, the smooth shell was pierced by a tiny, orange beak. As they watched, the hole widened to allow a small, black head to pop out. With one last shiver, the chick shed the remaining fragments of her shell and looked up at her father with deep green eyes.

"Dad?"

Mumble was struck speechless by this unusual feeling. It was almost painful looking at this small, fluffy life he had brought into the world, and seeing so much of himself reflected in its eyes. He couldn't imagine a more wonderful or more terrible feeling.

"Hello there. Are you warm enough?", he asked.

"Yep". Her voice was fairly soft, much like Gloria's, but with a certain graininess that made it hard to tell whether she would be a good singer.

Slowly, the amigos began to wake from their awed daze.

"Madre Mia!", Nestor exclaimed.

"She looks just like you, fluffy!", Raul observed.

Lombardo couldn't restrain himself: "Let's hope she doesn't stay that way!"

With that the small penguins burst out into laughter, and Mumble joined in too.

"I have a feeling you're going to grow up to be just as stunning as your mother" Mumble assured his chick. "And, hopefully, a lot less reckless than your father."

"Hey 'ju!", Ramon piped up, "Little niña! Come to your uncle Ramon!"

"What are you, stupid?", Lombardo cut in, "you don't want her to freeze to death, do you?"

Ramon looked up at Mumble suddenly, ignoring Lombardo's comment. "Hey, I just noticed something! We keep saying 'she this' and 'she that'! She got a name, don't she tall guy?"

Mumble made to reply, "Yes, she does. It's—"

"—is it Celeste?", Rinaldo interrupted, "Celeste is the name of a true chica!"

"No, no, no!", Nestor contradicted, "Everybody knows that all the hot girls are all named Jasmine!"

The amigos began to argue heatedly over girls' names. Mumble sighed and rolled his eyes before looking down at his chick with an exasperated smile that told her that this sort of thing was common.

"You all crazy!", Ramon interjected. "When I have a little niña, she gonna be named Kristina!"

"That's the kind of name you give to a walrus! Besides, what do you mean, 'When'?", Nestor poked, "I think you mean 'if'. And based on your track record, I'm surprised you've bothered giving it any thought at all."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Ramon spread his flippers out, trying to exert some kind of authority, "Who is this guy, insulting me like this? I think you're just jealous that Ramon has all the good looks! And last I checked, you don't got any love stones either—"

"Guys. Guys!" Mumble yelled, and the group fell silent. "Gloria and I talked about this already." He looked down into his child's face and returned her smile. In a soft voice he said: "Your name's Emaline."