A/N: Welcome to my newest idea! First off, let me clear it out: I got the "correct" spellings of Gimmelschtump and Drueselstein from Wikia. Even there (and on Wikipedia), the spellings vary wildly for each page, but I will be consistent with my use of the aforementioned spellings.

Here I hope you don't mind some serious tense shifts, because we'll be having the young Heinz himself tell us about one of his torturous evenings as a miserable lawn gnome. Of course, the shifts come from telling both past events and current observations as the story moves. At this point, I don't think that Heinz is that bitter yet. Sad, yes, but not so bitter. He was brighter then, and quite innocent...yet.

Disclaimer: If each review I get were a dollar, I'd be rich. I'd be SO much richer if I actually owned the franchise. But well, seeing that I'm still broke and publishing my stories here instead of making actual books/episodes about Heinz...well, you get the idea. ;D


Cold Nights in Gimmelschtump

Cezille07

For sleep wouldn't come to a cold, shivering fool as I—the hollow breathing of the deadened forest was my only companion.

The only thing that nipped at the ends of my waning consciousness was the sensation at my feet: it throbbed ceaselessly, reminding me of the last time I stopped using them. Which was when—a week ago? Last month? Last year? Never? That I couldn't even remember made me feel worse. As if I could get any worse than I already was. I was hungry, first and foremost; I was sore inside and out. The film of stench around me, I could easily say, came from neighboring swamp from when the local bully nearly drowned me—and I hadn't bathed since. Partly because it keeps people away, that nasty population that calls itself "civilized." Mostly because I was simply not allowed to move.

"Stay there, put these on, and never breathe again," was my father's clear instruction, as he handed me this blue garment and red, pointed cap. Mother cried that day after they took our precious lawn gnomes. I obeyed father, thinking I could please them at last. But, well, deep down, I curse that wretched day my childhood was forever stifled.

"And never breathe again."

I thought he was joking. The next day he came out of the house and scowled to see me faithfully standing in for our repossessed garden accessories. I grinned my "Good morning," but since then, the only words he ever said were, "Don't move!"


My nose began to itch a little; fine, keep my sore throat company, just tonight. I heard the clock inside ring three hours past midnight. My arms felt like blocks of ice, and I knew that the sneeze could not be suppressed. My eyes watered. The nose crinkled. Here it comes—

"ACHOO!"

I cringed inside. The upstairs window would open, and a man wrapped in three layers of blankets would poke his surly head through it with his ritual command, "Don't move!"

And I would deny that the hot liquid streaming from my eyes were tears. I was starting to think they plainly forgot I was more than a no-wear-and-tear lawn gnome replacement—I was part of the household too. But it kept slipping their adult minds. It was all the excuse I needed, and quite frankly the only one I could come up with.

I waited. Waited as long as my leaden feet allowed no motion.

But for the first time, Father's speech remained pleasantly absent.


I was free.

For the night.

Forever.

The first order of business was to revive what was left of my frozen body. Food. Insects. Twigs. My fingers curled around a worm creeping up my left foot. I held it in front of my face, examining the queer stillness it shifted into once we made eye contact. Something about the worm accepting his fate was unnerving. You, little creature of no known worth and benefit, are willing to pacify an equally unhappy and unwanted boy? As if in reply, the head part shook up and down. I raised it to my dry lips, and the feel of his body being crushed under my tongue gave me chills that had nothing to do with the nearing winter.

So he found himself a noble purpose...ahead of me.


Particularly because I hadn't been standing very straight, the moment I tried to set myself on the ground, a sharp pain shot up my back—zap! I writhed for a few seconds as my spinal disks adjusted to not having my entire torso's weight to carry. It hurt for a full two minutes; it was the most I could do to purse my lips and watch Luna's serene parade across the midnight sky. The moon was my silent companion now, as ever, as the heavens scaled the visible spectrum, and I scaled the emotional: I was just about finished with denial! My stomach was loaded with a gram's worth of worm meat. If I wanted to, I could climb in through the window and snuggle on the couch for an hour, warm and cozy as I would like to be. My head buzzed with enthusiasm as the thought filled me. To be warm again, and comfortable. To sleep. To dream...

Instead, my restless feet found delight in strolling the deserted Gimmelschtump cobblestone streets. Everywhere I looked, empty houses gazed back, shoving my unwelcomeness from their slumbering boarders. I supposed it was less dangerous this way, for me to not exist there outside our front door, with my parents demanding my tireless loyalty. Anything else was better than that. This free air, for one. And the unsolicited grin now plastered to my literally icy face.

I rubbed my hands together. The land was soft under my diminutive weight, and the earth resounded with eerie bird cries at each stiff movement I made. Pressing towards the zoo-turned-forest, which lay undisturbed for centuries, I saw an empty Goozim cage at its entry path, stuck to the sap of a nearby maracanut tree. Goozims were these huge, endangered creatures still hunted for game. And yet that cage was the most inviting thing in the world, all its abandoned beauty beckoning me like moths to a...a lamp, I guess. With some minor remodeling, I could make a home out of this forsaken animal cage, and no one need know what became of useless Heinz. Useless Heinz and his stupid Inators. They would simply move on with what will become happy lives. Yes, I could stay here. And the sun will rise later: my parents won't have to worry about keeping me still enough to handle. Farewell to that dreary hole they call a home, and the people who fail to make it such.

And as easily, my vision shut down and my brain slowed. For the first time, a peaceful numbness came over me. Farewell, world. Goodnight...


It lasted only a brief moment.

I was shaken by a low, growling noise and the uncanny feeling a crowd was watching in nail-biting agony. I got up. What faced me was a menace ten times more massive than myself. A bared-teeth Goozim was on top the cage. It made me feel punier than ever, even more than the degrading thought that people were actually outside, staring at my predicament. The Doofenshmirtz boy is trapped in that cage and that wild Goozim wants him for breakfast. What time was it? Past sunrise? I'm still alive after that escapade I pulled off? Then this ought to be a fitting punishment. Besides, I stole this cage. Some hunter must have just left it there for an overnight trap. Salty drops of water had begun streaming down my cheeks. "H-help," I called weakly. Maybe too weakly. It was wrong of Chance to give me this liberty; Father was just asleep too deeply to stop me—

A whip crack sounded somewhere, and the Goozim, grunting throatily, hopped off the cage to look for the source of the challenging noise. I looked too. It was Father!

"Goozim, off that cage! That boy is mine!" he yelled. My tears turned into that of pride. He wouldn't fight, especially not a Goozim, for me but just then—

The Goozim launched at him, and he evaded with a graceful jump sidewards. Gasps from the crowd. The bewildered creature turned wildly, stunned that he missed. My father had a long branch in his hands. Eyeing the monster, he waited for it to charge; it came a few inches within his arm spread before he jabbed straight at its chest with the branch. The Goozim fell to the ground, utterly immobilized.

Needless to say, the crowd broke into ecstatic applause. A formally-dressed man came forward and shook my father's hands, meanwhile announcing, "Mr. Doofenshmirtz is the most valiant man in all of Drueselstein! May this day be remembered for generations by a ceremony we shall annually perform: A game called Poke the Goozim with a Stick!"

Father waved off the cheers and turned to me. His eyes were thin slits. I loosened my excited grip on the cage bars and backed off the locked door, allowing some men to pry it open. He walked toward me. I didn't know if it was joy or some new, undiscovered emotion, but as he picked me up and took me back to the familiarity of home, the crowd followed with awestruck gazes, which I myself reflected. My father saved me...that wasn't so far from saying he "loved" me too somehow.

But I was wrong.

The lawn gnome clothes were ready again, a dirty heap on the earth by Mother's feet; she sat on the porch worriedly—not for me, I should have known.

"You darned bastard of a boy!" And that began the lengthy sermon. "How could you run off like that in the middle of the night, without telling us? You freak, you should have stayed home. Now I'm a town hero and it's all your fault! I am a great figure, public property; that just made my reputation a little harder to keep and impossible to let you inherit! What did we tell you about obeying us? Obey? Obey? Obey? Does it ring a bell in your empty skull? Heinz Doofenshmirtz, remember how worthless you are and stick to your modest role in the family. For your mother and me, be a lawn gnome."

Be a lawn gnome! How stupid, he just broke my heart and still demanded that of me. The crowd was at the gate, waiting for my response. My response? A still nod. The approving grin came slowly to my father. He took the red cap from my mother and placed it on my head. One by one, the crowd whispered of my father behind their hands and left for their abodes. I shouldn't have reminded Father he still had the whip in his hands by ogling at it; his lips twitched into a satisfied smile at the idea, and he lashed at the ends of my toes. That was no invitation to move; rather, it was the converse, the invitation to shut up permanently.

And I denied the new tears. Angry tears. Hopeless tears. Stupid, childish tears. I denied the torment of my being. I was destined for greater things. I will show them all, someday...

END.


A/N: Yay, thank you for reading this! :D Now that I've finished up these two Doof obsessions (this and "For Once"), it's time for me to head back to my cave and continue "The Full Force of Time." I presume a certain platypus is getting impatient with my procrastination. Hang in there, Perry. Meanwhile, you—yes, you—have a meeting with a similarly worked button which is waiting for a click and some few opinions. ;D