Trials and Tintinnabulations
by Kim McFarland


When I give a gift to you,
I know you're gonna give it too.
That's why givin's what we do,
As we pass it on.
-Pass it On


Part 1: Pass it On

It was a long Monday evening at the Muppet Theater. Over the weekend they had performed their three stage shows, and on Mondays they filmed the backstage business that would be edited into the broadcast version. It was a chance for them to have fun without the pressure of the stage.

Janken Fraggle, the usual camera operator, watched as a fellow student played back the "dailies" for the rest of the cast. The Muppets did not notice any difference in the quality of the camera work, which was good. Janken did, but he had a sharper eye for it. His replacement would be fine for the few weeks Janken would be away.

Afterward, most of the Muppets rode in the Electric Mayhem's bus back to the boarding house. Scooter and Janken went back to Janken's apartment. Janken filled a teapot with water and set it on his hot plate.

"I'm gonna miss you," Scooter said.

Janken replied, "I'll miss you too, tenderfoot."

Janken was going to return to Fraggle Rock tonight. The winter solstice was days away, and he would not miss the Festival of the Bells. After so much time in Outer Space—the Fraggle term for the world outside their caves—he was eager to go home and see his friends and family. He wished he could bring Scooter along, but, lacking fur, he would likely freeze down there.

Janken poured hot water into an earthenware cup, stirred in some instant coffee, and handed it to Scooter. Then he flipped through his collection of tea packets. Some of them had medicinal properties. He chose one and mixed it with another cup of hot water. When he drank it he made a face. Scooter said, "Something wrong?"

"No. I've got a headache. This drooptree bark tea is good for headaches, but I've tasted better stuff."

"Oh."

They sipped their drinks quietly. Then Janken opened his backpack. It was already packed, but he had had second thoughts. He took out some gloves, a scarf, and other warm clothes and set them aside, along with the ceramic ocarina they were wrapped around. Underneath was a metal bell as long as his forearm. He said to Scooter, "This is a Fraggle bell. We ring them during the Festival of the Bells. I'd like you to have it."

Surprised, Scooter accepted it. "Thanks. I wish I had something for you..."

Janken smiled. "Remember what I told you? Fraggles give things because we want to, not because we expect something in return. If you want to do something for me, ring it on the solstice and think of me."

"I will," Scooter promised.

Janken repacked his clothing and ocarina. He finished his tea, then rinsed out the cup. "It's a good thing that tea's effective. It wouldn't be worth it otherwise."

Scooter nodded quietly. "Yeah."

Janken started to put on his backpack, then lowered it to the ground again. "I hate long goodbyes."

Scooter knew the next line. "Gooooodbyyyyye."

"Yeah." The two shared a hug and a kiss. Then Janken said, "I gotta go. I can't be too late. I'll be back before you know it."

"Yeah, sure," Scooter said.

Janken put on the backpack. The two left the apartment, Janken leading a child-sized bicycle. After another hug, Janken mounted it and said, "Remember to ring the bell!"

"Sure thing!"

Scooter watched as Janken pedaled off into the evening.


The wind was cold on Janken's bare face, hands, and legs. His fur and jacket warmed his body, though, and Fraggles were naturally resistant to cold. It took more than a mild chill like this to bother him—and he knew that he would face real cold soon enough. He hoped he hadn't gotten spoiled during his time on the surface.

He pulled up to an office building and got off his bicycle. He still had a headache, he realized, and if anything it had worsened. He shrugged it off to missing Scooter already. He walked the bike up the ramp and pressed a button beside the door. After a moment the lock clicked, and he entered.

A female Monster met him inside. He said, "Hi, Lana. Thanks for letting me in."

"That's all right," she told him as they walked down a hall to a back room. "I had some paperwork to catch up on anyway. How've you been?"

"I'm doing really well. I like my job. I'm looking forward to going full-time after I graduate."

"Let us know when you do. I want to come to the commencement."

"Sure thing!"

She unlocked a storage room. It was full of boxes and furniture and things. She said, "Your bike won't fit through, but we can keep it here until you come back."

"Thanks," he said. "Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks. Happy Festival of the Bells."

Janken walked around one set of boxes. The bottom one was a wooden crate, and swung open on one side. The other was open to the wall, covering a hole.


As Janken ran down the dimly-lit tunnel the rock walls changed from rough, gray, characterless granite to smooth, friendly limestone. It became noticeably chillier as he descended. When the cold rock began to sting his feet he stopped and opened his pack. He put on a hat, a scarf, a pair of knit, leather-soled boots, and a pair of gloves. Then he shouldered his pack and continued.

Eventually the light brightened, and he emerged into a room whose walls were streaked with white flowstone, like wax from drippy candles. Inside were a warmly-dressed orange Fraggle and a gray-and-white Hairy Monster, also known as a dog, on whose back rode two small Fraggle girls. The dog barked enthusiastically and jumped forward. Janken quickly tossed his backpack to the side and let the dog knock him to the ground. It licked his face with messy affection. Janken laughed—as much as possible while keeping his mouth closed—and pushed at the dog's face. "All right, Sprocket, I'm glad to see you too! Let me up!"

The dog barked again and backed up, letting Janken get to his feet. The two little Fraggles on Sprocket's back were laughing. Somehow they had not fallen off, and were holding on even though the dog was wagging his tail so hard he threatened to shake them off. Janken put his backpack on again, ruffled the fur behind Sprocket's ears, and said, "I didn't expect to find you waiting for me."

"He came with us," the smaller of the two children, a little brown-skinned girl named Poncle, informed him in a piping voice. The dog barked and nodded vigorously.

"Welcome back," said the orange-skinned adult. Gobo, one of Janken's uncles, or fathers, depending on how exact one wanted to be.

"Thanks. I don't think I've ever been this thoroughly welcomed in my life," Janken remarked, brushing gray dog hair off his purple fur.

"How're you getting along up there?" Gobo asked.

The little group began walking down a passage toward the main area of Fraggle Rock. Sage, the turquoise-skinned girl, slid off Sprocket's back and took Janken's hand. Not to be left out, Poncle also dismounted—Sprocket, knowing that she was too small to get down easily, crouched low to let her off—and claimed Janken's other hand. Bracketed by his younger sisters, he said, "Fine. It's going a lot smoother now. I've got a job with a bunch of people who... well, they're hard to describe. I really like 'em. They're like a big, noisy, kind of crazy family, and they've welcomed me in. I don't feel lonely anymore."

"Good," Gobo said, pleased. That was the part that had concerned him the most. Their family was known for its daring: Uncle Matt had been the first Fraggle to investigate Outer Space and Gobo had been the first to make friends with some of the inhabitants, and now Janken was carrying on the tradition by being the first Fraggle to live among them. The Fraggles had realized that the worlds were interconnected, and they needed to find their place within them. It was the next logical step—but, still, the idea of leaving Fraggle Rock long enough to understand the culture of the Silly Creatures was practically unthinkable. Except, obviously, for someone who had been raised on tales of the surface world.

Janken continued, "I'm busy pretty much all the time, between school and work. And I've found someone I really like. A surface dweller."

"Really?" Gobo asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I didn't expect it either, but... well, you'd like him if you met him. And he can dreamshare. I can't help wondering if he's part Fraggle."

"How can someone be part Fraggle?" Gobo asked.

"I don't know, but if there's one thing I've learned up there, it's that there's plenty I don't know yet."

Gobo nodded. "Yeah. It's hard to believe how big and complicated this world is."

"Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever fit in. But I'm having fun trying!"

"That's the only way to do it," Gobo told him with a grin.

"Did you bring songs from Outer Space?" Poncle asked.

Janken looked down at her. "I brought lots of songs," he told her with a smile. "Want one?"

Both children chorused, "Yeah!"

Janken knelt and said, "Open my backpack and get my sweet potato."

Sage undid the fastens and took out a ceramic flute shaped like its namesake, with two rows of three holes, side by side, on the top. She handed it to Janken. He blew into the mouthpiece on top and covered the holes with fingers to play a short introduction. Then he handed the flute back to Sage, who continued the tune, and began singing,

"We come from the fire, living in the fire,
Go back to the fire, turn the world around."

Poncle began clapping percussion. Gobo joined in with his gourd guitar. Janken continued singing about the people of the water and the mountain. As he did the others picked up on the pattern of the lyrics and joined in. Even Sprocket, prancing bouncily, arfed along with them.


By the time they reached the Great Hall, Sprocket had left the party to return to his home with Doc. He enjoyed playing with the Fraggles now that they were no longer scared of him, but he was hungry and Fraggles, being herbivores, did not serve food fit for a dog.

The Great Hall, its walls now frost-coated and spiky with icicles, was filled with Fraggles, all bundled up against the cold and playing vigorously. Some were skidding around on the frozen surface of the pond and batting at a skipping stone with flattened sticks. More than their clothes, it was this boundless energy that kept them warm and healthy.

A light orange Fraggle named Red noticed them, then jumped over the side of the pond and shouted, "Hey! You're back!"

"Did you think I'd stay away?" Janken replied as he hugged her.

"Fraggle Rock would stop moving without him," Gobo said.

"Would it really?" Poncle asked, wide-eyed.

"No," Janken told her with a smile. "They're teasing me."

"C'mon, grab a stick and join in!" Red said, beckoning.

"Thanks, but I'm kind of tired. You'd clobber me. Tomorrow I'll have a chance, eh?"

"Suit yourself," she said, and took a swat at the stone.


They made their way to Boober's room. The small, blue-green Fraggle was crushing dried leaves with a mortar and pestle, releasing a pungent smell. He was so engrossed in the task that he did not notice their entrance. Gobo said, "Look who I found."

Boober glanced up, then put down the pestle. "Welcome home."

Janken, taking off his backpack, said, "I've got something to show you."

Janken took some small boxes out of his backpack and set them on the table by the mortar and pestle. Boober, who had seen boxes like these before, quickly picked one marked "cinnamon" up and sniffed the contents. Janken often brought back spices that were not known to Fraggles. Boober would have days of quiet fun playing with the spices, discovering how to use them, and eventually would share them with the other Fraggles in the food he cooked.

He sniffed another—curry—then said to Janken, "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Janken replied, pleased. He dug around in his pack some more, then took out several smooth stones about the size of cherry tomatoes. He selected a black one with snowflake-like white markings and gave it to Boober.

Boober turned the piece of snowflake obsidian in his hands. The two girls came over to look at it. "That's pretty," Poncle remarked.

Janken gave each of the others another pebble. Poncle got an agate smoothie with markings like folds of flaky pastry, and he gave Sage a flattened piece of petrified wood. He handed Gobo a tiger's eye pebble. Gobo turned it, watching the light glint off the crystals within the stone.

The girls chorused "Thanks!" and ran off to show their friends, and probably to give the pebbles away. Janken had more stones in his backpack. He had collected pretty, polished rocks of kinds that were never seen in the limestone caves of the Rock. By Silly Creature standards they were semiprecious at best; their real value lay in the pleasure they would bring as they were given from Fraggle to Fraggle.

Janken said, "I'm kind of tired. I think I'll turn in for the day." He closed his pack and raised it to one shoulder.

Boober asked with sudden concern, "Do you feel well? Any frizzing or itching of your fur?"

Janken chuckled. Boober was convinced that Outer Space was saturated with disease and pestilence. "I'm fine. Just tired. And I've got a little headache."

"Oh, headache. That's an easy one." Boober turned to a shelf full of jars.

"Actually, I had some drooptree bark tea before I came here. It didn't work, and too much gives me a stomach ache. I just need to rest."

"Okay." Boober came over and put his arms around Janken. "Welcome back," he said.

Janken hugged back. "Thanks."


Janken did not have a cave of his own in Fraggle Rock. For years he had been living on the surface, and when he came back he stayed with one or another member of his family. Gobo led him back to the room he still shared with Wembley. The green Fraggle was sitting quietly in his bed nook, tapping a gentle rhythm on a pair of bongo drums in his lap. When he saw Gobo and Janken he said, "Hey, you're back!"

"My front, too. Both of me," Janken answered. "How've you been?"

Wembley put the drums aside and bounced down to give Janken a warm hug. "Just great. The kids were all wound up about you coming back."

"Yeah, I saw them. And Sprocket," Janken said. It always felt a little strange to have everyone make a fuss when he came back, but he wouldn't go so far as to discourage it.

There was a nook on one side of the wall that Janken used when he stayed here. He pushed his backpack into it, then sat on the ledge. He said, "I've been doing well on the surface. I've got a job that's tricky, but I really enjoy it, and it's among people I like. When I'm done with school, I'll probably spend most of my time there."

"Most of your time? Wow," Wembley said.

"Yeah. Up there people have to work like Doozers because the surface world is so much more complicated. It sounds terrible, and a lot of people say it is, but I don't mind it. The people I work with, they're more like us than you'd think. Before I met them I often got lonely."

"I don't know how you can do it, working all day and no Fraggles to mess around with," Wembley said.

"Yeah." That was the worst thing about leaving Fraggle Rock: finding yourself in a strange world with no friends to help you through. Even after he began to understand how the surface world worked and got over his fear of the inhabitants, he never stopped longing for the companionship of the Fraggles he'd known and loved all his life. "Never mind that. I'm fitting in, or at least getting to understand some of the stranger customs up there. Like money."

Gobo said, "The metal markers that Uncle Traveling Matt has brought back? I thought the Silly Creatures passed them around like smoothies and rollies."

Janken shook his head, then winced; the ache was not letting up. "It's like... well, points in a game, except you need those points to live with. You get them by working, and you exchange them for food, clothes, a home—everything. If you don't have those points, you can't get what you need."

Disturbed, Wembley asked, "You have to swap things just to live?"

Boober came in carrying a moss pack. He gave it to Janken, who put it on his head. "Thanks. Yeah, I think the reason they need those markers is because there are so many people up there that they can't keep track of themselves. What's really weird is that it's supposed to be a good thing not to use them, but to keep them to yourself instead."

Gobo said, "That doesn't make any sense. If you don't use them, what good are they to you? That's like picking radishes and then not eating them."

Boober remarked, "Maybe they save them so they can use them later."

Gobo and Wembley exchanged glances. They both remembered the time Boober had been hoarding things in a cave he had dug out just for the purpose. It had been foolish and senseless, and had nearly ended in tragedy when the cave collapsed, trapping Boober within. It was a tale they kept to themselves to spare Boober humiliation.

Unaware, Janken said, "That's what they say, but some of them save much more than they could ever need, and they call that being rich and are proud of it. They even have buildings called banks where they store their money. I don't know—I understand how it works until it gets complicated, but I can't explain why they do things the way they do."

Wembley leaned back on his arms and said, "Can you imagine if we used Fraggle pebbles that way? We'd have to carry around bags of rocks!" He laughed.

Mokey and Red had been listening from one the cave's 'windows.' Now they entered. Red said, "And we'd have caves stuffed full of rollies and smoothies. Hey, Mokey, trade you a rollie for a radish?"

"What color?"

"The rollie or the radish?"

Janken watched, amused, as his parents spun the concept of using stones as money into an increasingly elaborate and ridiculous fantasy. They clearly found the idea as silly as he did. But soon, lulled by the pleasant, comforting sounds and smells of home, Janken began to fade, and dropped off to sleep.