Two weeks ever since Princess and the Frog came to the big screen I came up with this and ever since I've been debating if I really wanted to write this since I have two other stories and school and all. But after waiting two months and not finding any fanart or stories on the three hillbilly cajuns I felt they deserve some spot light. I tend to enjoy write about minor characters because they're more flexable and we don't really know much about them.
Disclaimer: All belong to disney except for maw
Summer on the Bayou
All was still, so still that late summer night on the bayou. The water barely rippled against obstacles in the water, clouds lazily drifted past the full moon shrouding the shadowy environment into darkness. No breeze, no whispers from the willows vines, no crickets chirping, no frogs croaking, and thank goodness for the absence of the latter, for the figure sitting in the rocking chair wanted nothing more to do with them. A lone shack positioned on a deteriorating dock stood in the duck weed infested swamp.
The cloud pasted, allowing the moon to cast grey blue light through the foliage and onto the water, making abstract patterns. The figure in the chair remained motionless, face hidden in shadow by his over sized hat. He slowly drummed his fingers of his left hand while his right draped over the arm rest and dangled as if useless of the two remaining digits that were bound by a strap of leather. His clothes were stitched rages that needed replacing and hung from his lanky body, and a piece of rope acted as a belt for his pants. Nothing covered his feet that were worn and had thick calluses. His right two fingers swept across his face, rubbing a rather long prominent nose that peeked out from the shadows made by the brim of his hat. He sighed, leaned back, and began rocking. The front door burst forth and a mammoth of a form stumbled out onto the porch/dock. Darnell, the master at disturbing solitude, fell from his own two feet and his landing created a thud that shook the rickety wooden structure. Two Fingers grabbed the corners of his chair as everything in a twenty yard radius vibrated like an earthquake had struck. The hunter swore that he could feel his ribs rattling around in his scrawny torso.
"Whoops," apologized Darnell.
The door to the shack was quickly slammed shut from someone inside. Darnell winced at the harsh gesture but stood up and dusted himself off. His simplified brain quickly forgot the events before and he wore his dopey grin and waved at his brother, "Hey Two Fingers, I was ah wonder'n where you went to. Maw and Pa have settled down but are still disagreeing." The older brother greatly favored that the other wasn't there but he simply return the gesture by nodding his hand and returned to leaning back in his seat and forgetting all of the current problems in his life. Darnell shuffled across the dock and plopped down at the edge. Two Fingers chaired jumped in the air and shouting echoed from the house.
"DARN IT DARNELL! Quit causing ruckus!"
"Don't you shout at my boy! He ain't done nothin'n wrong, it's not his fault he's so big bone!"
"Naw it's your fault woman! You and your giant genes!"
"WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!" The rhythmic smacking of a rolling pin against a hand could be heard.
"Now honey let's not get too hasty!"
Apparently the boys' father's words didn't work as the sound of furniture being over turn and stomping shook the little house. Two Fingers shook his head and resumed rocking; Darnell bit his lip and winced. "Maw still ain't too happy at the meager catches we've had in the past few nights. Game hasn't been doing too well around here has it?" Two Fingers mumbled a reply and shook his head. The younger looked down sadly and fiddled his fingers, "I hope our luck changes, I don't like it when they fight." He suddenly looked up with a happy smile on his face, "Oh, Paw said tomorrow we're going into town to see the frog lady and apologize about trying to catch her and cook her. Doesn't that sound good?" Under his hat Two Fingers glared ahead, one of his eyes having a nervous twitch, the frog lady, talk of the town!
Big news in New Orleans traveled fast in small communities like his home. What a story! A couple turned into frogs by a voodoo spell, traveled through the bayou, and magically changed back. Also as it turns out that one was royalty from a far away land and the other opened a famous restaurant! If he and his brother and father hadn't had their haunting hunting experience, he probably wouldn't have believed it. But that didn't matter to him; just whichever one of the two had injured his two right digits could have gotten eaten by a croc for all he cared for. Just his luck, ever since his fateful accident his mother became more protective of him which counteracted his father's belief that boys should be strong and deal with whatever life dished out. Basically, rub some dirt on it and suck it up. And he tried, he tried so hard to please his father, he practiced his knife throwing, stealth, and tracking. But still here he was a grown boy, living with his parents and watching out for baby brother. His mother would never say it to him but one night he heard his mother say to his father that she was afraid for him to strike out on his own, with his hindrance and all. His right hand now became a shackle to him. Sure he adapted in using it but it was still a problem at catching game or other functions. Missing his opposable thumb just made life a mess. His thumb, the thing that set him apart from the other creatures of the bayou. It also earned him a lot of stares when he went into town. He glared at the two remaining digits.
"Look brother, the evening star now has ah buddy!" called out Darnell.
Two Fingers tilted the brim of his hat above his eyes. Sure enough, there were two stars shining brightly by each other. He huffed and presumed his earlier stature. Darnell whined, "Aw come on Two Fingers, remember the stories Maw told us like if we wish really hard it might come true? Maybe if we wish on it our luck might change, and there's two now. One for each of us so one doesn't have to work twice as hard and both our wishes might come true." His brother just scowled. Luck? Luck! There was nothing such as luck, just misfortune like his hand. He had wished on that darn star for so long to get his fingers back! Now he just wished Darnell would shut up! He barked an angry remarked at his sibling and slumped in his seat, arms crossed.
Darnell looked at him with watery eyes, "Sorry Huck, I just wanted to brighten the mood; Maw and Pa are so grouchy lately I'm afraid to talk to them, you've always been the one to listen to me since we were little." Despite his large body mass, the boy quickly made his way inside the house. The racket from earlier had ceased. It was quiet, it was still.
Two Fingers palmed his head and ran his hand down his face. Sometimes it was better not to have wishes granted. Huck, his true name, Darnell only called him that when he was being serious and sincere. His younger brother provided the optimistic mood for the family no matter the problem, but of all the misfortunes they have had, this appeared to be the worse. Sure they were poor, lived in a dump, and wore rags, but they had each other, except now they were at each other's throats and barely sleazing by.
He slumped in his rocker and stared out at the dock in despair. What could they do?
In the distant shadows of the trees a ghostly white form sailed through the branches toward him. It shined a bright white when it flew through the moon light. Two Fingers froze in his spot at the eerie sight but felt stupid as a lonely egret landed on one of the lumber posts of the dock. Its feathers were battered and it drooped its head sadly in exhaustion. It stood eight feet away from him, tired and pathetic.
It was too easy, the bird hadn't notice him; he could easily waltz over and wring its neck in his hands and give it to Maw to cook. He could provide for the family! He inched over, the egret made no awareness toward his presence. Closer, closer, closer, his fingers inches from its neck; but he stopped. He looked at the bird's right wing. Two of its primary feathers were missing, meaning the bird had to work extra hard at traveling, surviving. Just like him, handicapped. A cloud blot out the moon and he and the bird entered utter darkness. He could barely make outlines of the landscape around him, but the bird, the egret's snowy white feathers stood out in the pitch black. The creature's drooped head in despair surrounded by darkness stabbed him. He wanted to strangle the animal, get that awful, depressing image out of his head! But no, he didn't hunt or kill for that, it went against what his father had taught him, and it reminded him some much of himself. He lowered his arms. No, he could not do it; it was like being out of his body and killing himself in another state. He slowly made his way into the front door and stared one last time at the avian. Miserable bird in the darkness, he went inside, but did not see the moonlight break through the clouds and hit the egret, making it shine.
A bit darker than I would have liked but it should remain that way. I'm using parts from the wii game for ideas and using elements from 'To Kill a Mockingbird', 'Where the Red Fern Grows', and Mark Twain. I named Two Fingers Huck after Huckleberry Finn, it seem to fit him.
Also a side note about the egret. In my family we have an old saying that it's bad luck to kill one because they bring good luck. My dad doesn't think so since they eat our Koi fish in the suburbs but out on our farm they clean the cattle of pests, eat ticks, and fertilize the pasture. Also if you have ever seen one flying during a thunderstorm against dark clouds its really beautiful and we consider it good luck. Although the wind is really turbulant, unlike other birds they sail quite easily through it. It means that dark trouble times are coming (the storm) but you will sail through it easily and there is always a white hope sailing (egret). We don't take it seriously but it is a beautiful sight to see.