The rest of the day passed without significant incident. I helped Greedy in the kitchen after Farmer and I cleaned up my pants. Painter asked me to model for his latest painting. Smurfette asked me over to her home for tea. I saw no sign of Tracker or Camper the rest of the day. Then it was night. I had dinner with my friends, and then went home with Farmer. The two of us chatted about the events of the day, getting ready for another early day in the morning. ".. Oh! And Smurfette told me to tell you we're both invited to Jokey's masquerade tomorrow night," I called into the kitchenette area, where Farmer was washing a couple wine glasses from the previous night.

"Dad gum, shugah." He said, drying the stemware and opening the cupboard. "Ah've never been any good at these thin's."

I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand, "Oh, It's easy, Farmer. Just stick with me and you'll do just fine."

He chuckled a little from the other room, and joined me in the bedroom. I watched him from my vanity as I washed away the day's impurities. He unclipped his overalls and opened the dresser looking for a nightshirt. As he turned around to put it on, I noticed a splotch of red across his lower back. "Hey, wait a second, hon." I said, turning around. "What's that on your back?"

He used my mirror to examine the angry red splotches on his back. "Oh, tha'" he said, dismissing it and putting on his nightshirt, "It's no smurfy deal, shugah. Ah jus' fell in some ru'baga earlier t'day. You know me; tha's th' first place Ah smurf a rash."

"Okay…" I said, still feeling concern in the pit of my stomach. "But you should probably talk to Papa smurf tomorrow. That looks pretty bad to me."

He yawned a bit, stretching his arms. "Ah will, shugah." He said.

I rose from my stool, and walked to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Hehe… Y'know, the night's still young, honey." I said, suggestively.

Farmer intertwined our fingers, and smiled his seductive smile "Shug… Ah got an early day t'morrow," he laughed a little. "'Nother night…"

I pouted a little in mock annoyance as he turned himself around so he could look in my eyes. He rested his forehead on mine and locked eyes with me. I always felt so…. Mesmerized… whenever he did that…. He kissed my lips lightly, sending shivers up and down my spine. "Goodnight, Van'ty." He said softly.

Him and I walked to bed, and snuggled up underneath the warm, fluffy covers. "Mmm… I love you." I said, snuggling in his warm embrace.

"Ah love you too, Van'ty," he said softly, kissing my ear lobe.

It wasn't long before the two of us were sound asleep. Sometime during the night, I was woken. Farmer was lying in the bed next to me, drenched in sweat and shuddering as if it were the middle of winter. He muttered in his sleep, clenching and unclenching his fists. I sat up and shook his shoulders. "Farmer. Farmer, honey." I said softly, trying to wake him up.

He shot awake and laid his head back on the goose feather pillow breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, Van'ty… Ah'm sorry… Did Ah wake you up?" he said.

"No, it's okay… my smurf, you're soaked!" I said, feeling his sweat soaked nightgown.

"Ah dun' feel so good, shugah…" he said wrapping his arms around himself for warmth.

I put my hand on his forehead. It had always been a bit warm from all the time he spends outside in the heat. But tonight, it felt as though I'd just touched a fire. "Farmer, you're burning up!" I said, getting out of bed and slipping my feet into my slippers. "I'm going to go get Papa smurf."

Farmer shook his head and took me by the wrist. "Naw, shug. It's th' smurf of the night. Don' bother him." He said, "It's okay… Ah'll wait it out until mornin'. Go back t' sleep."

He took off the wet nightshirt and replaced it with a clean one. Then he laid back in bed with me. He sat up suddenly, with a dry, throaty coughing fit. He pounded his chest slightly with his fist, and laid back down, trying to fall asleep. I couldn't fall asleep knowing something was wrong with my beloved smurf. I sat up and leaned against the fancy bed frame. With one hand, I caressed Farmer's forehead, trying to soothe him back to sleep, and with the other, I admired the handiwork of the bed frame.

Handy made it for us as a housewarming gift. It was a queen-sized bed, big enough for both me and Farmer to fit comfortably with plenty of room to spare. The bed frame itself stood against the wall and was open, like a wooden cave. On either side of the bed frame, there was a little shelf for books and knickknacks, or Farmer's alarm clock. In the middle of the bed frame, right about where Farmer and I usually sleep, Handy installed a mirror. I always feel peaceful when I can't sleep at night, then look up at that mirror and see my beloved. He always looked so peaceful when he sleeps.

I cast a glance at Farmer. He had fallen back asleep, somehow, but looked as though he was having some sort of terrible, unsmurfy dream. His face was scrunched in concern, and he was muttering and shaking his head softly. I stroked his forehead, and bent over him, gently whispering sweet nothings and kissing him on his cheek. His features relaxed and he had a gentle smile. I laid back down under the covers and snuggled up to him, trying to fall back asleep. It wasn't long before he was awake and coughing again, this time with more power than before. I sat up sleepily and held him as he struggled to stop coughing. I lit a candle and checked the clock. It was about 4:50. "Ah'm sorry Ah keep wakin' you up, shugah." Farmer apologized hoarsely.

"Don't be. I want to stay up." I said, smiling tiredly. "What kind of a smurffriend would I be if I let you stay up sick all alone?"

He smiled weakly and tried to fall back asleep. I kissed him on the cheek, and tried to fall asleep for the hour before it was time to get up. Thankfully, his cough stayed away for the rest of the "night". But the alarm clock to Farmer's right provided a rude awakening. Grumbling with disdain for the contraption and general tiredness, he shut off the alarm and tried to cuddle up around me. I blinked my eyes more, and saw he'd turned off the alarm. I yawned widely and stretched, trying not to disturb my companion. Once he noticed the disturbance, his head jerked up slightly. "Hi." He said softly.

"Hi." I spoke in reply, "rough night, huh?"

He smirked a little yawning and stretching. "Ah'll say." He replied, "Sorry Ah kept wakin' you up, shugah."

I cuddled close to him. "No. Don't be. I don't mind staying up with you." I said, nuzzling his chest. "Hehe… Although I do wish it was under different circumstances, if you smurf my drift?" I said, winking suggestively.

He chuckled a little, squeezing me. "you kin be such a little pervert, shugah, Y' know that?" he joked.

I giggled a little and looked up at him coyly. "Hehe. I know."

He smiled a little and rolled his eyes in mock suspicion. "Y' know… if Ah didn't know you better Ah'd think you was takin' 'vantage of me for m' body." He said jokingly.

I rolled my eyes a little, still wearing my coy grin, and let my hand walk on Farmer's chest like it was a separate entity. "Yes, Farmer. I've stuck by you for forty years ONLY because of that smurfy farmer's tan of yours." I said, pretending to mean it.

He shrugged his shoulders in false defensiveness. "Hey, now don' go pokin' fun at th' farmer's tan." He joked.

He chuckled a little and drew me closer. He planted a big, smurfy kiss on my forehead and whispered into my ear. "Hehe… If Ah wan' sick Ah'd make up for makin' you loose sleep… if ya- smurf my drift." He said suggestively.

I blushed a little and giggled. "Oh, that's right! You were going to go see Papa smurf today! Gosh, what time is it?" I said casting a glance at the clock. "Oh, smurflesticks! It's almost 6:30…we'd better get going."

He pouted slightly, and then sat up in bed and stretched. I slid out from underneath the covers and boiled some water over the little kitchenette stove for tea. "Tea, Farmer?" I called back towards the bedroom.

"Thanks, shugah." He replied.

I made two mugs of tea. I put one on my vanity and brought the other to my mate. He was clipping his overalls over his shoulders and stretching his neck. He took a big, long sip from the mug, then put it on the dresser as he clipped the other buckle on his olive green overalls. In a series of long sips and gulps, he finished off the tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He took his straw hat from the rack and covered his head. I sat at my vanity, dabbing concealer under my eyes to better hide the dark circles. Farmer kissed me on the temple, then opened the front door "Hey, where're you going?" I asked, swiveling on my stool, "You promised me you'd go see Papa smurf today, remember? I don't even think he's up!"

"Ah know, Van'ty. Ah'm feelin' a whole lot betta though, so Ah thought Ah'd get some'a th' crops to th' silo b'fore it got too hot out." He explained. "Ah'll visit him later."

I felt somewhat defeated. It's not like I could make him go see Papa smurf. "Okay," I said, finishing with my tea and taking the mugs to the sink. "I'll smurf by the fields later with some breakfast then."

Farmer seemed to tense up at the very mention of it. "Um- shugah, maybe today's not th' best day t' do tha'…." Farmer said sheepishly.

I rolled my eyes a little. "What, you have a smurfstress you see when you work in the fields, or something?" I joked.

Farmer shook his head. "Naw. Papa smurf's makin' Tracker an' Camper work in th' fields with me t'day."

Immediately, I tensed up. I was working with Greedy, which meant I had to bring all the workers around the village lunch when they couldn't take a break. As much as I hated it, it now included Tracker and Camper. "Hon, I've gotta do it anyways…."I said, ducking my head. "it's part of my job when I work with Greedy."

Farmer was quiet for a moment, his knuckles still clutching the door handle. "Okay…." He said nervously, "But promise me you'll be careful, shugah. Ah dunno where Ah'll be when you come with breakfast."

I nodded, and met him at the doorway. "I will. Promise." I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "now, go on! You're running out of daylight!"

He smiled his wide smile and nodded his head, closing the door behind him. After a short while, I left our little mushroom bungalow and started walking for the mess hall. for the first time since I can't remember when, I was actually one of the zombie-like smurfs that could barely keep on their feet. "Bonjour, mon ami!" I heard the thick accent of my friend, "Eh? What is wrong? You look as though you are about to keel ovair from exhaustion."

I yawned and turned a little to look at my friend. "Funny. I feel like it." I laughed, looking in my mirror to check if my concealer had smudged. "Farmer was up all night with a terrible cold. I don't think either of us got more than two hours of sleep."

"Oh mai! Has he talked to Papa smurf?" he asked, raising a thick French eyebrow.

I shook my head. "He was feeling a lot better this morning, so he went to go get some of the crops in the silo before it got too hot out." I said, yawning again.

Breakfast came and went with no interesting events. When all the smurfs had cleared their dishes and left them in the washbasin at the head of the room, I reported to Greedy to get the breakfasts for Farmer and… my two worst enemies…. Greedy gave me a large picnic basket with three plates with the morning's breakfast. "Make sure they don't get dirt all over the bottom of the plates again," Greedy complained, biting into a smurfberry muffin, "It smurfs the dish!"

I nodded my head and walked to Farmer's fields. It was just my luck that when I approached, Farmer was nowhere to be seen. Maybe I should wait a few minutes, I thought to myself, I don't feel too smurfy going over there alone…

I waited for another minute or two, and surely enough, Farmer joined my tormenters. Now I felt a bit more safe to deliver their food. Avoiding their hateful eyes and focusing my attention mainly on Farmer, I gave the three workers breakfast. "Here, I gave you my meat," I muttered to Farmer, still avoiding eye contact with Tracker and Camper.

"Thanks, shug." He said softly, tilting my chin up and smiling at me.

The eye-rolls from Camper and Tracker were practically audible. I sat closer to Farmer, and waited for my two tormenters to finish their meals. Nobody said anything, except for little mutterings between me and Farmer. It felt like the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Thankfully, it wasn't very long before the three were finished eating and piled their dishes in the picnic basket. I stood and dusted myself off and then helped Farmer up. He put a hand to his head and blinked a few times. "Whoo!" he said, stretching his neck a little, "m' head hurts…."

"I'm telling you, you have to go see Papa smurf." I insisted, "Something's not right."

Farmer wrapped me in his warm, earthy-smelling hug. "Ah'm fine, shug." He said, "It's prolly just a flu, er something."

"Still…" I said, resting my head on his chest for a moment, "Promise me you'll go talk to him… flu or not, I don't like seeing you sick."

I heard a snort of annoyance from behind me. "Please, really. I just ate." Tracker scoffed.

I turned around and shot him a look of poisonous hatred. "Tracker," I said, breaking from Farmer's embrace, "Make fun of me all you want. I'm used to your torment by now."

I walked towards the taller smurf, anger in my face. "But as soon as you smurf fun at my Farmer, or the love I have for him, that's smurfing the line." I snarled, pure hatred in my eyes.

Tracker was taken aback by my anger. "I have news for you, Tracker," I said, staring him down, "I'm more the smurf than you will EVER be. And I'm more the smurf-ETTE than you will ever get."

It felt genuinely good to talk down Tracker like that. I'm not even sure what came over me. It wasn't even a direct attack on Farmer. It was just- a snide comment that any other day I'd let slide.

My pride and confidence for finally standing up to my bully was a short- smurfed spectacle. Next to Tracker, Camper started rubbing his chest and twitching his left arm. "T-Tracker..." he said, sounding terrified, "I-I-I don't feel so-"

Suddenly, the muscular smurf dropped to the ground, convulsing and shaking as if he were a landed fish. Tracker's eyes widened and darted around, panicky and scared. "Go get Papa smurf!" Farmer shouted.

Without a moment's hesitation, Tracker ran from the spot, crying for Papa smurf. I watched the shuddering smurf quake in the dust. A trickle of drool shook itself from his mouth. His eyes were unlike anything I've ever seen. So terrified. So- shocked… I don't know why I did what I did. He was just as much to blame for my torture as Tracker. Somehow I just couldn't stand here and watch as he shook, scared and feeling alone. I kneeled down beside him and spoke words of comfort in his ear.

It was only a few moments before his quaking stopped completely. His eyes were wide open, in a look of total shock, and his jaw hung limply. I carefully put my two fingers on his neck, just below his jaw, and tried to feel for a pulse. Nothing. It was as silent as he now was.

Horrified, I pulled my fingers away. My lower lip trembled. Not knowing why, I put my hands on his chest and started to pump. Maybe I could start his heart again. Maybe I could save him. "Van'ty, he's gone." Farmer said from behind me, "let him go."

I shook my head, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. "I-I- I can't just give up, Farmer." I said, determined, "Smurfstard or not I can't just leave him like this!"

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I paid no attention, shaking it off and continuing to desperately pump Camper's chest. "Vanity," I heard an older sounding voice say, "I'll take it from here."

I turned my head to see a sad- eyed Papa smurf. Farmer stood next to him, easing me to my feet and wiping away my tears. Tracker was sitting on Camper's other side as Papa smurf desperately tried to find some signs of life. The smurf was tightly grasping Camper's hand, bawling for all his worth. I turned my face from the sad sight and rested my forehead under Farmer's chin. "I-I'm sorry, Tracker…" I heard the sad voice of Papa smurf, "Camper smurf is dead…"

Tracker cried a mournful, sorrowful, grief struck wail that rocked everyone and everything surrounding us. I couldn't even bear to look at him. It felt like it was my fault for not being able to do anything. Smurfs came from the smurfberry fields and the village, wondering what all the commotion was about. The sight of one of their own lifeless and unresponsive caused many smurfs, even those that didn't know him very well, shocked everysmurf who saw.

Jokey's masquerade was delayed for a couple of days. Not like any smurf protested. Papa smurf and Tracker had a funeral organized for Camper for the next day. Farmer decided it would be for the best if he delayed his visit for another day. For once I couldn't protest.

Farmer and I didn't talk too much when we got home. I sat at the kitchen table, studying my reflection in my mirror. "Wine?" he asked plainly, opening the cabinet where we kept the liquor.

"We are soul mates." I joked a little, rubbing my temples with my thumb and forefinger.

He poured me a half glass, but then got his half- empty bottle of Smurfern Comfort from the top shelf. He brought me my wine and sat at the table, perpendicular to me. "Ah think it was a really smurfy thin' y' did tryin' t' save Camper…" Farmer said, raising the bottle to his lips, "Bein' able t' forgive'm after all he's done…"

I shook my head slightly, swirling the merlot in the crystal stemware. "I never said I forgave him..." I said, staring coldly at the wine. "He made my life Hell… It's gonna be an awful long time before I can forgive him. But I couldn't let him die alone and scared… I wouldn't even wish that on Tracker."

He nodded his head in silent understanding and brought the bottle in his fist to his lips, taking a big swig. I drank my half- glass of wine, then the two of us got ready for bed. "Really makes y' think, don' it?" Farmer said, sounding chilled from the events of the day. "live an' well one minute, fightin' for y' life th' next. Really makes you 'preciate th' time we got, huh, Shug?"

I nodded a little and let him wrap his arms around me. "Yeah…" I said, finding comfort in his embrace. "It's scary… it's the one thing not even you can protect us against…"

He buried his face in the pillow next to my head. He sounded like he'd started to cry. I held his hands tight, trying to console him. I guess watching Camper die so- suddenly- really affected him…

The night was not a very restful one. Between Farmer and whatever illness that was afflicting him, and dreams and visions of Camper's haunting death, neither of us slept very well at all. I awoke to a loud knock on the front door. I looked to my sleeping companion. Farmer was still sleeping, snoring quietly and twitching his ears. I managed to unfold myself from his embrace without waking him and slide out from underneath the covers. I took my fluffy robe off its hook on the door and tied it around me. The visitor knocked on the door again. I unlocked the door and opened it. In the doorway stood Papa smurf, clad in black trousers and coat, and wearing a solemn expression. "Hello, Papa smurf. Come in, come in." I said, a little surprised to see him. "What brings you here?"

I put a kettle of water over the stove. "Tea?" I asked.

Papa smurf shook his head gently "No thank you, Vanity." He said, entering my cozy little bungalow, looking a little surprised. "I came to check on you two. You missed breakfast."

Confused, I looked at the clock in the corner. It read 10:30! "Oh, smurf is me!" I said, stunned, "Farmer, wake up!"

The lump in the bedroom stirred a little, mumbling and covering his head with the pillow. I rolled my eyes a little and rushed into the bedroom, giving his shoulder a shake. "FARMER." I said loudly.

The blanketed lump jerked awake and rolled over. "Mmph! Ah- Ah- Ah'm up… Ah'm up shugah." He muttered, "wha' time is it…?"

"It's 10:30! We overslept!" I said.

"Dad gum!" he shouted, jumping out of bed. "Ah gotta get out to th' fields!"

Farmer scrambled to find a clean pair of overalls, tripping over sheets and shoes. "Farmer, Farmer, calm yourself!" Papa smurf said, trying to calm Farmer, "Everyone's taking a day off of chores for the funeral. You included."

Farmer breathed a little sigh of relief and sat on the edge of the bed. "Phew!" he said, laughing a little. "Y'scared me, Pa' smurf."

Papa smurf chortled a little "Sorry, Farmer." He said, sitting next to him on the bed. "I came by to ask whether you two were going to the funeral today."

I shifted my gaze and went quiet for a moment. The kettle in the kitchen whistled. Wanting to dodge Papa smurf's questions, I rushed to take the kettle off the stove. I made myself a cup of tea, still nervously trying to dodge Papa smurf's question. "I understand if you don't," Papa smurf added, "But I think it would be really good for you two to get some closure, given the situation."

I took a deep breath and looked to the side, swirling my cup of tea. "Papa smurf…" I said weakly, "If this is your attempt at getting me to make peace with what they've done…. I'm afraid you're way off base."

I clenched my fist in resentment. "Tracker and Camper have put me through Hell for as long as I can remember…" I said, remembering their torture, "I can't just forgive one of them just because he died and I didn't want him to die alone."

Papa nodded his head in understanding, my words seeming to sting him like needles. "I understand, Vanity," he said, rising from his seat on the bed. "I can't make you go. But I do think that it would be good for you to put him and his actions in the past."

I nodded my head slightly, biting my bottom lip. "I- I'll go…" I said, fighting the memory of Camper's terrified eyes. "If not for Camper, just so I can get these images out of my mind…"

Papa smurf nodded his head, and took me in a warm, fatherly embrace. I buried my face in his black coat, dry-sobbing at the memory. "no smurf deserves to die like that…" I said softly, "Not even a smurfstard like him…."

"indeed, my little smurf," Papa smurf cooed sadly in reply, "but thanks to you, he didn't die alone. That's more than many other smurfs ever get in their lives."

I broke the embrace and nodded, still haunted by the memory of the terror in Camper's eyes. "You boys best get moving," Papa smurf said, seeing himself out." The funeral's in two hours."

"Thank you, Papa smurf." Farmer said, taking my hand for reassurance, "We'll see y' then."

Papa smurf closed the door behind him. I sighed a little and rested my head on Farmer's chest. "I suppose we ought to be getting ready." I said softly, finishing the last of my tea and putting the cup on the desk to my left.

Farmer nodded and released my hand. He made his way quietly to the dresser, and opened one of the bottom drawers. He fished out a pair of black formal dress pants and put them on while I put more concealer over the darker-growing circles underneath my eyes. I watched as Farmer was having some trouble keeping his formal pants up at his waist. "Dad gum," he said marveling at how big the trousers were on him, "Ah s'pose Ah've lost a bitta weight."

I swiveled on my stool, looking at him from top to bottom. Now that I looked at him again, he did look thin. So thin he looked unhealthy. Like any meat that had ever been on his bones was wasting away. Almost like one of the pictures in one of Papa smurf's medical books describing some form of eating disorder, but not quite as bony. "Mind if Ah wear a pair'a your old ones, Van'ty?" he said, rooting through the drawer.

"No," I said, feeling worried, "but I think they'd be a bit too small for you."

He found a pair of my old ones that had gotten too big. He tried them on. "They fit jus' fine, shugah."

That's when the worry really set in. Farmer NEVER could fit in my clothing. Smurf, he couldn't even wear one of my hats without getting a headache! Something was seriously wrong… "Shugah. Ah know tha' look," Farmer said, cracking a smile. "Ah'll talk t' Pa' smurf later, after th' funeral."

That smurf can read me like a book. I swiveled back around and continued with my skin- care regimen. Farmer went in the kitchen area to have a cup of the tea I made earlier. I changed into a pair of loose fitting black slacks. Goodness, I thought, both of us have lost a bit of weight...

I shook the thought and tied my tie facing the mirror. Farmer reentered the room with his cup, and went back to looking through the drawers for his tie. Once he finally did find it, he draped it over his neck and tried to get it to tie right. "Aww, smurf it all! This dad gum tie!" he said, fighting with the tie.

I smiled a little at my lover's expense and turned him towards me, "Oh, Farmer. Here, let me help you with that." I said, taking the fabric in my hands. "I swear, what would you do without me?"

He smiled a little, giving a little eye roll. I tied his tie for him. "There. Looking good and smurfy, honey." I said with a sly smile, "Personally, I think you look better without the tie…."I added with a wink "Or trousers for that matter."

He smiled seductively, wrapping his arms around my slim body and playing with the waistband on my pants a little bit. "Aw you," he said, still smiling his sensual smile. "Ah cain't go walkin' round in m' smurfday suit ALL th' time."

I pouted and snapped my fingers a little in false(somewhat, anyway) disappointment. "Darn," I said.

Farmer looked over to the clock. "We'd betta' go, shugah." He said, holding my coat for me. "Th' funeral starts soon."

I nodded a little, still feeling nervous about the whole ordeal. "You ready?" He asked, offering me his arm.

I looped my arm with his and sighed slightly. "As ready as I'll ever be, darling." I replied

The two of us walked to the village square, and found ourselves two seats in the far back. Sassette and the other smurflings sat by Farmer and I. Sassette climbed up onto Farmer's lap and sat on his knee. Nat sat right next to her, offering her a friendly same-sized shoulder to cry on. Snappy and Slouchy sat next to Nat, looking pouty and in denial about the unsmurfy occurrences. Papa smurf silenced the chattering smurfs and spoke a eulogy for Camper. Even when others surrounding me were practically bawling their eyes out, I stayed dry eyed throughout most of the service. Certainly not happy, but dry- eyed never the less. It wasn't until Tracker stood to give his eulogy that I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. Tracker looked positively devastated by the loss. It was a wonder he was still standing. "C-C-Camper Smurf was my best friend…" He said, already fighting tears, "He's been my best friend since we were smurflings. I've known him my whole life… there was nothing he loved more in the world than to go out on nature hikes… The world was his tent… The sky was his sleeping bag-"

Tracker's body hitched slightly as he paused to collect himself, "I-I-I'm sorry… I-I-I'm really no good at these things," he admitted, "they always say you'd rather be in the casket than smurfing the eulogy."

He bit his lip and wiped away the excess water from his eyes. "Camper was smurfed with a large hole in his heart. Medically, there was nothing anyone could do to help him. Everysmurf thought he wouldn't even make it through his first night." Tracker said, closing his eyes in memory of his fallen friend, "He died of a cardiac arrest at 230 years old… that's longer than anyone ever thought he would live."

He slumped over the podium for a moment, bawling for all his worth. Papa smurf rubbed his back reassuringly, whispering words of condolence in his ear. Tracker straightened up again, wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Camper was my best friend… smurf. He was the greatest friend anysmurf ever could've asked for. I- I take comfort in knowing that he's not in anymore pain…. And that nothing else can hurt him now."

Once the funeral was over, it was only the polite thing to do to offer condolences to Camper's friends. As much as I hated Camper, his friends sure didn't. Farmer and I moved down the line, until at the very end waited a grief- stricken Tracker smurf. I forced myself to look into his eyes. What usually held unadulterated hatred for me was filled with a sense of loss and emptiness. I looked away from his gaze, not out of fear, but out of remorse. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more to save him, Tracker." I said, at last, "even if you two've made my life a living Hell…. No one deserves to die like Camper did…"

Tracker mouthed a silent thank you and shut his eyes. Farmer and I waited for a while after the burial before we finally approached Papa smurf in his lab. His face was hidden and his nose was smurfed in a book. "Pa' Smurf?" Farmer said softly.

Papa smurf looked up for a moment, sorrow in his features. "Ah know this might not be th' best time with all tha's happened t'day," Farmer said, "Ah ain't been feelin' too good las' couplea' days… Van'ty insisted Ah come an' talk t'ya. If you could jus' tell this boy Ah'm FINE, tha' it's just some little flu er somethin', we'll get outta yo' beard."

Papa smurf blinked a little and stood from his chair and got a stool. "here, sit, Farmer." He said, patting the stool and sitting across from it.

Farmer took a seat facing Papa smurf. Papa smurf put his hands on Farmer's neck, feeling the glands in his throat. "Hmmm… the glands in your throat are a bit swollen…" He said, feeling around his armpits. "armpits, too. Hmm…

"Cough, high fever, headaches, night sweats, and a rash on his lower back." I answered for him, checking my reflection.

Papa smurf looked thoughtful for a moment, then rifled through his medical bag for a stethoscope. He put the ends in his ears and put the other on Farmer's chest. "Cough."

Farmer did. It sounded wetter and more forceful than before. Papa smurf nodded a little, mainly to himself. Then he got a thermometer out of his bag and held it under Farmer's tongue for a few minutes. He checked the mercury. "Well, the fever's gone down significantly," Papa smurf said aloud, writing more on a paper attached to a thin wood clipboard.

He cleared a table and gestured to it, inviting Farmer to sit. Farmer rose from the stool and laid face down on the table. He unclipped his overalls and pulled them down just past his lower back, right at the base of his tail. The rash had gotten bigger and redder. Papa smurf carefully examined the inflammation. He went through the average questions, does it itch? How long have you had it? Etc, Etc. and had Farmer roll over on his back.

Papa smurf felt around his diaphragm and his sides, examining his inner organs. He gingerly felt around Farmer's ribs, and examined the long, light blue scar that ran down his chest. "Have your ribs been bothering you at all?" Papa smurf asked, gently feeling just below his heart.

Farmer shook his head. "No, not really… they ain't bothered me since th' surg'ry." He replied, shuddering in memory of the day.

He was terrified of surgery. Ever since Cobbler almost died from having too strong of an anesthetic he's had a pathological fear of surgery. Farmer's tractor had nearly crushed him, leaving him with three broken ribs and a punctured lung. Papa smurf said that he had to undergo an emergency surgery, and poor Farmer was in tears begging for another option. That was a rough day for everyone involved.

Papa smurf tested his reflexes and examined his ears, nose and throat. Once he was done, he returned to his desk and flipped a page or two through his book. He muttered to himself as he mixed a potion, and poured it into a vial. He opened a cabinet and muttered as he read the labels on each jar. He selected a large, round one with a greenish fluid inside. Farmer sat up and clipped his overalls again, yawning from lack of sleep. Papa smurf gave him the vial and the jar. "My diagnosis is an unsmurfy case of summer allergies and a 'rutabaga rash'" he chortled at his own little joke, "Here, the potion should help ease the symptoms. Rub this ointment on the rash before you go to bed and it should be just fine by the morning."

I was feeling much better now, hearing it was just allergies instead of some deadly ailment. "Thank you so much for seeing us, Papa smurf." I said, smiling and giving him a goodbye hug. "Sorry if it was any trouble."

Papa smurf shook his head with a smile and dismissed me with a slight wave of his hand. "It was no trouble at all, Vanity." He said, returning to his books, "In fact, I think almost everysmurf is about due for a physical and flu vaccination."

Farmer rolled his eye slightly as Papa smurf mixed the flu vaccination potion. No smurf likes shots. Papa smurf administered the vaccination and sent us on our way. Farmer was mumbling a little under his breath and rubbing his arm when we walked out. "Oh, smurf up, you." I said, giving him a playful nudge, "at least you got it out of the way now instead of dreading it later. And I can rest a little easier knowing its just allergies keeping you up, not some deadly mysterious disease."

Farmer stopped his grumbling and nudged me back with his hip, "Ah TOLD you it was nothin' t' worry 'bout, shugah." he assured me, putting his hand on my hip. "Ah'm FINE. Ah got lots more years t' spend with you."

I smiled and intertwined our fingers. "Yeah… We've got all the time in the world together."

How naive I was.