A Wandering Heart
Part 10: Left Turn at Albuquerque
by Kim McFarland

Fraggles bustled about in one of the many large, open caverns that surrounded the colony Janken was visiting. Unlike most caves, these were floored with dirt instead of stone, and plants grew in orderly rows in the soil rather than clinging to the walls, sprouting out of crevices, or taking root wherever else their seeds happened to land.

This Fraggle colony was deep under the earth, so deep that they had never seen the surface world. Janken had tried to describe it, but they could not believe that the stone that formed their world ended somewhere. What was on the other side? Outer space. And on the other side of that? He had tried to describe the sky. They had laughed, believing he was making it all up. After a while he had stopped trying, because, well, what right did he have to go around telling them they were wrong?

Only one Fraggle halfway believed Janken. Clio found it as outlandish a tale as the rest did, but as long as she could remember Cantus had been telling her about other, very different colonies. If Janken told her about the same things that Cantus did, there must be some truth in their stories. She could accept that there were places and people that she did not understand.

Because as far as this colony was concerned there was no surface world, there also were no Gorgs. And if there were no Gorgs to grow food, then the Fraggles had to find their own. Before Traveling Matt had discovered the path to the Gorgs' world the denizens of Fraggle Rock had lived on mushrooms and Doozer sticks. These Fraggles had found a different way to feed themselves: they had created gardens of their own.

As Janken emptied a pail of water into a cistern in the center of the cave, he thought that these gardens represented a huge amount of labor. All the soil had to be brought in from somewhere. They could not run the nearby stream through it to water the plants because that would wash the dirt away, so they had to carry water in. And the Fraggles tended the plants themselves, keeping them healthy and safe from creatures that also wanted to eat them. Because of this, everyone in this colony had at least a five-hour work week. According to Janken's count, that was; the Fraggles did not even consider this to be a job! For them it was simply a part of life: the garden fed everybody, so everybody did their part to tend it. A few days working here, weeding and watering and keeping pests away, had given Janken new respect for the Gorgs.

Time spent in the gardens was pleasant enough because there were always other Fraggles to talk to while tending the plants and fungi. Many of them liked to ask him about his home colony, even if they thought some of his tales were fiction, and they were happy to tell him about the way they lived. He often put in overtime simply because he enjoyed the company.

These Fraggles had many strange ways, but, he thought, they were not nearly as strange as they first seemed. The gardens made sense once you understood that these Fraggles couldn't just go out and gather food. He was learning about other customs, many of which made sense once you understood the logic behind them. Like the ceremony for naming babies. The beginning of life—which, here, was birth rather than the Midsummer Festival—was the most magical, precious event in their lives, so they honored every birth. They waited until a baby's eyes were open because newly-born Fraggles—and, often, their mothers—were too delicate to make such a fuss over. They dunked them in water because water was essential to all life, and, of course, because Fraggles love to swim.

He had been surprised to learn that these Fraggles didn't celebrate many of the things that his colony did. Of course they didn't greet the Fraggle Moon because they couldn't see the sky. What shocked Janken was finding out that they did not celebrate the Festival of the Bells. They treated that all-important day as any other! They found the idea of celebrating the bitterest part of winter ridiculous. He had been appalled at first. After a while he had reasoned out that his clan must have the responsibility of reawakening the Great Bell because they were closer to the heart of the Rock.

Janken finished his task—filling the cistern for those whose task it was to water the plants—and checked around to see if anyone needed help. That was rarely the case, as these Fraggles took Doozer-like pride in maintaining their gardens. They enjoyed it, so how could he criticize it? Well, okay, it did have one major shortcoming: they did not grow radishes. They had never heard of radishes! He vowed to himself that if it was in any way possible he would bring them some radish seeds. Fraggles deserved radishes.

His feet were muddy. Fortunately, the stream he had gotten the water from was also the stream that everyone swam in to wash off after gardening, and it was downstream from the colony's pool so they did not have to worry about fouling the drinking water. He took off his sweater—these Fraggles always took off their clothes to swim—and jumped in.

Clio looked up when Janken came in, still damp. "Hi."

"Hi. What's going on?" he asked, putting his sweater down on his bed. This was her cave; she had invited him to stay with her after the Minstrels had moved on. He'd explained to her that he was single-sexed, and not for women, and they had agreed that that would not be a problem. They had become good friends since. Life was a lot easier if you didn't complicate it with romance, Janken told himself only half-jokingly.

She said, "They're organizing a wall race. Get from one side of the Central Cavern to the other without touching the floor. I'm going to enter. How about you?"

"I'll watch," he told her.

"Fair enough. It's going to be tomorrow morning, right after the first meal. They're marking the course now so nobody comes too close to the water stalactites."

He nodded. "My Aunt Red would love a race like that. She loves any race, really. She's competitive."

"We've got a few like that."

"Yeah. I wish they could meet Red. Pit them against each other and they'd break all the records or go crazy trying," he said with a grin as he opened his backpack and took out the map he had been drawing.

She came over and looked over his shoulder. He was studying a part of the map that was only halfway drawn. She pointed to one of the exits and said, "There's a passage over here that loops around and re-enters the Central Cavern here."

"Oh? Thanks, I'll look for that."

"I don't get why you want to map this place. Everyone knows the colony," she told him.

"Yeah, but the colony's only the beginning. Who knows what's outside that?"

"Who needs to know?" she replied.

"Don't you want to know what's around you?"

"Not especially."

"Well... I guess that's just a difference between us. Um... actually, not many of the Fraggles in my colony go far from home either, but my family's always been into exploring. Sometimes you find dangers, but sometimes you find wonderful things too."

"Well, if you think it's worth the risk," she said.

He smiled. "I can take care of myself. I was trained by some pretty good explorers. And wouldn't it be funny if there was another Fraggle colony nearby and you never knew about them because neither of you ever explored far enough?"

She drew in a breath to speak, then paused to consider. "I don't think there is, but I know that there are lots of colonies in the caves. Cantus has told me about them."

"I've seen a few. There are even colonies of people who aren't Fraggles," he told her.

"That's hard to believe..."

"I guess it is," he said. These Fraggles lived alone. They had never heard of Gorgs, and no Doozers had ever been seen here either. Was it because they didn't grow radishes? The only people who weren't Fraggles that these people had seen were Balsam, Murray, Brool, and Reed of the Minstrels, and you don't tend to think of people as a species if you only ever see one of their kind. "It's really neat, meeting a new kind of people and finding out about them. It's like making a new friend."

"You do that easily enough," she said with a warm smile.

He smiled back. It was true enough. "At first I thought it was weird that you—this colony—live so differently, but, you know, it's not really so different. It's neat."

"Maybe that'll be your job," she told him. "Visiting other colonies and learning about them."

He considered. "Maybe. I'd like that. But the colonies I've visited with the Minstrels are a day's walk from each other at least, and I couldn't do that alone. I've seen creatures in the caves that could eat me in three bites."

"Maybe you'll find other Fraggles like you, then."

"How about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah," Janken said earnestly. "You're the only Fraggle here who asks me about my colony and actually believes some of what I say. Why don't you do some exploring too? See things instead of just listening to me talk about them."

She laid a hand on Janken's arm. "Jan, it's one thing to hear about exploring, and another to go out in the caves and risk being buried by cave-ins and mauled by animals and falling down bottomless pits and starving out in the middle of nowhere. You make the stories, and I'll listen to them. All right?"

"All right," he replied. He wasn't disappointed; she had declined several times before. These Fraggles never willingly left the safety of their colony, and they did not recognize anything as edible if it did not grow in their gardens. Still, she listened to his stories eagerly, and he kept hoping that someday she would change her mind.

He folded the map up and put it with some wax pencils in a waterproof outside pocket of his backpack. While chatting with Clio he packed his exploring equipment. He planned to be gone most of the day, so he packed three meals' worth of food and water, just to be safe. Exploring could be strenuous work, and it was just silly to have to turn back due to lack of fuel. He told her, "I'll be back tonight. Maybe after Last Meal."

"Be careful," she told him.

"Always am," he replied, and left.

Janken went to the last cave he had explored. It was a small, rough room, with lots of gravel on the ground and little in the way of plant life. From the look and smell of it, there had been a small rockslide here recently. He drew a "caution" symbol on his map.

There was only one tunnel leading out, and he took it. The passage turned and twisted like a vine, making it difficult to map, but it did not fork. He added it to the map, using the length of his steps to measure distance.

He emerged into a larger cave. The air was clean, and there were some scents that seemed familiar, but he could not identify them. They were not plant or animal smells. He paused, breathing deeply, trying to puzzle out the odors, but they were too faint.

Holding his map and pencil, he looked around the room. The ceiling was maybe three Fraggle heights at the tallest point. The walls were covered in moss and plants, and he saw no fallen dirt or gravel. The rock was stable here, then. Only one tunnel led out, and that was little more than a crack in a unusually flat cave wall. Curious, he knelt down and poked his head into the crack. It was silent; there was no animal lairing here. And there was no animal smell, but the strange odor was stronger. Instinct was not warning him about the smell, and he trusted his instinct.

Papa Gobo, I wish you could see me now, Janken thought as he crawled through the tunnelet. Gobo had explored most of Fraggle Rock. Most, but not all. He was never more excited than on those rare occasions when he found some new, unexplored region. If Gobo were here they could explore it together. Maybe someday Gobo could come here. If the Minstrels could walk this far, certainly several well-equipped explorers could make the journey. It would be worth it, he thought, to put the two colonies in contact with each other. And bring radish seeds.

It was a tight squeeze, and for a while Janken worried that he would have to back out, then take off his pack and try again, pushing the pack in front of himself. But then he hit another unnaturally flat wall, as if a block of slate had fallen in front of the tunnel mouth. It was made of the strange-smelling material, and it gave a little when he pushed against it. He pushed harder, bracing his feet against the tunnel walls for leverage, and, alert for the sounds or puffs of dust that warned of an impending rockslide, managed to move it far enough to squeeze around it. Before going out he listened for the sounds of rocks shifting, and heard nothing.

He wriggled past the obstruction and into another room. This one was almost completely dark, in contrast to the caves he had just left. He glanced back down the tunnel. He could see the light of the mossy room behind this one. And there was a straight line of light along the ground on the opposite side of the room.

The ground was perfectly flat, he noticed, and covered with something like very tough moss. He felt around, and found more of the odd-smelling, flat objects. Now he realized where he was. This was Outer Space. He had found a new link to the surface world.

He went over to the light. It was right along the ground, so he couldn't see under it. When he felt around along the wall he found a seam, then a round metal handle. Standing on tiptoes, he reached up and tried to turn the handle. It would not budge.

Sometimes doors that were fastened shut had buttons to press or turn to open them. He explored the handle with his hands. In the center was no knob to release the door, just one of those slightly-irregular slots that meant that you had to have a special piece of metal to open them. The only piece of metal he had that could open this was his pickaxe, and the creatures living in Outer Space were likely to take a dim view of him hacking through the caves they built. They weren't Doozers, after all.

Now that his eyes were adjusting to the dark, he could see that this was a small room full of squares and rectangles—boxes—on shelves and piled on top of each other. They kept things here that they weren't using at the time. He listened at the door, and heard only the faintest murmur of sound from the other side. There were no voices or other sounds he recognized.

It must be night here, he decided. He would come back later, and hopefully the Silly Creatures would open the door for him. In the meantime he would go back and mark this path to Outer Space on his map. He stuck his head into the tunnel and was about to begin crawling forward when he heard a rustling and smelled a scent that had not been there before. It was the reek of a carnivore, and it was intense. It smelled big and very near.

Quickly he pulled his head back into the room. He was not going to crawl back there, possibly into the mouth of something large and hungry! He was glad he had found this room; if the creature had followed him into the mossy room and cornered him there, he would have been in trouble. But he must be safe here, because there was no way the whatever-it-was could fit through a passage that was snug for a Fraggle. He'd wait it out. He took off his backpack again, searched within it by touch, and found a small box. He opened the box, took out a sandwich, and began to eat.

Soon, despite Janken's excitement at finding this room and fear of the carnivore blocking him off from the caves, the dark began to get to him. Deprived of light, Fraggles soon fall asleep. Janken wished he had brought along his bedroll. But the room was warm and safe, so after finishing his sandwich and drinking from his canteen he lay down and, using his pack as a pillow, fell asleep.

Fraggle Rock and all characters except Janken and Clio are copyright © The Jim Henson Company. All copyrighted properties are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken, Clio, and the overall story are copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9 at aol dot com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.