Nine: The Origin of Schmerzmann
"Whoah!" {THUD!} Kurti moaned, but stifled the noise. He couldn't make
a fuss. He was a *big* boy, now. A big brother. What sort of a big
brother would he be if he just cried every time he hurt himself? Kurti
choked back tears. He had to be a good big brother.
But it *HURT*!
A whimper escaped his throat and Kurti felt ashamed. Some big brother.
He couldn't even be brave.
Papa came out and found him lying on the ground. "What is it, Kurti?
What's wrong?"
Kurti shook his head, clenching his teeth shut. The movement hurt him
more and another whimper got out. What a big baby.
Papa picked him up and bought him in, sitting Kurti on a comfy chair.
"Where does it hurt, love?"
Kurti held back tears. He didn't want to be a wimp. He wanted to be
brave.
"Won't you show Papa?"
Kurti shook his head. He had to be really, *really* brave. So he'd be
a *good* big brother.
"What's the matter?" said Mama.
Oh, *no*... It had all gone *wrong*. Kurti let his tears out, but
tried his best not to wail. All in all, he was a complete failure.
"Kurti hurt himself," said Papa. "But I can't get a peep out of him
about how or where."
"Ach..." said Mama, and vanished into Kurti's room. She came back with
his favourite teddy, Coco. "Now, Kurti. We'd like to help Coco, because
*he* hurt himself just like you. We need to know where the boo-boo is."
Kurt looked at the soft toy. True, Coco was covered in fur, but he
didn't have a tail and he wasn't blue... "He's not like me," Kurti
managed.
Mama sighed. "So much for that idea, yes? Let's have a look at you.
Let's see." Mama's gentle hands lifted his head, uncurled him from his
huddle. "There. He's bleeding."
Kurti only looked once. *Yuck*!
Papa came with the medical kit. "Oooohhh... that looks *bad*. Our poor
little boy. Why didn't you *say* anything?"
Kurti just felt ashamed. His first go at being a strong, brave, big
brother and he'd *failed*.
"Very full hands," Papa muttered, cleaning out the bad scrape on
Kurti's arm.
"They're both asleep," said Johannes as he stumbled into their
bedroom. Whoever said kids went to bed early had obviously never known
Kurti. "Well, love? Is this new silent treatment a phase or a character
flaw?"
Astrid continued knitting. Whatever it was, it was almost the same hue
as Kurti's fur. "Whichever it is, I plan to be prepared."
"With a sock?"
Astrid smiled. "I'm knitting a doll, and it's going to be just like
our Kurti."
"*Ah*," said Johannes. "It's probably a good idea. He's going to
realise he's different from everyone else, sometime soon. I'm afraid
it'll break his heart."
"So pretend company is a good idea?"
"It'll remind him that we love him, no matter what."
Johannes settled next to his beloved. "I bow to your supreme knowledge
of child psychology, my Lady."
Astrid kept knitting. "Flatterer."
"Whoah!" {THUD!} Kurti moaned, but stifled the noise. He couldn't make
a fuss. He was a *big* boy, now. A big brother. What sort of a big
brother would he be if he just cried every time he hurt himself? Kurti
choked back tears. He had to be a good big brother.
But it *HURT*!
A whimper escaped his throat and Kurti felt ashamed. Some big brother.
He couldn't even be brave.
Papa came out and found him lying on the ground. "What is it, Kurti?
What's wrong?"
Kurti shook his head, clenching his teeth shut. The movement hurt him
more and another whimper got out. What a big baby.
Papa picked him up and bought him in, sitting Kurti on a comfy chair.
"Where does it hurt, love?"
Kurti held back tears. He didn't want to be a wimp. He wanted to be
brave.
"Won't you show Papa?"
Kurti shook his head. He had to be really, *really* brave. So he'd be
a *good* big brother.
"What's the matter?" said Mama.
Oh, *no*... It had all gone *wrong*. Kurti let his tears out, but
tried his best not to wail. All in all, he was a complete failure.
"Kurti hurt himself," said Papa. "But I can't get a peep out of him
about how or where."
"Ach..." said Mama, and vanished into Kurti's room. She came back with
his favourite teddy, Coco. "Now, Kurti. We'd like to help Coco, because
*he* hurt himself just like you. We need to know where the boo-boo is."
Kurt looked at the soft toy. True, Coco was covered in fur, but he
didn't have a tail and he wasn't blue... "He's not like me," Kurti
managed.
Mama sighed. "So much for that idea, yes? Let's have a look at you.
Let's see." Mama's gentle hands lifted his head, uncurled him from his
huddle. "There. He's bleeding."
Kurti only looked once. *Yuck*!
Papa came with the medical kit. "Oooohhh... that looks *bad*. Our poor
little boy. Why didn't you *say* anything?"
Kurti just felt ashamed. His first go at being a strong, brave, big
brother and he'd *failed*.
"Very full hands," Papa muttered, cleaning out the bad scrape on
Kurti's arm.
"They're both asleep," said Johannes as he stumbled into their
bedroom. Whoever said kids went to bed early had obviously never known
Kurti. "Well, love? Is this new silent treatment a phase or a character
flaw?"
Astrid continued knitting. Whatever it was, it was almost the same hue
as Kurti's fur. "Whichever it is, I plan to be prepared."
"With a sock?"
Astrid smiled. "I'm knitting a doll, and it's going to be just like
our Kurti."
"*Ah*," said Johannes. "It's probably a good idea. He's going to
realise he's different from everyone else, sometime soon. I'm afraid
it'll break his heart."
"So pretend company is a good idea?"
"It'll remind him that we love him, no matter what."
Johannes settled next to his beloved. "I bow to your supreme knowledge
of child psychology, my Lady."
Astrid kept knitting. "Flatterer."