Layer 3: A Booting Revisited

Fiona's jaw dropped open. She suspected the reason for the
discrepancy between her husband's story of his parents' death and
the appearance of Groyl and Moyre on their doorstep would be an odd
one, but Shrek's announcement that they were 'dead' to him chilled
her. As he stared at his parents, he looked shocked and angry and
sad and ... somehow insecure ... all at once.

Then Fiona looked back at his parents. Groyl had an expression
somewhere between anger and disappointment. Moyre simply looked
hurt. As she beheld her son her eyes started to glisten. Fiona
began to feel sympathy for her for the first time.

"Shreklecheh!" Moyre said, "How can ye speak like that about your
own mother and father?"

"It wouldn't be easy," Shrek said, sounding more pained than angry
now, "except for the booting. And ... just call me 'Shrek', Mom."

"Why did ye shorten it to 'Shrek', anyway?" she asked.
"'Shreklecheh' is a good name. It was my father's name."

"'Shrek' is who I am now, Mom. You'd have learned that ... but for
the booting."

"Maybe we should go," Groyl said. Like Shrek, his voice held a
mixture of pain and anger, but in the elder's case the anger seemed
to be winning sway.

"Maybe ye should," Shrek agreed curtly.

Groyl's jaw set and his eyes narrowed. "Moyre," he said between
clenched teeth, "let's go. He's not the maturity yet t'be
reconciled." Groyl then reached over, took his wife's arm, and
began leading her toward the door. Shrek began to step aside to
give them room to leave.

"WHOA!" Fiona said, stepping in front of the departing couple before
they reached the door. "Please wait!" she beseeched Groyl. The
older ogre looked down at her wordlessly, then over at Shrek.
Groyl's face still had an angry set, and Fiona could see his jaw
clenching and unclenching, but he gave a brief nod and did not
advance any further.

"Shrek," Fiona then said, turning to her husband, "these ARE your
parents, aren't they?"

"Aye," Shrek replied simply.

"And they aren't REALLY dead. I mean, this isn't a Farquaad thing,
right?" she asked.

Shrek sighed, then nodded. "Right," he said.

"Then I don't understand," Fiona said. "Why are you acting this
way?"

"It's ... it's hard t'explain, Fi," Shrek said. Although his anger
was receding, he seemed to be struggling with considerably more than
just finding words. "This isn't like the deal with YOUR folks. Not
at all. Ye don't need t'feel obliged t'step into this. This
doesn't affect US."

"Oh, Shrek," Fiona said, approaching her husband, her tone
softening, "of COURSE this affects 'us'. These are your PARENTS.
Just as our marriage made you a part of MY family, it made me a part
of YOURS." Then Fiona had a terrible thought, and added timidly,
"Unless ... you're ashamed of me."

"ASHAMED?" Shrek gasped. "Good grief, Fi, that's the exact OPPOSITE
of how I feel t'have ye as my wife! I've never been prouder of
anything in my life than when ye married me!"

Fiona gave her husband a brief, loving smile, and then implored,
"Then what IS it? What is the ... the 'deal', as you put it ...
between you?"

Shrek sighed again, straightened up, and looked over at his parents.
His face took on an expression of wounded pride and his own jaw set
stubbornly. Fiona looked back over to Groyl, and except for the age
and attire difference, thought she might have been looking at
Shrek's reflection. Both males remained obstinately silent. Moyre,
for her part, was looking down, and every so often seemed to be
sobbing.

Growing frustrated, Fiona thought back on what she'd heard so far,
then turned back to Shrek. "Does it have to do with this ...
'booting' you mentioned?"

Shrek gave a mirthless chuckle, then said, "Aye."

"So ... what IS that?" she asked.

Shrek nodded over to his parents. "Ask them," he said. "It was
THEIR idea."

Fiona turned back to his parents as Groyl said, "Shrek, that's not
fair!"

Moyre looked up then, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. "It was a
TRADITION, Shreklecheh! It has been done to ogres for generations!"

"But it was done to ME just ONCE," Shrek said.

"Your grandfather did it to me, Shrek," Groyl said. "I got over
it."

"Didja, Dad?" Shrek retorted. "Well, good for you! I guess that
makes ye a better ogre than me, doesn't it?"

"I didn't say that!" Groyl growled.

"So forgive and forget, is that it?" Shrek asked.

"No," Groyl said, "we take the lessons learned, reconcile, and move
on with our lives. That's the way it's done, Shrek. Ye don't
forgive us ... because we've done nothing t'cause us to NEED your
forgiveness."

There was a pause while father and son glared at each other. Fiona
took this time to ask, "So would someone PLEASE explain to me what a
'booting' is?"

"Oh, Fiona," Moyre said irritably, "this doesn't concern you."

"Uh, EXCUSE me?" Fiona said, turning toward the ogress and allowing
some of her temper to have reign for the first time against her
mother-in-law. "I think that anything that affects SHREK so deeply
might just be of interest to ME. Isn't that part of the role of a
good WIFE?"

"That's not what I mean," Moyre said impatiently. "It's just that
it's a tradition among ... our kind."

"She's right, Fi," Shrek agreed, "ye wouldn't understand. It's
an --" Shrek then cut himself off, realizing that he'd probably
said too much already.

As Shrek suspected, it was too late. Fiona glared at her husband,
the embarrassments and frustrations and slights of the day finally
starting to overcome her ability to control her temper. "Go ahead,
Shrek," she challenged. "Go on! SAY IT!"

"OKAY!" he shot back, the situation getting the better of him as
well. "It's an OGRE thing!"

"Well, SWEETHEART, I hate to have to point out that you and your
parents aren't the ONLY ones around here with green skin and long
ears!" Fiona retorted. "And not only have I now been an ogre for
over half my life, but need I remind you that, when presented with
an alternative, I readopted this form by CHOICE?!"

"So are ye COMPLAINING about that, now?" Shrek asked.

"No, not at all!" Fiona responded. "What I AM 'complaining' about
is that you don't show me the respect I deserve by sharing with me
what it means to BE an ogre in those areas where I might have missed
something due to my ... special upbringing. Because, for better or
worse, dear, I AM 'an ogre thing'!"

"Okay, fine, you're right!" Shrek conceded with agitated reluctance.
Then he looked into his wife's deep blue eyes, both fiery and
earnestly yearning now, and he felt his anger dissolve like
gingerbread in a bowl of hot milk. "You're right, Fi," he repeated,
but this time with true remorse. "I'm sorry. I really am. To
answer your question, a 'booting' is when the parents of an ogre
child get together and decide to send their wee one out into the
world on his own, without support of any kind, to make due as best
he can."

"What?!" Fiona gasped.

"Not CHILD, Shrek!" Moyre said, hurt in her voice. "You were a MAN!"

"I had just barely started puberty!" Shrek shot back, his own voice
betraying more than a hint of pain.

"Oh, grow up, Shrek," Groyl snapped. "We wouldn't have done it if
we didn't feel ye were ready for it. An ogre at that age is already
bigger and scarier than anything he might happen against in the
forest. We'd just taught ye all we could, your mother and I, for
surviving in this world. It was time for ye t'go and hue out your
own niche in life. Ye were young and cocky and surly -- and
independent. To have kept ye at home under mommy and daddy's care
any longer woulda taken the edge off those traits, and an ogre NEEDS
t'keep those traits sharp to survive."

"Listen to your father, Shreklecheh!" Moyre injected. "We did it
for your own good! It was time for ye t'find your own destiny!"

"Oh, my!" Fiona gasped, then covered her mouth with her cupped hands
as her eyes widened in recognition.

Moyre rolled her eyes and turned towards Fiona. "I know," Moyre
said. "It upsets human sensibilities. YOU think kids oughtta be
allowed to hang around the parents' apron strings until --"

"No, no, that's not it!" Fiona said. Then her eyes locked with
Shrek's, and her husband automatically seemed able to read her
thoughts.

"It's not the same, Fi," he said.

"No, but it's awfully darned close!" she replied.

"What are ye two TALKING about?" Moyre asked, confused.

An ironic smile played at the corner of Fiona's mouth. "It seems
that I had my own 'booting'," she said.

"What?!" Moyre repeated.

"I was about that same age when MY parents sent me away from MY
home," Fiona replied, looking at her mother-in-law. "For MY good.
To find MY destiny. Or maybe ..." Fiona's eyes drifted back to
Shrek. "... it was for my destiny to find ME."

Shrek saw Fiona's eyes start to assume that dreamy quality, and he
rolled his own. "Yeah, well, just one wee bit of difference, dear,"
Shrek noted. "Your parents locked you in a castle where ye were
watched over by Dragon. All security and no freedom. Me, I had
freedom, alright, but ..." Shrek stopped, frowned, heaved a great
sigh, and said, "Never mind." He then looked around to see three
pairs of eyes staring silently, expectantly at him. He just shook
his head, turned, and walked over to the fireplace where he braced
his arms against the mantle and stared into the flames. After a
moment, however, Fiona wandered over and placed her hand gently on
his shoulder.

"And you were frightened," she said softly.

"I didn't say that," he countered defensively.

"Shrek ... it's okay," Fiona whispered.

Shrek sighed. "At first it was fine," he said, his voice mellowing.
"It was great, actually. I was looking forward to it. They told me
I was all grown now and it was time t'go off on my own and find my
destiny. So I marched off into the woods, thinking how free I was
and how I was really gonna do my share of damage in this old world.
So I did everything from scaring off villagers I chanced upon on
the trails to wilting flowers with my stench. Even got bit by a
snake once, and the SNAKE died! Yeah, I was young and full 'o spit.
A regular king of my domain. But ... well, the domain got lonely
after a while. I found out that finding my 'destiny' was taking
longer and was a bit harder than certain storybooks would have ye
believe. So I tried doing what I'd been told not to. I tried going
back home. But they were gone."

"We had to, Shrek," Groyl said, stepping forward, his own voice
softer. "It's part of the --"

"Tradition, yes Dad, I get it," Shrek finished for him. "To prevent
just that type of thing from happening. I understand that, here" --
Shrek tapped his head -- "but it still hurt down HERE" -- Shrek
tapped his chest.

"Oh, Shreklecheh," Moyre said, also stepping forward, "if ye only
knew -- ye were never alone --"

"MOYRE!" Groyl barked at his wife. Moyre quickly bit her lip and
looked down.

But it was too late not to intrigue Shrek. He turned back around
now and looked straight at his parents. "What?" he asked.

The older ogres tried to avoid Shrek's eyes.

"Tell me!" Shrek said, his voice taking on more urgency. Then,
after a moment, he added in a gentler but even more urgent tone,
"Please!"

Groyl sighed deeply, gave his wife one more reproachful glance, then
looked Shrek directly in the eye. "T'be honest, Son, not ...
everything ... went according to tradition."

Shrek's eyes narrowed. "What d'ye mean?" he asked.

Groyl hesitated, but then Moyre looked up at Shrek and spoke. "Your
father followed ye, Shrek."

"What?!" Shrek asked, confused.

"He followed ye when ye left our home," she continued. "Camped
near where you camped, kept an eye on you from a distance, t'make
sure ye were doing all right."

"But I never saw --" Shrek began.

"Ye weren't supposed to," Groyl said. "I was older and had more
experience, Shrek. I knew how t'keep stealthy."

"So how long were ye watching over me?" Shrek asked, astounded.

Groyl gave a self-conscious shrug. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe
a couple of weeks --"

"Six months," Moyre said, "until he was sure ye'd be okay. I
wanted t'be there, too, but he said it'd be tempting fate, having us
both trying t'keep around ye secretly. He was your guardian angel,
Shrek. He --"

"That's enough, Moyre," Groyl said quietly, then looked away,
blushing, as Shrek's jaw dropped.

"Dad," Shrek said, "ye did that ... for me?"

Groyl shrugged again and looked back up at Shrek. "Ye were my son,"
he said. "It was my ... duty."

"But ye broke the rules," Shrek noted, and started to smile.

"Hey!" Groyl said, "What good ogre DOESN'T break some rules every
now and then?"

Groyl and Shrek beheld each other silently for a few seconds more.

"Dad ..." Shrek ventured tentatively.

"Yes ... Shrek?" Groyl asked.

"I ... " Shrek began, then paused, then lunged at his father, and
before the surprised elder ogre could react he found himself trapped
in a huge bear hug. "I love ye, Dad," Shrek said quietly, "and I've
missed ye ... so much."

"Son," Groyl said, his voice uncertain, "I ... uh ..." he forced a
laugh and added, "I think that maybe ye've been hanging 'round
humans too long!" But a few moments later Groyl reached forward and
returned his offspring's hug with equal intensity. "I love ye, too,
son," he whispered. Both ogres, eyes closed, continued embracing
for several seconds.

As Fiona watched the father and son she felt tears of her own begin
welling in her eyes. She looked over at Moyre, but the moment that
she made contact with the elder ogress Moyre turned away. Fiona's
initial instinct was to simply regard this as one more slight from a
mother-in-law who either felt obliged to play out her stereotypical
role or had found some real fault in Fiona which the younger ogress
hadn't figured out yet. But for some reason that she couldn't quite
pin down, Fiona got an uneasy impression that there was something
else in that brief expression that she saw in Moyre's face before
the elder ogress turned away that indicated something far more
serious than that. And it made the hairs on the back of Fiona's
neck begin to rise.