A Wandering Heart
Part 9: Timshel
by Kim McFarland
All of the colony's dozens of Fraggles were in the pond. It was fairly full, but there was still an open space at one side. Cantus stood in the center of the open space. At the edge of the pool, facing Cantus, stood the two new mothers holding their babies. The rest of the Minstrels and Janken were either in the pool or sitting on the sides with their feet in the water, depending on whether their kind liked to swim or not. The delicate, crystalline stalactites above the pond dripped water, as if the cave was raining gently on them.
The mood was a solemn as a Moon Greeting, Janken thought. More solemn, because this only happened once a year. Baby Fraggles were always conceived in midsummer and born early the following spring. Like a Moon Greeting, the ceremony centered on the pool. What did naming babies have to do with water? Then again, Fraggles love water, so why not?
Cantus raised his hands. Water dripped from his fingertips, rippling the surface of the pool. He said, "Every year the world of stone grows cold and still, and every year it awakens again and gives us its gifts of warmth, of light, and of life. Today we celebrate the new lives this year has brought to us, and to welcome them into our clan." Addressing one of the mothers, he said, "Bring forth your daughter."
She waded into the pond and stood, waist deep, before Cantus. He asked, "What is your daughter's name?"
"Her name is Pila."
Cantus scooped a palmful of water and drizzled it gently over the baby. "Welcome, Pila. Share in our joy, share in our song, share in our lives."
Pila's mother lowered her into the water for the first time. The baby squawked in surprise at the new sensation. She wiggled around, splashing her mother and Cantus, and laughed. The first mother moved off to the side, holding Pila down in the water since she was enjoying herself so much. Cantus then looked up at Flitch and said, "Bring forth your son."
Flitch stepped gingerly into the pool, glancing around nervously. When she stood before Cantus she realized that she was holding her son close, as if to protect him from danger. She made herself show the child's face to Cantus. The baby's eyes were still closed.
"What is your son's name?" Cantus asked.
"His name is Jarin," she said. It was obvious to all that she had rehearsed that line.
Cantus dribbled water onto the baby. "Welcome, Jarin. Share in our joy, share in our song, share in our lives."
Flitch carefully lowered Jarin into the pond. When he touched the water he kicked at it, and thrashed as if trying to escape—but the sounds he made were of pleasure, not of distress.
Everyone in and around the pond began to sing softly except for Janken, who did not know their song.
"Come feel the water flow,
Join the stream that connects our lives,
Come feel the warm wind blow,
Breathe it in, breathe the breath of life."
As they sang they began going up to the two babies, and each greeted the children by name and touched them with wet hands or sprinkled water on them. The babies enjoyed the attention.
After a while Flitch went over to the side of the pool. Everyone had greeted her son, and she had seen no sign that anyone disapproved of her naming him before his eyes opened. Clio swam over and said to her, "I told you it'd be all right."
"Yeah," Flitch said, cuddling Jarin. He squirmed in her arms and tried to put his face in the water. That was a habit babies had. It often led to choking fits when they tried to breathe the water. Fortunately, it was rare that any baby made that mistake twice. Softly, hoping nobody would overhear, she said, "I hope his name is right."
Clio replied, "You gave it to him, and it's his name now. It's right."
Flitch looked down at him. The name really did sound right to her. She hadn't seen the name in his eyes, like mothers were supposed to, but when she was thinking about names the previous night that one had come to mind, and it had stuck.
Janken approached them and said to Flitch, "I like his name."
She glanced up at him, and for a moment he wondered if he had interrupted something. She said, "Thank you."
He touched the baby with wet fingers, as he had seen other Fraggles do, and said, "Hi, Jaren." The baby, who had had enough attention for the day, did not react. Janken said softly, "When I left home I had a little sister just his size. Her eyes weren't open either. I didn't really miss her until just now."
Clio asked, "What's her name?"
"Poncle. She's light brown, with pale yellow hair. Her eyes must be open by now."
Flitch said, "She was named before her eyes opened too?"
"Yeah. Actually, we don't have a ceremony like this. When a baby is born, its family just names it."
"What do you do to welcome them, then?"
Janken paused, then said, "We don't have a ceremony like for that. Babies are just automatically welcome, I guess."
Flitch was taken aback. Clio looked thoughtful, then said, "I suppose they are. Who would refuse a baby?"
After a while the Minstrels began playing. Cantus sat on the edge of the pond, his feet in the water, and raised his Magic Horn so the end would not be underwater. Some Fraggles stayed in the pond, swimming and enjoying themselves, and others got out and joined in on their own musical instruments, or sang along, or danced, or all three.
Janken had been sitting on the edge of the pool for some time now. Thinking about Poncle had brought on a mild bout of homesickness, but the festivity was helping to alleviate that. He listened to the skirling of the reed flutes these Fraggles favored, and considered getting out his ocarina, then decided against it. He'd rather just listen and watch.
Mostly he watched Cantus. He admitted to himself that Cantus's age didn't matter; he was strikingly handsome. His fur and hair was the color of autumn leaves, and though he moved slowly and with dignity, the music he played was as energetic and joyous as any Fraggle's dance. And his voice was as beautiful as the sound of the Magic Horn. More so, as it came from a living being. He could not imagine Cantus any younger, and did not try. He was perfect exactly as he was.
The festivities lasted all day. Fraggles came and went, leaving for naps when tired so they could return to the dance with renewed energy; bringing food, and generally celebrating the heck out of the day. By the time the light dimmed the Fraggles were ready to collapse into their beds, or bed down wherever they happened to be.
Janken had not worn himself out. He lay in his sleeping bag in the dark cavern, listening to the soft chord of the Minstrels' breathing. It was a pleasant sound once you got used to it, and made him hope he didn't snore.
He wasn't sleepy at all. As quietly as possible he got out of his sleeping bag and left the great cavern. As he passed by the pond he heard the plinking of the everpresent drizzle, and thought that the Minstrels would find music in that. They could find music in anything. While walking through the tunnels, they would pick up on the rhythm of falling water, or the sound of rushing wind, or the chirps and clicks of insects, and turn them into a tune. They did it as casually as a Fraggle would balance a pickle on his nose, and for the same reason: for the fun of it.
Janken walked into a tunnel and listened. He had his father Wembley's sharp ears, and if there was a Fraggle nearby, he could hear him or her breathing. It was silent. He walked in.
He was in the mood to be alone. The high of the day-long celebration had worn off, leaving him feeling melancholy and foolish. He was following the Minstrels around, but what for? Why had Cantus invited him? He did not regret coming with them; being in their company was an honor, and he was enjoying the adventure of meeting new people and learning about how they lived, even if only for a day or two at a time.
And, of course, Cantus. Janken would do anything that Cantus asked of him. Cantus had said that to learn why the Minstrels did what they did, he should see what they saw and hear what they heard. So far he had seen them play parts in the celebrations of two colonies. Both were like nothing he had seen in Fraggle Rock, but the Minstrels did not find them strange at all.
Maybe if they stayed in one place for a while he might learn about the people well enough to understand them. That was a thought that pulled at Janken with surprising strength. He wanted to know about the other people—Fraggles and otherwise—that lived in this world. They couldn't be so different, he thought, if they laughed and sang and played the same ways, although for different reasons.
Janken stopped walking and listened. There was still nobody here. This must be a straight tunnel, with none of the side passages and cavelets that made for good living space. He walked until he could no longer hear the snores of the Fraggles in the large cavern, then sat down on a mossy boulder. Sure that nobody would hear him, he began to sing softly to himself.
"You touch my heart each time
You sing. You guide, I follow.
I hear your words,
They fly like birds,
Away.
Again—
I listen and I
Don't know what I've heard
I am a flower
That would wish to be that bird
Growing in
A darkened cave,
Waiting for
A ray of sun.
In the darkness and the silence, a lone seed rises blindly,
In the darkness, blooms for no one, never seeing the sun,
Ever reaching, ever seeking for its reason for being,
In the darkness of the sunless, silent, lonely cave."
Janken closed his eyes and shivered. Most Fraggles sang from the heart at the drop of a hat, but for Janken that was a rare experience, and a draining one. But it was a catharsis, and he'd feel better in the morning, he hoped.
"I have finally heard you sing."
Janken startled and his eyes snapped open. Cantus stood in the darkness of the tunnel, one hand touching the cave wall. Janken stammered, "I didn't think anyone was listening."
"Were you listening?" The Minstrel asked as he approached.
Janken looked at the ground. "Yes."
"You guard your heart very closely," Cantus observed. "But to hear the heartbeat of another, you must first hear your own."
As was so often the case, Janken thought that he halfway understood what Cantus was saying, but he would only fully understand it on retrospect. He said, "Cantus, why did you invite me to travel with you? I'm hardly Minstrel material. I can barely even rhyme."
"Why do you dwell on what you aren't? What you are, you are. What you are not, you are not."
"What am I, then?"
Cantus said softly, "Music is not at the center of your soul. But I see something in your heart that I have seen in the heart of every Minstrel. It is the reason that we all left our homes to roam the caves, carrying music as our message."
"What is the reason?" Janken asked pleadingly.
"You must discover that. I cannot introduce you to yourself."
Janken sighed. "Please. Just give me a hint. Where should I look?"
For the second time Cantus's eyes met Janken's. "You must follow your own path. If you are brave enough, you may make a new path. It may lead you anywhere. It may lead you through this world, or out of it. You may travel farther than any Minstrel has. You may do things that no Fraggle has dreamed of. "
"I could?" Janken whispered.
"Can you?" Cantus replied evenly. "You tell me."
His eyes still locked to Cantus', Janken nodded.
"I thought so." Cantus touched Janken's shoulder briefly, then turned to go back to their camp. Janken sat on the mossy boulder for a little while longer to think.
That morning the Fraggles of the colony breakfasted on fruits and soft, sweet breads brought into the cavern by various Fraggles. Janken spoke with some of the Fraggles from this cave as they ate. The Minstrels glanced at Janken now and again, but Cantus appeared not to notice.
When they had almost finished eating Janken returned to the camp. He said, "I'd like to stay here for a while."
"You would," Cantus acknowledged.
"Yes. I'd like to learn more about the Fraggles here. I never knew that there were Fraggles that lived differently, and I'd like to, well, get to know them. And... I think I need to stop and think about what I'm doing." He did not say that he was starting to feel overwhelmed by his quest, not to mention his crush on Cantus, and needed to pull back and get a little perspective, but he suspected that Cantus already knew. "Can I stay here for a while, and continue with you the next time you come by here?"
"Can you?" Cantus asked him.
Janken answered. "Yes. I think I should. By the time you come by again, I'll know what I'm looking for."
"Then I look forward to traveling with you again." Cantus told him.
Janken let out a breath, relieved. The Minstrels began to break down their tents and roll up their bedding. Janken did too. He said quietly, "I've been thinking about what you said."
"You have."
"Yeah." He paused again. "Cantus...thanks."
"You are welcome."
Janken smiled and picked up his pack. He went over to talk to Clio. Murray watched, then said in a low voice to Cantus, "I thought he'd follow you to the end of the Rock."
"He has his own path to make. He is beginning to recognize that."
"Oh," Murray said, nodding. That was as straight an answer as anyone could expect from Cantus.
The Minstrels put on their packs, raised their instruments, and began playing. The other Fraggles watched as they left. Janken watches as they disappeared around a curve of the tunnel, and wished them well.
Fraggle Rock and all characters except Janken, Clio, and Flitch are copyright © The Jim Henson Company. All copyrighted properties are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken, Clio, Flitch, 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.