A Wandering Heart
Part 17: Janken's Song
by Kim McFarland

It was a chilly day in late December, cool enough that people dressed warmly, but not cold enough to keep them indoors. Janken and Scooter were sitting on a park bench. The theater renovation was in full swing, with work going on seven days a week, so they had lost their usual hangout. Both were wearing winter clothing, even Janken, who was more resistant to cold than most surface dwellers. He had even put on a pair of leggings—Scooter had gotten him to try blue jeans, but Janken found them uncomfortable—and a knit cap in additional to his usual denim jacket. Yet he was still barefoot.

"I wish it would snow," Janken said. A puff of fog hung in front of his face for a moment before drifting away on the cold air.

"Yeah," Scooter said. "If it's gonna get cold, why not go all the way?"

They got snow in Fraggle Rock, or more precisely in the Gorgs' garden above Fraggle Rock, but they didn't often feel like playing in it because cave dwellers could not completely escape from the cold. Here, Janken liven in a rented basement that was always comfortable, no matter how hot or cold it was outdoors. He enjoyed snow more because he could hide from it any time he liked. He was spoiled, he knew. "What have you got planned?"

"We just finished finals, so the first thing I'm going to do is sleep in and not think a thing about anything I've been studying."

Janken grinned. "It still seems funny. You're in theater arts, which is your job, but you study harder than any student. Anyone would guess you didn't already know what you're doing."

"I know how things work with Muppets. That's hardly the same thing as normal theater."

Janken nodded. "Still... sometimes I kind of wonder why you're here. You've got a job. You've told me you don't plan to leave the Muppets."

Scooter let out a foggy breath. "Yeah, I guess it seems strange. The thing is, I originally lucked into my job because my uncle owned the theater. I started out as a go-fer because he wanted to get me out of the house, and if there was one place that would hire me and keep me out of his hair, it was the people using his theater. They were stuck with me. But I really got into it, and a summer job turned into a career. But, still... I didn't have to earn it. I never even went to college because, at the time, I thought 'why bother?' But a few years ago I realized that, well, I've never really done anything on my own. It's like everything's been handed to me."

"So you're getting a degree on your own."

"Yeah. In theater arts, because why study something I'm not interested in?"

Janken nodded agreement. "I understand, Scooter. I'm here for kind of the same reason. Because I can. I'll be the first one of my kind. That was important when I started, and it still is, but it's not the most important thing now."

"What is?"

"Just being in the world," Janken declaimed with a humorously exaggerated Shakespearean gesture, as if encompassing the entire planet. They both laughed. When they finished Janken said, "I'd better get going."

"Okay. What do you want to do afterward?"

"I don't know. Something fun. I'll probably need cheering up."

The two got up and started walking. Janken said nothing more, so for a while the only sounds were those of their footsteps and the crinkling of the paper bag Janken was carrying. Then Scooter said, "Can I help?"

Janken looked over and smiled wistfully. How could he explain that his plans were to crawl into a hole, ring a bell, and cry his eyes out because he was homesick? But he needed to get it out of his system. "I wish you could, but... this is something I've got to do myself. Let's meet tomorrow, 'cause I won't be fit company tonight."

"All right," Scooter said.

Janken thought, at least he had that to look forward to. No matter how lonely he felt today, on the day of the solstice, he had several weeks off and someone he loved with whom to spend it. He could smile more easily, thinking about that.

They walked without speaking for a minute. Then, apropos of nothing, Scooter said,

"Have you ever went over a friend's house to eat
And the food just ain't no good?"

Grinning widely, Janken chanted,

"I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed,
And the chicken tastes like wood."

Scooter replied,

"So you try to play it off like you think you can
By sayin' that you're full,"

Janken responded,

"And then your friend says, momma, he's just being polite,
He ain't finished, uh-uh, that's bull."

The two walked on, alternating lines in the song and laughing.

When they reached the TMI office Janken told Scooter, "Thanks. I needed that."

"Any time. What's TMI?"

"They help Monsters. They helped me get into the university."

"Oh? Cool."

Janken had wondered if Scooter would ask if he was a Monster. If he did, Janken didn't know what he would say. However, Scooter didn't seem to give it any thought. Janken stepped through, then held it for Scooter. A big, sharp-toothed, shaggy blue Monster was seated at the reception desk. Janken said, "Hi, Cheryl. This's Scooter. We've been working together on some University plays."

"Janken has told us about you. Thanks for taking him under your wing." She held out her hand.

Scooter shook it without flinching. Considering some of the creatures he dealt with regularly, she was not particularly intimidating. "No problem. He's a pleasure to work with."

Janken said, "Thanks, Scoot. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

"Sure. Good luck." Scooter patted Janken's shoulder.

As they walked down the hall in the back of the office Cheryl asked, "How long do you plan to stay?"

"Couple of hours, I guess. I guess I can't really celebrate the Festival of the Bells by myself, but I can't ignore it either." He took a long-handled bell out of the paper bag and showed it to her.

"You don't have to celebrate the turning of the year alone," she said gently.

Last year he had spent Christmas with her family. He did not understand the legends associated with it—they seemed to be several which conflicted sharply—but the messages of the renewal of life, kindness toward those in need, and faith in the benevolence of the world were universal. "Thanks. But this year I won't be alone. I've got someone to spend it with." He smiled.

"Good. I hope you find what you're looking for," she said as she unlocked the storeroom door.

"Thanks."

She closed the door after Janken, leaving it unlocked. He moved a box aside, slid the wooden panel covering the Fraggle hole upward, and went in.

The temperature seemed to drop with every inch he crawled. When he reached the small room he stood up and shuddered. It was cold in here. He took a pair of warm, thick socks—gifts from Boober—out of the bag and slipped them on over his feet. That felt much better, putting something between his feet and the cold stone floor so it would not drain his warmth away. He also had a pair of mittens, but he did not put these on just yet.

He went down the tunnel leading to the Fraggle colony. As expected, it was still blocked by huge boulders. No amount of wishing was going to move them. He sat down on one and took a foot-long daikon radish out of the bag. As he munched on his lunch he thought about Fraggle Rock. Right about now everyone would be clustering around fire bowls in the great hall, huddled together for warmth. The Rock would be slowing down. Soon it would be the right moment. The Rock would stop. Then they would ring their bells and sing, and the world would continue turning. Part of Janken knew now that that was just folklore. The world would continue on its path, cycling between winter and summer, whether the Fraggles celebrated it or not. The importance, he now believed, was for the Fraggles. It tied them to the world and to each other. That was what made it vital.

Janken took out his bell and rang it. The lonely sound echoed away in the cave. Janken's eyes began to sting with tears—

…Echoes?

He rang the bell again. This cave was no more than a room; he shouldn't be hearing an echo! He put the radish down and went back into the main room. He rang the bell, then looked in the direction of the echo. What had always been a shallow, shadowed inlet was darker than it ought to be. And there was debris around it. Another rockslide? Hardly daring to hope, he stuck his head and arm through the crack and rang his bell hard. He heard the sound bounce away, down a long tunnel.

He ran back, put his mittens on, grabbed the daikon, and wriggled his way through the crack.

His first impulse was to run, but he checked himself. Running around in unfamiliar passages was a good way to injure or kill himself. Not to mention how easy it would be to get lost! He looked back and saw the light of the room he had just come from. He searched around, found a piece of quartz with a sharp, broken-off edge, and scratched a mark on the wall at eye height pointing the way back. As long as he kept doing that, making another blaze mark before losing sight of the last one, he wouldn't get lost.

He walked down, looking around and listening carefully as he went, occasionally ringing his bell for the comforting sound it made.

He walked for several hours. It became progressively colder as the passage meandered downward. He hardly needed to blaze a trail, as he had followed the main trunk, which did not fork. Side passages branched off of it, but no alert Fraggle could accidentally wander into one of those. Still, he kept marking his path, looking back periodically to make sure he could see at least one mark from wherever he was.

Soon, tired and hungry, he stopped to eat some more of the daikon. He had been so intent on exploring, he had forgotten all about lunch. He sat down to rest his feet and munched the savory vegetable. But soon, tired as he was, he got back up again. It was cold, and he had to keep moving to stay warm.

He looked around as he jogged in place, chewing a mouthful of radish. He could find his way back now, then try this in the spring, when it was warmer. He could bring proper equipment. He still had the pickaxe and rope and other things he had borrowed from Gobo. Common sense told him that it was foolish to risk exploring this cold, unknown cave all alone. If he succumbed to hypothermia or one of the few predators that was active in winter, nobody would ever know what had become of him. He would simply disappear.

But this isn't about staying safe, he thought. It's about following your heart. As corny as it sounded, be couldn't give up hope that this passage would lead to other Fraggles. After a little more dithering he decided that he would go on for one more hour, and then turn back if he didn't find anything. He could hold out in the cold that long, especially since he knew the path back to be safe.

He continued down lower. Stalactites and stalagmites made the shrinking passage into an obstacle course. While wriggling between them he snapped the tips off of a few. He felt a sharp twinge of regret each time that happened; it felt like vandalism. He kept going, though. He had tied his bell to one of his jacket's buttonholes, and it clinked and dinged as he walked. His arms were tightly folded across his chest, his hands under his arms. It was cold.

The tunnel led into a white cavern. He blinked, his eyes momentary dazzled after the gloom of the tight passage. What he at first thought was ice was the natural color of the stone. It was beautiful—and confusing. There were all sorts of stone formations, but it was difficult to orient himself among them, and he could easily get turned around in here. He scratched several blaze marks around the tunnel exit to be on the safe side. He regretting marring the purity of these stones, but he put them where they would not be conspicuous to anyone not looking for them. When he judged it safe, he continued through the white cavern.

More white stone, its folds and creases and columns creating seemingly endless nooks and crannies and side tunnels. Janken stopped, shivering. The icy white of the cave was getting to him. He felt his energy and warmth ebbing. If he stopped here he would get sleepy, and then he wouldn't ever wake up. He had done his best, he decided, and now it was time to go back before hypothermia set in. He was tired, but, he told himself, he could run. He'd have to, to keep warm.

As he took a final glance around, he noticed a dark mark on the ground. There, clearly visible against the white rock, was a dark foorprint. Or, more precisely, a toe-print, as if someone wearing boots had tripped there.

Eyes wide, Janken stared. He reached down and touched it, smearing the print with his mittened hand. It was real. He looked around, and saw a ramp leading up into the darkness above.

He dropped his marking stone and dashed up the ramp.

Soon he heard a sound. It was a soft humming at this distance, but one he knew well. The sound of many voices blended together. He put on a burst of speed, scrambling through the caves as if fleeing a garboyle. There was no fear in his heart, however; only joy.

He emerged into a cavern filled with Fraggles. All were bundled together in a sea of warm clothes, dotted here and there by fire bowls. Their clothing and skin and hair were a crazy-quilt of colors. And they were all singing The Carol of the Promise. Janken raised his voice and sang with them,

"There's a rhythm, there's a rising,
There's a dream of green that needs to wake.
A password and a promise
That the earth will never ever break.
It's coming, feel it humming,
In the hearts we share with rock and sky,
So raise your voices high!"

The crowd sparkled as light flashed off the bells the Fraggles rang. Janken rang his joyfully, scanning the crowd. In this sea of bundled-up Fraggles, how could he find anybody? They were all facing the center of the Great Hall, where Cantus, who had been leading the festival as he always did, stood. Janken considered calling out to the Minstrel, but that was only the second thing on his mind. He kept scanning the crowd until one head-turn caught his eye. He made his way into the hall, toward a knit cap that had two crowns, both tipped with a big puff of red hair. As he got closer he recognized the pattern of his father Wembley's signature banana tree shirt, worn on top of a warm sweater, and his mother Mokey's blue-green hair, and Papa Gobo's vest. What looked like a pile of laundry was Papa Boober, bundled up against the cold. They were busy ringing their bells and making merry, and they had not noticed him. He grinned, then reached around Mokey from behind, took her right hand, and rang her bell.

Startled, she looked around. "Who—Janken!"

Janken had been thinking of clever entrance lines, but forgot all about them and just hugged Mokey tightly. "Mama!"

The others were exclaiming in surprise. Gobo asked, "How'd you get here? We didn't know you were coming back!"

Janken turned and hugged him. "I didn't know either! A rockslide trapped me over there, and now another rockslide just opened a new passage, and here I am!"

Wembley joined in on what had become a group hug. "I don't believe it! Welcome home!"

'Thanks, Papa." He looked at Wembley, then realized he was looking slightly down. He used to see eye to eye with Wembley. Wembley, noticing the same thing, said, "Wow! You got big while you were away."

"Yeah, I did some growing up out there," Janken said, grinning.

"Janjanjan!"

Janken was attacked by a green ball of fur. His little sister, Sage, had been playing in the Weeba Beast costume, and had just heard Janken's voice. She, too, had grown in the past two years, and her playful rush nearly knocked him over. She stopped and grabbed him to keep him from falling. "Sorry, Jan!"

"Never mind," he said, and hugged her. She squeezed back hard, as if to make up for missed time.

Reproachfully Boober said, "Sage! He's tired and cold. Let him rest and warm up before you maul him."

Janken's first impulse was to protest that he was all right now, but, well, he was feeling the effects of his journey. Red, who was still sitting down, shifted to the side and said, "Here, sit with me. I warmed the rock for ya."

"Heh, thanks." Janken glanced over, and for a moment misunderstood what he saw. Red had no lap at all; her arms were around what he thought was a very round stomach. Then he saw the top of a head peeking out of her coat, and realized that she was holding Poncle under her coat to keep her warm.

Noting his startled expression, she said, "What?"

"For a moment I thought you were having another baby."

"What? No, just the same one." The opened her coat a little, and Poncle looked around to see what all the commotion was about. Red told her, "Janken's come home."

Unimpressed, Poncle looked at the purple Fraggle she had never seen before. Of course she wouldn't recognize him; when he had left she was just a newborn, her eyes not yet open. Sage came back carrying a blanket. She handed it to Janken, and he wrapped it around himself while she explained to Poncle, "He's our brother. A brother's like a boy sister." Startled, Janken laughed. Sage told him, "She's just a baby. She doesn't understand much yet."

"You're teaching her, though. I knew you'd be a great big sister."

"Can I be a little sister too?" she asked him.

"Yeah. You can start by helping warm me up." He patted his lap. She sat crosswise on it, and he wrapped the blanket around them both as he hugged her again.

The family talked, chatting about things that they had only been able to mention in the small space that postcards allowed. Janken tried to explain his job in terms they would understand: making pictures of people telling stories, like Doc took photos, but the pictures moved, and they captured the sound as well, so people could see it again later. The concept startled the other Fraggles. But Gobo reminded them of the device that Doc had once used to save his voice so he could talk to the Fraggles after he left; this must be like that, but they could watch as well as listen. They found that much easier to understand.

Red had recovered quickly after Janken had left. She wasn't able to do much in the field of athletics for the rest of that year, but the next summer she was back to racing, rock hockey, and of course diving and swimming and splashing around. She and Gobo had formed rival rock hockey teams because, so she said, if they teamed up nobody else would stand a chance. Gobo did not disagree.

Mokey had been composing poetry and painting when not busy with the children. Janken wanted to see her latest works; he had missed her art and writing. Wembley and Boober had nothing major to tell Janken about. Wembley was just cheerfully living life, and Boober remarked that he had no complaints, which by his standards was practically a state of giddy joy. Sage and Poncle were busy growing and learning. Sage in particular had a long list of accomplishments to rattle off.

When Sage paused to take a breath Janken heard, "How goes your journey?"

He looked up. Cantus had approached so quietly that Janken had not noticed. He answered, "It wasn't what I expected. It was longer, and harder...and better."

Cantus nodded. "What have you learned?"

"Um..." He patted Sage's back and said, "Let me up, Sis."

She asked, "Are you going away again?"

"Just for a few minutes. C'mon."

Reluctantly she slid off his lap. Janken stood, and he and Cantus walked slowly through the Fraggle throng as they talked. Janken began, "I think I figured out the answer to your question."

"Well?"

"The people living on the surface—Outer Space—live so differently from us that we may think they're crazy, or at least stilly. But they're like Gorgs, or Doozers, or Thrumb, or even Fraggles. Once you learn about them you find out that the way they live makes sense. And the more you understand, the more you realize that, when you get down to the core, you're more the same than different." That sounded clumsy, he thought. It was so simple and elegant in his head, but it sure didn't come out that way.

Cantus said, "You have learned to listen."

Relieved, Janken said, "Thank you. Can I ask you a question?"

"There can be no answers without questions."

He took that as a yes. "Why did you take me with you? How did you know what would happen?"

"I did not know what would become of you, or what you would become. I cannot see into the future. But I do have a good view of the present." His eyes met Janken's. "I invited you because I saw a hint of what you were capable of, if given the opportunity."

Was Cantus talking about destiny? That was silly. Destiny was a fairytale guarantee of the role you would have in life. It didn't happen that way in real life. You had to work for your accomplishments. And, Janken realized, he had been willing, eager even, to leave the comfort of his home to travel into the unknown with the Minstrels. It had been partially because of his feelings for Cantus, but he had also wanted to see the other colonies the Minstrels visited. Not many Fraggles would be so interested, but he had been raised on tales of Outer Space. He had been exploring with his family as long as he could remember, and he had grown up with Gorgs and Doozers and a Hairy Monster and a Human Being as friends. He might as well have been raised to bridge the gap between the inner and outer worlds. Which sounded silly and egotistic, but, he thought, it might be true in a way. He said to Cantus, who had waited while he thought all this over, "I guess I was the right Fraggle at the right time."

Cantus nodded emphatically. Janken felt as if he had won a prize. Sincerely he said, "Thank you. Thanks for helping me find my place. It's not what I expected, and it's sure not what I wanted when I started out, but now I wouldn't want it any other way."

"You have begun singing your song," Cantus told him, and turned away.

What? Janken had no idea what that meant; Janken didn't have a song like other Fraggles did. But Cantus wouldn't be Cantus if he wasn't confusing. There was a time, Janken thought, when he would have done anything for the elder Minstrel; he would only have had to crook a finger at him. But Cantus had wanted nothing from him, and another had beckoned. Now he realized that his needy adolescent crush had faded to a gentle warmth.

Janken went back to his family. Mica had joined them. Janken said, "Mica! How are you?"

"I'm all right. How about you?"

She looked worried. "I'm all right. What's wrong?"

Reluctantly she said, "Jan... I have another roommate now."

He asked, "Do you get along well?"

"Yeah."

Her smile told him all he needed to know. "Then, good. Now will you hug me?"

Relieved, she gave her old friend a tight squeeze. He whispered into her ear, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"Maybe I've found someone."

"Really?"

"Shh. Our secret for now. I'm not sure, but I'm hoping."

"Good luck!"

"Thanks."

When they separated Gobo said, "Don't worry about where to stay. You can room with Wembley and me again. You can have your old nook."

Boober said, "Sage has been living with me, and Red and Mokey have Poncle. It all evens out."

Janken said, "Er... I'm not staying."

"You're not? Why?" Red asked, startled.

Janken looked around at his whole family. "Um. My home is here... but I have a home up on the surface too. I have a job, and friends, and a place to live. And..."

Wembley said softly, "And you want to go back."

"Yeah. I'm still learning about Outer Space, and if I came home now it would be like, what was the point? I wouldn't have accomplished anything 'cause I quit before I was finished."

"What do you have to do?" Sage asked.

"I'm not sure," Janken told her.

"Then when will you come back for real?"

He sat down. "I don't know. It may be a long, long time. But I'll visit, now that I know the way back."

"You promise?"

"You bet!"

"You better," Red told him.

"Are you going to stay a little while, at least?" Gobo asked.

Janken paused. People would wonder if he disappeared. Scooter expected to see him tomorrow, and if the people at TMI saw the new opening in the cave they might think that he had gone for good. But to find Fraggle Rock at long last and then turn right back around? He said, "Yeah, for a few days at least. My friends'll understand. Um, first, think I could go up and ask Doc to pass on a message so they won't worry? A postcard wouldn't get there fast enough."

"Sure. It's day up there now."

Sage took his hand. "I know the way. I'll show you."

He remembered the path as well, but she was so very determined to stick with him. "Okay. Be right back," he said, waving at the rest of his family.

Sage led him by the hand through the cold tunnels. With an impish grin she began to sing,

"Every day the world begins again,
Sunny skies or rain.
Come and follow me."

He smiled and responded,

"Every sunrise shows me more and more,
So much to explore.
Come and follow me."

He put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. Together they sang, making the tunnel walls echo with their joy.

"Every morning, every day,
Every evening, calling me away!"

Fraggle Rock, the songs There's a Promise and Follow Me, and all characters except Scooter, Janken, Cheryl, Sage, Poncle, and Mica are copyright © The Jim Henson Company. Scooter is copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC. Rapper's Delight is by The Sugarhill Gang. All copyrighted properties are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Janken 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.