Quite a while had gone by, and Gutsy was no longer the youngest. Both Miner and Panicky had been brought by the stork and now Papa was once again sitting by the window, half watching for the stork and half keeping an eye on Gutsy, who had tried several times to get outside. This he was not allowed to do because, instead of a thunderstorm, a blizzard had been growing stronger by the minute. The wind battered harder against the windows, Panicky's cries grew louder and Gutsy's short supply of patience was exhausted.
"Oh Smurf out of it, laddie!" he snapped and even Hefty murmured his agreement.
"Gutsy! Don't speak to him like that; you know he can't help it." Papa admonished.
"But don't it give you a headache?" Gutsy protested. Papa was about to correct his grammar (even though he knew it wouldn't make a difference), when the familiar scratch sounded at the door. Papa brought the smurfling inside, away from the cold, but he didn't put his down in the middle to introduce his to the others because something seemed...wrong. The smurfling was shivering, though with what Papa couldn't tell. "Cold?" Gutsy, who had come over seeing Papa's worried expression, suggested.
"Yes, that's probably it." Papa agreed. "He's cold. Gutsy, can you Smurf an eye on his while I get a blanket or something?" Gutsy nodded and watched Papa head into his lab. He then turned to the smurfling and crawled closer, but the smurfling recoiled with a whimper of surprise and Gutsy stopped, confused. Couldn't the smurfling see him or something? And as he watched the smurfling carefully, Gutsy felt surer that this was the answer. The smurfling was looking around, but his eyes seemed jarred and out of focus, and it was as if he was staring right through things that were fairly close to him. An idea occurred to Gutsy, and he slowly held out his hand, palm outstretched, to the smurfling. The smurfling blinked and squinted, obviously trying to see it, so Gutsy kneeled up and brought his hand closer to the smurfling's face. When the smurfling's eyes seemed to focus on Gutsy's hand (though that wasn't until it was about an inch from his face), he reached out shakily and clutched Gutsy's fingers. He even attempted a smile in Gutsy's direction. Just then, Papa came back with a warm blanket for the smurfling. "Well, he seems to like you, Gutsy." He smiled. Gutsy squeezed the smurfling's hand reassuringly and explained the issue with his eyes to Papa. Papa thought hard about this while watching Gutsy continue to talk gently to the smurfling. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Gutsy trying to get his attention.
"Papa!" Gutsy called and Papa blinked and looked down at the two smurflings. "What is it, Gutsy?" He asked.
"He said my name!" Gutsy exclaimed, wide-eyed.
"What?!" Papa gasped. No smurfling had ever said an understandable word when he was less than 15 minutes old. Gutsy turned back to the smurfling and said,
"Say my name. Say Gutsy."
"Gutsy." The smurfling replied without a trace of difficulty. Papa was amazed, first at the smurfling's ability, and second at his voice. It was quite deep and had a richness and clarity to it that Papa had never heard before.
"Gutsy, I need you to try to introduce him to the others while I make something to help his eyes, ok?" Papa slowly walked back to his lab, marvelling over this smurfling's ability and wondering what his name would be. But now he had a bigger task at hand, one that would probably take all night.
The next day, "Papa's big project", as it had been nicknamed by the smurflings, was finished. Papa brought it through to the nursery, after breakfast, where the smurflings were playing and looked round for the smurfling. When he located him and saw who he was with, the first thought that flashed into his head was "Gutsy's sort of adopted him...or is it the other way round?" Smiling at his own thoughts, Papa made his way over to the smurflings, deliberately making enough noise to let the smurfling know he was there. Gutsy was sitting quite quietly with the smurfling, a miracle in itself because he could usually sit still for a maximum of only 30 seconds. When Papa came closer, the smurfling looked up in alarm, his eyes swivelling as he tried to focus.
"It's ok" Gutsy reassured him "It's only Papa" the smurfling relaxed.
"Papa!" he cried happily. Papa chuckled.
"Yes little one, it's me. Now hang on just a second..." as he spoke, Papa leaned forward and placed the glasses on the smurfling's face. The smurfling blinked twice, then his face broke into a massive grin.
"I can see well!" he exclaimed, looking round. Papa chuckled.
"And I've got something else for you, since you're still cold." He went on, producing a small package which contained a small darkish green jumper, just the right size for the smurfling and as he put it on, Papa reflected just how well it suited him. As in, really, really worked on him; it could have been made specifically for that smurfling, it went so well with his glasses and voice.
The next day Papa was busy in his lab, for it was only weeks until the blue moon and he wanted to make sure that all his important potions were easily accessible, when suddenly Tailor and Baker burst in.
"Papa, Papa" Hefty's hurt himself!" They cried. Groaning inwardly, Papa hurried to the big tree in the centre of the village where the others were crowding round, though they made a kind of path for Papa through to Hefty, who was holding his wrist and obviously trying not to cry and failing.
"What have you been doing now, you numpty?" Gutsy, with the little smurfling next to him, sighed.
"Smurf it, Gutsy!" Hefty snapped back.
"Hefty, don't be rude." Papa chided as he knelt down and examined his wrist. "Who saw what happened?"
"Well I did, but not very clearly." Handy said and all the others shook their heads.
"I saw it!" the little smurfling piped up.
"Yeah, but you're too young to describe it properly" Handy said.
"I could try..." the smurfling sounded hopeful but Hefty interrupted;
"How about no?"
"Leave him alone!" Gutsy snapped, his eyes glinting angrily "Let him try, you may be surprised!" The other grudgingly turned to the smurfling, their faces showing that they shared Handy's views.
"Hefty and Handy had been playing at throwing stones under the big tree", the smurfling started but was interrupted by Handy,
"We weren't!" he cried, but he had gone bright red so it was obvious that he was lying. Stone throwing was a forbidden game among the smurflings. The little smurfling ignored him and went on,
"Then I heard Hefty daring Handy to climb the tree, but then Handy refused, saying only Gutsy could climb a tree that high. That obviously annoyed Hefty, who said; 'alright, I'll do it. I'll show you!' then began to climb. He had only gotten onto the first branch when he looked down and seemed scared. Hefty tried to get back to the trunk of the tree but he wobbled and fell off, landing on his wrist" The smurfling stopped uneasily, because everyone was staring at him. "What?"
"Oh. My. Smurf!" Tailor exclaimed. "How did he do that?"
"Do what?" The smurfling asked, looking worried.
"You've not done anything wrong, laddie" Gutsy explained, grinning. "Just the opposite, in fact. Do you have any idea how amazing you being able to explain an event like that at your age is?" The smurfling shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face.
"He recounted that smurfectly!" Baker said, his face a picture of disbelief. Papa chuckled and said,
"Do any of you know a better word for this than recounted?" He glanced round, but they all shook their heads. Papa went on, smiling broadly, "We could say he narrated that smurfectly! And from now on, you little one, will be called Narrator Smurf!"
Gutsy whooped, sending a ripple of laughter through the crowd as Narrator also laughed his deep laugh and clapped his hands excitedly.