6
Free the Birds vs. Taste the Birds
Snow was just getting ready to teach math, thinking how odd it was that six of her pupils were absent on this half-day of school, then supposed that Henry, Alina, and Grace might have been kept home to help with Thanksgiving preparations or maybe even to keep an eye on Regina, but it was surprising both Zimmermans and Hans was absent too. Hans had been attending school on a regular basis since helping Emma catch Smee in the arson attempt on Mr. Gold's shop and after Gold's little talk with him about staying in school and then working in his shop. So having him absent was a bit odd.
Then she shrugged and thought that at least she had most of her class here and they could do some fun projects after she taught them how to multiply fractions. And it had been nice to have some along time with David since Regina was over Emma's, and she had been able to make her apple pie for Thanksgiving and David his broccoli cheese bake. Actually, the apple pie had once been Regina's recipe, which Snow had found in a box of recipe cards after going through the kitchen after the house on Mifflin Street had sold to Mr. Fox. She had looked it over carefully, finding it had nothing dangerous in it, and decided to try it out for Thanksgiving.
"Okay, class, now get out your math books," she began, standing up and going to the board.
There came a universal groan from the class. "Aww, Mrs. Nolan, why do we have to do math now?"
"Yeah, can't we do current events instead?"
"And then can we do math?" pleaded Susie Trumbel, who was the daughter of Mrs. Trumbel who ran the Storybrooke Animal Center.
"Um . . . well . . . all right, since this is half a day . . . we can do something different," Snow agreed.
"Yes!" they all cheered as Snow picked up the remote and turned on the TV on the stand in the corner, which was tuned to the local news station.
The kids all clapped when the anchorman for Good Morning Storybrooke came on and announced that there was going to be a special report today in honor of Thanksgiving featuring some of the children of Storybrooke's most prominent citizens. "And now . .. here's August Booth bringing you the Thanksgiving story of the century here in this sleepy little town . . . August, you're on . . ."
Snow gaped in shock as August began telling about the liberation of an entire flock of turkeys by seven children—and then named all her missing students, plus her daughter!
"Ohh! Free the Birds!" the other children clapped as August interviewed Henry and Alina, who explained how they'd been brought to realize the turkeys were being mistreated by Regina.
"Yeah, Gold! Save those turkeys!" chanted Susie, going all googly-eyed over Henry.
"Shhh! Look, it's Regina!" hissed a few of them, and they all went "Aww!" and grew quiet when Regina came on the screen, in her little Pocahontas costume.
"Regina, tell everybody why you want to save the turkeys," prompted August, and then he held the microphone by her mouth.
"Well . . . see the turkeys are bee-you-tee-ful birds, and my mommy always says that birds are our friends, so's we should be nice to them an' not eat them 'cause it's mean and nasty to eat your friends . . . I mean would you wanna get eaten for dinner?" she demanded, and pointed at August.
"Uh, no, I wouldn't," August laughed. "But Regina, what about all the people in Storybrooke who want to eat turkey for Thanksgiving? What should they do?"
"They can eat somethin' else. Like ham . . . or . . . pizza!" And she grinned right into the camera, her dark eyes sparkling. "An' that's why we have the turkeys here . . . to pr'tect them an' we ain't comin' out till they's pardoned and nobody eats them!"
"And there you have it, folks, out of the mouths of babes," August stated, and gestured to Regina, who began singing her turkey song and prancing in front of the cameras.
"Aww! She's adorable!" cooed the girls in Snow's class.
"Let's help save the turkeys!" shrilled Susie.
"Yeah! We can make signs and stuff," cried her friend Miriam.
"Let's have a protest march!" called Ian, whose father worked for Good Morning Storybrooke.
"Mrs. Nolan, where's the markers?" demanded one of the students.
"And the poster board?" cried another.
Snow was standing there, flabbergasted at how her daughter had captivated the school children and how oddly proud she was of her baby . . . who said her mommy had taught her to love birds! "Uh . . . okay . . ." she muttered.
The children all cheered and grabbed the markers and poster board from the supply closet and set to work making signs that said Have A Turkeyless Thanksgiving and Free the Birds and Go Whole Hog For Dinner with a turkey in a red circle with a line drawn through it below it.
Snow had to admit this was the most enthusiastic and animated they'd been since last year's Christmas pageant, when Miriam Foster had played Mary in the nativity scene and dropped baby Jesus on his head in the middle of the angel Gabriel's speech about following the star.
"Mrs. Nolan, I wanna draw some Indian corn on the top of my poster, can you help?" called little Thea Gibbons, and so Snow went over to assist her with her signs, thinking it a fine thing for the children to be so concerned about animals in this day and age, and wondering how others were taking the protest and sanctuary of the turkeys.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Mayor David Nolan was going to have a nervous breakdown in about fifty seconds if the phone didn't stop ringing off the wall with complaints and comments about the Good Morning Storybrooke special and the liberation of the Thanksgiving turkey flock. He couldn't believe that his grandson and little girl had gone and . . . stolen an entire flock of turkeys . . . right out from under Mr. Fox's nose. He had nearly fallen off his chair when he'd received Bae's phone call, which had been the first of many that morning.
He was just about to leave his office and go down to the convent when an irate Mr. Fox stormed into the office. "Hello, Mr. Fox. What can I do for you?"
Fox was a medium-sized man with longish red hair and a small goatee and his eyes were a light brown, almost amber. He had a lean pointed face and was wearing jeans and a brown polo shirt with a tan bomber jacket on. "You can help me get justice for my stolen turkeys, mayor, that's what you can do!" he snapped, his voice going slightly high, like a fox yipping.
Actually, David thought, that wasn't far from the truth, since back in Fairy Tale Land, Fox had been . . . well, a fox, literally. And so had his son, and Fox's mate, Felicity, who had been shot and killed by one of Regina's guards after she had attempted to raid the chicken coop just before Regina enacted the Dark Curse. Which was how the Foxes ended up in Storybrooke . . . as humans.
"I demand compensation for my losses!" he yelled. "Those hooligans of yours belong in juvie for stealing!"
"Mr. Fox, please calm down. I assure you we can work everything out," David said soothingly. "I'm sure the children were just . . . trying to do what they thought was best . . . and well, it didn't turn out that way . . ."
"I'll say it didn't!" Fox blustered. "I demand—"
"Look, it's understandable you're upset, but why don't you come down to the convent with me and we can discuss this with the children and . . . uh . . . the sisters?" David suggested, knowing that Rumple would be at the convent and he might be able to deal better with Fox than David could.
"Okay, but I'd better see some action. Those little thieves ought to be thrown in the clink!" Fox growled, and he strode out the door.
David just shook his head and grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door. "Regina, the things you get into!" he muttered, then couldn't help but smile when he recalled how adorable his daughter had looked on the TV as the spokesperson for the Free the Turkey movement. He knew he ought to be shocked and horrified at the tumult the little girl had kicked off, but right then he was past shock and just rather awed at how the whole town was getting involved with either the Save the Birds movement or the opposite, give back the turkeys and "Taste the Birds" for Thanksgiving.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
When Rumple and Bae arrived at the convent, they found Emma parked in her Bug, talking to Alice, who was speaking with some of the Good Morning Storybrooke news crew and they saw a new broadcast of the children inside the prayer garden with Sister Astrid surrounded by turkeys singing, "Onward Christian Soldiers", followed by "Kumbaya!" and a rousing chant of "Free the Birds! Free the Birds!" like they were cheerleaders at a Patriots game.
Not only that, but Snow was there along with the entire fifth grade, who were carrying various signs supporting the Free the Birds movement and marching around yelling, "No more turkeys! We're eating ham! Free the birds! Pardon them! Cause you're the only ones who can!"
And one enterprising little kid was standing holding a tin can with a slit in it and yelling, "Donations! Give your donations here! To save the turkeys and ransom them! Put your donations here!"
"Donations? Holy God!" Bae exclaimed as they got out.
"Hey, Mr. Gold!" the kid cried when he caught sight of Rumple. "Can you give a poor turkey a break this season? Please?"
"Here," Gold said, and put a fifty dollar bill into the coffee can.
"Papa! What are you doing?" Bae gasped.
"Supporting charity," replied his father as they walked up to the doors.
"Yeah well, charity begins at home," Bae muttered. "Besides, they stole those turkeys."
"Not according to their lights," Gold sighed, then he did a double take as he saw Snow marching in front of her class holding a sign that read Make a New Tradition This Year—Eat Tofurkey! "Or Snow's either." He indicated the schoolteacher.
"Oh my God!" Bae gasped at the sight of his mother-in-law. "What is she doing?"
"Supporting the Free the Birds movement," Emma groaned as she came up to them. "I can't believe Henry's involved in this."
"Really, dearie?" Gold just raised an eyebrow.
"On second thought, who'm I kidding?" Emma snorted. "He's just like his grandparents . . . a sucker for lost causes."
"Excuse me?" Gold gasped.
"C'mon, Gold, you know it's true," she said.
"Emma! I'm not a sucker!"
"You took me on . . . and if I wasn't a lost cause when I first came here, I don't know who was," the sheriff admitted. "But God, that kid and I need to have a long talk when we finally clear all this up."
"With both of us," Bae said grimly. "And maybe more than a talk too."
"Hey, Mr. G!" Alice called, running up to them.
"Alice! Where's Belle?" Gold cried upon seeing his former housekeeper.
"She's uh . . . inside the convent talking to Mother Superior," Alice said softly. "I can't believe what's going on here, can you? And there's my Gracie and Alina right in the middle of it, thick as thieves! Lord, does that remind me of Belle and me when we were girls."
"You staged a protest and stole turkeys too?" Emma joked.
Alice chuckled. "Nah, but we helped the stableboys and kitchen lads learn how to read, and ran a little school on the side . . . and that wasn't exactly kosher back in Avonlea."
"Now I know where Alina gets it," Gold snorted.
"Ha! Mr. G, you did it too . . . Belle's told me about the time you rescued that sheepdog from that knight," Alice pointed out.
"That . . . was different!" he protested. "The dog was almost dead in the road and that idiot knight was going to run her over if I didn't rescue her."
"Uh huh. And when the owner came to get his dog back, you told him it died . . . and the dog was lying right there on the floor inside your castle," Alice snickered.
"The owner was this creepy scummy guy! I wouldn't have trusted him with fleas, much less that poor animal," Rumple replied. "Besides, Belle loved Saffy!"
"Saffy?" Bae repeated.
"Safflower was her whole name," Rumple said defensively. "And she was a companion for Belle in the castle." He smiled reminiscently. "Such a lovely collie, she was. A red-gold sable and white little thing . . . I buried her beside the rose arbor when she died."
"How'd she die?" asked Bae.
"Old age. Found her beside the hearth one morning, she'd slipped away in her sleep, old girl. Best dog I ever owned."
"And you liberated her from that idiot," Alice smirked. "Like father, like daughter."
"Alice!" he glared at her. "All right, let me see if I can get in to see Mother Superior," Gold said. "Does Belle know about the children and the protest?"
"Uh, she probably does now. But that wasn't why she originally came here," Alice hedged.
"Why did she?" asked Gold curiously.
"You'll have to ask Belle that," Alice said, just as Jeff came up. "Hey, gorgeous! Can you believe the hot water your little princess got herself into this time?"
"Pardoning turkeys!" Jeff shook his head. "You know, maybe Grace has something there, Alice. I never really liked turkey . . ."
"Jeff! Turkey on Thanksgiving is like . . . like Santa Claus on Christmas!" Alice gasped. "You can't have one without the other . . ."
She led her husband away, still arguing about the merits of having turkey for Thanksgiving.
Rumple, Emma, and Bae mounted the steps to the convent, and Rumple rapped on the door loudly.
"Mother Superior, I demand that you send the children out right now!" he said, his voice soft, yet with a steely undertone.
Bae found he had to catch himself before he uttered an automatic, "Yes, sir," in a kneejerk reaction to that tone.
Blue appeared in the doorway, and said quietly, "I'd love to, Mr. Gold, but a request for sanctuary is a sacred trust that must be honored."
"You've got to be kidding! They're turkeys!"
"Yes, they are, but it's also the children who must be considered. They are taking this very seriously and I just can't disregard their feelings even if it is to save their . . . um . . . dinner!"
Rumple hit himself in the forehead. "Emma, do something!"
"What? Cuff them? Read them their Miranda Rights?" the sheriff moaned.
Snow came up to them, holding her cell. "I just talked to Belle. She told me Regina's in the convent with Henry and Alina demanding a pardon for all of the turkeys?"
Mother Superior nodded. "Yes, your majesty. The children are in the prayer garden with. . . eh, the flock. . . and Sister Astrid."
"They refuse to come out until we agree to pardon the stupid birds!" Rumple said exasperatedly.
"Well, then pardon them!" Snow said reasonably.
"It's not that simple, dearie!" Rumple began, just as David pulled up with Mr. Fox on his heels, along with several other concerned citizens, including Dr. Hopper, Granny, Ruby, Marco, Victor, and Jay Mason, Hans's father. Just then a truck pulled up and all the dwarves got out as well.
"Hey, mayor!" yelled Leroy. "What side are you on?"
"What?" David cried.
"Of the debate, of course," Grumpy said. "Are you for or against?"
"Now it's a debate?" Bae muttered.
"Uh . . . I want to eat my turkey on Thanksgiving," David said.
"Yeah, since he paid for it," snorted Fox.
David peered over at the marching schoolchildren and then he gasped as he saw his wife marching with them. "Snow! You're . . . supporting this?"
"Of course, David! Regina's right . . . we need to free the birds!" Snow called as she marched about the convent.
"Free the Birds! Free the Birds!" the children chanted.
Fox gaped at them. "You little hoodlums!" he bellowed. "You're all conspiring to ruin me!" He shook his fist at the children. "You all ought to be whipped and sent to bed without supper!"
"Hey, Fox, you take it easy," Emma ordered. "You lay a hand on those kids and I'll arrest you for assault."
"Assault? Assault? How about robbery?" Fox demanded, his eyes bulging. "Where's my compensation, Sheriff Gold? Or do you condone thievery because your son's in on the ring?"
"The ring?" Bae snapped, coming over to confront the angry farmer. "Buddy, my son wasn't part of a ring, he's just a kid trying to save some turkeys. They're kids, not criminals."
"They stole my property, Gold!" Fox yipped. "I want to see some punishment!"
Bae crossed his arms over his chest. "Nobody punishes my son but me."
Fox backed down then, not willing to go up against an angry Baelfire. "I'm suing all of you! And your delinquent children!"
"I say save the birds!" Sneezy cried, and then grabbed a sign and started marching alongside Jefferson, Victor, Snow, Bashful, Archie and the children.
"Hey! I like my turkey!" objected Happy.
"Me too!" cried Sleepy.
"So do I!" cried Dopey.
"I say we start a countermovement," Alice cried.
"Yeah!" Ruby cried, and pulled a sign out from her car that read Taste the Birds! Turkeys Are Meant for the Table! "Come on, guys! All those who want to eat turkey for Thanksgiving, step right up!"
"And taste the birds!" Granny cried, and then she joined her granddaughter, Sleepy, Happy, Dopey, Bae, Marco, and David.
They began marching around, singing "The Thanksgiving Song" and Dopey was wearing a pilgrim hat.
Doc held up his hands. "I'm not getting involved. I'm staying out of it."
"Leroy!" yelled Sneezy. "How about you?"
"Uh . . . I like turkey, but . . . I gotta stand with my girl."
"Why don't you try and convince her to tell the children to end this protest before someone gets hurt?" Rumple suggested.
"Uh . . . okay, Gold," Leroy agreed reluctantly. He banged on the door of the convent. "Nova! Hey Nova! You gotta stop this and let those kids come out and come home!"
Soon they heard Nova's lovely soprano quit singing "Kumbaya" and come to hover over the convent garden wall in her fairy form. "Sorry, Grumpy, but .. . the right of sanctuary is sacred."
"They're birds!"
"Sanctuary is for ALL living things, Grumpy."
"Nova, it's Thanksgiving! And while I understand your position, a lot of people well . . .it's like tradition to eat turkey."
"Maybe we need to change the tradition then."
"Gold, can't you . . .err . . . magic them out of there?" Leroy asked.
"Leroy, what do you mean magic them out? Those're my kids in there! I'm not going to traumatize them by magicking them out of there!" Rumple cried, aghast. "Who do you think I am . . . Lord Voldemort?"
"Who's that?" asked Marco.
"Fictional wizard," Alice informed him. "The bad guy in Harry Potter."
"I don't believe this! All you Golds are insane!" Fox cried. "Worrying about saving stupid turkeys . . . who's going to save Thanksgiving?" He glared at Nova. "This is all your fault, sister! You and those like you who encourage these brats to ruin honest businessmen like me . . ."
"You, an honest man, Fox?" sneered Jay Mason. He was a tall well-muscled man dressed in jeans and black boots and white T-shirt that rippled as he flexed his arms. He had straight hair and bright blue eyes and reminded one of Thor the thunder god. He was class A mechanic at the Storybrooke auto body shop, though once he had been an adventurer who'd gone on the quest for the Golden Fleece. "Don't make me laugh. You're about as honest as a crooked mile."
"I'll bet you put your delinquent up to this, Mason!" Fox snarled, getting right in the other's face.
"Get that finger out of my face, Fox, before you lose it!" Jay snapped. "You're a fine one to talk, you cheating shyster!"
"Cheating? Me? You lie! It was your kid who put his thieving fingers on my turkeys!"
"Yeah, well, you started it by cheating me over my hay!" Mason growled.
"Oh, cry me a river, Mason!" Fox yipped.
"I'll throw you in the river, you mangy skunk!" Jay snarled, and shoved Mr. Fox.
"Whoa! Guys, stop it!" Emma cried, coming between them. "Settle down! Let's all . . . calm down!"
"How can I calm down, Sheriff Gold, when nobody's listening to me?" Fox yelped, frustrated.
"Come over here, dearie, and we'll talk," Rumple said, and he drew Fox off to the side, close to the convent wall, where they could still hear the children singing snatches of "Kumbaya".
"You want to make a deal with me, Rumplestiltskin?" asked Fox suspiciously.
"Well, dearie, that is what I do," Rumple replied. "So . . . let's make a deal, Fox."
A/N: What kind of deal will Rumple make? And did you notice I put the sheepdog that was mentioned in one episode in the show in there, because I couldn't resist exploring that little tidbit of Rumple's past.
Rumple's Recipe Corner:
Here's two more for you, dearies!
Rumple's Buttery Garlic Mashed Potatoes
7 cups peeled and cubed Yukon Gold potatoes6 cloves garlic, peeled1/2 cup low-fat milk1/4 cup Parmesan cheese, grated4 tablespoons butter1/2 teaspoon salt1/8 teaspoon pepperPreparation:
Place potatoes and garlic in a saucepan. Cover with water; bring to a boil. Reduce heat. Simmer 20 minutes; drain. Place drained potatoes and garlic in a mixing bowl. Add remaining ingredients; beat with mixer until smooth. Serves 6 to 8. May double if necessary.
Belle's Candied Yams
4 large or 6 small sweet potatoes
1 stick unsalted butter
2 cups brown sugar
¼ cup heavy whipping cream
2 ½- 3 teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon nutmeg
couple dashes ground cloves
1 ½ – 1 tablespoon real maple
½ tablespoon real vanilla extract
1 bag mini marshmallows
Preheat oven to 350
Wash and dry yams
Cut off the tips of yams.
Peel yams.
Slice yams into ½ thick circles
Place into a 12 x 9 casserole dish. Set side
In a medium size pot, melt butter over medium heat.
Add sugar and stir until well blended
Add whipping cream and stir until creamy.
Stir in cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, maple, and vanilla extract.
TASTE THE MIXTURE AND MAKE SURE IT TASTES YUMMY. ADD MORE SPICES IF NEEDED.
Pour mixture over yams.
Cover with foil and bake for 40 minutes.
Put marshmallows over top of yams.
Remove foil and bake for an additional 20-25 minutes.
Plate and spoon syrupy sauce over the yams. Serve immediately.