It No Longer Matters
Morton's POV:
The tumbleweed barreled forward across the rocky land. Morton pounded after it, vaulting over little dips in the rock to avoid tripping and falling. He had to get that tumbleweed! There was something inside it, he was sure. He had been digging up some clay from in and near the lake at his and Sr.'s shack with a stone pickaxe, and the day had been abnormally easy. Cool breezes, a few clouds (though none were rainclouds), and lots more millet spring up in the farm. Morton had just scooped another six pounds of wet clay into a pile when a tumbleweed flew over the pile, bounced off Morton's head, and rolled off into the rocky terrain of the mountainous area of the mesa.
What first intrigued Morton was that the tumbleweed was quite heavy, and it did hurt, which was very unusual. Morton had then watched the tumbleweed for a bit and realized it was glittering like gold in the center!
Now Morton was straining himself to run faster than he had before to catch that golden tumbleweed, and he was gaining!
"COME BACK HERE, TUMBLEWEED!" he shouted with his hands cupped around his big mouth. "I AM IN NEED OF YA! I BEG YA! PUH-LEASE?"
The tumbleweed was getting farther and farther, and Morton was tiring, but he kept on pushing. Suddenly, one of his large toenails caught on a rock, and it ripped. Morton yelped in pain as he fell to the ground. He coughed and sat up. He checked his foot—his toenail was shattered and bleeding, spilling onto the ground and the tan pad on his Koopa foot. He winced and rubbed his foot for a bit before remembering what he came for. He looked west—the opposite of his shack, with the mountains to his right and red dunes and the previous shack to his left—to see the tumbleweed was still bouncing. Morton began to get up when he heard a loud rattling.
SHSK-SUSHSK-SHKKKSKKKSKH!
Morton slowly turned around to see a diamondback rattlesnake coiled up behind him, hissing and shaking its rattle. Its forked tongue slipped in and out of its mouth as it stared into Morton's soul with its cold, dark eyes.
Morton was frozen with fear for a second. He regained his senses, though, and slowly backed up. The rattlesnake eyed him with fear and rage, and then Morton jumped up and ran from the rattlesnake. He looked back as he ran, and the rattlesnake was retreating into a hole in the ground.
Tumbleweed, Morton thought, must find that tumbleweed—then get back to father.
Luckily for Morton, the tumbleweed had got itself wedged in between some small cacti, and Morton was able to stand over it at last, feeling oddly triumphant. He reached down and picked it up in his claws, and just then remembered that this particular one was a lot heavier than most and he almost dropped it.
That golden sheen in the tumbleweed once again attracted Morton's eye as he examined it. He dug into the tumbleweed, breaking it into little pieces until the golden thing was all that was left. It was a yellow gem!
"WHAT IS THIS." Morton said to himself blatantly. He threw the gem back and forth between his hands, wondering what it was. In his life in the desert, he'd never seen anything like it. Ever. Once again, Morton had the feeling that he wanted to leave this place, but Sr. had told him many a time how dangerous it was out there without his guidance, and Sr., as stated before, had been shunned by the local towns and didn't really have any other place to go.
Maybe Sr. knows what this golden thingy is, thought Morton, nah, he DEFINITELY knows.
Morton waddled back to his home, avoiding the rattlesnake's place and the more difficult for the terrain he'd crossed. He'd run a bit less than a whole track lap the first time over, and then the second time back, and eventually, when he got back with his bleeding toe, he was exhausted.
"MORTON!" screamed Sr. all of a sudden. Morton stopped, jumpscared by the loud noise, looking around. Sr. revealed himself from behind the large rock that obscured their shack from most passersby, and he was scowling. "Da heck have ya been, ya twisted-nosed knave!" For once there was no remorse in his voice.
Morton's slow memory and mind then realized he hadn't told Sr. where he'd gone. He was just in too much of a rush to get that tumbleweed!
"IT WAS FOR A GOOD CAUSE," Morton explained, "DHERE WAS A TUMBLEWEED AND I CHASED IT, AND, AND UM I CAUGHT IT AND BROKE OFF MY TOENAIL BUT GOT A YELLOW THINGY."
Sr. glanced at Morton's bleeding toe, to the yellow gem, to the toe, and back to his son. "Da gem was in there?"
"GEM? IS THAT WHAT IT CALLED?" Morton fiddled with the gem with a newfound interest.
Sr. sighed. His scowl faded, but a ghost of it was still there, like someone had tried to rub it off with one of those big pink erasers. "It's fine, son…ya gettin' older, more independent. You don't have to report back ta me every time. It…you're becomin' a grown Koopa that imma mighty proud of."
Morton looked from the gem to his father. "WERE YOU TALKING TO ME?"
Sr. gritted his teeth and showed it. "Just gimme da gem." He put out an open hand, claws spread out.
Morton hugged it close to his chest. "NO. I FOUND IT FIRST, AND IT NEW. NEVER SEEN BEFORE."
Sr. was uncharacteristically losing his patience fast. "I've seen plenty like it before," he growled, "it makes up the staffs of some of the magikoopas I told you about, in my tales, remember?"
Morton's eyes lit up, and Sr. cursed himself in his mind. "SO, I CAN BECOME A WIZARD TOO?" He smiled, eyebrows lifted.
"No, Morton," said Sr. He exhaled like a disappointed parent preparing themselves for backlash from a lecture they just gave to their child—which was kind of what was going on right now. "You're not gonna learn magic. 'K?"
Morton's upbeat expression vanished like a leaf under a locust swarm. "BUT I WILL. ONCE WE GO BACK TO SOCIETY. THAT IS WHAT YOU SAID."
Sr. lifted his chin up and sucked his lips in. "I'll be honest with ya, son, since you're getting older."
Morton raised one of his big eyebrows, curious.
"We're never leaving this place, never going back to the towns and kingdom with knights and wizards and junk." Morton gasped as Sr. talked with no emotion. "They don't accept us. We're all gonna die out here in the desert someday, and I only live to let you have a glimpse of life. Claudie and I knew the stakes and didn't intend to have you. But we did, and I'm sorry."
Morton stood there, rigid. He felt himself begin to tear up, and his hands trembled. Then he said it: "SO I SHOULDN'T EXIST?"
Sr. cursed loudly and pinched himself. "Uh, son, I mean, uh, I didn't…I was just being honest."
Morton's eyes darted everywhere. Following silence, he threw the yellow gem to the side, but Sr. dove and caught it, landing in some dust. By the time Sr. got up, Morton had disappeared.
Morton Sr.'s POV:
"MORTON KOOPA JR.! Morton! Morton! Son, COME BACK!" Sr. looked around and quickly found the door to the shack ajar, so he slipped inside. He found Morton resting in his flea-bitten sleeping bag, crying.
"Morton…" said Sr. calmly, "I didn't mean what I said. I just…stated my thoughts without some consideration, 'k?"
"BUT IF YOU WERE THINKIN' 'BOUT IT…" whispered Morton, who was looking up at Sr. now through reddening eyes, "THEN YOU HAD TO 'AVE MEANT IT."
Sr. took off his straw hat to reveal his identically small three black strips of hair. "Morton…I'm really sorry, though, okay? For your next birthday…instead of making you some millet pie and laying the work offa ya for the day or two…we can travel."
Morton practically jumped from the floor, and his tears began to change to happy ones. Sr. loved when Morton's stupidity led to easy convincing, though wished it didn't, because then Morton wouldn't be so unfairly stupid. "TRAVEL WHERE? OUTSIDE?"
Sr. knew what he meant by "outside." The lands beyond the mesa. "Yes, son. And if something bad comes…we have each other, right?"
Morton smiled, licking his muzzle to taste his tears—a liquid he hadn't really tasted before, less than his blood. He got up and hugged Sr. tightly. "THANK YOU, FATHER. REALLY, THANK YOU SO LOT."
Sr. chuckled at Morton's incorrect grammar. Thoughts of You could both die came to his mind, but he pushed them away with the thought of We'd be better off than in this wretched landscape. Sr. felt bad for Morton, for technically saying he didn't exist, the first and last time he would ever insult his troubled son like that. He had to make it up to Morton, somehow. Otherwise…
Otherwise, he'd never be a Koopa worthy of going to a holy place after death.
New references to games in this chapter:
13. The tumbleweed containing a Yellow Gem is from Don't Starve, same with the particular Yellow Gem
14. The texture of the clay and stone pickaxe Morton had was that of Minecraft's