Chapter Nineteen: Upturned Frown
The misty morning light blanketed the small couch and groggily, the rotund occupant blinked his moist vision clear.
Moreau had often yearned to rest himself on both of the couch cushions, but even with the little brown furniture's back padding, his heavy hunched self would certainly roll right off the other side and plop to the floor. Moreau chuckled. Then again, he figured that his precious person with her mighty little arms could get him up in no time.
As the haze of sleep ebbed away, the fish-man stopped slouching and with a broad yawn, cautiously stretched his arms and legs in front of himself; ready to spend the day with his best friend. Moreau smiled from last night's declaration...
We're besties! We're besties! We're besties! We're besties! We're besties! We're besties! We're besties! We're besties!
Moreau listened... The cabin was still quiet. However, he no longer worried about Joy leaving. The trust they shared would never allow that to ever transpire. Moreau wondered if she was still asleep. Before retiring for the night, they had spent a lot of time playing shadow puppets and as Joy promised, they read a book before she gave him his goodnight hug.
The fish-man's smile extended... That included another butterfly kiss, too.
With a low grunt, Moreau shuffled to his feet and when he turned around, he was surprised to find the young woman awake, sitting at the bottom of the bed. With deep red ruffled hair, she was still in the oversized navy sweater and dark blue socks that she had put on the previous evening. Her dress clothes were draped over the pine baseboard.
Fronting Joy's back, Moreau rumbled his big voice box.
"Uh'hem! Good morning... Uhh... sleepy head!"
He chortled happily for remembering her dialect for a tired person.
Joy peered over a small shoulder, smiling softly.
"G'morning, Mo. I've been up for a bit. Tho, I am feeling kinda... sleepy.
Moreau moved up to the twin bed. "Is, is Joy feeling uhhh... icky wicky?"
The woman swayed her head from side to side and the fish-man's concerned pout stretched into a jovial grin.
"Are you sure..? Maybe Joy needs some peas." He held up his hand. "Huh-ha... Peas helped this old part-merman."
Moreau wiggled his left, webbed fingers in the air while humming a nautical tune of which he was somehow aware. Joy's face still carried a light beam but it was not accompanied with the usual bubbly giggles.
Moreau's hand lowered as he took a wide pace forward. He noticed that his friend's bright green orbs didn't seem so lucent. Actually, they were teary... Very teary. She did mention that she was still tired. Perhaps she didn't sleep well last night?
But with closer inspection, he saw that the sclera of the woman's eyes was tinted pink and her eyelids were puffy... Very puffy. The realization triggered Moreau to gasp lowly to himself.
Oh... no...
The fish-man's transmuted throat made a spasm from a resounding gulp.
"J-Joy... Are you-you... crying?"
Weakly rotating her dangling sock-covered feet, Joy bowed her head but kept it down.
"A wittle," she replied meekly, her shiny eyes raising to meet his. "I... I hope I didn't wake Mo up."
Although he was feeling quite worried, Moreau's mouth-line raised somewhat. Even sad, Joy remained so courteous towards him.
"No, no, no. I woke up all on my own. ...And, and it's all right. Remember, it's not good to..."
"...keep tears trapped inside," she finished softly.
The curved corners of the young woman's rosy lips arose. But they flattened as her sights fell on a flat object that was lying atop her covered, petite thighs.
Moreau watched her place a hand over the cover of a storybook. It was the fairy tale in which they had read last night. Now that Moreau dwelled on it, unlike the previous 'story-time', Joy wasn't as chirpy when she narrated this particular tale with him.
"Joy doesn't like that book?" he queried, gesticulating to the aforementioned hardback. "We, we... can get rid of it. We could use it to warm up the fireplace."
"Eep!" The woman clung the book to her sweater. "Oh, please don't do dat, Mo! ...I... I really like it."
Moreau exhaled a deep, detained breath. He was glad to hear that for he liked all of his storybooks!
As Joy replaced the book on her lap, the fish-man shuffled near the pillow. And with a strained, low groan, he managed to scoot himself onto the twin bed, which thankfully wasn't very lofty. His bottom sank as the mattress dipped, causing the bedstead to creak from his weight.
Gingerly, with papery hands on the brown sheeted, cottony rim, Moreau wiggled up and down a few times. This was the first time that he'd ever sat on this bed. It was much softer than the sofa. He sighed wistfully. It must be nice to feel so relaxed and weightless while drifting off to slumber...
Ignoring the desire of sleeping normally, Moreau returned his focus to his downcast friend. She was circling her fingers over two of the upright brown animals on the hardcover's illustration: Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
"I got another nickname," she admitted quietly.
"Oh?" Moreau flittered his eyes. "You do?"
"Uh-huh... it's Baby Bear. And my mom's nickname's Mama Bear. But da names're just used between us." She ran a left digit over the water-stained title. "And back in L.A, we have dis same book."
The fish-man's mouth parted. So his book collection was from outside the Village?
"It's Mom's favorite story," Joy continued. "The book was hers when she was wittle. Grandma used ta read it ta her all da time. Den, we started reading it together."
Joy's tracing fingers stopped on the center bear that was wearing a lavender shawl and her smile spread a bit broader.
"Mom said dat Mama Bear looks like her... Tee-hee... and she kinda does... Dis Mama Bear likes purple, too. And she's got eyes like my mom... Silver."
Moreau emitted a puzzled hum and Joy giggled briefly again.
"Y'see... Mom's eyes are dis nice gray color, but dey kinda light up when she's really happy..." The woman took a few seconds to breathe out troublingly. "Or when she's really upset... I... I hope Mom forgives me for getting losteded."
With an emerging frown, Joy's chin trembled and Moreau placed a hand over hers as she resumed her concerns.
"I really didn't try ta run away, Mo! I... I only wanted ta show Mom dat I could do some things without her... Now... I don't wanna be without her."
The young woman finally stopped staring at the book and blinked her damp lids at her attentive friend.
"I'm, sorry, Mo... I know ya promised ta help me become unlosteded when da snow's gone, but... I'm just really missing my Mama Bear."
Moreau sadly viewed his friend using the long sweater sleeve to wipe her watering eyes and his vision was also becoming blurry. He certainly could resonate with wanting his miraculous, maternal figure right by his side.
"I'm pretty sure dat tomorrow's my birthday," said Joy after a couple of sniffles. "It was da reason Mama Bear and me went on vacation. I hope... she- isn't t-too sad 'cause she can't- cele-brate my birth-day with me 'cause... I-I got l-losted-ed."
Hearing this as the little voice hitched and shake, triggered the fish-man to swallow profoundly with a jutted lower lip. Again, he was all too familiar with the distress of wishing a parent to come back for him... Hoping she still didn't hold any contempt for his failures at being her devoted son... And to see how much happiness her latest gift has brought him. And maybe... she could also be Joy's 'Mother', too.
That is if Mother Miranda was still alive...
Moreau sensed the rumbling return within his heavy chest from the dark consternation. But presently, he had to space himself from the pair of inner fighting wolves because he had an important priority... To show Joy that she no longer was lost. Moreau had to make his friend see how happy she was here; just how happy she had made him. They were the Lords of the Lodge, after all!
Then, an unseen twinkle gleamed in the fish-man's cloudy right eye, and his heart raced from his smartness.
"Joy will be unlosteded very soon," he declared at length, patting her knuckles.
The pining woman looked at her friend, rubbing a sniffling nose with the back of her free hand.
"I know, Mo... But it just feels like it's been such... s-such a long time since I-I saw her..."
"I understand, and, and I'm very sorry about that. But Joy will have a mother again very soon!"
"I... sure hope so..."
Joy observed the fish-man's wide mouth growing wider, initiating her eyes to become larger as well.
"Mo? What is it?"
After giving her hand a small squeeze, Moreau clapped his palms together.
"But in the meantime, how about..." He separated his hands. "...we celebrate your birthday tomorrow in our lodge!"
Rapidly, Joy blinked several times. "Have a birthday party? ...Here?"
Moreau bowed his big head deeply, though he had no idea how to partake in any kind of party. For as far as he knew, he was never invited to any. Nonetheless, the former aligned Lord of the Village had viewed people with birthdays on his video box and had enviously spied a few festivities by families in the village... Whatever those events contained, the villagers appeared to be jolly...
That is before they were brought to his clinic and laboratory for experimentation. Moreau brushed the cagey hindsight aside.
"I think a uhh, birthday party would make you happy... Would... Joy like one?"
His hopes began to rise when his friend's sorrowful lips began to elevate, too.
"Joy... Joy would really like dat... a lot."
"Good! ...Good! Huh-ha... ha..." The fish-man idly scratched the side of his face. "Uhhhhh... Now could Joy tell Mo how to... celebrate a birthday?"
"What?" The young woman's mouth went agape. "Didn'tja ever have a birthday party? Or whud'bout going ta one as a family guest?"
Her friend's merry mien waned, shaking his hung head, and this time, she took his hand into her own.
"When's your birthday, Mo?"
As if his enzymes glued his gloomy sights to the floorboards, the fish-man made an invisible shrug.
"N-no one had ever remindeded me what day it was. So, so I don't h-have a b-b-birthday."
Moreau slowly turned his head partway to see his friend and he blinked with sheer surprise. The unblinking bright green orbs were so enlarged, he speculated that making all those animal shapes during shadow puppets made her think she really was an owl!
Placing the book on the pillow, Joy hopped off the bed and faced her friend.
"No! No-no-no-no-NO!" She shook both her head and hands at once. "We can't have dat!
Moreau canted his view of the huffed little being in front of him.
"So..? Joy... doesn't want a birthday party?"
"NO-! I mean YES! But it's gonna be a birthday party for both'a us!"
"Both of us?" The fish-man repeated.
Joy jerked her shoulders with outspread, open hands. "Why not?! You're only one year older a year. So if no one told'ja da day ya were born den why not pick a special day for yourself?"
"I... I can choose a birthday for me?" A long grin started to grow on Moreau's creased face. "...Really?"
"Really, really!" was the firm reply, the light and chipper voice coming back in full swing. "And if ya want, we can share da same day dat I was born, so da party'll be for you and me!"
The woman beamed from the rising feeling of determination to help her friend as he has helped her.
"I'll show ya all about party stuff! And presents, playing party games, and best'a all..." Licking the broadest grin, she patted her little midsection. "We get ta have Birthday cake."
Moreau's eyes blinked profoundly with a toothy smile, he could share a special day with his precious person!
"Oh, yes, yes, YES! Mo's birthday will be tomorrow, too!"
"Yay! We'll have a double birthday in one day! Tee-hee, dat kinda rhymed."
After nodding happily, Moreau mulled briefly to himself then looked at his bouncy friend.
"Is... birthday cake better than cheese?"
The bottom of Joy's feet stayed on the floor and she beamed while crinkling the short bridge of her nose.
"Oh, yes! Birthday cake's so much better dan stinky winky cheese-! Oops!" She momentarily put a palm over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Mo! I shouldn'tna said dat."
But the young woman's smile was renewed when her friend started chortling loudly.
"It's, it's all right! He-hee-hee, my cheese is very... stinky winky!"
"Welp, cake smells really good." She licked her lips again. "And it's really sweet, too!"
Moreau felt the moisture in his mouth rising as he swallowed with an excited grin. The fish-man never had any cake, never mind, birthday cake. But if Joy's palate enjoyed it, then he certainly would, as well.
And because of his precious person's culinary skills making him better, he wouldn't have to worry about indigestion!
"Yes, yes... birthday cake!" agreed Moreau, shaking his fists in confident delight. He paused. "Oh... But... there aren't any cakes in the food pantry." He scratched his temple. "Where would we get one?"
"We're gonna make one!" Joy proclaimed with a skip to kneel beside her backpack. "I always keep dis recipe dat my grandma taught me for a... just-in-case cake day!"
Inside the pack, she opened an inner zippered pocket and pulled out a very crumpled, folded piece of writing paper.
"Dis recipe's super-duper easy and I'm sure dat our pantry has got everything we need."
Beaming, Moreau's mutated organ fluttered within his wide ribcage.
Our pantry.
"But first..." Joy laid the recipe down and distended her arm. "I'll need Mo's help."
With an eager grunt, Moreau got to his feet and readily clasped his hand with hers. And the best friends made their way to the right entry of the kitchen and stood in front of the cast-iron oven.
Releasing her hold, the woman gestured to the old cooking appliance.
"Mom never lets me use an oven but Grandma did. But I still never use it alone." She placed her hand atop the fish-man's cloaked shoulder. "But with da help'a my bestie, I think we can bake our birthday cake together."
Moreau slowly blinked in full awe at the tender assurance and from being reminded of them being best friends. He took a step forth and scanned the broad, black oven's silver stovetop, two glass doors with handles, and something round attached to the right, larger entry...
Why did this thing have two openings? And what on flat earth was that circle thing with all the numbers?
Moreau's big, brow ridge furrowed more so. It all appeared to be... so complex...
"I know ya said dat ya never used dis oven before," remarked Joy, anxiously folding her hands to her bosom. "But do ya think you can help me use it for our birthday cake?"
With a sharp breath, Moreau made a terse nod. "We'll figure it out, Joy! Our birthday cake is at stake!"
"Tee-hee-hee! Mo just rhymed, too!"
Joy stopped giggling and observed the right door of the oven. "Oh, dat circle thingy is da... thermometer. Dat tells us how hot da oven is so we can bake at dat right temperature."
Moreau partly swung around to his friend. "Joy is super-duper smart!"
The rubescent woman averted her sights fleetingly. "Thanks, Mo! I baked with Grandma many times, so I know a lotta cooking stuff."
Judiciously, with thin hands pressing onto knobby knees, the fish-man peered into the oven with Joy observing overhead.
"Have ya used an oven like dis, before, Mo?"
"Not... really..." Moreau pulled the glass doors apart. "But I did have a little woodstove."
Joy tilted her head. "What's a... woodstove?"
"Uhhh... a stove that uses wood?"
"Okay, dat makes sense." Joy made a pondering pucker. "But... isn't a... woodstove an oven, too?"
Well..," droned Moreau with a hand barely cupping his bumpy jawline, "it used to heat things on top of it. But then, it just burned... logs only..."
The fish-man's eyes widened. Logs! He had recognized some leftover charred wood in the left oven's door. Clumsily, he turned to look at his friend.
"This oven uses logs like a big woodstove. So, so, so I think it'll work like my old woodstove!"
"Yay!" squeaked the young woman, happily hopping to her friend's side. "Inside it, I see extra pots and a... ummm... oh, a bunt pan!"
"Uhh, what's a..." Moreau paused when a snort escaped his short nose. "...a b-butt pan?"
"Tee-hee-hee! Tee-hee-hee! Oh my- Oh my goodness, Mo! It's a bunt pan! It's just a big doughnut-shaped pan for baking!"
Moreau nodded. He'd enviously viewed people on the T.V. munching on the appealing circular pastries. Did cakes taste like doughnuts?
Joy grinned from ear to ear. "But it means we get birthday cake!"
Ardently, Joy left the kitchen and jogged up to the bed's baseboard, swooping her clothes in her arms.
"What's Joy doing?" asked the fish-man as he wobbled in the living quarters.
"I'm getting dressed so we can have breakfast right now!"
"Uh... okay. But... why the rush?"
The woman trotted to the ceiling curtains. "'Cause there's lots'a stuff ta do for our special day tomorrow!" She glanced at her friend with a very motivated smile. "Alright?"
"Oh! Yes! All right, Joy!"
Joy drew the drapes to begin dressing while Moreau hurriedly hobbled for the kitchen again. He decided that another helping of wheat crackers and fruit preserves would be a fast and energizing breakfast. For the sooner he and Joy would eat, the sooner they could get to work.
And of course, the sooner there would be a birthday cake!