When Pa left the holler for a few days on business, he left Uncle Kinxy in charge of war.
And for a while, it worked.
Uncle Kinxy’s style was pure fire: rush in fast, hit hard, overwhelm with shock and awe. Where Pa was methodical and patient, Uncle Kinxy was wild confidence, a storm blazing through. He didn’t slow down to plan every angle, didn’t stop to weave the whole clan into the strategy. He just wanted the win, the loot, the thrill.
And win they did. But it came at a price.
The visiting Robinhood Raiders, those drifting outsiders, carried most of the weight. The holler goblins began grumbling, left sitting on the sidelines, their stars unclaimed, their targets crushed before they even got out of bed. Pa had always believed in team play, making sure every kin had a part, and structure. But Uncle Kinxy, caught up in the rush, hadn’t seen the hurt building behind him.
When Pa returned, he saw the chaos right away.
He wasn’t angry at the win, hell, he liked the win, but to him, the mess of it, the imbalance, the reckless pace, mattered more. He announced he was stepping back in to steady the ship. Not to tear down Kinxy’s success, but to bring the clan back together, to restore structure.
But to Kinxy, it hit like a slap.
He got real quiet after that. Pulled back. Stopped talking.
Ma, always the emotional center, sat Pa down one night, voice tight with concern. “You know he’s feeling attacked, right? He thinks you’re dismissing everything he did. Blaming him for the loss.”
Pa let out a long breath, jaw tight. “I ain’t dismissing him. I didn’t say nothin’ about no loss. It’s about the clan. About keeping balance. He can’t just chase a winning streak and leave everyone behind. We’re a team and that ain’t team play.”
Ma nodded slowly, her eyes heavy. “I know. I agree with you. But he’s young, Pa. He got caught up in the excitement. The rush from going fast and hard and winning.”
They tried to talk to Kinxy, but by then, the wall was already up. Kinxy, hurt and raw, didn’t hear nuance. He heard judgment. He heard rejection. He felt blamed for the near perfect score that slipped away.
“I think he’s gonna leave unless we make this right,” Ma whispered to Pa one night.
“He’s throwing a tantrum,” Pa said flatly. “It’s time to move on and get back to business.”
So Ma did just that, like Pa said. She made no more attempts at resolution.
Two days later, without warning, Uncle Kinxy packed his things, called little Cletus to his side, and left the holler.
Just as Ma had feared.
Just like her dream.
She stood at the edge of the path long after they’d disappeared, her heart aching. She cried for two days, staring down the road, thinking, “Maybe a few days will calm him. Maybe he’ll come back to talk it out.”
But he didn’t.
And Ma didn’t know where he’d gone. So she sat and pondered how she might track him down, how she might make one last attempt at peace.
On the third day, as twilight fell, Ma and Pa were on the porch, discussing war plans, when Ma quietly said, “I’m going to make one last attempt to make peace with Kinxy.”
Pa’s face hardened. “Absolutely not.”
Tears pricked Ma’s eyes, and she gave a small, resigned nod.
Pa saw this and, after a pause, he tried to lighten it. “You’ve been in the sun too long, Ma.” He smiled at her, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“I’ve not had enough sun, actually,” Ma replied, wiping her eyes. “You have no idea just how upset I’ve been over this. I’ve been trying to hold it in, keep it together, not let on, keep my silly feminine emotions to myself.”
Pa’s voice was resolute. “Kinxy betrayed us. He can’t come back.”
Ma said nothing, just wiped her eyes again.
After a long, quiet moment, Pa’s countenance softened. He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, pulled her into a comforting hug and kissed the top of her head. “You’re just being a Ma. I understand.”
Pa turned his attention to a wobbly porch rail and began working on it in silence. Ma sat silently in her rocking chair, staring out at the hills. For a while, there was only the creaking of the rocking chair and the faint clink of Pa’s tools.
Finally, Ma spoke, voice quiet. “Is that a hard line, Pa?”
Pa slowed his work but didn’t stop.
“If it is,” Ma continued. “I will honor that. You’re the head of this clan.”
He didn’t answer right away, and Ma thought, That’s it. His silence is the answer. Pa often let his quiet speak for him.
But after a few minutes, Pa set his tool down, sighed heavily, and turned toward her. “No. It’s not a hard line,” he said at last. “It’s up to you. I told you I’d support any decision you make, and this is included.”
Then he brushed off his hands, and walked inside the cabin.
Ma sat on the porch, rocking gently, thinking it over. She could try to track Kinxy down. She probably could do it. But now she had to wrestle with what Pa had quietly handed her: the choice, and the weight of knowing he truly wasn’t on board, not because he didn’t care about her feelings, but because he had already moved past the loss. He knew it was important to Ma, and that mattered to him. She had to hold that, too.
For the next few days, life in the holler rolled on. There were wars to plan, tasks to complete, work to be done. Only a couple of the cousins really knew what had happened; the rest didn’t even seem to notice Uncle Kinxy’s absence. No one asked.
Maybe, Ma thought, they didn’t want to ask.
Maybe, just maybe, she was taking this too seriously. Goblins move on. For whatever reason, they do. Connections meant a lot to her when they were made, but maybe not everyone shared that same view. And maybe…that was okay.
She spent time in the sun, swimming laps in the spring, thinking, ruminating, reflecting. And slowly, she came to the conclusion that Pa had been right. She didn’t necessarily agree with how he’d publicly handled it, but he was right: Kinxy had made the choice to leave, instead of working toward a resolution.
As hurtful as that was, because she and Kinxy had spent so much time together, she had to accept it was his choice.
One evening, Ma and Pa sat on the porch watching the sun dip behind the hills. Fireflies flickered in the tall grass, and a few goblins tumbled around the field, sparring in mock battles, preparing for the next war.
“I feel better after being in the sun a bit,” Ma confessed. “And I want to thank you for not treating me like some silly, overreacting little girl and for giving me space to process. I still wish things hadn’t gone the way they did, but you were right. Kinxy made the choice to leave. It is what it is. And I need to move past it and focus on what we have here now. I love the connections we build here, but I need to remember not everyone values them the same way I do.”
Pa reached over, gave her hand a gentle pat. “You’re the glue,” he said quietly.
Ma gave a small, self conscious laugh. “I dunno about all that, really. I just want a big, happy goblin family here in the holler, all kicking ass together.”
Pa took a sip of his shine, leaning back in his chair. Neither of them spoke after that. They just sat side by side, rocking gently, watching the sun slip behind the hills, and letting the silence hold the rest.
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