The holler was calm that evening, the kind of Appalachian stillness that wrapped itself around the trees and cabins like a worn quilt. A low fire crackled at the center of the gathering circle, its soft glow throwing long shadows against the moss covered stones. The goblin cousins had wandered in after dusk, one by one, dragging hay squares and logs into a loose circle. Bacon snored near Ellie Mae’s feet, and somewhere up the ridge, a whippoorwill called.
Ma sat closest to the trail leading to the cabin, perched on the edge of a large straw bale with a half-empty mug of tea in her hand. Pa stood at the edge of the firelight, his signature cream soda and salted caramel whiskey in hand as he surveyed the kin with that familiar unreadable expression and protective stance.
“You know,” Ma drawled just loud enough to break the hush, “I saw that big red checkmark on the scroll tacked to the war barn. Real subtle, Pa. You didn’t say a word, but now the whole holler knows who missed their attacks.”
A few nervous chuckles broke around the fire pit as the cousins glanced up. Pa didn’t respond at first, just wandered over, eased down beside her, and gave her knee a slow, deliberate pat.
“Reckon they got the message,” he said dryly.
Ma laughed. “Classic quiet, sharp Pa energy. Loudest thing you said all week, and you didn’t even open your mouth. Made me giggle all morning.”
He grunted. “Didn’t mean to stir anything. I’ll get more chat time in with the goblins,” he added.
A few cousins snickered.
“Whoa now, Pa speaking in full sentences? Mark the calendar,” RG muttered.
“Better watch out,” Looty added. “He might say two things next week.”
Everyone else around the fire pit broke out into laughter.
“Y’all better hush before he adds a second checkmark,” Ma warned.
“Just figured I’d let the scroll speak for itself,” Pa finished, smirking slightly.
“Weren’t criticism,” Ma said quickly. “I wasn’t asking you to change nothing. I meant what I said the other night. I accept how you show up. That little move just made me smile ‘cause it was so you.”
“Glad I could amuse you,” he stated, then took a sip of his drink.
They sat like that for a bit, just watching the fire and the way it danced across the cousins’ faces as they teased one another and squabbled over Looty’s stolen marshmallows from his recent weekend raid on a human property.
Then Ma sighed and leaned a little closer. “So. The neighbor.”
Pa turned his head slowly. “What now?”
“He propositioned me. For something… I don’t know. To ‘help’ him with a fetish. Just verbal, he says. Not touching. Just….talking.”
Pa’s expression didn’t change, but the air around him shifted. “Let me guess. You danced around it to spare his feelings?”
“I said no, but I said it in a soft kinda way, ‘cause I didn’t wanna cause tension. And I didn’t want him retaliating while I’m here alone. You’re away so much…”
“You need to be more assertive, Witchy. Tell him outright to stop.”
She hesitated, then added, “You know how the side of the storage barn opens up along that back path? The path he always walks through? It’s not locked like it should be. Makes me feel a little too easy to get to, especially when you’re not around. Not that I expect he’d do anything, I don’t get that feeling, but…” she looked away. “…you just never really know someone, I guess.”
He nodded, slowly, understanding what she was saying. “I’ll handle it.”
“I wasn’t askin’…”
“Didn’t ask. I said I’m handling it.”
Ma fell silent.
“And I’m fixing that barn lock first thing in the morning. If someone’s coming near that path again, they’re gonna find it shut tight. Might even rig one of the defense zappers on it. Give anyone who don’t belong a little reminder not to wander where they shouldn’t.”
Ma smirked. “Anyway. I told him to take that energy somewhere else. Maybe join a community where that sorta thing’s welcome. He said he was embarrassed, and I said don’t be. But yeah, I’ve been duckin’ around this holler like a damn cryptid.”
“You’re gonna ask him what the fetish is,” Pa said casually, smirking.
“I absolutely am not.”
“You’re gonna. I see it in your face,” he gave her a playful nudge.
“I’m not curious. It’s already weird enough.”
Pa grinned. “Bet it’s feet. He wants to see your naked feet.”
“Stoooop,” she groaned. “No, he doesn’t!”
“I definitely don’t wanna see your feet either,” he joked.
She shot him a look. “You do. You already said I had nice toes.”
Pa chuckled, caught. “It’s true.”
Krypto, who’d been listening, snorted. “Wait, y’all talkin’ feet now?”
“Shut it,” Ma and Pa said in unison.
The cousins quieted again as the conversation drifted.
“You didn’t even read my war scroll notice about the new guy,” Ma teased. “Just glossed right over it.”
“Maybe.”
“Not maybe,” Ma insisted. “You did.”
“Maybe I glossed over it.”
She arched a brow. “You’re glossin’ right now.”
He laughed. “Okay, fine. I didn’t read it. Consider me properly chastised.”
“Pa,” she said with mock warning, “that’s not how this works.”
“Spoon’s for the littles,” Pa agreed, raising his glass. “And, while we’re at it, what you and Ellie did to the Red Devils….you’re sneaky. That was next level.”
“You’d better glue your mailbox shut, baby daddy,” Ma laughed. “Ain’t nobody stealin’ you away.”
He took a sip from his glass. “My mailbox is always open for you.”
She laughed. “Don’t matter. I already have you.”
A few cousins leaned in slightly, clearly eavesdropping.
“Remember how this all started?” she asked. “I used to send out invites to clansfolk every Sunday, hoping we’d get some good fighters to join us.”
He smiled at her. “You sent me one. That’s how I ended up in the old clan with you.”
Pa looked out over the circle of cousins, the cabins behind them, the firelight flickering off every weathered board and familiar face.
“This,” he said, gesturing to the holler, to the goblins, to the firelight holding off the dark. A pause. “This is all your fault.”
Ma’s grin softened. “No fault here.”
Pa didn’t look away. “Yeah. But this was all built because of you.”
Ma let that sit for a breath, the fire popping softly between them.
“Maybe not so much,” she said. “I couldn’t’ve built it without you teaching me, teaching the others in the early days. That contributed more than you you wanna admit to.” Then she snickered and added, “Though part of this is your fault, you know. You never did like pulling out.”
Pa raised a brow and looked at her sharply. “Don’t start.”
“You’re the one who said it,” she teased gently and gestured lazily to the cousins clustered around the fire. “Look at all these goblins runnin’ around. What’d you think was gonna happen?”
“MA!” Krypto shouted, covering his ears. “That’s not talk for the fire pit!”
“GROSSSS,” Nickie coughed, dramatically leaning away. Ellie gagged along with her before they dissolved into giggles.
Alexis laughed. “That’s funny.”
RG and Looty fake vomited into the firepit. “I’m gonna need a healing potion after that,” Looty claimed.
Bacon the pig snorted in protest at Ellie’s feet.
Ma just grinned and took a sip of her tea. “Y’all oughta be used to grown talk by now.”
Pa, unfazed, took a long, slow sip from his glass and muttered just loud enough, “Ain’t my fault y’all don’t know how to cover your ears.” He grinned and gave Ma’s hand an affectionate pat. “Your fault.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Nope,” he agreed. “We work well together.”
The fire hissed low, the moon crept higher, and the holler settled into its rhythm again. Somewhere deep in the trees, an owl hooted, and the cousins finally relaxed into the warmth of the firelight and each other.
Ma watched Pa quietly for a long moment. Nights like this, when he let the weight of the world fall off his shoulders for a little while and he was present, when the goblin behind the gruff showed through in a joke, a smirk, a half admitted truth and he let his guard down just slightly. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, it reminded her why they’d partnered in the first place.
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