The holler was buzzing with war prep for Territory Wars. Goblin cousins running drills, upgrading their bases, working on their defenses, and doing occasional attacks. The birds chirped, the hogs grunted and wandered through, Bacon the pig slept mostly but kept his eyes and ears open for any mischief impending.
But something was just slightly off.
Ma wasn’t around as much, keeping order.
It wasn’t unusual for Pa to be absent. He had lots of business within and outside the holler that kept him occupied, and he tended to swoop through like a ghost most days. Ma was the only one who saw him consistently.
Except Ma hadn’t seen him either for about a week.
She had become ill and was spending much of her time in bed. She was still dragging herself out to check on things and leave orders in the war barn for the goblins to find so they had some direction, but she wasn’t front and center like usual.
Pa hadn’t noticed. Like most of the male persuasion, he had his compartments and had his focus on whatever compartment he was in at any given moment. Sure, he’d been in and out briefly as was his way but hadn’t noticed Ma’s deteriorating state. The pain and stress from the illness had left her feeling out of control — of her body, her thoughts, everything. Jules was by her side mostly, running herbal meds, fussing at her when she tried to do more than she should, keeping her calm when her feverish delusions tried to take over. The rest of the clan were so busy with war prep that they hadn’t noticed, either. At least, not right away.
War was about to start. Ma started trying to sort war scrolls but nothing looked right. She blinked slowly, thinking for a moment that someone had stolen them all. Then remembered…no, she’d just dreamed that. Or maybe not. The line between fever and waking had thinned.
Ma put out a notice in the war barn “I can’t run this one, someone else needs to do it.”
Several stepped up and volunteered, including Pa, by leaving their own notes. Ma let it be what it would be, but when Slaughter saw Pa’s note he made the declaration “Our glorious leader has risen.”
Unable to contain hers annoyance at his sudden appearance long enough to leave a note then disappear again, Ma declared with annoyance “Lucky you.”
Pa heard that. And maybe it was his first signal that something was amiss.
_______
The next day, as he did one of his breeze throughs in the cabin between tasks, he stopped in the doorway of the bedroom where Ma was curled up in bed. Jules was nowhere to be seen in the moment, and, to Pa, Ma might as well have been taking one of her naps.
“Hey,” he said hesitantly from the bedroom doorway. “You okay?”
Ma didn’t answer right away. Everything took more energy than she had at the moment, and her mind was in too anxious of a state due to pain and fear to be thinking more rationally than emotionally.
“Doesn’t matter,” she finally mumbled, not even lifting her head or turning to look at him. She was feeling dismissed, disconnected. Whether that was reasonable or not didn’t matter. Her ill body had also taken over her thoughts through a feverish and medicinal haze and all she knew was he hadn’t said more than two words to her all week, whatever the reason.
Pa didn’t know this. So, he simply huffed, “Fine.” And turned to go. But Ma’s hoarse voice followed him, “Thanks for that confirmation.”
Pa turned abruptly. “Don’t know what it is I did wrong this time,” he said in frustration. Then he threw up his hands, “but okay then.”
“I don’t have the energy to go over this again,” Ma said weakly.
Pa turned and headed towards the cabin door, boots heavier than usual on the floor. He left. Just like that. Ma just closed her eyes and floated in the quiet, thinking maybe she’d just stop being for a while. Let the holler run without her. She didn’t care. Not right now. Not when even standing up made her dizzy and the world had narrowed to pain and fog. Let them sort it out. If the holler burned, it burned.
As Pa stepped out onto the porch, he was met by Jules. She was standing just above the porch steps, having arrived from her own cabin to check on Ma, a jar with a liquid mix in it, likely some kind of healing or pain potion.
“What’d you do?” she asked when she saw the look on his face, eyes narrowed.
He exhaled sharply. “Who knows what it is this time?” he said in exasperation and started down the porch steps shaking his head, but Jules took hold of his arm.
“Whoa, there, buddy,” she said, pulling him back. “Where ya going? You know she’s sick? Like, really sick?”
That stopped him in his tracks. “What?”
Jules scoffed. “Shoulda known you hadn’t noticed.”
Pa took offense. “How was I supposed to know? She didn’t say nothing.”
“She wouldn’t, would she? But it’s clear as day to anyone who has any idea how this holler flows that something is off with her. You didn’t notice how she told the war barn to sort itself out this war?”
Pa rubbed his chin. “Just thought she was giving someone else a chance.”
Jules rolled her eyes. “You, more than anyone, should pick up on it. You’ve been in and out, haven’t said more than two words anytime you come through. So focused on whatever else ya got going on that ya ain’t got time to see nothing else, even if it’s right in your face!”
“I don’t want your lecture,” Pa told her sharply, but his face was starting to etch worry. “To tell me every way I’m wrong.”
“Listen, big man,” Jules sat her jar down on the porch rail with a loud clink. “It aint no lecture, now. I’m telling ya what’s going on. Whatever the reason you ain’t noticed, you ain’t. So here’s the deal.” She leaned in closer to him. “She ain’t herself right now. Been saying and doing crazy shit all week. Folks been talkin’ to her and she just… don’t answer. And she put the wrong herbs in a healing potion yesterday. Ones used for poison.”
Pa looked shocked. “That’s….that’s not like her at all.”
Jules continued. “Your first hint shoulda been that she didn’t handle whatever just went on in there between you two with the normal tempered response she usually has to keep you from getting all in your manly feels. So YOUR job…” she pointed at his chest. “….is to help make her feel cared for right now. The way she does for you and every goblin in this holler. Not just when you wanna see some tits!”
Then she picked up her jar and flounced into the house, leaving Pa stunned on the porch to absorb her words. He stared at the doorway, the weight of her voice settling heavier than he’d expected. He hadn’t meant to miss it. But now that Jules had said it out loud, he saw it. The dimmer war barn. The unfinished potions. The cabin had been cold and quiet every time he’d come through. No scent of herbs floating through the air, no potions bubbling on the stove. And Jules was right; Ma’s response to his question was not typical.
After a spell, Jules re-emerged from inside the cabin. She stopped and looked at him for a long moment then said, “She’s awake right now. Just sayin’.” Then she sat in the porch rocking chair and stared intently at him.
Pa turned and walked back into the cabin, approaching the bedroom slowly and more softened now. He stood at the doorway for a moment, watching her raspy breathing, and had a twinge of regret. He walked fully into the room, sitting on the side of the bed next to her and put his hand lightly on her. “Hey,” he said gently. “I’m sorry you’re sick.”
Ma opened her eyes, looking up at him, “I’m sorry about earlier,” she began. “My tolerance is low right now, my pain potions have me loopy, they’re not working great and I’m hurting, and I should have….”
He rubbed her arm. “Shhhh…..shhhhh. No, don’t worry about any of that. Whatever needs worked out, we will work it out. Right now, we just need to focus on you getting better.”
She smiled weakly. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you. I don’t like being disconnected. I know you’re so busy but….but sometimes….”
“I’m here now,” he reassured her. “I still have things that need tending, but I will be in more often, not gone for days at a time. Whatever you need. Altho I know your sister…” he looked towards the window. “….she’s here. She will make sure all is good.”
“I have to tell you,” Ma whispered, taking his hand. “Some of the things I gave you. The cute pics you keep, the hair ribbon that was your favorite, the little notes I gave you. I…..I threw them in the fire.” She looked up at him. “I shouldn’t have. I was….I’ve been feeling so out of control of everything. My body, my mind, all of it. And, well, at the moment, it seemed to be something I could control so….so….I took them and….”
He kissed her forehead. “It’s ok. I understand. Get some rest. Don’t worry about anything else right now, just get better.”
Then he stood up and walked back out, leaving her drifting off into sleep.
The days moved quiet but steady. Pa kept his word, checking on Ma every day, sometimes just a glance and a touch to her forehead to check temperature, sometimes a low “you need anything?” whispered before heading out to the fields or business past the ridge. Jules kept the potions flowing and the porch guarded.
On the fifth day, a knock came on the bedroom doorframe. Jules peeked in first, followed by a tall figure in a backwards cap, twisting it in his hands.
“You can come on,” Jules said gently. “She’s up.”
Krypto stepped inside, voice barely above a whisper. “Ma?”
She stirred and smiled, pale but alert. “Hey, there young man.”
“You okay?” he asked, stepping close.
“Getting there,” she admitted.
He shuffled a little. “I was worried. I didn’t wanna bug you, but….I’ve been really worried about you.”
Ma reached for his hand. “I know, sugar. I’m getting better, slowly.”
“I hope it’s soon,” he said, then cleared his throat and stood. “You get some rest. The babies miss you in the Nest. I’ll keep ‘em from burnin’ the place down till you’re back.”
That evening, as the sun dipped behind the ridge and cast long shadows across the holler, Ma stirred to the sound of boots on the porch. There was a knock, not loud, just familiar, and then Nickie peeked her head inside.
“You decent?” she teased, holding a basket with something that smelled like peach cobbler.
“Barely,” Ma croaked, but smiled anyway.
Nickie set the basket down and sat beside her. She didn’t launch into small talk or updates.
She just looked at her for a beat, eyes shining. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Ma blinked slow, heart tugging. “That’s real sweet of you.”
“Well, I didn’t want to smother you like Jules does, but I couldn’t not stop by.” She paused. “even the hogs know something’s off.”
Ma chuckled softly. “They probably do. Bacon ain’t come inside once.”
Nickie snorted. “That pig’s loyal, but he’s scared of Jules.”
Ma grinned, and for the first time in a week, it didn’t hurt as much.
In the days after, others trickled in too. Ellie Mae brought “healing elixir” in a mason jar that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon shine, but Pa took one sniff, narrowed his eyes, and promptly confiscated it. Looty shouted greetings from the porch but didn’t dare come in, yelling things like “You better get better before Pa makes me do targets again!” RG left a drawing on her doorstep of a goblin with a spoon in one hand and fire in the other.
And Bacon? He finally waddled in one morning and curled up under her bed like nothing had ever changed.
By the end of the first week, Ma had begun doing more than just resting. She’d made it to the porch every morning, wrapped in one of Jules’ oversized shawls, sipping warm broth and waving halfheartedly at the passing goblins on their way to and from attacks and raids. There was color coming back to her cheeks. Her tone had more bite. She’d even snapped at Jules once when she tried to dose her with the “good” potion, which smelled suspiciously like goat piss.
“I’m fine,” Ma grumbled, swatting the bottle away. “I can mix my own damn tonics.”
“Uh huh,” Jules muttered, arms crossed. “And next you’ll be fixing the war map and cleaning the barn, and I’ll be dragging your limp body back to bed again.”
Pa said nothing, but Ma caught the way he raised an eyebrow as he passed through the room, carrying a basket of donated goblin goodies.
_____
It started as a passing comment Ma overheard through her open bedroom window as goblins walked by. “…they been checkin’ their call mark and still not showin’ up…”
Ma’s eyes opened.
Another voice, quieter. “Same ones. Again.”
She didn’t sigh. Didn’t groan. Didn’t even look annoyed. She pushed the quilt off and stood. The room tilted hard enough to make her pause, fingers gripping the chair until it steadied. Her body wasn’t ready for this. Didn’t matter. She was upright. That was enough. The cabin was quiet. Too quiet. No Jules. No Pa. No one to stop her. Her gaze landed on the belt hanging by the door. Worn leather. Familiar weight. Not hers. She stared at it a second, then reached out and took it down.
By the time she stepped onto the path toward the war barn, the holler had started to notice. Ellie Mae straightened first. Nickie squinted down the path, then blinked. “…why’s she got Pa’s belt?”
A beat. Then, from somewhere off to the side, “Uh oh.”
Another voice, half a laugh: “Someone’s got a date with the woodshed.”
Ma didn’t look at any of them. Didn’t slow. Didn’t answer. She just kept walking.
The war barn quieted the second she stepped inside. Not all at once. But fast. Like instinct had passed through the room before thought could catch up. Scrolls hung half unread. A couple goblins sat where they’d been for too long. No prep. No movement. No urgency. Exactly what she expected. Ma stepped into the center of the barn. Didn’t raise her voice.
“If you signed up for this war…” Her eyes moved across them. Slow. Precise. “…and you’re sittin’ here doin’ nothin’…”
A beat.
“…then get out.”
No one moved.
Ma shifted the belt in her hand just enough for it to be seen. Not a threat. A statement. “We can SEE when you’ve been here and checked your call notes.”
That landed. Hard. A couple goblins suddenly found something real interesting about the floor. Too late. “You see them. You don’t acknowledge. You don’t answer when you’re called. You don’t hit.”
Her voice stayed even, which somehow made it worse. “Decorative ass deadweights sittin’ on a roster don’t win wars.” Silence stretched tight across the barn. “And you think you’re just gonna sit there and collect medals while the rest of us do the work?” A small shake of her head. “No.”
She pointed to Dark Match. “You.” The goblin didn’t move. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even pretend to get up. Just sat there like maybe if he waited it out, it would pass. It didn’t.
“Up.” He didn’t move. Still ignoring.
“Goodfella.” Ma called. He was already pushing off the wall, grin creeping in like he’d been waiting on this exact moment.
“Yeah, Ma?”
“Got your boot?”
“Sure do, polished just this morning!” Goodfella grabbed the goblin by the collar and hauled him up. “Let’s go. Field trip for you.”
Ma didn’t pause. “And you.” Another one. Same story. Same result. “Up.” Still no words from them. No defense. No effort. That told her everything she needed to know. A couple of the bigger goblins stood to assist Goodfella in removal of slackers.
Off to the side, Plague went real quiet. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even pretend to be busy. Just stood there watching goblins get hauled out like he was counting his own blessings one by one. After a second, he straightened, just a little. Like maybe that might help.
From the side, Slaughter leaned back against a post, watching it unfold with a slow grin. “Damn,” he muttered. “Ma went on a slaughter. Glad I survived the purge.”
Nickie crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly, half amused. “Ma stole the belt.”
Ellie didn’t look away. “Yeah… and she means it.
Outside, the sound of boots scuffing dirt and Goodfella’s voice carried back in: “Go be lazy somewhere else!”
Ma lifted the belt just slightly again. “Trend’s over, damn porch decorations.”
By the time she was done, the barn felt different. Cleaner. Sharper. Awake. From outside, Goodfella again, pleased as anything: “Love the smell of a culling in the morning!” A couple goblins snorted. No one disagreed.
Ma stood there a moment longer than she should have. Her breathing just a little too fast now. The edge of the fever creeping back in under her skin as the adrenaline burned off.
That’s when Pa stepped into the war barn. He didn’t speak right away. Just took it in, the empty spaces, names crossed off the roster in bright, red ink, the ones suddenly working, Goodfella tossing the last one out the gate, and Ma still standing there with his belt. He walked up beside her, close enough that he didn’t need to raise his voice.
“Okay,” he said quietly, slight amusement in his voice. “Just breathe.” Ma didn’t answer. Didn’t look at him. But her shoulders shifted just a little.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and paused. “…you’re still burning up.” That was enough. He took the belt gently from her hand, threading it back through his loops like it belonged there again. No correction. No fuss. Just done. His hand settled at her back.
“Alright,” he said, a little louder now. “you done?” He turned her toward the door and started guiding her out. She went. Didn’t argue. Not this time.
Behind them, the goblins were already moving again. Faster now. More aware. “Don’t worry about it, Ma!”
“We got it!”
“Go on, get better!” Goodfella called after her, “Ain’t nobody signing up just to sit after that!”
Laughter followed. Ma didn’t stop walking, but she did turn her head just enough, voice carrying clean back into the barn: “Ain’t nobody better be sittin’ out at all.
Outside, the air hit cooler. Quieter. Pa kept a steady hand on her as they made their way back up the path. “You’re done for today,” he told her. But behind them, the holler ran just a little tighter than it had that morning.
____
It happened on a Tuesday. Nearly two weeks after Ma had first fallen ill.
Pa had come in from the pastures, dust on his boots, muttering something about Looty nearly setting hay bales on fire with a flame flinger. Ma was sitting in the oversized chair, quilt around her shoulders, flipping through her notebook.
He glanced over at her. “How ya feeling?”
“Better,” she answered. “You eat yet?”
“Nope. That’s what I’m here for,” he said and began rummaging through a cracked wooden crate of smoked meats, muttering something about stew or possum hash. “We got deer jerky, pickled eggs, or that leftover soup you refused to eat last night,” he said, holding up a lidded jar and squinting at the label. “Ain’t much of a spread, but it’ll do for lunch, I guess.”
Ma stretched a little under her quilt, the barest mischievous smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. “Well,” she said slow, “I got something you can put in your mouth for lunch.”
Pa froze, his head whipped around, one hand still wrapped around the jar. His eyes flicked over to her, just a little too quick.
“Witchy!” he barked, but it came out more shocked than scolding.
Ma grinned. “What? No like?”
He stared another second, then gave a sharp exhale through his nose and shook his head like he was trying to clear fog. “You just now started walking without your knees buckling. You ain’t got the strength to be mouthing off like that.”
“Just means I’m feeling better,” she said sweetly, tilting her head.
Pa rubbed the back of his neck. “Better don’t mean reckless.”
“Didn’t say I was making promises. Just letting you know the spell’s wearing off and your lunch options might be expanding soon.”
He grunted, trying to hide the twitch of a smile. “You need to ease back into things, Witchy. Don’t make me cast a patience ward on your hind end.’
“Oooo, is that a threat?” Ma grinned playfully. “Will it be the belt?”
He gave her a warning look.
“Please?”
He shook his head, trying to suppress his smile.
“Fine,” she grumbled, sinking back into the quilt. “Guess I’ll just fantasize quietly while you fix your sad little soup.”
“Good,” he muttered. Then, after a beat, real quiet, he added, “But maybe bring that offer back once you can walk a straight line again.”
He walked over before heading out, leaned down, and kissed her forehead with maddening calm. “Behave,” he ordered, but his smirk gave him away.
Then he turned and strode out the door to tend to his next task.
Ma chuckled to herself as it closed behind him, and sunk back into her quilt.
Loading comments...