Chapter Three
New Clothes
~~*~~
So did the Orc findeth
rest and raiment, food and drinketh. And new friends.
~~*~~
He turned over. He instantly wished he hadn’t, and turned
back. The sun was in that direction. Though Tia’s home was in high forest, the
sun still peeked through the boughs and through the drapes and into his eyes.
Even though they were closed, it was still too bright. He grunted angrily.
They put him in her
room after showing him the washroom and bathroom, and after cleaning his wounds
and binding his injured ankle, elbow, knees, and hip, and after feeding him.
“You’re in rough
shape,” said Tia’s mother, who told him her name was Andylyr. “You’ve been
through hell and back.”
He watched her. “Hell
… yes …”
He had watched in
astonishment as the very earth opened and swallowed his kind as the Great Eye
of Sauron crumbled and exploded and was gone. Lightning flashed and the lava
mountain exploded … and there were the humans, unharmed! It was as though the gods
had judged the whole of Orckind! The humans stood there—unharmed!
How did he survive? Why did he survive? The questions gnawed at him incessantly. So did
another: Was he the last Orc left alive?
He asked Andylyr.
She looked up from her work wrapping his ankle and shook her head sadly.
“I know the war is
over, Mr. Krapp, and I know Sauron is gone. There was a great explosion and the
skies lit up and the earth shook, and then the gloom lifted. We knew then that he
was gone. We haven’t seen other Orcs since. That’s all we know. I’m sorry.”
They fed him after
he washed. They let him sit with them at his table and treated him like one of
their own. He ate with his hands and did his very best to control himself and
to keep the food from splashing them or getting everywhere.
The meal was
delicious, and he marveled that such was so. It was as though his Orc innards
had developed a sudden taste for it! As the light drained from the forest and
the hearth warmed the home, Krapp felt drowsiness like a heavy blanket cover
him. Tia and Andylyr helped him to Tia’s room and laid him down on her bed.
He had always heard
about human beds—how soft they were, how comfortable, how warm. Orcs had always
laughed in derision about it. It spoke to humans’ great weakness and softness.
The great Orc Commander Shtrack proudly slept on rusty nails and had his
corporals assault him twice nightly with hammers. He pissed over cliff edges in
high winds and leaned his huge arse over open fires to take a dump. If he got
burned, he yelped in delight. That was the standard all Orcs were to aspire to.
Krapp had found it way
over the top.
Tia and her mother
covered him and left him in peace. He was asleep before they closed the door.
The light in Tia’s
room was too bright now that it was morning, and so he rose. He looked down at
Tia’s bed, and then bent closer. Though he had washed the night before, he was
still so dirty—as were his threadbare clothes—that he had left an imprint of
his person on her clean sheets.
An Orc wouldn’t
care about such things. Or would one? If he was the last one left alive, so
blessed by the gods who had extirpated the rest of his kind, then it stood to
reason that the gods wanted him to
care, as he was doing right now.
He did care. He winced at the outline, then
hissed between gritted teeth. He scratched behind his ears and looked down on
his person and tried cursing in the Black Tongue, but couldn’t. What came out
was, “Piggy schtupping sucky stupid flat bastard-thing.”
(What the hell did
“schtupping” mean?)
In any case, the
little human’s bed was a mess—and he was responsible for it. Did it matter now that
Orcs wouldn’t have given it even a moment’s notice? He very likely was the entire Orc race now. He would decide what Orcs did or didn’t do!
He opened the door
and went to the kitchen. He looked out the window over the basin. Tia was in
the garden tending it. She was humming. He listened with an empty smile on his
face.
Smiling. For Orcs it was a reflex action reserved
solely for moments of barbaric cruelty and joyous malevolence, not for moments of innocent sweetness.
It was enough to shake him from his reverie.
There was fresh
water in the basin; he went to dip his face in it and drink his fill, but
stopped. Humans used cups. There was one next to the basin; he grabbed it and
dipped it in and emptied it in two gulps, then did it again, then again. He put
the cup down as Tia began a new song. He could smell food—but it was nowhere to
be seen. He was very hungry.
Instead of tearing
the house apart, as he wanted to, he stepped outside and went to his new
friend, who beamed up at him from her work.
“Krapp!” she yelled,
and sprang to her feet. As innocent as the melody she had been humming, she ran
to him and threw her arms around him. “You look so much better! How do you
feel?”
It was only then
that he became aware of it: his injuries … were gone. All of them!
His knees, his
ankle, his hip, his back … It was as though he had never been hurt!
She squeezed him
tighter. Unsure what to do, he put his arms around her and held her back and
blankly considered the miracle of his newfound health.
“I feel … I feel …
better,” he rasped absentmindedly.
“Oh good!” she cried into his chest. She let
him go. “Wanna help me with the garden?”
“Y-Yes … yes.”
She must have
sensed his hunger, because she exclaimed, “Oh my, where are my manners? You must be famished! Momma left you a plate before
she left for the village this morning. Come on—I’ll show you where it is!”
She wiped her hands
on her apron and turned to walk into the house. The dirt on her hands reminded
him, and he croaked out, “I … your bed …” He shook his head. “Dirt. Clothes.
Sheets.” He grabbed the bottom of his torn shirt. “Forgive me, young human.”
She seemed confused
by what he was trying to say, but it didn’t trouble her for long. She took him
by his hand and said, “Food. Don’t worry about my bed. C’mon.”
He ate ravenously. Tia watched him, fascinated. When he
finished, which was in just a handful of seconds, she hurried to get him more.
She returned with his plate piled twice as high as before and sat excitedly and
waited.
He stared at the
food, then at her, then at the table and the floor. There was food on both.
He dug in again,
but with the brakes on, as he had the previous evening in the presence of the
human mother. He swallowed a handful of fried potatoes and glanced at her.
She grabbed the
unused napkin next to his plate and said, “Hold on. You’ve got a big chunk on
your chin.”
She reached and wiped
his chin. He stared at the cloth.
“It’s called a
napkin,” she told him. “It’s used to keep your face clean while you eat.”
He took it from
her. There was a design on the cloth: a house in a forest.
“Momma made it. She’s
really talented at things like that.”
“Why …” he rasped
“… why do humans need to keep their faces clean … while eating?”
She shrugged. “I
know, right? I asked Momma about it once, and she told me that it’s ‘manners’. ”
“ ‘Manners’?”
She shrugged again.
“They’re like … like … laws. Yeah, laws. Do this and do that. Don’t do this and
don’t do that.”
“Why?”
She thought for a
long time. “I don’t honestly know.”
“Have I broken
laws? If so, forgive me, little one. I shall clean the table and floor right
away—”
He went to get up,
but Tia grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry about it! We can get it later. You
haven’t broken any of my laws, so
don’t worry.”
He sat back down. “You
have your own laws?”
She nodded happily.
“Don’t you?”
He looked up. “I don’t
… know.”
“Momma has laws. I
should teach you them so you don’t break them later. They are more important
than my laws.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s
Momma!”
“You are most kind,
little one.”
“Tia. Call me Tia.”
He stared at her.
“Tia.”
She smiled wider.
“Don’t worry, it isn’t a law. I just like it when you say it.”
Another cruelty-free,
nonviolent smile formed involuntarily on his mouth. He felt it rise and
curiously fingered his mouth with his free hand (the other was still gripping potatoes).
She watched him,
puzzled.
He brought his
attention back to her. “I like your name, little human: Tia. Tia it shall be.”
“Go on and eat!”
she said. “But … wait!”
She jumped up and
hurried to the pantry and grabbed a smaller plate, which she loaded with
potatoes. She returned and sat down.
As he ate, she did
too, and just like he did, ravenously with her hands.
After cleaning up, she took the time to explain her mother’s
“laws.”
“She hates it when
I use all the hot water in the morning,” Tia explained. “It’s when she bathes.
That’s definitely a law.”
Krapp nodded. “Hot
water.”
“And … and … oh,
yeah. She likes the bathroom to stay clean.”
“Clean … bathroom?”
“Yeah! Bathroom!
It’s part of the washroom!” She studied him. “You do know what a bathroom is, don’t you?”
“It is …” he rasped
“… it is the place where humans … bathe—? Did you not show it to me the evening
last?”
“Yes,” she nodded
happily. “It’s also where to go when you need to poo or pee.”
“Poo … pee.” He
nodded unsurely.
“Yeah … umm … You
eat food or drink water, and later you have to go.”
“Go. Go where?”
Tia laughed. “No!
Just go! The bathroom!”
“I am sorry, little
one—Tia—I do not understand …”
Tia looked down at
the table for a long time, then nodded excitedly. “I’ve got it! C’mon!”
She grabbed his
hand.
They stood and left
the house. The light of the day was oppressive, but the trees’ shadows kept it from
become unbearable.
Behind the home was
a corral. A horse waited in the enclosure, eating grass. It spied him and
lifted its head and watched him.
Orcs and horses did
not get along. If a horse spied an
Orc, it generally snorted and galloped away, or, as with warhorses, charged.
Getting on one was impossible. Hell, getting near one was!
But this one, only
scant feet away, did nothing but continue to stare at him. With an indifferent
grunt it lowered its head and continued eating.
He gawked.
Was he even an Orc
now? Had something happened to him that changed him forever, that made him
utterly unique from his kind?
“Krapp? Are you all
right?”
He gazed down. Tia
stared up at him with concern.
He gathered his
wits and nodded without conviction.
That was enough for
her. She looked back at the horse. “He’s mine. His name is Shygar. His momma is
Momma’s horse. Her name is Lloril’i. Go on, pet him!”
She released his
hand.
“I …” he began.
“Go on, go on!” she
said. She got behind him and gave him a push. “He’s really nice. I can tell he
likes you. Go on!”
A horse … like an Orc?
He took a couple
uneasy steps forward. Shygar lifted his head, his mouth working steadily on
long strands of hay.
He took another step
forward, then two more. He was within touching distance. With great caution he
reached and touched the stallion’s nose.
He had always
wondered what horses felt like. Now he knew. He couldn’t keep the smile off his
face, or a tiny squeal of delight from escaping his mouth.
“Well …” he
breathed. “Well … A magnificent beast
… magnificent …”
It was no wonder
that Wargs couldn’t defeat these! He had ridden Wargs before. Their hair was
brittle and pointed and crawling with fleas and ticks. They were foul-tempered
and hard to hang on to. But this …
“Magnificent …” he said again.
The horse whinnied
contentedly and went back to eating.
But not before
lifting its tail.
“See?” exclaimed
Tia. “That’s poo! Do you get it now?”
He did.
He tried to explain that Orcs didn’t have to “poo” or “pee”
all that much. When she asked how much, he tried thinking.
“Days … I think.”
“Days? You don’t
have to go for days?”
He thought for a
long time, then hesitantly nodded.
“Wow.”
She looked with him down at her bed. “I thought I’d washed
myself better. I’m sorry, Tia.”
She gazed at him
and then punched his arm. It wasn’t hard, but it surprised him. He stared.
“This is dirty? This? You haven’t seen dirty! If I spend a day in the corral or go play by the stream
I’ll easily get dirtier than this.
This is nothing! C’mon, I’ll show you how to change the sheets. It’s easy, and
now it’ll be fun!”
“Why is that?”
“Because you’ll be
helping me!”
He helped her
change the sheets. He actually watched more than helped, with an effort to
remember the dizzying array of steps. When she finished, she noticed his
puzzlement and said, “You’ll get it eventually, don’t worry.”
Her mother (Andylyr, he reminded himself) walked through
the front door that moment. Tia grabbed his hand. “C’mon! I think she’s got
something for you. C’mon!”
Andylyr was at the
kitchen table, where she set down a large cloth bag stuffed full. She gazed at
Tia, who rushed up for a kiss, and then at Krapp.
“Mr. Krapp,” she
said, “I’d like you to come and take a look at these. Some should fit you. I
used to be a seamstress and have a pretty good eye for size. Will you come
here, please?”
Krapp approached
her. He gazed at the bag. Andylyr opened it and started pulling out … clothes?
Clothes!
Shirts and pants, a
belt, even shoes! There was a hat; it was stuffed in so tight that it had
deformed. Before he could touch it Andylyr took it and punched it back into
shape, then handed it to him.
“Try it on,” she said. “It won’t fit, but
it’ll give me a good start as to know what to do.”
He took the hat—it
had a very wide brim and pleasant contours on the top, and was made of
leather—and tried putting it on. His ears got in the way, and so merely
balanced on the tops of them. Tia held up, then squealed with laughter. “Oh,
that’s really cute! Oh Krapp!” She
ran to him and threw her arms around him.
Andylyr was smiling
wryly, and chuckled softly. “I must agree,” she said. She glanced at Tia.
“Lloril’i is probably getting grumpy. Would you get her stabled and fed, love?”
“Okay, Momma!
Krapp, do you want to come and help?”
“He can’t, love.
He’s going to try these clothes on.”
“But I want to
help! Can’t I help?”
Krapp, confused utterly
by the day, then did something that seemed both part of him and not part of
him. He reached and cupped Tia’s cheek and rasped quietly, “Go on, young one.
You can help later. I promise.”
~~*~~
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