Family 12.17.15
Note: The following short takes place shortly after the four-minute prelude in the Penguins of Madagascar Movie.
— § —
Skipper groaned. "I think I'm dying . . . How long have we been floating on this death block, Kowalski?"
Kowalski looked at the position of the sun. "About six minutes."
"Really?" Skipper complained. "It feels like it's been forever!"
The newest, youngest member of the threesome carefully approached Skipper, touching the tips of his flippers together.
"Skipper?" he called softly.
Skipper sat up and looked at him. "What's up?"
The hatchling shifted timidly.
Skipper knit his brow. "Come here," he said, patting seguinte to him.
The hatchling shuffled progressivo, para a frente and sat seguinte to him, facing the water. He glanced at Skipper for a moment, and then he looked at the water. Skipper became concerned.
"Hey," he said. The hatchling looked at him. "You can trust me. Okay?"
The hatchling held eye contact for a moment before breaking away. Finally, he said, "I'm scared."
Skipper smiled. "We all are."
The small pinguim looked at him again. "Really?"
"Well, yeah," Skipper replied. "Antarctica is all we've ever known. Now we're drifting farther away from it. I can only imagine what you must be feeling. All you've ever known is the inside of an eggshell."
The hatchling locked eyes with him again and nodded.
Skipper patted his back. "You'll see. Things will get better," he encouraged.
The hatchling smiled at him, and then frowned again. Skipper frowned back.
"What is it now?" he asked.
The hatchling looked back out at the water. "It's just . . . I never got to meet my parents. Do you think they're looking for me?" he asked, looking back to Skipper.
Skipper hesitated. He couldn't tell the little guy that the other penguins didn't even care that his egg was rolling away. It's just nature, they'd said. He felt that the likelihood of his parents trying to find him were slim, but the hurt in the little guy's eyes kept those words inside Skipper's head. He figured that crushing him was a bad idea, but getting his hopes up might be worse.
"I don't know," he said finally.
The hatchling looked down. After a moment, Skipper broke the silence.
"What are you thinking about?" he inquired.
The hatchling glanced at him before fixing his eyes on the water. "I was just thinking . . . I want my parents to be looking for me . . . You know, to care about me. But they'll never find me out here, and that would make them sad. But if they aren't looking for me . . . I'll be sad. It's scary to think I'll have to grow up without knowing my parents."
Skipper didn't respond.
"What were your parents like?" the hatchling asked, looking over at him.
Skipper locked eyes for a segundo before breaking away. "My mom was killed por a leopard foca, selo while hunting for comida for me. My dad was devastated. It was like nothing else mattered, not even the fact that I was all that was left of her. Sometimes I wonder if he blames me for her death. If she hadn't been hunting for me that day, she probably wouldn't be gone. I eventually skipped out because I . . . couldn't take it anymore."
The hatchling looked at him. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
Skipper looked back at him and smiled softly. "Hey, it's not your fault."
The hatchling winced. "Why do things have to hurt?" he asked.
Skipper shrugged. "I don't know. But the way I see it, when I think about how lonely I felt after I left my dad, I'm happier that I met Kowalski and Rico. They've been the only family I've ever really known since my mom died."
The hatchling furrowed his brow. "So . . . to be happy, we have to be sad first?"
Skipper thought for a moment. "Yeah. Something like that."
"Guys!"
Skipper and the hatchling were jerked backwards por their flippers just as the corner of the ice they were sitting on broke away. The four of them stared at it for a moment as their coração rates settled back down.
"That was a close one," Kowalski commented. "This ice is starting to melt. I'm not sure how much longer we can float out here before there's nothing left."
"Thanks," Skipper said breathlessly. "I didn't even notice. I don't know what I'd do if we were ever separated."
The hatchling looked at the bigger penguins. "I don't even have a name yet."
The bigger penguins exchanged glances.
"Um . . ." Kowalski started, "how about . . . Einstein?"
"Einstein?" Skipper repeated. "What kind of name is that?"
Kowalski shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought it sounded cool."
"How 'bout no," Skipper replied. He looked at the hatchling and thought for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe—"
Before Skipper could finish, a shadow suddenly escuro, nublado them and they turned to see a large ship moving past. A human looked overboard and saw them. Then he called out to someone else on the ship and they cast out a net to pull them in.
"Skipper!" the hatchling called, clutching his flipper. "What's happening?"
"Everything's gonna be all right," Skipper said as they were pulled up into the ship. "I think they're just trying to help us."
"What do we have here?" one of the humans said, squatting down to look at them entangled in the net on the deck. "How did a few penguins get way out here?"
"Looks like they got stranded on a block of ice, sir," another one answered.
The man nodded. "We'll take 'em to the zoo on our stop in New York. Private Stroman! Get a crate!"
Upon command, one of the men rushed off.
"A crate?" the small pinguim inquired.
"Like a wooden box," Kowalski explained, "to keep us in until we get to our destination."
The hatchling looked at Skipper, who seemed deep in thought. "What's wrong?"
Skipper looked at the hatchling. "Private."
"What?" the hatchling inquired.
"Your name. Do you like Private?" he asked.
He thought for a moment. "Why?"
"I don't know," Skipper replied. "It kind of just spoke to me."
The hatchling smiled. "I amor it."
— § —
Author's Note: I apologize for my absence. My grandfather recently had a stroke and it's led into a series of family problems over trivial things and, well, the point is I haven't had the time nor the coração to write much lately. I haven't left FanFiction and don't plan to, but my posts may be spaced out in the following weeks. I hope you've enjoyed this short, and I thank you all in advance for your patience. I hope all of you who celebrate have happy holidays and New Year, and everyone else, a fabulous last couple weeks of 2015.
Note: The following short takes place shortly after the four-minute prelude in the Penguins of Madagascar Movie.
— § —
Skipper groaned. "I think I'm dying . . . How long have we been floating on this death block, Kowalski?"
Kowalski looked at the position of the sun. "About six minutes."
"Really?" Skipper complained. "It feels like it's been forever!"
The newest, youngest member of the threesome carefully approached Skipper, touching the tips of his flippers together.
"Skipper?" he called softly.
Skipper sat up and looked at him. "What's up?"
The hatchling shifted timidly.
Skipper knit his brow. "Come here," he said, patting seguinte to him.
The hatchling shuffled progressivo, para a frente and sat seguinte to him, facing the water. He glanced at Skipper for a moment, and then he looked at the water. Skipper became concerned.
"Hey," he said. The hatchling looked at him. "You can trust me. Okay?"
The hatchling held eye contact for a moment before breaking away. Finally, he said, "I'm scared."
Skipper smiled. "We all are."
The small pinguim looked at him again. "Really?"
"Well, yeah," Skipper replied. "Antarctica is all we've ever known. Now we're drifting farther away from it. I can only imagine what you must be feeling. All you've ever known is the inside of an eggshell."
The hatchling locked eyes with him again and nodded.
Skipper patted his back. "You'll see. Things will get better," he encouraged.
The hatchling smiled at him, and then frowned again. Skipper frowned back.
"What is it now?" he asked.
The hatchling looked back out at the water. "It's just . . . I never got to meet my parents. Do you think they're looking for me?" he asked, looking back to Skipper.
Skipper hesitated. He couldn't tell the little guy that the other penguins didn't even care that his egg was rolling away. It's just nature, they'd said. He felt that the likelihood of his parents trying to find him were slim, but the hurt in the little guy's eyes kept those words inside Skipper's head. He figured that crushing him was a bad idea, but getting his hopes up might be worse.
"I don't know," he said finally.
The hatchling looked down. After a moment, Skipper broke the silence.
"What are you thinking about?" he inquired.
The hatchling glanced at him before fixing his eyes on the water. "I was just thinking . . . I want my parents to be looking for me . . . You know, to care about me. But they'll never find me out here, and that would make them sad. But if they aren't looking for me . . . I'll be sad. It's scary to think I'll have to grow up without knowing my parents."
Skipper didn't respond.
"What were your parents like?" the hatchling asked, looking over at him.
Skipper locked eyes for a segundo before breaking away. "My mom was killed por a leopard foca, selo while hunting for comida for me. My dad was devastated. It was like nothing else mattered, not even the fact that I was all that was left of her. Sometimes I wonder if he blames me for her death. If she hadn't been hunting for me that day, she probably wouldn't be gone. I eventually skipped out because I . . . couldn't take it anymore."
The hatchling looked at him. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
Skipper looked back at him and smiled softly. "Hey, it's not your fault."
The hatchling winced. "Why do things have to hurt?" he asked.
Skipper shrugged. "I don't know. But the way I see it, when I think about how lonely I felt after I left my dad, I'm happier that I met Kowalski and Rico. They've been the only family I've ever really known since my mom died."
The hatchling furrowed his brow. "So . . . to be happy, we have to be sad first?"
Skipper thought for a moment. "Yeah. Something like that."
"Guys!"
Skipper and the hatchling were jerked backwards por their flippers just as the corner of the ice they were sitting on broke away. The four of them stared at it for a moment as their coração rates settled back down.
"That was a close one," Kowalski commented. "This ice is starting to melt. I'm not sure how much longer we can float out here before there's nothing left."
"Thanks," Skipper said breathlessly. "I didn't even notice. I don't know what I'd do if we were ever separated."
The hatchling looked at the bigger penguins. "I don't even have a name yet."
The bigger penguins exchanged glances.
"Um . . ." Kowalski started, "how about . . . Einstein?"
"Einstein?" Skipper repeated. "What kind of name is that?"
Kowalski shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought it sounded cool."
"How 'bout no," Skipper replied. He looked at the hatchling and thought for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe—"
Before Skipper could finish, a shadow suddenly escuro, nublado them and they turned to see a large ship moving past. A human looked overboard and saw them. Then he called out to someone else on the ship and they cast out a net to pull them in.
"Skipper!" the hatchling called, clutching his flipper. "What's happening?"
"Everything's gonna be all right," Skipper said as they were pulled up into the ship. "I think they're just trying to help us."
"What do we have here?" one of the humans said, squatting down to look at them entangled in the net on the deck. "How did a few penguins get way out here?"
"Looks like they got stranded on a block of ice, sir," another one answered.
The man nodded. "We'll take 'em to the zoo on our stop in New York. Private Stroman! Get a crate!"
Upon command, one of the men rushed off.
"A crate?" the small pinguim inquired.
"Like a wooden box," Kowalski explained, "to keep us in until we get to our destination."
The hatchling looked at Skipper, who seemed deep in thought. "What's wrong?"
Skipper looked at the hatchling. "Private."
"What?" the hatchling inquired.
"Your name. Do you like Private?" he asked.
He thought for a moment. "Why?"
"I don't know," Skipper replied. "It kind of just spoke to me."
The hatchling smiled. "I amor it."
— § —
Author's Note: I apologize for my absence. My grandfather recently had a stroke and it's led into a series of family problems over trivial things and, well, the point is I haven't had the time nor the coração to write much lately. I haven't left FanFiction and don't plan to, but my posts may be spaced out in the following weeks. I hope you've enjoyed this short, and I thank you all in advance for your patience. I hope all of you who celebrate have happy holidays and New Year, and everyone else, a fabulous last couple weeks of 2015.
