Gruber

A comedic short story about a gnome's journey to find a new home.

Gruber was a gnome; a Puddle-Gnome to be specific, of the genus Puddle-Gnomus. They are named thus to describe the manner in which they live; within puddles. Their instinct to live in puddles is an oddity in nature being that they, by all appearances, have nothing to benefit from such living conditions. In fact it seems that this choice of habitat has detrimental effects on their health. They have not in any way evolved to be more aquatic. They do not have gills, their skin gets wrinkly after a short while submerged in water and they do not have webbed feet. In most cases they’re not even particularly competent swimmers. Puddle-Gnomes have been known to die from skin infections caused by dirty water, cholera poisoning, and drowning.

Gruber was an oddity as far as Puddle-Gnomes go, in that he was an excellent swimmer. Not that this affected his life in any way because he tended to stay away from large puddles. Gruber was more of a knee-high-deep kind of gnome (Measured on his tiny leg, not yours). He had friends who lived in puddles large enough to swim in but he looked down his nose at such puddles and referred to them as “ponds”. Gruber knew it was a well-known fact that scum was found in ponds. In the drought of ’07 his friend Gorgen was living in such a puddle. When Gruber’s tiny puddle had dried out, which at the time had been in a gutter, Gorgen was still happily trying not to drown in his. He offered to put Gruber up in his puddle until he found new lodgings but Gruber turned him down.

“For Heaven’s sake Gorgen, that Pond of yours is so large you could be harbouring frogs without knowing it!”

“The more the merrier!”

“What poppycock! And, and... Gorgen, you can’t swim! What business does a gnome, who can’t swim, have living in an enormous Pond?”

 “Don’t fuss over me so Gruber. I always stay in the shallow bits don’t I?”

“I’m not fussing! Do as you please, you’re a full grown gnome!”

This left Gruber with a problem; he still had nowhere to live. He asked Gorgen where crazy-Gwendi was staying out of desperation. In a delighted tone Gorgen informed him that Gwendi had found herself a lovely home in a blocked urinal. Gruber rolled his eyes and grunted something about Cholera.

“I said urinal Gruber, not toilet! Big difference.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gruber, following Gorgen’s directions, made his way to see Gwendi.

Gnomes for the most part live on their own and because of their nomadic ways tend to visit one or two gnomes before they move to inform them about their new location( These visits are generally how they repopulate as well). It was for this reason that Gruber went to see Gwendi, not because he had any intention of living in a urinal nor of repopulating with a gnome who lived in one. Gruber needed to ask Gwendi for the last known location of their mutual friend, Gustav. He was certain that Gustav would have visited Gwendi before he relocated from a cat bowl outside a pub. Gustav and Gwendi had after all shared a Gnomeling after Gustav had impregnated her during a relocation visit. Gwendi had then accidently drowned their gnomeling by throwing his ball into the deep part of their puddle home.

Gruber found Gwendi easily enough in the urinal of a toilet in a small building that appeared to be abandoned. She was a sickly green colour and terrifically drunk.

“Have you been loafing around in that cat bowl outside the pub again, Gwendi?”

“I haven’t a foggy what you’re talking about!”

“Yes you do Gwendi! You know very well the owners of that pub think it’s funny to lace the cat’s milk with hard liquor!”

“Oh liver up a little Groobs, light a bit!”

“What?? Gwendi I didn’t come here for ridiculous jibber-jabber....”

“Well then get to business!”  She said, trying to pull her pants off and maintain her balance at the same time.

“No!! Gwendi! Has Gustav been here?” Gruber shouted, blushing violently.

I need to know his whereabouts you ridiculous urinal gnome!”

 

“Alright Groobs, no need for the hostil... hosti... hospitality! I can tell you where he is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She sat down in her yellow puddle and went silent.

“Well are you going to tell me?” asked Gruber

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me where Gustav is!!”

“Jeesh, Groobs, all you had to do was ask!” He’s living in the park in the pond.... by the shwings.”

“By the what?”

 

“The Shwings d****t!

“You mean the swings?”

“That’s what I said fool!”

 

Offended by Gruber’s cantankerous approach Gwendi settled into a deep, comfortable sulk and then, being quite intoxicated, abruptly forgot why she had begun to sulk in the first place. She heard Gruber speak to her again but deliberately did not hear what he said. Gruber turned and walked away with an air of disapproval that only a parent should be allowed to carry. Gwendi continued to sulk.

There was a main road that would need to be crossed to make one’s way to the park. Gnomes almost never cross roads and when they do they tend to be small ones. This wasn’t a problem though; Gruber would travel underground climbing down into the sewerage tunnels. This is a common form of commute for gnomes. They don’t, however, have any inclination towards living in these sewers being very rationally afraid of the oversized rats that already reside there. 

Gruber waded through the thick darkness twitchily searching his surroundings for red, beady eyes. His little head turning left and right he took silent, shallow breaths and willed his heart beat to slow, afraid they might hear it. He took slow and gentle steps making his way very gradually to the spot where a slither of light came through a gutter. Gruber climbed out and up onto the pavement at a much faster pace than he’d been walking and made a deep sighing noise. It wasn’t a sigh of relief though, more a sigh of disapproval of having to travel underground. Maybe even a general disapproval of the sewers all together; especially of those damp, tailed-critters that lived in there.

Disapproval suited Gruber’s features well; thick dark eyebrows and beard, dark and deep eyes and lips that were so straight one was certain he couldn’t smile if he wanted to.

Gustav was the opposite. His features were light and playful and he had the kind of blue eyes only mad gnomes should have. He could smile and often did. He never grew a beard.

Gruber was very fond of Gustav although he was not sure why this was; Gustav was far too cheerful, made too many jokes and excelled at anything he tried. Perhaps it was because he was serious when it counted. For instance; whenever he relocated he would make detours here and there making notes of all the puddles he found. This meant that he always knew where to go when time came to relocate.  Being a generous soul though, Gustav also enjoyed sharing these locations with friends who were in need.  To this end Gruber went to see Gustav.

Gustav was the only gnome, other than himself, Gruber knew that could swim. Gustav was an even better swimmer and Gruber was sure that Gustav had mastered this skill purely to annoy him. Gruber found him swimming in his pond. He scowled severely.

“Good to see you too, Groobs!”

Gruber greeted him in a mutter. If he was fond of Gustav, Gustav would never know.

“Come to have a dip, have you? The water is lovely!” His blue eyes sparkled with mischievous excitement.

“A bloody dip! You’ve been drinking too much of that pond water!”

“With all the lovely bacteria you couldn’t find water with more character! My taste buds are in a constant state of delight.”

It irritated Gruber to his core when Gustav said nonsensical things like this. There should be a law against spewing such illogical rubbish. He decided he’d had enough of this mad-gnome’s company.

“Gustav, I’m looking for a new residence. My puddle dried out. Do you have anything appropriate in that book of yours?”

One of the very few things Gustav was serious about was civility and he grew impatient quickly when dealing with rude gnomes but he was accustomed to Gruber’s manner. There was a slight change of tone in his voice but he kept calm.

“Appropriate, well let’s take a look shall we?”

He climbed out of his pond and made sure to stand close enough to Gruber before unnecessarily shaking the water out of his hair. He stopped momentarily to enjoy the look of disgust on Gruber’s face then moved on to a pile of leaves close to the edge of his pond. He swept them away to uncover a small, dirty book.  Slowly paging through his book he would stop from time to time, his eyes would widen and then he would continue paging. 

“Well...” he finally spoke. “... almost everything in here wouldn’t be suitable for you but what about a bird-bath? It’s shallow enough and too high for frogs to get in.”

Before Gruber, pulling his brows together, could contest Gustav went on:

“The previous resident installed a climbing rope but don’t fear Groobs, frogs are no good at climbing. And it’s a well known fact that the gardener fills it up with tap water so the water is never stale.  I visited this particular bird bath- water has no character until you urinate.”

Gruber displayed his disgust with a dramatic facial expression that could make gnomelings cry. Gustav chuckled.

This bird bath did sound nice but Gruber would never admit that.

“I guess that will have to do. Better than a cat bowl. Where is it then?”

“Ah! That’s the best part! You’ll be in this very park with me.”

Gruber didn’t think that was the best part. Gustav pointed and directed using unnecessary details about the rocks and different flowers he would pass on his way. About three quarters of the way through his directions Gruber abruptly thanked him and stormed off like a dark cloud with a rainy purpose.

When he finally found his bird bath Gruber was exhausted from vexation at having involuntarily taken note of every damned rock and flower on his route.

He huffed his way up the climbing rope and gloomily plopped himself in the water. He wasn’t disappointed at the cleanliness. He was however disappointed with almost everything else. He sighed deeply; a loaded sigh, a sigh with overseas-travel-baggage. It was a sigh of contempt for everything he’d experienced that day: Gorgen, Gwendi, Gustav, travelling underground and climbing a bloody rope.

Sulking in his body of tap water there was only one way to release all the tension. He looked left, he looked right; he was completely alone in his tower puddle. He let go of his secret fear of rats, he let go of his anger, he let go of his disappointment and contempt as a yellow liquid swirled up through the water and circled him. He did his best impression of a smile and the word ‘character’ popped into his mind.