Juniper Trees
There was a soft cry when the goblin stepped on the baby fawn—sickly and starving, buried under moss and grass.
“Who the fuck are you?” the goblin imagined the fawn saying.
“I could take it to the monastery—but what if I feed it poisonous beets and make Boris angry? Oh, no, I need to be the one eating food. What are my options? Option? If this is the case, I must… it’s inevitable that I euthanize this pitiful creature…”
The fawn looked at the goblin with it’s big baby fawn eyes.
“Who am I kidding? Look at you.”
The goblin reaches down, scoops up the fawn, and Gruncle sighs, relieved.
“Hopefully the pigmen will know what it is you eat—that way they can be responsible for killing you.”
The goblin walked by twenty thousand trees, or at least seven… After passing two trees while carrying the fawn, the goblin needed to stop for a breather.
“You’re heavy for a starving baby.”
Yet, the goblin continued on, passing yet another tree, the goblin stopped again.
“Here you go.” The goblin placed the fawn down, covering it with moss.
“What? You’ve got that big mingus stare at me? I did what I could.
You stay safe here under that moss. If you starve before I come back with pretzels, that’s not my fault. There’s no way that’s my fault. Do deer eat pretzels?”
The fawn stared at the goblin.
“Listen here, buster. You’re not going to make me feel guilty for something I didn’t even do, let alone mean to. That’s like accusing me of doing wrong in my thoughts or holding me accountable for things I say. If I didn’t smash you, leaving you a mangled mess on the forest floor, then I’m not the villain in this story.
The fawn looked at the goblin.
“I’m no criminal—that warrant is for blasphemy—which sounds sci-fi and made up.”
The fawn continued.
“Okay, baby. I’m gonna head out now.”
The goblin pat the fawns head, it closed it’s eyes as the goblin ran off to get to the monastery.
The sun broke through the canopy as the forest thinned—the goblin could see the forest edge and the path up to Centurion’s Abbey.
“Mosquito sluts!”
The goblin was immersed in a cloud of swarming mosquitos.
“I need a bite to eat, not to be bitten and eaten, that’s not what I’m needing!”
The goblin stopped and looked up at the monastery tower, with a cross reaching to the sky.
The goblin cautiously approached the exterior of the monastery walls. “What am I needing? I can settle for carrots and potatoes. When do they have to go for their prayers?”
The goblin scoped out the garden. “If I gather vegetables, I can be in’n’out, and it won’t be necessary to talk to anyone.”
As the goblin cautiously approached, a loud snapping noise came from the twig that was so rudely in the way of the goblin’s step, causing the creature to freeze in case any of the pigmen heard.
“I’m sure fawns eat carrots. At the very least I’ll have strength to carry the baby over here after I score some calories.”
The goblin dug up some potatoes and ate them raw, then began pulling up all the carrots.
The monks were all in the monastery, while the carrot patch was being desecrated outside.
“Surely this will be enough for that tiny fir-sneeze. I counted 316 carrots in these sacks!”
Crawling back through the forest, the goblin was met with many mice who kept trying to barter for the goblins carrots. Yet, the pack rats didn’t have anything of value to offer the goblin.
However, by the time the goblin got back to the fawn, there were hardly any carrots left.
“Curse my excellent hiding skills! Where’s that moss covered kid at?”
The goblin retraced steps, climbed a tree for a better perspective, sketched the forest in a notebook, ripped up leaves, and dug through moss until eventually the fawn was found.
“Hello there, care for a carrot? Not even rotten.”
The goblin waved a fresh carrot at the fawn, yet it was silent.
“I didn’t know if you liked carrots or not, I’m not trying to poison you.”
The fawn didn’t respond.
“I’m already responsible for too many deaths. You have to tell me if you can’t eat carrots. No way carrots would kill you, why would they be poisonous to anyone? They’re like the baseline food. Eh fir-sneeze? Fir-sneeze? Are you sleeping, fir-sneeze? Oh no. Okay. I know. Fuck shit. Funky hell. It’s starting to smell. Ok ok ok.”
The goblin put the fawn in the burlap sack and sprinted back toward the monastery.
The fawn squeaked in the bag, but the goblin’s mind was racing too fast to notice the crunch of carrots being eaten.
“Patapaya can fix this! I know it!”
Centurion’s Abbey
Legatus Patapius was waiting by the desecrated carrot patch.
He watched as the goblin frantically ran out from the forest, sprinting right for him.
In the afternoon in the abbey loomed an awfully terrible tragedy for the monastery.
Down from the tower the old monk descenteth, Legatus Patapius examined the desecration.
The three-hundred-and-sixteen carrots were massacred — not a root was left.
“Shush your drama and save it for another day, I have a dead fawn in need of healing.”
The goblin dumps the sack with a thud and an oof — the fawn sits up.
“Agatha isn’t dead.” Patapius pets the fawn. “She is sick. Do you have faith that God can heal her?” The monk perceived the goblin’s face. “You mean like confidence? Give or take 10%”
The old monk observed the young fawn — without looking at the goblin he said, “Well lucky for you, you’re not the one dying of cancer.”
“Woah Tommy Wiseau! The fawn is dying of cancer?”
“Yes, she definitely has breast cancer.” The monk makes the benedictine blessing sign of the cross over the farm with his right hand saying,
“Auctoritate nominis Iesu, Domine, fiat voluntas Tua.”
A lump that had caused Agatha a great discomfort began to shrink, and quickly had gone away completely.
“Holy cancer-healing-deer spell Batman! Just like that? You drop a breast cancer subplot with no emotional weight? You drop this bombshell and then it’s just over? No light show, no theatrics, no long nights and empty tear ducts at a hospice?”
“Is cancer something you would want drawn out?” Patapius said while petting Agatha.
“No… I’m glad you didn’t have to cut Agatha’s breasts off, I’m glad I don’t have to see that fawn ever again. So let’s move on — with a wave of the hand and a magic incantation you can do the impossible? I want the power of this magic spell!”
“It’s not a magic spell—it’s merely the way the world works. It’s not the words—it’s the authority behind them. With faith, nothing is impossible. So long as it’s Christ’s will, it will be done.”
“With faith? Is that what the integral sanctifying anime is about? How to do the impossible?”
“Integration through sanctification of the soul is what this world is about—that’s what we’re doing here. We’re preparing for the impossible.”
“Faith is really going to topple this fascist regime that’s making life slightly more arduous for some and unliveable for others? What’s the room where I get me some of this faith?”
“With faith as small as a mustard seed, you can open a valley between the mountains in the west. But you, my goblin friend, have the faith of ten mustard seeds if you know where they came from. The room is found in you already along the way.”
“Thanks Patap! I’ve gotta run and use my mustard seeds for something else. I’d stay and chat but I don’t want to talk about it, and plus you know how difficult it is to make a short story long or an excuse into a narrative, or vice versa… anywho I’ve gotta go.”
ACT I — THE GOBLIN 