Heavy Is the Crown- Chapter 4
In his first year of life, Bowser Entem brought his mother and father a great deal of both joy and frightened confusion. It was three weeks after hatching that he finally cried once, smacking his face into a doorframe while chasing after his father through the hut and into the lone bedroom. He'd been just fine until he touched his nose, seeing his hand come away bloody.
Yet word of his uniqueness spread quickly, and the green tribe couple received visitors from early on. Their first visitors were a couple of koopa paratroopas, also greens, named Willow and Rompus. They informed the Entems that they had been two of the guards assigned to protect the eggs along that strand. Fascinated by the size of the egg, they had been eager to see the child born from it.
Next came a yellow paratroopa who Bowser seemed to take quite a shine to, Meechum. He informed them that he had been the one to spot poor little Bowser wandering the beach all by himself, hatched early. Bowser had clearly formed a quick bond with Meechum, who, unlike so many of his and the blue tribes, never once condescended to the Entems while visiting.
Other greens curious about tales they'd heard round the village came to watch little Bowser at play or napping, commenting on how big he was, or how unusual he was for a koopa.
It was seven weeks after he'd been brought home that Bowser got a case of the hiccups and nearly burned their home to the ground. He'd just finished drinking some water when the hiccups started, forcing cute little gasps of air from his mouth. Eyes wide, startled, the koopa infant sat in his modified high chair, his whole body flinching up and down. Cass and Luther both found the sounds he was making adorable, but after a minute, Cass scooped him up and tried burping him, which she'd been told would help.
When he finally did burp, it came out as a swirling ball of fire that struck the wall. Rampant heat and fire caught the cheap wood, pushing Luther to quickly pull off his shell and run water from the tap into it, splashing it onto the burning wall as fast as he could. It took several minutes, but he got the fire out.
And the family home had a new window the next day, after some creative applications of a saw, hinges and some glass framing. It was cheaper than replacing the whole wall.
And at four months old, Bowser received a guest none in the neighborhood would forget.
Morning arrived like the wild haymaker of a desperate boxer that manages to connect, blasting dreams and all attachments of restful sleep to the mat in a stunning phoenix-from-the-ashes victory. Cass sat up and knew right away she'd be up for the whole of the day. There'd be no between-rounds chat with sleep.
Luther lay prone on his stomach in the bed, softly snoring. He'd spent the previous day taking care of Bowser from sunrise to bedtime, his only day off from work used to make up for lost time, as Luther said. Cass felt for him; he needn't work so hard and do so much, but he seemed to be unable or unwilling to take his rest when needed. "You laid his egg, and have cared for him all day, every day, since he came home with us," he often said when he got home from work. "Let me take over until he goes to bed."
And on his one day off each week, Luther let her sleep in and leave off of the chores about the house, so she could recharge and do whatever it was she wanted to do. He spent the first hour feeding Bowser, who had begun taking fruits and meats along with his staple greens, devouring everything with gusto and not a single complaint. Luther would then clean him up, then carry Bowser to the corner of the main room, where he would read to the young koopa from assorted storybooks, complete with pictures.
Most koopa infants could only sit still for this for about five minutes, and they seldom paid full attention. Not so for the child of Cassandra and Luther Entem, no, never think it. Bowser sat ensorcelled by every tale, carefully listening, his eyes going from his father's finger, underscoring the words on the pages, to his father's mouth, staring with fixed intensity at the motions Luther made with jaw, lips and tongue.
Neither Cass nor Luther knew what to make of this behavior.
Cass headed out into the hut's main room, using the embers still smouldering in the tinderbox of her stove to get more kindling burning. She was grabbing butter from their small fridge when a heavy knock came at the door. She hoped it didn't wake Bowser up, swiftly fetching her way over to keep their visitor from knocking again.
When she opened the door, a heavy, metal gloved hand stopped an inch from her face, pulling slowly away to reveal a blackshell koopa in heavy ceremonial armor. Upon each hip was sling a heavy, brutal-looking warhammer, an open-faced helmet worn on his head, his flesh greener than most koopas. She knew of these blackshell warriors, but had never met one.
A Hammer Brother, she thought, awestruck. In person, the Hammer Brother was less terrifying than she'd made them out to be in her head, though not by much. His leathery skin creaked as he scowled at her and stepped back and to one side, his massive armor clinking. Stepping aside revealed to her a short, gaunt blue shell koopa of considerable age, a thick white beard hanging from his cheeks and chin. He wore a fine white and gold jacket over white silk trousers, his feet covered in emerald green boots. He looked quite wealthy to Cass, but she could also smell something that stung, a minty medicinal odor that overwhelmed.
The Hammer Brother's voice came like steel scraping on gravel as he said, "Announcing the arrival of Benjamin Godash, Magistrate of the Fourth Province of the Great Gora Empire." Godash inclined his head ever-so-slightly to Cass, then held one gnarled hand out to the Hammer Brother, who handed him a narrow black binder. "I shall remain here, sire," he said.
"Thank you, Turiya," said Godash. "May I come in, Mrs. Entem?" Cass just blinked at him a moment, then nodded, shuffling back and away. Godash peered about with half-lidded eyes, an air of boredom hanging about him. "Charming little place. Where are your husband and child?"
"They're still sleeping," Cass said.
"If you would wake them, then," said Godash with a flap of his hand. Cass grimaced, looking toward the door to the hut's only bedroom. She didn't want to disturb their slumber, especially Luther's, but she knew that she could not disobey a direct order from the magistrate, particularly a blue tribe. To do so would be unheard of, a violation of the recognized caste order of the Empire.
"One moment, lordship," she demured, lowering her head and shuffling to he bedroom door. She opened it to find Luther putting a clean diaper on Bowser, cinching it in place and snapping the tyke's shell back into place. By now Bowser's underbelly had begun to take on the dark yellow hue of the koopas, which should have made him look more like a normal koopa, yet somehow worked in the wrong direction. It made his dark green shell and arms and legs stick out more somehow, along with the fluff of his crimson hair and eyebrows.
Yet he was smiling up at her, and that, at least, was a good sign. He held his chubby hands up for her, and she scooped him up onto her hip, leaving the bedroom with son and husband. Godash gave them a queer little smirk, one that Cass didn't recognize. Luther did, and his teeth ground together in response; it was the look of one who sees before them inferiors, and is glad to have them to poke at.
"Hail, and well met, magistrate," Luther said, stepping slightly ahead of Cass and Bowser, angling himself to partly block them from the older koopa. "Be welcome in our home, though I am sure you won't linger. What business have you with a mere bricklayer and housewife of the green caste?" Godash's smirk soured, then flattened. Both Entems knew the rules of ettiquette in the Empire, but Luther had often shown a deftness with its rules and traditions that made Cass and others dizzy. He was no one's fool. By self-deprecating in welcome, he had essentially forced Godash to either pay a compliment to his hosts, or at the very least to declare his intentions plainly and without disdain.
Godash cleared his throat. "I am here to see your child, who is suspected to have been born a mutation," he said evenly. "And I have eyes yet well enough to see that this is so."
"Pray, lordship, may I inquire who brought this suspicion to thy call of ear," asked Luther. Once again, using subservient language, but with a direct question of purpose.
"The information was brought to my office by a clerk in the registration office," said Godash, deftly ducking giving a name.
"A clerk, you say? Not a member of medical staff?" Godash flinched; Luther had maneuvered him into a tight corner. If he confirmed it wasn't medical staff who raised an alarm, he would be admitting to accepting an uneducated word. If he denied it, he would be asked if he was confused or erroneous. In either event, Godash was going to come away with egg on his face if he wasn't careful.
"No, not medical staff, Mr. Entem. However," he said, raising one finger to stay any word from Luther's mouth, "the clerk in question has, over the course of twelve years, registered just over four-hundred new hatchlings through the Fourth Magistrate's Office. As such, I found his alarm deserving of note, given his degree of experience dealing with newborns and infants."
Luther's hands bunched into fists, then loosened. Cass thought it a shame, as she'd been sure her husband had this gnarled old koopa on the ropes. "I see," said Luther. "So, have you come to make your own determination?"
"I had, yes. But a single look is all I require to say with authority that yours is a child that is mutated. His records will reflect this judgment," said Godash firmly.
"What does that mean for him, for his future," Cass blurted aloud, holding Bowser closer. The infant koopa glowered at Godash, as if he had murder on his young mind.
"Well, that depends entirely on you, his parents," said Godash, his haughty air and smug grin returning in full force. "You can either give your child to the raising of the Sisters of Mercy in the Sixth Magistrate, or you may uproot and move with him to Seventh Magistrate, where you shall live among the collective of this Empire's least-desirable citizens. If you choose this second option, you will be seen as less than goombas, barely above the note or rank of beasts," he said with obvious scorn. "Now, if you give the boy to the Sisters, he may remain in the caste and honor of goombas, while you retain your respective rights, privileges and ranking in our great empire."
Luther nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "I have already made my decision."
"Ah," said Godash. He put one scaley hand on Luther's shoulder, as if for comfort. "It's all right, Mr. Entem. It really is for the best." A less thoughtful, more impulsive man might have batted that hand away. Instead, Luther took one half-step back, letting it slide away on its own.
"Cass, we begin packing, now," he said, a thick cable of steel in his voice. "This family will not be broken." Godash narrowed his eyes, mouth curling into a snarl. "If his Lordship will leave us in peace, we will prepare for departure."
"You are being foolish, Mr. Entem," Godash said with a hiss. "Green tribe you may be, but at least you are koopas! Don't throw that away over what is clearly an abomination!" Luther sucked air between bared teeth, but made no move against the blue tribe Magistrate. Cass turned away with Bowser, shuffling off into the tiny bedroom and shutting the door.
"See here, now," said Luther in a low, quiet rumble. "We are now the bottom caste, the lowest of the low, so not much is expected of us. But hear me well, Lord Godash. I am deep in my work at Prince Vorek's castle. I shall require leave until we reestablish in Seventh Magistrate. I expect my pay shall decrease with my social rank.
"I do not care about that," Luther said, straightening his stance. "What I care about is this; you will never again darken my doorstep. You may say what you will about my decision today, but you will never again come near me or mine. And I make you this solemn vow," he said, stepping close to Godash, who visibly flinched. "Our son shall rise above his station. I will do everything in my power as his father to guarantee that some day, somehow, he shall tower over you, and he will know what choice you forced on his parents when he was not even a year old."
Godash crept back from Luther toward the hut's entry door, stopping with his hand on the knob. He looked back, eyebrow raised. "Once I'm through this door, the decision is final. You have one last chance to beg for my mercy." Luther said nothing, grabbing a heavy wool bag from under the sink. "Very well. You have one day to vacate. Turiya will remain outside to assure your compliance."
He was gone then, and Cass brought Bowser out of the bedroom when the front door shut. Tears marked her cheeks, and Luther went to her, embracing his wife and son tightly. Bowser grabbed hold of his arm, looked up, and pressed his forehead against his father's shoulder.
They would never return to the Fourth Magistrate.