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Emma Storris

The Story of Roundy Fatmouse – How I Came to Be

Free story Roundy Fatmouse, how I came to beIn the prologue on the story of Roundy Fatmouse I told you how I met Roundy. His godmother Maria asked me to take him under my wing so he fulfill the role he was to play in the world. Below you find his memoires. And logically they start at the beginning: his birth.

The story of my birth is a rather sad one, so I’m only going to tell it to you once. My mother was a bright blue ball of wool. She was a formidable lady who was completely selfless. A rather rare find in this day and age, I would say.
She was always willing to help out people in need. Become a scarf to keep their necks warm. Become socks so their feet would be nice and covered.
At one point all this helping out was starting to wear her a bit thin. She realised that she couldn’t go on without fulfilling her own deepest wish.

Even this wish wasn’t remotely selfish, although it might seem that way at first. What she wished for was a child in some shape or form. A child that would become her legacy to the world. She had had a vision through which it had become clear to her that this child would be important to the very existence of the planet.
She went on her way to find someone who might help her. Who that person was supposed to be she didn’t know. But she did know that she would recognise him or her the moment they would meet.
She travelled all around, talking to people, hoping she would come across the Right One. Then one day, she bumped into a little woman at a market. She looked like the kind of person who liked having fun. She was dressed colourfully and had her hair in pigtails and adorned with feathers.

My mother rolled up to her and asked her for her name.
‘My name is Lies,’ said the little woman, ‘but you can call me Liz. They all do over here. Can’t seem to be able to pronounce my proper name. So I just always tell them to call me Liz. Weird, but that’s the way it is. What’s yours?’
My mother couldn’t answer that simple question. She racked her fuzzy brain, trying to remember whether she had one. Finally she gave up.
‘Just call me anything you like,’ she said, ‘Because I don’t really know. I was hoping you could help me out.’
‘Well, sure.’ Lies who was used to being called Liz said. ‘What do you need?’
‘I’m looking for someone who can help me have a child. And it wouldn’t be the local midwife.’
Lies thought it over for a bit. A bright light came into her eyes.
‘I know just the person!’ she exclaimed.
‘About half an hour from here there is a place called Tralee. That’s where the Lazy Elves live. You need the laziest of them all. She is called Maria.’

Lies gave my mother instructions how to find Maria. Apparently anything remotely resembling fabric that needed repairing or being turned into something creative would attract her. Lies wished my mother the best of luck and went on her merry way.

So my mother went up Tralee and rolled around whimpering ´I badly need to be turned into something. Who, oh, who can help me.´
It wasn´t long before she heard a woosh and a swish and there she was: Maria, the Laziest of Elves.
‘Did I hear someone in need of creativity?’ she asked.
‘Yes, yes, I do,’ my mother replied, ‘an awful lot of creativity. A miracle, maybe.’
Maria’s eyes sparkled.
‘Yes!’ she shouted. ‘Tell me all about it, please.’
‘Well, I really want a child badly. Can you help me?’
Maria’s eyes darkened.
‘I surely can. But it will be at a great price. It will cost you your life.’

My mother sighed. She had already expected this, but it sounded kind of harsh when said out loud.
‘I figured as much. But I want to do it anyway. I just know this child will be special. He will have an important role to play in uniting the world.’
And she told Maria about her vision.
Maria realised my mother was right. This had to be done.
‘Let’s go to my workshop and get this over with.’
Maria loaded my mother into her basket and went on her way.

As soon as they came to the Lazy Elves headquarters, Maria sat down to work. Within half an hour her gruesome task was almost done.
‘Is there anything you want to say, before I finish up and you will be gone?’ Maria asked.
‘Can you take care of my child? Make sure he finds his way into the world when he’s ready?’ my mother replied with her last bit of strength.
‘I absolutely will.’ Maria promised solemnly. She saluted my mother and made her final stitches.
And with that the last bit of my mother disappeared and I stepped into this world. Roundy Fatmouse, a bright blue baby boy with his whole life ahead of him. And what a life it promised to be.

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