“My dear girl! I used to take care of you when you were a very small child! Don’t you remember me?” asked Tucker, with tears in her eyes.
“Really?? Gil is this true?” asked Marta.
‘You betcha! As a matter of fact, Tucker had a great deal to do with my coming to your town in Kansas.” said Gil.
“Where you always with the Good Tucker?” asked Marta.
“Why yes, ever since I was about your age! Why do you ask?” replied Tucker.
“Then surely my parents must have known you were, right?” asked Marta, with sudden realization.
“You know…they did…well, kind of. It is a very sad story. Did Gil not tell you?” sighed Tucker.
“I thought it would be best for you to tell her Tucker. It’s your history after all, not mine.” said Gil softly, “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
And with that Gil walked into the pawn shop, leaving Marta alone with this peculiar stranger and the young puppy.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this. I can’t believe you didn’t already know! Hmm… where to begin…. Ok, well, what do you think of your parents Marta? Did they ever seem strange to you?” began Tucker.
“Ehh, well I guess. Truthfully, I’m trying to forget them! My father and I always fought, and my mother dwells mostly in the bathroom, too sorrowful to show her face.” said Marta.
“Well, your father wasn’t always a jerk, and your mother was once very happy. You see, I am your grandmother Marta.” proclaimed Tucker.
“I thought my mother’s mother died shortly before I was born! You couldn’t be her! Besides, she was Norwegian, you are not.” stated Marta.
“ Au contraire! I am in fact Norwegian, your mother’s mother, and very much alive! Would you like me to tell you everything Marta?” asked Tucker.
Marta didn’t know what to think. Her whole life was turning into a lie! She didn’t know what to think anymore, so she just nodded her head, prompting Tucker to proceed.
And here is the story she told:
When your mother was born, I lived with my husband in Stokke, Norway. Both your grandfather and I had been exposed to Good sloths at an early age, by a cousin of Floaty’s actually. So we were both strong members. We were stationed in Stokke, my home town. Your Grandfather made a living as a traveling minstrel and I sold butter from a little wagon that was pulled by a small mule that I rescued from a life of crime. The mule wore a hat of seashells. Everything was wonderful in those early days! Until that terrible day…. Your grandfather was doing some undercover work out in the country. What he failed to realized was that a Bad sloth was watching him!
The bad sloth came up from behind and attacked him with his Sloggles! If you don’t know, Sloggles enable the wearer to control the mind of their opponent. Eventually, after the victim has been under the spell of the Sloggles long enough. They undergo a personality reverse. Luckily, he was able to escape the spell before too much damage was done. He whipped out his lucky machete, and attempted to cut the Sloggles off his opponent. He succeeded in doing this, but also gouged out the Bad sloth's right eye! In his fury, the Bad sloth vowed he would return to kill him, and corrupt his family. Years passed by, and your mother grew. Our family was wonderful and strong. Your mother was the happiest person I’ve ever met. She was never without a smile. When she met your father, he was the nicest boy the world has ever known. They married young, and you were born. Some nights we even let you sleep in the butter wagon. We were all so happy. Our Good family was growing and I was now proud grandmother. The memory of the Bad sloth had nearly faded…. When, on a stormy day, only weeks after your birth, he returned to wreak his revenge. He killed your grandfather with one fell swoop, and came charging at your mother. With one look, he entranced her with his Sloggles. He did the same thing to your father for safety’s sake. Luckily, I had taken you on a walk when all this had happened. As it turns out, the damage to your parents was irreversible. I raised you until you were about three, while your parents were staying in Mexico City, undergoing serious medical care. When they were declared stable, they insisted that you were to be handed over. Your father had changed into a real brute of a man. Always in a foul mood, with no manners to speak of. Your mother was the saddest sight to behold. She had a constant quiver on her chin, and eyes perpetually full of tears. There was nothing I could do but hand you over. They issued a restraining order against me, so I could never see you again. Then they moved you to America. You hated it. You wanted to come back. You wrote me little notes on the back of sandpaper. But eventually your parents brainwashed my memory out of you. And then I had an idea! I could get Gil to bring you! He was an old friend, very loyal. He knew the predicament, and wanted to help. He searched high and low until he found your town. He hired you at his store to keep you away from your parents. And then he brought you to Mexico! And here you are!
Marta didn’t know what to say. She was so sad, yet so happy to find a relative who loved her! So, she did all she could, which was weep a little into the velour of Tucker’s dress, and smile up at her new-found grandmother.
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