Shucks
by Zinnia Magill
Snow White stood at the stove stirring beef stew, everyone’s favorite. Grumpy and Sleepy played a dysfunctional game of chess. At the moment it seemed as if Grumpy had taken on a very aggressive route. Naggingly nipping away all of Sleepy’s defenses as he desperately tried to protect his king from checkmate. Sleepy, half awake as always, gave the game little thought, carelessly throwing another pawn at Grumpy’s white knights or his crook-like-rooks. Clumsy sat still and silently twiddled his thumbs, lost in the memories that the smell of beef brought. It was unusual for everything to be peaceful for this long with Clumsy present. But no one bothered to ask what the usually “too hyper for his own good” dwarf was thinking about, until Bashful came in dragging his slippers with his hands behind his back, a cartoon grin painting his face. One look at Clumsy was all it took for him to notice something was wrong.
“Hiya Clums, what’s goin’ on? You look quite down,” he said, taking a seat on the floor.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just thinking about the good-ol’-days.”
“The good ol’ days?? Heck, what’s wrong with the good-now-days?”
“Oh nothing, that’s not what I meant,” Clumsy replied, quick to reassure his sensitive friend.
“Did I ever tell you about how I got my name?” A long, long, long time ago my mother, too, stood at the stove stirring stew. Her name was Grace. Ironic isn’t it? I didn’t have a name yet. What made me special was still up for debate. ‘Set the table, will you, dear?’ she said. ‘Okay!’ I responded, eager to stuff my face with stew. “Just watch out for the cat,” she said, knowing me better than I knew myself. I hopped off the couch, skipping towards the kitchen, reaching for a cup, and I sneezed just as my fingers grabbed the glass. It landed right on my dome making a loud, hollow thump. I flailed backwards into the dining room table which sent the centerpiece flying onto the sleeping cat’s tail. Poor Charles let out such a shriek, it sent a shiver down all our spines. ‘Well looks like we know what makes you special.’ she said, hiding a chuckle.”
“Shucks Clumsy, that was quite a story, why’d you never tell us?” Bashful buzzed while blushing. “I always thought the lotta y’all would make fun of me,” Clumsy said, hanging his head.
“Well, you can always count on me to never make fun of you again. I love you.” And with a quick and unexpected, but romantically executed gesture, Bashful planted a peck right on Clumsy’s unsuspecting lips.
“Dinner’s ready,” Snow White’s voice chimed, not allowing for any analysis of the moment. Clumsy got up and bolted to the kitchen, knocking over Grumpy and Sleepy’s chess game, and sent a gleaming white pawn flying straight into the beef stew. “Clumsyyyyy,” everyone sang out annoyed. Everyone but Bashful, who chuckled and hurried to help him up.
The End