Grounded

Osric rummages through the wooden dresser in his room — his old room — throwing pants and nightgowns over his shirtless shoulder.

Ugh, do I not have any more clean shirts? he thinks, pulling open the next drawer. Oh, right... Catalina didn’t do the laundry today.

“Osric?” Helen says from the bed.

He looks over his right shoulder. Helen’s disapproving expression flickers orange in the candlelight from the desk across the room.

His eyes dart away. Why is she looking at me like—

His train of thought derails at the sound of Elayne’s smacking lips as she munches a candy apple beside Helen on the bed.

“Osric, your mother’s been in her room since this morning,” Helen inches closer, leaning her arm against the footboard of the bed frame.

“Yeah, she does that sometimes. She just needs to be alone.” He turns, now staring at the wall.

“It may not be my place to say anything, but I think you should go talk to her. You heard them arguing about you,” Helen adds.

He doesn’t answer. His eyes trace the corner of the bedroom, climbing from the dresser wedged into it, up to the ceiling, then back down again.

“Osric?”

His eyes still tracing the corner.

“Yeah, I’ll go talk to her,” he blurts out, breaking the long pause.

He swings the door open and storms into the hallway, still shirtless. Why would I lie like that? She’ll know in the morning I didn’t talk to her...

Passing his parents’ door, The mumblings of their argument reach his ears.

“But he doesn’t listen to me!” Catalina’s voice pierces through the bedroom wall.

Osric’s shoulders tense. He stops.

“Am I not a good enough mother to raise the new sage?”

Osric clenches his fists, turning around.

“Catalina, I—” Randolf is cut off as Osric bursts through the door.

Across the bedroom, Catalina sits on the bed in her white nightgown, head buried in her hands. Randolf hovers over her, gently rubbing her back.

Catalina looks up. Her red, swollen eyes are clearly visible even with the dim orange glow of the candle on the nightstand.

He sheepishly walks over to the canopied bedframe, glancing up at Randolf to silently tell him to leave them alone.

Randolf nods, understanding.

“You know what? I think I want to learn how to do the laundry. Where do you keep the washboard, Catalina?” Randolf asks her.

She points below her feet.

“Downstairs? Right, I’ll go get it.” Randolf speeds out of the room.

Osric is left alone with Catalina.

She stares at him with red eyes, glistening with candlelight. His are glued to the floor.

I came in here — now what do I say? He clenches his fists harder as a quiet stillness falls over the room.

“Why wouldn’t you listen to me? Why would you go into a forest?” she yells, breaking the silence.

I came in here to console her, but now she’s yelling at me, he tries to pull his eyes off of the floor.

“I wanted to go hunt a thicketbear. I thought it would be fun,” Osric responds, finally looking at her.

“Fun? Do you think breaking your leg is fun?"

Osric instinctively puts his hands to his ears. Her high-pitched yell seems to go right through his eardrums.

Suddenly, her feet stamp, echoing through the wooden floor. She bolts upright.

“Every time you leave the house, you come back injured...  That’s it! You are forbidden from leaving the house until you turn ten years old!” She snaps.

What is this? Am I grounded? I’m twenty-seven, you can’t ground me! He wants to argue, but before he can, a wave of unpleasant déjà vu washes over him. He shudders as his mom’s voice floods his ears: “That’s it! You are forbidden from playing video games!” The image of her snapping his game discs fills his head.

“Of course, Mother,” he replies, bowing his head.

“Huh?” She steps back, surprised by his answer.

“I’m sorry for leaving the house today. It was stupid of me to go to the woods looking for a thicketbear,” he says, walking to the door.

“Oh, and don’t worry about not being a good mother — you’re more than adequate to raise the Grand Sage.” He gives her a thumbs up before shutting the bedroom door.

He lets out a long sigh as he trudges down the hallway. I learned from all that time I spent arguing with Mom that arguing doesn’t really get you anywhere. Sometimes you have to bite the bullet and just do what they say.

He makes it to his “bedroom” — his closet. He shuts himself in the tiny, dark room. He spreads out his first blanket, which he uses as a mattress, then throws the second one on top of himself.

I can't agree that locking me up is the best thing to do — but after that bear, I realized I don't want excitement, or fun. Maybe chilling in the house would be just fine. He settles in under his sheet.

>>>

The next morning, Osric sits on the well in the backyard, skimming through his magic book.

Elayne, bent over, pokes at the destroyed cabbage sprouts.

“Today I want to experiment with incantations. Maybe there’s a way to make them shorter,” he says to himself.

The back door opens. Randolf emerges, holding a small metal spade.

“Here, your mother wants you to fix the cabbages,” he says, handing Osric the spade.

“What? It’s your fault the cabbages are ruined,” Osric objects.

“Just do it, please.” Randolf turns and walks back inside.

“Ugh!” Osric hops down, stomping over to the cabbages. What, she thinks because I agreed with one thing she said, she can boss me around now?

“How do I even garden?” he mutters.

“Elayne, help me with this.” He kneels down, inspecting the soil.

She leans against the house wall.

"No."

>>>

That night, Osric sits at the dinner table, picking at his salad — flicking cabbage and bits of meat, watching them roll across his wooden plate. Helen and Catalina chat as usual.

“So he sent me to the town to find these things called candy apples. Have you tried one yet?” They are delicious," Helen asks Catalina. 

“No.”

“You should!” Helen points at the woven basket with several candy apples on sticks.

Catalina gets up. “Osric? Are these really that delicious?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t had one.”

Grabbing two, she walks over and hands one to him.

“Oh, I don’t want one,” Osric says.

“Why would you ask Helen to get them if you’re not going to eat any?” she asks.

“I just sent Helen out of the house so that she couldn’t tell you I was going to hunting,” he explains bluntly.

Catalina sighs. “Why did you even want to hunt a thicketbear anyway?” she asks, sitting back down.

“Apparently their hides go for a lot of money. And the meat tastes good too.”

“Where did you learn that?” she asks, shaking her head.

“From the book on monsters Angus gave me.”

“I knew he was going to be a bad influence on you,” Catalina replies, still shaking her head.

Osric looks down at his plate again, picking at the salad.

He feels something poke his left shoulder — it’s Randolf elbowing him.

“Thank you for apologizing to your mother. She’s in a much better mood today,” he leans in and whispers in Osric’s ear.

His words of gratitude and unusually kind tone surprise Osric a little bit.

I’m not sure I apologized the way you wanted me to — but whatever, Osric nods at him in response.

>>>

Osric tries to get comfortable in the closet. Stretching out his legs, his toes press against the wall.

A deep thud vibrates the floor. Then again, again, the rhythmic thudding repeating. A higher-pitched noise overpowers the thudding — it’s Catalina’s voice.

Oh, she’s moaning. So the real thing does sound just like the videos. He lies there, listening.

Thud, thud. Moan. Thud, thud. Moan.

“No, don’t go in there!” Helen’s voice cuts through the muffled bedroom noises.

Uh-oh. Osric springs to his feet, throwing open the door.

Elayne’s hand is on the door handle. Helen, lumbering after her, trips.

Osric dashes over, grabbing Elayne’s arm before she can open the door.

“Don’t open that door, sweetie.” Helen, back on her feet, picks Elayne up.

“No, Mama. Catalina is hurt!” Elayne says.

“She’s not, sweetie,” Helen whispers to her.

“Why is she making that noise?” Elayne asks.

“They’re... having fun,” Osric adds.

Elayne tilts her head from side to side, staring at the door in confusion as Helen carries her back to their room.