Chapter Uno: Suerte is Spanish for Luck(y)
His shell, an ongoing dry erase board of scratches and marks, sparkled in the sunlight, its stained-glass quality of colors an eye irritant of brightness. His carried a backpack around his left, tanned shoulder, glancing around.
A Koopa in the Mushroom Village. It happened, but not often. Mushroomers stared, their eyes dark and distrusting. Sure, he could be no older than eleven or twelve, but he was a Koopa, and that gave anyone and everyone rights to visually scold hom.
He was getting quite sick of it, to put that in a polite manner. Their stereotypical opinions of Koopas (the war was over now, hello?) were beginning to get on his nerves. The Koopa boy repositioned his backpack to avoid it falling off his shoulders. Ahead, he noticed an elederly Mushroom woman carrying two large paint buckets.
You will go out and help the world, because that is what I want you to do, a familiar voice echoed within his head. For a moment he was frozen in place, not seeing but being pulled back into his memories. The voice had been so strong, so familiar... it was a voice of his past, of his home. Home had been out of reach for a good seven months now; he thought he'd gotten over the sickness of longing.
Apparently not.
"Young man?" The elderly Mushroom woman was now standing beside him, shaking him of his thoughts. "Are you all right?"
"Oh?! Uh... Yes, yes, I'm fine." He blushed, feeling a little stupid for having been caught staring off into space as he was.
"Mmm'kay, good then." She smiled and bent for the buckets that she had momentarilly set down to question him. She hadn't scowled or stopped to give him some racist comment, and he appreciated that. He bent down and grabbed the buckets before the Mushroom woman had a chance.
"Let me help you, ma'am. I think you're the only one in this land that has yet to give me negative attention, and for that I'm thankful. I also don't believe you should be lifting these heavy things..."
"Oh, you are such a good boy... Thank you, I would appreciate it. Matt needs his weekly paintings." The Koopa boy nodded, not paying her much mind.
The sun was hot; he wanted to get his good deed done for the day and get back to his main reason for being here in the first place. It only took him five months to get here, and two months of random wandering, and the way he looked at it, a few more minutes wouldn't kill him.
Sweat coated his forearms and he could have auditioned for the part of a glazed donut had such a play been going on; his shell was an oven, to make matters more uncomfortable. He was sticky, hot, and in no hurry. Talk about an oxymoron.
"So what brings you here to Mushroom Village?" the mushroom woman asked. The Koopa boy fidgeted. His legs were sweaty, and inside his shell, he attempted to turn them without walking strangely. He smiled to the Mushroom woman, however, jerking his head towards Peach's Castle in the distance.
"The princess. I'm far from home, verrryy far from home. I live on Yoshi's island with a small band of other Koopas. We live in a tribe with some Yoshis, called Cardboard Wolf. A little strange, I know, but that's my story, and I've got nothing else to say." The Koopa boy shrugged, looking simplistically to the Mushroom woman and flashing her a charming smile. The Koopa boy wasn't a Koopa version of Brad Pitt, but it wouldn't be a lie to say he was blossoming into a fine young Koopa man.
His hair, a deep brown with fine strands of red, had grown into a mullet. It was wet to the touch currently, but generally it bounced joyously on top of his tan head. He was darker than most Koopas, and in contrast with his dark skin were his glistening hazel eyes. Yes, for a Koopa, he had strange color schemes on his canvas of a body, but in no way was he ugly.
"Poor dear... That must be terrible. What is your name?" The Mushroom woman's eyes filled with sympathy the boy looked away from. He wasn't attempting to be tough, but it made him sad himself to think about his situation.
"Don't have one."
At first the Mushroom woman chuckled, believing he was joking. After she realized he wasn't laughing too, she stopped her cackles and stared in surprise.
"No name? Well... then I'll just call you Suerte. It is from an ancient, old, language. Means lucky!"
Suerte laughed at that, shrugging. In no way did he find himself lucky, but there was no sense in arguing with a sweet, old woman. Let her call him what she would. It wasn't that he didn't have a name, he just didn't like it, and long ago grew tired of people commenting on how strange, provacative, dirty, creepy, weird, or funny it was. And Suerte had met many people, who had many other things to say.
But no one could really say anything to no-name, now could they? No.
"Well you can just call me Grandma. We are almost there, Suerte. My you are a strong, young lad. Would you like to stay for dinner?"
For some reason this situation reminded Suerte of a story he had read long ago by an author he couldn't for the life of him remember. It had been about a woman who owned a boarding house who only let young men stay. She poisoned them with her tea, then stuffed their bodies to put on the third "forbidden" floor of the boarding house. Suerte shivered, despite the droves of sweat running off of him.
"I wouldn't want to take your food, madam... It wouldn't seem right." He smiled thankfully, though shaking his head.
"Oh, come now... Alexis would be happy to have a friend, and who knows, maybe Matthew would have a thing or two to say to you."
"Who're Alexis and Metthew?" For some reason, Suerte had thought she would live alone. He definitely then pictured those as "Grandma's" grown children.
"They're the orphans that were left on my doorstep some years back... Matthew is older than you, but Alexis has to be about your age. They'd love a new friend."
Suerte scolded himself for letting a piece of long-ago read literature make him think ill of this sweet old lady. Then again, sweet old people generally did some kooky things, he reminded himself, soon scolding himself for that too.
"Won't you join us? I'm sure they'd love to meet you..." The tone in her voice made Suerte feel even worse. He simply couldn't say no... He pushed the macabre thoughts out of his head and nodded.
"Sure, why not? I am hungry... I would really appreciate that."
"Great, because we're here." Grandma smiled warmly, gesturing at the Mushroom house before them. Suerte looked it over, spotting a nice picket fence in the yard, grass that needed cut, and a few scattered paintbrushes. Save for the brushes, he found the place to be quite normal.
“Nice,” Suerte commented, and though he already had got a good look at the house, he continued to look. No sense in offending her, he thought, and he could act like he was impressed.
“Oh, the inside is much nicer, my child. The outside looks like anything else you can find in this neighborhood.”
Suerte didn't say anything, even if what she'd just voiced was exactly what he was thinking, They went in to the house, and at first Suerte wasn't aware of what hit him.
It came at him in a blur, a fast and seemingly-lethal blur, knocking him onto his feet and spilling the paint buckets on the floor, though not opening them. For a moment he thought the woman had invited him into the deathtrap that was her home, believed that perhaps she was more racist and psycho than everyone in this town.
Then he panicked, because if she killed him, nobody would even care to come and find his body. Before he could scream, however, a claw was on his mouth.
“Shhh... Don't scream, Matt's sleeping.” A voice... A figure was sitting on him, giggling and removing its hand off his mouth and putting her finger to her lip. “Shhh!” she reminded him again.
Suerte blinked, calming down enough to get a good look at whoever had tackled and sat on him. Her long, brown hair framed her face in a way that was almost annoying, because the wisps of her bangs were growing into her eyes. She was badly in need of a haircut, but it didn't stop the deepness of her blue eyes from shining out in an almost angelic way.
He didn't care how she looked; what Suerte cared was that she would get off.
“Uh... Could you please-” Before he could finish, she had leapt up, almost like a cat would. He saw the flash of her red shell and her beak, and blinked again. A Koopa?
“Grandma, who in the world is this?” the Koopa girl asked. She obviously wasn't polite, because her voice came out in a hyper harshness that hurt Suerte's ears just slightly.
“This is Suerte, Alexis. Suerte, this is Alexis.”
“A... Koopa?”
Alexis turned and seemed undecided on her feelings for that statement. She was trying to decide if it were some sort of racial comment, but seeing as he was a Koopa too, that would be too confusing. In the end the Koopa girl ended up laughing and rolling her eyes. “What? You don't see one every time you pass the mirror?”
She continued to laugh, but then her eyes grew wide because another figure walked towards the little group and she had heard their footsteps. “Uh oh, Grandma, I think we woke Matt...”
“Matthew, come on in here.”
“Grandma, do you have paint?”
Suerte was a little confused when he walked in. He was a Birdo, but his skin looked to be chipping off, not peeling but just rolling and falling off. Troughs of black fell off of him as he walked, revealing a slight tint of dirty pink under the “skin”. Even more strange, he wore a paintbrush around his neck. The Koopa boy stifled his mouth abuot his concerns, because he then realized it was the Birdo's skin, and if he had some sort of problem, he didn't want to offend him about it.
“Yes, dear Suerte helped me carry it home.” Grandma smiled, pointing to the cans that Suerte had dropped.
“Wow, that little runt was able to carry both of them?” the Birdo asked calmly, not realizing his exasperated tone.
“Matthew... Be a bit kinder to our guest,” the elderly Mushroom woman scolded, Matt looking apologetically to Suerte.
“Sorry, man.”
“It's... uh, okay.” Suerte managed a smile. He didn't care what anybody thought of him. He'd survived for seven months on his own, whereas they had someone to care for them, even if it wasn't their parents. He wasn't going to mention that because he didn't believe that their pity would make him any better off.
“Come on, Suerte! Let me-”
“Sorry, but I really needed to get to Mushroom Castle! I need to see Princess Peach.”
“-give you the tour!” Alexis finished, completely ignoring him, grabbing his arm and dragging him past the Mushroom woman.
“Suerte, you go on and let Alexis show you around. I'm going to have dinner done by the time she gets back.” Grandma nodded with her head, telling him to go on.
“I know the princess too; I'll take you to her.” Alexis smiled, and Suerte couldn't tell if she was just saying that, but he wondered why he'd even wonder if she were lying. She had no reason to lie to him... He let himself be led.
Home was seeming farther and farther away...
To Be Continued...
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