Page 18 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
Back home I would have been embarrassed to be caught enjoying a large cold mug ofwoanja, but none of my teammates lived in this building. They’d never been to my apartmentto come across the bottles in my fridge. What I drank in private was my own business. And the humans didn’t seem to view this as a beverage they needed to put aside when they became adults. The delivery man didn’t seem surprised by my standing order and the lack of orclets behind me when I opened the door. And just yesterday the human male next door had been sitting on his porch, dunking sweet, baked disks into his own glass of milk.
Cookies. From what I could tell, most human adults enjoyed milk, and they all relished sweets. I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to put a packet of cookies in my basket at the market. Maybe someday I’d pretend I was buying them for a child, go home, and dunk them in my milk as the neighbor had done.
Myorclets would have the time to drinkwoanja, eat sweets, and learn to enjoy their youth without the specter of loss cutting their childhood short. Jordan and I would blanket them with love, teach them important survival skills, all while making sure they learned the importance of kindness and clan bonds.
She was perfect. My mate. My female. The future mother of our orclets. She was smart, warm, and although I didn’t understand human females at all, I got the impression she was as attracted to me as I was to her.
But that didn’t mean I’d win her. A female like Jordan? There were probably dozens of males competing for her favor. I’d bring her my lost teeth that I’d managed to find on the ice, but I needed to do more. I’d need to impress her, to show her that I was the male best suited to be her partner in life.
To be her mate.
Downing the last of my milk, I went inside to shower and put on what the humans called “workout clothes.”
There was a room full of equipment at the arena that we were supposed to use to maintain our strength and speed, but no one knew how to use any of the machines. Bwat had nearly toppled one over on himself last week, and our demon boss had screamed at Ugwyll for throwing the heavy disks through the wall. So we’d given up on the gym, and since we all hated sliding around on the ice while wearing knives on our shoes, I maintained my strength and speed as I would at home.
Trotting down the five flights of stairs, I exited the building and began to run.
It had taken me a while to learn to ignore the stares and the way humans quickly edged out of my way, sometimes crossing to the other side of the street when they saw me coming.
Some things had improved since last night, though. The human police didn’t stop to interrogate me about what I was doing in the city and why I was running down the sidewalk. A human male shouted “Go Tusks” from a passing car, even though the fist he was shaking at me wouldn’t have been an encouragement back home. A group of human females made whistling noises, commanding me to remove my shirt as I ran by.
After looping around Druid Hill, I headed slightly north and east to the waterfront, up to Canton, then circled back and slowed down as I entered Patterson Park.
Normally the park was close to empty with only a few human joggers and a handful of human females pushing babies in elaborate, shaded carts. Today, it felt like half the human population of Baltimore was here, having meals in large groups, kicking balls, or throwing colorful disks back and forth. Groups of children played team sports while adults watched and cheered. The metal structures arrayedon a sandy base were full of younger children, all of them climbing, swinging, spinning, and shrieking with joy.
Sitting on a bench, I watched the children. Orclets were larger and heavier than human young, but I’d seen the occasional adult male on the playground equipment. If the structures could support their weight, then they would hopefully hold up under a rambunctious orclet.
I’d been a little envious of that human male, swinging high and laughing as his child did the same by his side. If I tried that and broke the children’s play equipment, I’d feel terrible. Maybe I could find a metalsmith in the city willing to let me use his forge and make a climbing structure and swinging apparatus built for an adult orc’s weight. Certainly, larger humans would appreciate that too.
But Jordan and I would be living at home with my clan. There would be no need to construct playground equipment for orcs here. Besides, adult orcs would not be caught dead frolicking with orclet toys or on their play structures. There were adult structures for conditioning and athletic contests, and there were toys.
A black and white ball bigger than my fist rolled against my foot, interrupting my thoughts. I looked down at the ball, then up at the two male human children who stood four feet away, eyeing me expectantly. Reaching down, I picked up the ball and bounced it off my head toward the children, careful not to hit it too far.
They cheered, letting the ball hit the ground before rushing it. One child managed to maneuver it away, using his feet in complicated shuffling movements to keep the ball from the others. I watched them, thinking that human young were surprisingly agile with excellent balance. We might be stronger and faster, but humans had physical skills of their own. We’d always discounted them as weak, but lastnight’s hockey game had been a humiliating lesson. As a Guardian, I’d learned not to let hubris put my clan at risk. These were not life-or-death contests, but I still should not be blind to my opponents’ abilities on the ice.
I felt a tug on my shirt and looked down to see a female human child, her multitude of thick, dark braids capped with large colorful beads.
“Push me,” she demanded.
My eyes widened, because there was no way I was going to shove this tiny, fragile creature.
She stomped a pink sneaker-clad foot. “Swing. Push me.”
I looked in the direction she was pointing and understood. Before I could stand, a human female whose multiple braids were considerably longer than the child’s rushed forward.
“I’m so sorry, sir. Melly, hon, I’ll push you on the swing.”
The child held her ground in spite of her mother’s tugs, so I stood. “I will assist,” I told the female. “Children are precious, and their needs are always a priority.”
The female gawked at me as I stood to tower over her. “Wait. You’re one of those hockey players, aren’t you? An ogre?”
I winced but knew the insult was unintentional. “My name is Ozar, and I am an orc. A member of the Tusks hockey team.”
“Ozar.” She dug her phone from her pocket, following us as little Melly reached up to take my hand and drag me to the swing set.
After assisting the tiny human onto the woven seat, I gently pushed her, careful not to let her go too fast or too high. The activity wasn’t as easy as I’d thought. My handsneeded to connect at the right spot on her body at the right time, or I risked pushing her off the woven seat. It was a great responsibility that took all of my focus, and by the time she’d commanded me to stop so she could play on other equipment, I was sweating with anxiety.
With Melly off to ride on a structure shaped to mimic a fanciful pink animal, I’d thought my job was done, but the moment I turned from the swing, there were other human children clamoring for my attention. I climbed on top of a structure that protested my weight with a squawk and lifted the smallest to the next level of handholds. I spotted young humans who scaled a wall with only tiny plastic pieces to support their upward movements. I huddled underneath a swinging set of planks connected by loose rope, reaching between the gaps to mock-threaten children who squealed in delight.
