Oskar Gigenstooper

Oskar Gigenstooper

“Oskar, a creator that does not engage with the world around them is no different than a dragon sitting on a horde of treasure in its cave. No change, no impact, no point. The cave might as well be empty. Why do you think I left Mt. Nevermind? Despite the brilliance of those who live there and the wondrous things they do, their self imposed seclusion renders the mountain insignificant and inconsequential.”

The words from Oskar Gigenstooper’s mother reverberate in his mind as he grips the side railing of the ship. His messy brown hair dances in the continual sea breeze. Well, messy now at least. His mother is right of course. She always is. No matter how much he wishes he could just live out his days with his mother and father in their perfect corner of the world, he knows deep down that his heart and soul needs more.

As he watches the sea rolling across the side of the vessel, Oskar finds his thoughts spanning the years back to when he was a boy. He and his father were settled on the outskirts of town, and they enjoyed that fact. Neither he nor his father were the most sociable. Ever since the day Oskar was left anonymously in front of his father’s door, it had been the two of them, through thick and thin. His father’s full time job was putting food on the table, be it by agriculture, hunting, or craftsmanship. 

Oskar’s full time job was figuring out how his father could work part time. He constantly peppered his father with ideas on how to more efficiently plant crops or little inventions designed to snare a deer, chop a carrot, mend clothing, and so on. Though Oskar’s little sparks of ingenuity (outside of a few instances) usually didn’t amount to much except a smile or a laugh from his father, that was good enough for Oskar. They didn’t live the most grand or exciting lives, but that was ok. They were content. Little did they know, excitement was going to careen into their lives in the form of a most unexpected visitor.

It was the day of an uncharacteristically powerful rainstorm for the season. Oskar and his father were on their way back from town with a cart full of supplies and what they couldn’t sell. Though it was pouring, Oskar was positively beaming. Normally, a full cart wouldn’t be feasible for his father to haul on his own, but it was no ordinary cart. Oskar had worked months on modifying it so that his father could pump a lever from side to side to propel it forward, which was particularly handy considering their home was up an extended incline from town. 

Finally, Oskar had created something of real use to his father. It wasn’t like the carrot guillotine, the fish house, the triple pointed sewing needle, the… CRACK! Oskar was jolted from his recollection of lackluster inventions, and one look at his father rendered Oskar’s good mood all too soluble in the pouring rain. Something had broken in the mechanism, and neither the lever or the cart would budge. Despite Oskar and his father’s best efforts, it soon became clear that they were going to have to abandon the cart until the weather let up. 

Just a few steps into their journey back home and what Oskar now thought was the worst day of his life, his father stopped. Oskar was about to ask what in the world his father was doing when he heard it too. Whining? It got louder. Yelling? It got even louder. Screaming. Someone was screaming at the top of their lungs and closing in quickly. A few moments later, time seemed to slow as Oskar saw a small… a very small woman sliding down a mudslide, hit a natural ramp, and launch into the air. Out of instinct, Oskar’s father moved to intercept the woman, but the added weight from her pack and the unstable ground resulted in his father tumbling to the ground with the woman on top of him.

The rest, as they say, was history. Oskar and his father soon learned that this woman was a gnome from Mt. Nevermind just looking for her place in the world. In exchange for repairing the cart seemingly by magic, Oskar’s father offered for her to stay with them. As it happened, the unusual weather kept up for a week, prolonging the woman’s stay. In that time, the woman not only provided some welcome assistance to Oskar’s father , but also took an interest in Oskar’s proclivity for invention. That week turned into two weeks, which turned into a month, which turned into a season, and so on. Oskar’s father fell for the woman’s enthusiasm, kindness, and ability to nourish his son’s wonder. She fell for his sense of responsibility, the heart he wore on his sleeve, and how he could make her feel like she was the brightest star in the night sky.

To Oskar, the woman might as well have been the rainbow from that week manifested to show him the splendor of the world. She engaged with all of his ideas, new and old, taking the opportunity to teach him something new with each one. She showed him the principles that his intuition had known were present, but couldn’t grasp on to. One of Oskar’s favorite things was when she challenged him to approach simple tasks such as fishing or making a stew  in as many different ways as possible. Who knew you could catch a fish with an onion, some string, a fork, and a wooden box? 

More important than teaching Oskar though, the woman was simply there for him and his father. She was a shoulder to cry on in sad times, a helping hand in tough times, and a source of joy and laughter in the good times. As time went on, Oskar realized this woman was not only his teacher and his friend, but his mother. She made it so that putting food on the table was a part time job for all of them, and that enjoying life as a family was the other. Even though she was a small… a very small gnome woman. She was, is, and always will be larger than life to Oskar.

“VOGLER IN SIGHT!” yelled the ship’s watch. Oskar looks up, realizing he didn’t even notice they had entered the Kalaman Bay. Watching the town’s features become more distinguished as they grow nearer, he sighs deeply. He wishes he was traveling for a more happy occasion, rather than a funeral. Ispin was a good man, though. Not everybody would have gone through the trouble of tracking Oskar down to return one of his creations, on top of  bringing the thief along to make amends. It also happens that the stolen creation was one of Oskar and his family’s favorites, dubbed by his father “the go-go juicer”. It takes beans native to the area they live in and brews a dark bitter liquid that puts a pep in your step for the rest of the day.

Thus, with Oskar’s father’s famous, “A Gigenstooper does good to those who do good to them!” line and his mother’s insistence that he doesn’t become a lethargic dragon on a pile of treasure, there was no avoiding this trip. A grin tugs at the corners of Oskar’s mouth. He must admit, despite his homesickness and the grim purpose of the trip, he can’t help but wonder what awaits him in this city of Vogler. He also shakes his head as he recalls, even as she wept with his father in their farewells, the same subtle, yet knowing grin on his mother’s face.