A Carol for The Heart

Warning: Turtle ToT Cuties!

Summary: A starving artist and his inventive younger brother learn there’s more to their hard life than struggling to survive.

NFA: This is a little Holiday story for

                “Hot potatoes for sale! Get your matches here! Matches for the fire! Wares and weeves get ‘em while they’re cheap!”

                The small street market was bustling with the merchants, each trying to sell their stock to the street shoppers. This time of year especially was good for the poor and lowly who had no trade, save their own talents, to sell what they could to the gentle and kind earthed patrons of the square. Carriages stopped and went as the pedestrians wondered from blanket to cart shopping for the quaint little treasures to bring to eager hands at home. Several small children played and browsed as their eyes were aglow with holiday cheer.

                However not all young souls were fortunate enough to enjoy the village scene in the winter wonderland. For at the very end of this market lived a ghastly old turtle who ran a work house for boys, the old snapper was known to all as Spike for the shape of his shell The cruel miser would work the orphaned little ones till their hands froze, and their noses ran, their only reward being a cold meal and hard mat to sleep on. The orphans called their master Slash after he began to whip the tired backsides with an old willow branch that left slashes of torn skin in it’s wake. One look at the old branch made each flush with fear, and did well to keep them in line as they stitched gloves and boots for the old turtle to sell on the markets. Not a penny did these poor tots see of their hard labors, and any who dare to ask for some thing more were hardly seen for a week.

                In this hovel of a home live two brothers, turtles of olive and emerald, unwantingly the master’s “favorites” they were put to work longer and more frequently. Not because of their species, for there were other young turtles in the work house at times. Just last month a caring family adopted two conjoined twins who could do twice as much work than the others because of their unique birth. The brothers had been fond of them and were exceptionally happy at their fortune. No these two brothers were not only strongly devoted to their work; they were strong of heart and mind. The older, being the emerald one, was called Raphael for his colorful work he could die the leathers and even paint all manner of creatures well on the heel of the boots. The olive younger, was called Donatello; his craftsmanship was unlike any had seen before, not only was he able to sew and bind the leathers in a way that it took years for them to fade, but he was an inventor. He made all kinds of little toys and things for the other boys, and last year when the boiler went out he was able to fix the old thing in less than a day. To say these two brothers brought the master a good sum was speaking lightly of their gifts, though they enjoyed them it was often a burden to bare. Each night Slash would lock them in a small room demanding new paintings and repairs be made by morning lest no one have any food the following day. So every night they were able to fiddle and fix, paint and create until their little hand’s were worn and bruised. But they always made it by morning feeling that alone they had given their friends another day of easier work and a happy master.

                It was now three days before Christmas, and once more they were locked into their little room, working by the dimmest light of the smallest candle they huddled around the small flame as they worked.

                “Raphie, do you think if we get everything done this time Master will let us have hot porridge for Christmas?” The small olive hands shook as it held the larger tool. “I’m nearly done with the repairs on the sewing machine.” He spoke hopeful as the screws were fitting into place.

                “I dun’ know Donnie, Slash has never done it ‘for why would he now?” The deep red eyes focused on his newest piece, a hummingbird sipping from an Easter Lilly. Looking up at his little brother he sighed, he had given his jacket to the small alligator boy who had just come to the home, the olive scales on his knees and shoulders were turning a pale mint color. He had offered his own shirt but the youngest refused saying it was easier to work without ‘constricting clothes’.

                Leaning in closer he gave the smaller turtle a warm hug and rocked them gently as he spoke. “I gotta secret to tell ya brother.” Smiling at the little gasp from his chest he continued. “I’ve sold a few scrap drawings to the little kids on the street when master wasn’t looking . If I can sell a few more we can run away and not have ta starve or freeze.” Looking down fully at his little brother he beamed proudly. “You’ll only have ta fix what you want. I can find work myself and we will be happy. We will be our own family.”

                Donnie smiled and hugged his big brother tightly, the thought of being free and happy with his warm protector made him happier than hot broth or bread! The thought was so big he began to cry from how happy they were going to be. His tilted his beak upward and kissed his sibling’s chin letting the tears warm his cheeks.

                “You’re the best brother ever Raphie.” Donnie hugged his brother once more than quickly went back to his work.

Happily the pair worked into the night unaware of the dark shadow that listened from the door to their little scheme. The jagged shell trembled as the master shook to control himself, his little golden geese were planning to leave the nest.

                “Well we can’t have that can we?” The gruff rumble was followed by the most despicable laughter as he took the small sum of coppers hidden among the little masterpieces in the sleeping rooms.