Hudsonville: Tales of the Hunted

Chapter 10: Mycopolis

The clattering of dishes, the ambient drip-drop of water upon the capped rooftops, the idle chatter of the mushroom folk—a medley of sounds surrounded the group as they settled within one of the many underground establishments of Mycopolis. A cafe, this one, one which Drew told the kids he used to frequent before life threw him his most recent set of curveballs. It was, of course, carved into the trunk of an oak-sized shroom, the interior host to a spongey floor and ribbed walls. A soft blue bioluminescence permeated the space, and a thick, earthy stench found itself working its way into the group's noses.

Andy had to sneeze, as his shiitake-like server delivered a small porcelain cup of hot tea. The boy wipes his nose and eyes his drink. Dried, sliced caps float around in the dark liquid. He hesitates to take a sip—meanwhile Drew, comfortable as a clam, sits back and slams his drink with his feet propped up on the table. Cici had not sat down yet, as she wandered around the cafe, chatting with the Mycarnids, sifting through their many faded trinkets. A bulk of the decorations throughout had been water damaged in some way or another. Figures, seeing how they had gotten down there to begin with.

Hesitating, the boy finally mustered the courage to take a sip of his tea—a bitter concoction that tasted like soil—he spat it out almost immediately. Feigning a smile, Andy looked back up. Drew let out a hearty laugh.

"Too hot?" He asked.

"No," Andy replied while wiping his mouth. "Too muddy."

"Aye. Not exactly a sipper, that."

"No kidding."

One of the workers approached Andy with a bundle of warm linens—linens covered in mold and mildew. Though Andy politely declined the offer, the wet boy was very quickly and forcefully scrubbed down. All the while, Drew watched closely, chewing on the rubbery caps at the bottom of his cup. A wide grin was pasted on his scarred face.

"So, Andy, right? Tell me about yourself. Why're you lookin' for your dad?"

Andy shifted somewhat nervously in his seat. "It's just, you know. Before I'm stuck here forever, I think...I just need some closure."

"Your mom, she in the picture at all?"

"No, she...passed. Pretty recently." Andy said.

Drew's sharp brows grew dull while he chewed the words. His shoulders rolled back, his position on the bar stool growing slack and casual.

"Sorry to hear that, kid."

"Ain't exactly your fault, I don't reckon."

"Still, I mean...I know what it's like, yeah?"
Andy's gaze panned upward. "What do you mean?"

"Losin' a parent," Drew sighed as he crossed his legs. "My ma, she was uh...she was taken from me pretty recently too. A group of hunters were after my head, and she was caught in the crossfire."

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

"Eh, don't be. Like you said, ain't your fault. Besides," The man furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. "She shouldn't have been in a place like this to begin with. Guess that's on me."

"Your mom, was she a human?"

"Yeah. What about your old man?"

"As human as the day he was born."

"You really are a pup, then, huh?"

Andy groaned. "You don't need to put it like that."

The man laughed, tossing another soggy mushroom into his mouth.

"Anyways, it's nice you've still got him."