Stan came over and placed a hand on Fiddleford's shoulder. "You what, little buddy? "

His small friend drew a deep breath and shook his head as if in disbelief. "He said that—their friends in the forest had chosen me to—"—he exhaled—"—to plant and care for the—orbs in that there box—"

Ford looked over his shoulder at the black box on the trunk, and Stan followed his gaze.

"—because two more of their kind would grow from them. He also said they chose me because-" Fiddleford blushed –"—because their forest friends had told them about my – my kindness to their friends, and that with kindness came loyalty. "

As Fiddleford spoke, his face became more and more red.

Stan and Ford just grinned at each other a moment, then Ford said, "You are kind and loyal, Fidds. How these—Gohlen creatures found that out we may never know, but they're right. "

"Yeah," Stan agreed, getting down on one knee by the couch and looking into his friend's watery blue eyes. "I know I keep sayin' this, an' you're gonna turn even more red, but you jumped in the way of a dagger and saved my brother's life. If that ain't kind and loyal, I dunno what is. "

True to Stan's prediction, Fiddleford's face went a darker red. "B-but, I—I'm just…" he trailed off.

"You have a good heart, Fiddleford." Ford said. "You're kind, and loyal, and brilliant, and you're strong,—on the inside especially, and that's where it counts most. I don't know what anyone said to you in the past—at the orphanage or anywhere else—but unless they told you those things, you need to forget them. "

The young man next to him turned his gaze inward for a moment. In the back of his mind, he could almost hear the voices of the headmistresses at the orphanage and the older (or at least larger) children saying things like:

"Worthless runt!"

"Panty waist!"

"Boy, you'll never amount to anything."

"Fiddleford! Stop wasting your time tinkering with junk and do something worthwhile! "

He almost chuckled at the last voice that rang in his head. Stop tinkering, indeed. If he'd have "stopped tinkering", he wouldn't be where he was right now—with two of the best friends he could have ever asked for.

"Fiddleford? "

He looked up at Ford, who was gazing at him with a concerned frown on his face.

"I'm all right, Ford. You're right—the things they used to say to me weren't true, an' I have t' stop thinkin' of 'em. "

He reached over and placed his hand on the Gohlen's black box, then looked back at the twins. "Would—would you both come with me tomorrow when I plant these? "

Ford grinned. "Of course."

"You bet, kiddo." Stan answered, smiling himself.

There was a moment of silence, then Stan stood up. "You hungry at all, Fidds? "

His small friend took a deep breath and sniffed the air, placing a hand on his stomach. "Y'know, I am—I didn't realize it until now. "

Ford smiled and stood up, "Come on. I made chicken soup from the leftovers we had the other night. There's plenty left. "

His smaller friend stood up. "Sounds wonderful-thank you kindly. "

Both of the twins placed an arm around their smaller friend's shoulders and headed downstairs.

The next morning, Ford and Stan followed Fiddleford into the forest. Both had a sneaking suspicion where their friend wanted to plant the orbs in the box.

Sure enough, they followed him straight into the clearing where they'd found him playing his banjo a few days before.

Stan hefted the shovel he'd been carrying over his shoulder off of it. "You want me to dig, kiddo? "

Fiddleford shook his head. "Thank you, Stan, but no. I think I should. "

Stan grinned.

He and Ford watched as Fiddleford put down the box, getting on his knees in front of it. When he opened it, all three of the young men drew in a sharp breath.

Two brass-colored orbs sat in some soft material in the box. The orbs were covered with raised lines, almost like roots (veins?) were underneath the brass colored surface. They glowed ever so slightly.

Fiddleford stood and took the shovel from Stan. The twins watched as their friend dug two holes, each about a foot and a half away from each other.

When he was done digging the second hole, Fiddleford stepped back. "I wonder if they're deep enough."

Ford stepped closer and looked into each hole. Well, Fiddleford, I think that your tree friends trusted that you would know what to do. These holes both look deep enough that the dirt you put back in will completely cover them, so I would trust that that's enough. "

His smaller friend smiled appreciatively and went back to the open box. Gently he picked up one of the orbs with both hands. Did he feel it—pulsating?

Just as gently he placed the orb in the bottom of the hole, and did the same with the second orb. Afterward he retrieved the shovel and covered them both up with dirt.

"Well, fellas," Fiddleford said after patting the last bit of dirt over the second hole and sitting back on his haunches. "I guess in a couple of days—"

Both he and the twins drew sharp breaths as the ground where the orbs had been planted began glowing. After a few seconds two twigs came up out of the ground. One of the twigs sprouted a leaf at the very top, the other a small branch out the side. Within a few seconds they both had a thin branch coming out each side, and after a few more seconds both little sprouts had grown to about an inch in diameter. Fiddleford saw the "cuts" that were the creatures' mouths appear, and suddenly they both were looking up at him with tiny dark eyes.

"Amazing."

"Holy—"

"Oh, my goodness."

The baby Gohlen both twisted their trunks as if to look at each other. Fiddleford and the twins heard little noises, like babies cooing. They both turned back then. Each little Gohlen stretched out one of their twig "arms" and wrapped one around one of Fiddleford's fingers.

"Aw, hey there, little fellers." The young man said, grinning broadly. Stan wasn't surprised to see a tear come to his little friend's eye, but was glad it wasn't from fright or sadness this time.

"So, how does it feel to be a new dad, kid? " Stan said.

Ford smacked his brother's arm, but couldn't help but notice that Fiddleford's face was glowing as though he were seeing his first child for the first time.

"It feels real good, Stan." Fiddleford answered, still gazing down at the Gohlen sprouts. "It feels real good. "