Layer 3: A Booting Revisited Fiona's jaw dropped open. She suspected the reason for the discrepancy between her husband's story of his parents' death and the appearance of Groyl and Moyre on their doorstep would be an odd one, but Shrek's announcement that they were 'dead' to him chilled her. As he stared at his parents, he looked shocked and angry and sad and ... somehow insecure ... all at once. Then Fiona looked back at his parents. Groyl had an expression somewhere between anger and disappointment. Moyre simply looked hurt. As she beheld her son her eyes started to glisten. Fiona began to feel sympathy for her for the first time. "Shreklecheh!" Moyre said, "How can ye speak like that about your own mother and father?" "It wouldn't be easy," Shrek said, sounding more pained than angry now, "except for the booting. And ... just call me 'Shrek', Mom." "Why did ye shorten it to 'Shrek', anyway?" she asked. "'Shreklecheh' is a good name. It was my father's name." "'Shrek' is who I am now, Mom. You'd have learned that ... but for the booting." "Maybe we should go," Groyl said. Like Shrek, his voice held a mixture of pain and anger, but in the elder's case the anger seemed to be winning sway. "Maybe ye should," Shrek agreed curtly. Groyl's jaw set and his eyes narrowed. "Moyre," he said between clenched teeth, "let's go. He's not the maturity yet t'be reconciled." Groyl then reached over, took his wife's arm, and began leading her toward the door. Shrek began to step aside to give them room to leave. "WHOA!" Fiona said, stepping in front of the departing couple before they reached the door. "Please wait!" she beseeched Groyl. The older ogre looked down at her wordlessly, then over at Shrek. Groyl's face still had an angry set, and Fiona could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, but he gave a brief nod and did not advance any further. "Shrek," Fiona then said, turning to her husband, "these ARE your parents, aren't they?" "Aye," Shrek replied simply. "And they aren't REALLY dead. I mean, this isn't a Farquaad thing, right?" she asked. Shrek sighed, then nodded. "Right," he said. "Then I don't understand," Fiona said. "Why are you acting this way?" "It's ... it's hard t'explain, Fi," Shrek said. Although his anger was receding, he seemed to be struggling with considerably more than just finding words. "This isn't like the deal with YOUR folks. Not at all. Ye don't need t'feel obliged t'step into this. This doesn't affect US." "Oh, Shrek," Fiona said, approaching her husband, her tone softening, "of COURSE this affects 'us'. These are your PARENTS. Just as our marriage made you a part of MY family, it made me a part of YOURS." Then Fiona had a terrible thought, and added timidly, "Unless ... you're ashamed of me." "ASHAMED?" Shrek gasped. "Good grief, Fi, that's the exact OPPOSITE of how I feel t'have ye as my wife! I've never been prouder of anything in my life than when ye married me!" Fiona gave her husband a brief, loving smile, and then implored, "Then what IS it? What is the ... the 'deal', as you put it ... between you?" Shrek sighed again, straightened up, and looked over at his parents. His face took on an expression of wounded pride and his own jaw set stubbornly. Fiona looked back over to Groyl, and except for the age and attire difference, thought she might have been looking at Shrek's reflection. Both males remained obstinately silent. Moyre, for her part, was looking down, and every so often seemed to be sobbing. Growing frustrated, Fiona thought back on what she'd heard so far, then turned back to Shrek. "Does it have to do with this ... 'booting' you mentioned?" Shrek gave a mirthless chuckle, then said, "Aye." "So ... what IS that?" she asked. Shrek nodded over to his parents. "Ask them," he said. "It was THEIR idea." Fiona turned back to his parents as Groyl said, "Shrek, that's not fair!" Moyre looked up then, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. "It was a TRADITION, Shreklecheh! It has been done to ogres for generations!" "But it was done to ME just ONCE," Shrek said. "Your grandfather did it to me, Shrek," Groyl said. "I got over it." "Didja, Dad?" Shrek retorted. "Well, good for you! I guess that makes ye a better ogre than me, doesn't it?" "I didn't say that!" Groyl growled. "So forgive and forget, is that it?" Shrek asked. "No," Groyl said, "we take the lessons learned, reconcile, and move on with our lives. That's the way it's done, Shrek. Ye don't forgive us ... because we've done nothing t'cause us to NEED your forgiveness." There was a pause while father and son glared at each other. Fiona took this time to ask, "So would someone PLEASE explain to me what a 'booting' is?" "Oh, Fiona," Moyre said irritably, "this doesn't concern you." "Uh, EXCUSE me?" Fiona said, turning toward the ogress and allowing some of her temper to have reign for the first time against her mother-in-law. "I think that anything that affects SHREK so deeply might just be of interest to ME. Isn't that part of the role of a good WIFE?" "That's not what I mean," Moyre said impatiently. "It's just that it's a tradition among ... our kind." "She's right, Fi," Shrek agreed, "ye wouldn't understand. It's an --" Shrek then cut himself off, realizing that he'd probably said too much already. As Shrek suspected, it was too late. Fiona glared at her husband, the embarrassments and frustrations and slights of the day finally starting to overcome her ability to control her temper. "Go ahead, Shrek," she challenged. "Go on! SAY IT!" "OKAY!" he shot back, the situation getting the better of him as well. "It's an OGRE thing!" "Well, SWEETHEART, I hate to have to point out that you and your parents aren't the ONLY ones around here with green skin and long ears!" Fiona retorted. "And not only have I now been an ogre for over half my life, but need I remind you that, when presented with an alternative, I readopted this form by CHOICE?!" "So are ye COMPLAINING about that, now?" Shrek asked. "No, not at all!" Fiona responded. "What I AM 'complaining' about is that you don't show me the respect I deserve by sharing with me what it means to BE an ogre in those areas where I might have missed something due to my ... special upbringing. Because, for better or worse, dear, I AM 'an ogre thing'!" "Okay, fine, you're right!" Shrek conceded with agitated reluctance. Then he looked into his wife's deep blue eyes, both fiery and earnestly yearning now, and he felt his anger dissolve like gingerbread in a bowl of hot milk. "You're right, Fi," he repeated, but this time with true remorse. "I'm sorry. I really am. To answer your question, a 'booting' is when the parents of an ogre child get together and decide to send their wee one out into the world on his own, without support of any kind, to make due as best he can." "What?!" Fiona gasped. "Not CHILD, Shrek!" Moyre said, hurt in her voice. "You were a MAN!" "I had just barely started puberty!" Shrek shot back, his own voice betraying more than a hint of pain. "Oh, grow up, Shrek," Groyl snapped. "We wouldn't have done it if we didn't feel ye were ready for it. An ogre at that age is already bigger and scarier than anything he might happen against in the forest. We'd just taught ye all we could, your mother and I, for surviving in this world. It was time for ye t'go and hue out your own niche in life. Ye were young and cocky and surly -- and independent. To have kept ye at home under mommy and daddy's care any longer woulda taken the edge off those traits, and an ogre NEEDS t'keep those traits sharp to survive." "Listen to your father, Shreklecheh!" Moyre injected. "We did it for your own good! It was time for ye t'find your own destiny!" "Oh, my!" Fiona gasped, then covered her mouth with her cupped hands as her eyes widened in recognition. Moyre rolled her eyes and turned towards Fiona. "I know," Moyre said. "It upsets human sensibilities. YOU think kids oughtta be allowed to hang around the parents' apron strings until --" "No, no, that's not it!" Fiona said. Then her eyes locked with Shrek's, and her husband automatically seemed able to read her thoughts. "It's not the same, Fi," he said. "No, but it's awfully darned close!" she replied. "What are ye two TALKING about?" Moyre asked, confused. An ironic smile played at the corner of Fiona's mouth. "It seems that I had my own 'booting'," she said. "What?!" Moyre repeated. "I was about that same age when MY parents sent me away from MY home," Fiona replied, looking at her mother-in-law. "For MY good. To find MY destiny. Or maybe ..." Fiona's eyes drifted back to Shrek. "... it was for my destiny to find ME." Shrek saw Fiona's eyes start to assume that dreamy quality, and he rolled his own. "Yeah, well, just one wee bit of difference, dear," Shrek noted. "Your parents locked you in a castle where ye were watched over by Dragon. All security and no freedom. Me, I had freedom, alright, but ..." Shrek stopped, frowned, heaved a great sigh, and said, "Never mind." He then looked around to see three pairs of eyes staring silently, expectantly at him. He just shook his head, turned, and walked over to the fireplace where he braced his arms against the mantle and stared into the flames. After a moment, however, Fiona wandered over and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. "And you were frightened," she said softly. "I didn't say that," he countered defensively. "Shrek ... it's okay," Fiona whispered. Shrek sighed. "At first it was fine," he said, his voice mellowing. "It was great, actually. I was looking forward to it. They told me I was all grown now and it was time t'go off on my own and find my destiny. So I marched off into the woods, thinking how free I was and how I was really gonna do my share of damage in this old world. So I did everything from scaring off villagers I chanced upon on the trails to wilting flowers with my stench. Even got bit by a snake once, and the SNAKE died! Yeah, I was young and full 'o spit. A regular king of my domain. But ... well, the domain got lonely after a while. I found out that finding my 'destiny' was taking longer and was a bit harder than certain storybooks would have ye believe. So I tried doing what I'd been told not to. I tried going back home. But they were gone." "We had to, Shrek," Groyl said, stepping forward, his own voice softer. "It's part of the --" "Tradition, yes Dad, I get it," Shrek finished for him. "To prevent just that type of thing from happening. I understand that, here" -- Shrek tapped his head -- "but it still hurt down HERE" -- Shrek tapped his chest. "Oh, Shreklecheh," Moyre said, also stepping forward, "if ye only knew -- ye were never alone --" "MOYRE!" Groyl barked at his wife. Moyre quickly bit her lip and looked down. But it was too late not to intrigue Shrek. He turned back around now and looked straight at his parents. "What?" he asked. The older ogres tried to avoid Shrek's eyes. "Tell me!" Shrek said, his voice taking on more urgency. Then, after a moment, he added in a gentler but even more urgent tone, "Please!" Groyl sighed deeply, gave his wife one more reproachful glance, then looked Shrek directly in the eye. "T'be honest, Son, not ... everything ... went according to tradition." Shrek's eyes narrowed. "What d'ye mean?" he asked. Groyl hesitated, but then Moyre looked up at Shrek and spoke. "Your father followed ye, Shrek." "What?!" Shrek asked, confused. "He followed ye when ye left our home," she continued. "Camped near where you camped, kept an eye on you from a distance, t'make sure ye were doing all right." "But I never saw --" Shrek began. "Ye weren't supposed to," Groyl said. "I was older and had more experience, Shrek. I knew how t'keep stealthy." "So how long were ye watching over me?" Shrek asked, astounded. Groyl gave a self-conscious shrug. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe a couple of weeks --" "Six months," Moyre said, "until he was sure ye'd be okay. I wanted t'be there, too, but he said it'd be tempting fate, having us both trying t'keep around ye secretly. He was your guardian angel, Shrek. He --" "That's enough, Moyre," Groyl said quietly, then looked away, blushing, as Shrek's jaw dropped. "Dad," Shrek said, "ye did that ... for me?" Groyl shrugged again and looked back up at Shrek. "Ye were my son," he said. "It was my ... duty." "But ye broke the rules," Shrek noted, and started to smile. "Hey!" Groyl said, "What good ogre DOESN'T break some rules every now and then?" Groyl and Shrek beheld each other silently for a few seconds more. "Dad ..." Shrek ventured tentatively. "Yes ... Shrek?" Groyl asked. "I ... " Shrek began, then paused, then lunged at his father, and before the surprised elder ogre could react he found himself trapped in a huge bear hug. "I love ye, Dad," Shrek said quietly, "and I've missed ye ... so much." "Son," Groyl said, his voice uncertain, "I ... uh ..." he forced a laugh and added, "I think that maybe ye've been hanging 'round humans too long!" But a few moments later Groyl reached forward and returned his offspring's hug with equal intensity. "I love ye, too, son," he whispered. Both ogres, eyes closed, continued embracing for several seconds. As Fiona watched the father and son she felt tears of her own begin welling in her eyes. She looked over at Moyre, but the moment that she made contact with the elder ogress Moyre turned away. Fiona's initial instinct was to simply regard this as one more slight from a mother-in-law who either felt obliged to play out her stereotypical role or had found some real fault in Fiona which the younger ogress hadn't figured out yet. But for some reason that she couldn't quite pin down, Fiona got an uneasy impression that there was something else in that brief expression that she saw in Moyre's face before the elder ogress turned away that indicated something far more serious than that. And it made the hairs on the back of Fiona's neck begin to rise.