The History of Yardale

The Holy Mother

Mole had been dreading their next location for the entire duration of the trip. When he ran away with Gregory and Estella years ago, he had expected to never see his parents again- especially his mother. Now he was being forced to see them, and he wasn't thrilled. 

Whilst the group was on their way to Mole's former home, he had asked, "Do we really have to go here?"

"Yes, Mole." said Gregory. "We do. Your parents could help us learn vital information." 

"I doubt they'll tell us shit." Mole replied angrily. 

The group felt bad for Mole, but they also understood that his parents could potentially be withholding important information. In awkward silence, they continued on to Mole's parents' house. 

Once they had reached the door to the house, all Mole could do was stare. He didn't want to knock or even go near the place, fearing how his simple presence could inconvenience his mother. From the moment he had existed, his mother had hated him. She had hated him and not once showed an ounce of love for him. Mole didn't know whether it was because he was a bad son or she was a bad mother, but he did know that he did not want to walk through the door in front of him and find out. 

"I can't do this shit." he mumbled. Hearing these words, Gregory walked up to Mole and looked him in the eyes. 

"Yes you can, Mole. It's best if we just get the information we need and get this over with. The sooner we go in, the sooner we can leave." Gregory said.

"They don't want to see me." said Mole. "They want me gone. That's the whole reason why those assholes sent me off to Yardale. They hate me."  

As if it was on cue, footsteps were heard from inside the house. Once they seemed to have reached the door, it opened and a woman's voice was heard. "Si vous essayez de me vendre quelque chose, je n'en veux pas." 

When Mole saw his mother's face in the doorway, he wanted to run. He wanted to disappear off of the face of the earth and never have to deal with his family again. When he and his mother locked eyes, though, he knew it was too late to run. 

"Christophe?" Mrs. DeLorne asked, speaking in a French accent thicker than her son's. "What do you want?" 

 Mole wanted nothing from his mother. He knew wanting her to go back and be a kinder mother was too much to ask. "We need to talk with you."

Mrs. DeLorne sighed. "Viens à l'intérieur et aide-moi à préparer le dîner." She walked inside and was reluctantly followed by Mole. 

In confusion, Gregory whispered to Estella, "Don't you know French?" 

"I do." Estella said. "Funny I know your boyfriend's language better than you do." 

Gregory lightly shoved Estella. "I've tried, alright? It's not an easy language." 

"Oh, boo-hoo." Estella said mockingly. The two walked inside, along with the rest of the group. Mrs. DeLorne, Mole, Gregory, and Estella made their way to the kitchen whilst the others found places to sit and wait. 

When walking into the kitchen, Mole immediately recognized that his mother was cooking duck a l'orange . He had remembered it from the times he helped her make it as a child, causing him to quickly zone out and start cooking. 

"Are you two going to just stand there and not help?" Mrs. DeLorne suddenly asked Gregory and Estella. 

"Uhm- I can't say I'm familiar with the recipe." Gregory claimed anxiously. He initially was confident that he'd be able to impress Mole's parents, but now he wasn't so certain.