The price of freedom (Weekend freewrite)

No one is above the law, he said. Then he winked at her like she should know. The first time she'd told him about her organization, he thought it was a prank, typical teenager stuff - she was only 19 after all. But Melanie took it very serious and his jokes hurt her feelings. Still, as he was a few years older, he felt it was his duty to remind her every time that what they were doing was technically against the law. Actually, scrap that. It was theft and that was against the law. She could get in serious trouble and her fairy tales would not sway any judge in the world. On the contrary, they might put her on some pills to cure her of these hallucinations.

Melanie insisted that the gnomes were calling to her and begged her to free them. She just couldn't walk by ignoring their pleas. Plus, she was sure no one would go to all the trouble to report the disappearance of a few cheap garden gnomes.
'See, they don't really love these poor creatures, not like they love their cats and dogs. To them they're just lawn ornaments'.
Her cheeks were flushed and there was genuine passion in her voice. Since Janice, her leader and only other member of the local branch of the organization, was away for the weekend he volunteered to go with her and see what the 'crisis' was all about. It was not an easy feat to keep a straight face while she talked about the gnomes, but she was gorgeous in every other way and he wasn't going to lose her over such a silly thing. Plus, he felt there was no risk to the mission. The police in their town had loads of real crimes to deal with.

The doors slid open soundlessly, revealing the complete and utter chaos that I had been sent to fix. The leader of the rebellion seemed to be Giuseppe, the cranky little guy we'd rescued only two days ago from that garden on Maple Street. It was Janice who found them. It did not take long for Francesco to admit he was terribly unhappy with his present situation - looking at people going about their business all day long, while he was stuck there behind the fence. And his arm hurt as he had to raise his hat every time someone looked his way. Cosimo, the most elegant of the lot, was a self-styled philosopher and didn't care much one way or the other. To him, life was just as pointless, inside or out.
Even then, Giuseppe had been the most vocal of them three, wanting to know where they were going, who was going to clean his coat and his binoculars.
'And who's going to feed my dog?'
'He's made of clay, for Heaven's sake, just like us. He doesn't need food', Cosimo, himself the owner of a white mongrel, replied.

Turned out Giuseppe was right at least on this count - as free gnomes they had to care of themselves, rather then rely on their masters.
All the gnomes huddled in the abandoned forestry guard cabin looked rather worse for the wear, their nice little coats now muddy and stained. That's what usually happened in the early stages, the adaptation period before being relocated into the wild, as far away as possible from human settlements. Transition was hard, but it generally went smoothly, powered by the exhilarating rush of their newly discovered freedom.
Giuseppe, however, had come to the conclusion that he was better off in the garden and he had managed to gather a small following of equally distressed gnomes, who were now demanding to be taken back where they belonged.
I tried to calm down the little fellow, by offering to clean him up a bit with the wet wipes I usually carried for this purpose. Another gnome was missing half of his pointy cap, but luckily I managed to glue it back. With their tummies rumbling, I knew exactly what they needed - pretzels. They always did the trick. I promised they'd be moving to their new permanent home as soon as Janice was back.

The dog barked loudly. That was not supposed to happen, as Geronimo, leader of the free gnomes community, had assured them Clifford was old and hard of smelling. With so many able-bodied new members, it was time for them to come to some sort of arrangement with the farmer. Most of them had their own tools, which could come in quite handy if the, let's say, the farmer needed some weeds taken out or some wood chopped.
They would not ask for much as by way of payment - a few carrots, some salad...
'We can't live on salad and carrots. Do I look as a fluffy bunny to you?', Giuseppe protested. It was decided to ask for some eggs, too - surely, the farmer could spare a few. Maybe trade him some mushrooms for a nice piece of ham?
The dog's loud barking had awaken the farmer who looked mighty confused at the assembled lot of gnomes, with ragged clothes and loud voices. Sadly, he wasn't very sympathetic to the little guys' problems, nor was he interested in their offer. He had three strong sons to do all the work, no help needed. He was disposed, however, to keep Francesco as a decoration, among the rose bushes - 'my old lady has always wanted one'. Little Francesco raised his hat politely and backed off, watching the farmer uneasily. No way he was turning back to that life!
By winter, the gnomes had learned how to survive out there in the woods. The musicians among them played at the county fair, others took odd jobs helping little old ladies. A gnome that always carried around a little camera, decided to see the world and promised to send them postcards. Cosimo became their master chef and was busy writing a recipe book -'1000 ways to cook mushrooms'. Francesco made woven baskets to sell at the market. Giuseppe disappeared one day and only after a few weeks someone spotted him in the old farmer's garden, sitting idly by the rose bushes. He averted his eyes when he saw he'd been found.
There were accidents, too. One gnome was startled by the grunts of a boar and fell down a ravine, smashing in a thousand pieces. Another was run down by a car as he came back from the market. All in all, they survived their first winter in the wild - with some losses, it's true, but that was the price of freedom.

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge - the weekend special! Check out her blog and join our freewrite community.

Thanks for reading!

All images are my own.