Mother Mole, now a ghost, was the mother of The Happiest Family. She had two male sons and no male counterpart. Her first son she chose not to name because her love for him was only a small amount. He was known to most as the Four-Eyed Pumpkin Head Boy. His skull was a pumpkin, his brain a mushy orange pulp.
He had two eyebrows and two sets of eyes. The top eyes were shaped like less than/greater than symbols; the left eye, less-than, the right, greater-than. They were used primarily for prejudice and postjudice. His second pair of eyes were parentheses that enclosed his triangular nose. His parenthesis-eyes were used mostly for deep thinking.
He died in 1994 on Halloween; he lived to be seven years old.
Mother Mole's other son was called Alfred. He was younger than the Four-Eyed Pumpkin Head Boy, and wished he were a map. He was named after Mother Mole's gynecologist.
Alfred's face was flat and simple, like the work of a sad Cubist. He prayed every night to his god, the God of Cartography. "Please, God. Please, please stretch my face out and make it feel like paper. Turn my wrinkles into rivers, and my eye-area into a capital (Bratislava, preferably).”
He loved his older brother dearly. He didn't look up to him, though; he just had a perpetually cavernous affection towards him.
In 1994, the year of his brother's death, Alfred became filled with grief and ran away from home. All he brought with him was a can of green beans and a compass. This compass was a special compass, though; it was gift from God, he thought. He'd grabbed it after it had fell out of a tree near his home one day. He was convinced that the God of Cartography tossed it to him with a behind the back pass, which then landed on top of a tree, and then tumbled down to the ground right next to his house. "It's a sign!" he screamed into the wall; he had just watched six hours worth of behind the back basketball passes on Youtube, so the compass falling out of the tree onto the ground was obviously a behind the back pass from God.
Alfred took his special compass, his can of green beans, and went to the nearest Kinkos. He walked swiftly, and was panting and bawling by the time he'd made it to the entrance. He walked into the store, slammed his green beans down onto the front counter and demanded to the clerk that he be flattened and turned into a papery image of the Eastern Hemisphere. He also made it clear that Bratislava was to be clearly visible as a star on the right side of his face, atop his orbital bone. The clerk starred at him, breathing heavily.
"What are you waiting for?! Make me into a map! An old-styled map, like one from the 1970s! I'm a grieving boy, for Christmas' sake!"
The clerk stuck his arm out over the counter and let it wave in front of Alfred's face. His arm was a tentacle. Alfred was frightened. "I'm sor-"
The tentacle clung to his face and dragged him forcefully over the counter. The thirteen employees swimming under the counter then devoured him. After they'd finished their lunch, the main counter clerk said to his employees, "I now have a strange urge to go somewhere."
Mother Mole didn't realize she'd lost both of her sons until two and a half weeks later. When she learned of their respective deaths, she didn't cry. She wasn't sad. She was liberated. She was inspired. Right before she went to bed, though, she sat down and wrote a short story about them.