A RAG DOLL’S GUIDE TO HERE AND THERE
By Richard Roberts
A Mystique Press Production
Mystique Press is an imprint of Crossroad Press
Digital Edition published by Crossroad Press
Smashwords edition published at Smashwords by Crossroad Press
Digital Edition Copyright © 2019 Richard Roberts
Cover art by Nicole Johnson
LICENSE NOTES
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the vendor of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Meet the Author
Richard Roberts is drawn to dark, strange fairy tales, which of course is why he got famous for his perky middle school supervillain stories instead.
That presents the two halves of his work, the fun and crazy, and the dark and weird. In both cases, he does his best to entertain, to look at old ideas to see how strange they are if you think them through, and to make a story where his characters earn their happy endings.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Please Don't Tell My Parents Series
Book 1: Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain
Book 2: Please Don't Tell My Parents I Blew Up the Moon
Book 3: Please Don't Tell My Parents I've Got Henchmen
Book 4: Please Don't Tell My Parents I Have a Nemesis
Book 5: Please Don't Tell My Parents You Believe Her
Quite Contrary
Sweet Dreams are Made of Teeth
Wild Children
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Elsewhere
Chapter One
“It’s always beauty or power. Why does a heroine always have to choose?” our heroine complained.
The problem was that she couldn’t wear both the crown and the pointy hat at the same time. The hat might fit over the crown, but they stopped working if she did that. Dropping the crown over the point of the hat was equally useless, and looked stupid. This little girl—no, young woman—was not making her first impression on her very own magical world like the awkward geek she was back home.
That made the crown tempting. She slipped it on again, and ran her fingers over her face. Smooth, without a hint of acne. Her dark hair puffed up, full and lustrously black. Her fingernails had the same gleam. Her parents would have a fit if she ever wore makeup, but they looked polished. Even her brown skirt and tan sweater gleamed like the leather of an exciting adventuress.
“On the other hand, power.”
After all, she hadn’t met anyone yet, and the pointy hat was fun. She switched out the crown for the hat. Sure, she felt ugly again, but now she could snap her fingers, wave in a circle, and point.
“Zoom kaboom!”
A paving stone catapulted off of the road and into the air. She cackled in glee, watching it soar upward until it disappeared. Would it ever come down? She kind of hoped it wouldn’t.
Wearing the hat, she could do magic. That made her feel like she fit in, which was as alien and delicious as feeling beautiful. This place reeked of magic. The temple had seemed mystical enough before she saw the wall of clouds and the floating steps leading down to a lush green kingdom with blue skies and everything neat and tidy.
The hat would do until she met a local, but that might be soon. She was coming up on the perfectly square forest now, and the little house in front of it.
Up close, the house wasn’t all that little. It squatted, low and long and picturesque, a comfortable but tidy log cabin. The precisely, exquisitely square forest looked even more rigidly neat now that she could see the individual trees. They might not be all the same height, but they were all laid out in a grid at equal distances.
A creak and a crash signaled one of those trees, right at the edge, falling down. Next to it stood a lumberjack in a pair of overalls and a plaid flannel shirt. Oh, and he had a tree stump for a head. Beauty, magical powers, and an enchanted land of her own. A chance to be a heroine. The girl had been dreaming of this all her life.
“Hey!” she yelled, debating if she should switch to the crown. Meeting her first subject would be the time to be beautiful, graceful, and regal. Also in charge. On the other hand, skinny stump-head man had an axe. He would probably use it to defend her, but if he did prove unfriendly the pointy hat meant charcoal briquette time.
She didn’t get to rule him or roast him. He didn’t seem to hear her, and marched off into the forest instead. Yes, a fat rat popped out of the ground and a little bundle of grass with wings flew out of the trees to start pulling apart the stump he’d left behind, but she wasn’t going to start her new kingdom with a rat.
Instead, she’d follow the road a little farther to that picnic.
Even from a distance it was obviously a picnic. Big red and white checked blanket, half a dozen or so people sitting around it, wicker baskets and all. As she approached and got a better look it was definitely still a picnic, but after that things got a little hazy.
The plates and food laid out were fine. The major problem was the guests. Yes, this was an enchanted land, but there wasn’t a single actual person in attendance. Not even an elf or talking animal. Ranged around the blanket were half a dozen dolls that any six-year-old’s bedroom would be proud of. The presence of a heap of old laundry and a beat-up rocking horse with leather padding just enhanced the effect. If it weren’t for the wooden toy soldier marching proudly on patrol around the picnic, it would be easy to mistake the whole thing for an abandoned tea party.
The dolls did move. Even the
heap of laundry moved, fussing with a sewing kit as worn as its clothing, counting out needles in preparation to darn a cast-off sock.
Crown time! The girl switched hats, and now she truly felt like a young woman. She strolled over to the picnic blanket with a grace and confidence she’d never known before. It felt good.
At one end of the blanket sat a china doll that dwarfed the others. If it could stand up, it would come up at least to the girl’s waist. It didn’t stand. Its legs didn’t move at all, but when it noticed the girl its upper body bent forward in a bow, arms spread. It had a nice voice, but a bit artificially hollow. “Friends, we have a new guest. A special guest.”
“A human!” squeaked the plastic doll with the spiral red curls. This one could stand, hopping to its feet and then bowing so fast it fell over on its head.
The girl snorted. Across the blanket, another doll fell over, cackling.
“That wasn’t very—oh my, a human!” exclaimed the nearest doll. This one didn’t even make it to its feet before falling all over itself. The laughing doll laughed harder, with a wicked edge to its voice.
The laundry heap squashed down. “Your highness. We could not be more honored. Are you new Here?”
“I never thought I’d live to see another human,” said the rocking horse, leaning forward in an imitation of a bow. It had the first male voice she’d heard, wheezy and British. The dolls had been high pitched and girly.
A stumpy grey leg pushed the rocking horse back before it also fell on its face. Sitting next to the horse was a… thing. Maybe it had been meant to be a donkey stuffed toy? Some kind of animal, sewn together by the worst seamstress in the world? Mostly it looked like a pillow with short legs and button eyes. It also sounded like a man, or at least a deep-voiced, solemn boy. “Don’t you be falling over, too. Some of us aren’t meant to bow, and shouldn’t try.”
“Have a seat, and tell us about your adventures,” urged the pile of clothes. It had the scratchy voice of an old woman. There might be an old woman in there. On second thought, the pile was too small, and the rocking horse just said humans were rare.
“Do I have to have an adventure?” Adventures meant danger. Danger she would overcome as the heroine and princess, of course, but the girl wasn’t sure if she wanted adventure or not.
The oversized china doll bowed again. It had an annoyingly smug smile, like a girl who knew she was popular. It knew who was in charge here, at least. “Oh, no, Your Highness. I haven’t heard any rumors that Somewhere is in any danger.”
The laundry nodded. “If it was, someone would tell us.”
Rearing back a few inches, the rocking horse announced—of course—stuffily, “Since you are the only human Here or There, and you have a crown, I foresee you ruling us with grace and wisdom into a new golden age.”
Okay, that was more like it. Even the china doll asked, “Would Your Highness honor me by taking tea?” It held up a cup and saucer in one hand, and its teapot in the other. As if a waist-high talking china doll wasn’t creepy enough, the teapot was actually part of its hand.
Creepy or not, it clearly worshiped the girl, and now all the dolls stared up at her in reverence. Never, ever, had so many people been so happy to see her. She let the china doll pour, and took a sip. Hot and sweet and fresh.
The crown had been the right choice.
“Oh, my, you’re so pretty!” A plastic pink heart on Oh My’s dress lit up. She looked like a cheap supermarket toy, the kind where you squeeze and it talks.
“But even a human’s hair isn’t as beautiful as mine,” cut in the doll with the spiral curls.
Her Highness gave it a sharp look, and asked, “Is that how you talk to a princess?”
The redheaded doll just kept patting its hair. Instead, the doll with a sense of humor on the far side of the blanket snickered. “Forget it. Copperlocks can only talk about hair. If your crown wasn’t in your hair, she wouldn’t even know you were a princess.”
Copperlocks looked up again. “Do you think a crown would look good in my hair?”
Her Highness gave it a try. “Is the weather always this nice?”
“Sometimes I worry that all this sunshine will bleach my beautiful red curls!” squeaked Copperlocks.
“None of us can help how we’re made,” interjected the tea server.
How they were made. Right. The princess set down her cup and sighed. “You’re all just toys. For a minute there, I thought you acted like people.”
Come to think of it, being the only human ruling a kingdom of toys that all adored her had a certain appeal. She would be safe, forever.
The misshapen pillow growled, “For a minute there, I thought you acted like a princess.”
“Oooooooooh.” The doll with a sense of humor’s tiny feet kicked with malicious glee.
And that ruined the mood completely. Kicking her teacup and a plate of cupcakes out of the way, the princess stomped across the blanket and grabbed the unidentifiable thing by its patch of hair. “Is that how you talk to a princess, you ugly stitched up rag?”
The rocking horse wobbled back and forth nervously. “It was terribly disrespectful, Grumpy.”
More snickers from the joking doll. “Grumpy Gus only knows how to complain. Wait for it…”
On cue, Grumpy Gus folded his stumpy arms, button eyes staring right up at the girl’s face in defiance. “I don’t respect nobody that don’t respect me.”
Maybe the best part of a kingdom of toys was that you never had to feel guilty about anything. One thing was for sure, there was no place in this princess’s realm for pillows with attitude. Clamping one hand over its sort-of-mouth to shut it up, she hooked her shiny girlish nails into the badly stitched seam down its belly and yanked…
Chapter Two
What an unpleasant girl. Maybe heroes and heroines aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. This story deserves someone nicer to tell it. Someone sweet and friendly and faithful. Someone who’s smart enough to tell the story, and will be there to see it happen.
But who?
Chapter Three
“She’s moving. I think I can save her!”
Oh, my. Words. I wasn’t dead anymore!
I still hurt, and I couldn’t see straight. I flailed my arms. Oh, ow, no good. The hurt was a needle still sewing my left arm back on.
“Why is everything all broken looking?” Yay, I could talk! If only I could see. Big flashing jagged lines ran right through the face above me. That was a face, right? Everything all bent around the lines and didn’t make sense.
“Your eye cracked, and I don’t know where the other is. I tried to find it. Stay still, and cross your fingers this— oh, sorry.” She had a pretty voice. I liked whoever saved me already. I twisted my hand like I was crossing fingers.
The sewing needle stung even worse on my face, but she’d said to lie still, so I did. It felt like a blink when she pulled the thread tight.
Yay! “It worked! I can see again!” Oh, drat. “Only, not really. There’s a big X in the middle of everything. And you’re all fuzzy.” I patted my new left eye. It felt funny, all hard edged. I reached up and tried to pat the face above me. Couldn’t reach. My left arm was the wrong color, too.
The face moved closer, and I tried to touch it again. Nope, still couldn’t reach. I could see her pink fingers pretty well as she tied my new eye all safe and snug. She sounded really worried as she asked, “What’s your name? What happened here?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I know my name.” I shook my head, and I hardly hurt at all. Well, my body hardly hurt at all.
“Her name is Heartfelt, Miss Your Ladyship,” said a man. Hey, I knew that voice. Jack was here.
I switched to nodding, and traced the pink heart sewn onto my chest. I could feel the edges, so at least that was still there! “I am Heartfelt, yes, but I don’t know what happened, no.”
That was a lie. I remembered just fine, at least up until that awful, scary girl grabbed the seam in my side and—
I really didn’t want to think about that. Or talk about it. Yuck. A little white lie was better.
“My name is Sandy, Heartfelt. I think I put you back together right. How do you feel?” She sounded worried. Well, my goodness jeepers, who wouldn’t be?
I waved my right hand, and twitched my thumb. I waved my left hand, and twitched that thumb. It felt funny, but moved just fine. I gave each leg a kick. I patted my cap, and my dress. “Everything is okay, Your Sandiness.” Jack thought she was a lady, and Jack was very sensible. “Except I can’t see. It’s all a mess.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. All the other eyes were broken. Maybe… maybe… does this help?” Sandy sounded so guilty, like she hadn’t just saved my life!
She moved around. Brown lines got closer over my face. Wires slid over my cheeks…
And everything came into focus.
I smiled hugely. “Oh, my. Oh my, oh my, oh my! I can see! That worked perfectly! Well, I suppose ‘perfectly’ isn’t honest. The cracks didn’t go away, but now it’s quite easy to see around them. You’re a human!”
There was a lot to notice, but that leapt out at me first. I’d been saved by a human! Well, of course I’d been saved by a human, Heartfelt. Who else could? “Sandy” was a good name for her. She had the most amazing blonde hair. It was every color of yellow, from white to gold and almost to brown, and the colors moved around when she turned her head and the light fell on her different. To my limited experience, she looked young. Well, of course she would be just a girl. Why would an adult come all the way Here? I thought she was pretty, but she had a funny, flattened nose. I suspected that would be counted as a defect.
She blinked. She looked as guilty as if she were the one who killed me, not the one who put me back together. She sounded nervous, as well. “That was the first thing Jack said.”
“Naturally.” I nodded, and the glasses started to slip. Oh, my! I grabbed the wires and pulled them back into place, then held them there. I didn’t have ears to hold a pair of glasses in place.
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