A Rag Doll's Guide to Here and There

by Richard Roberts

  All I could see was Pincushion’s furiously glaring face, and her wrenching, twisting arms. All I could feel was her soft body, pins poking into me, and the hard floor beneath us. But she made hardly any noise now, just grunted and sobbed, and I could hear Sandy clearly. “How could you trick me like this?”

  I pushed to my feet, holding Pincushion’s wrists. She was a prettier, better made clothling than me even before I’d needed repair. She also barely came up to my shoulders. She could shove, though, and we made our way right back up the steps as she pushed me back again and again, until I was planted against the base of the throne.

  Over near the wall, Charity shook her head, and snapped, “Don’t give me that look. You can’t make me feel guilty, because I haven’t done anything worth feeling guilty about. I’m not hurting you, I’m just sending you home early. We’ll lock you in a room with a mirrored floor. As soon as your glasses touch another mirror, you fall through. Done, nobody hurt.”

  With nowhere left to push, Pincushion grabbed the point of the hat again, trying to unwrap it. I still had her wrists, and, as much as I didn’t like it, it was time to get tough. As she strained against my stronger grip, I bent her arms around behind her.

  Wheezing, hoarse, inaudible to anyone but me, she whimpered, “You don’t know what you’re doing! You never know what you’re doing, you stupid fluff-head! Why did you pick now to stop listening to me?”

  She had a pin through one palm. Hating myself for doing it, I jammed that pin through the other hand, and then rammed the pin as hard as I could against the throne. The scratchy noise it made caused everyone in the throne room to wince, but the pin bent. When Pincushion tried to pull her hands apart, she couldn’t.

  Victorious, I stood upright, looking across at Sandy. Half a dozen guards had hold of her arms.

  Charity grunted, muttered, “Seriously?” and started walking toward me in long, impatient, determined strides.

  With Sandy in danger, I didn’t have to worry if I had the words right. I cupped my hands and cast, “Slap of the Dragon Wind!”

  The hat rippled around me like a cap. Charity’s dress billowed, her brown hair whipped about, and the golden tiara shot off of the top of her head. It landed in Sandy’s upraised hands.

  Uncertain now, the guards did nothing as she set the crown on top of her head.

  She had always been beautiful. Now she glowed, as if she was made of gold and all the lights of the room focused on her.

  Leveling a finger at the friend who betrayed her, Sandy commanded, “Arrest Charity.”

  In lockstep, the guards raised their axes, marched into a circle around Charity, and pointed the blades at her. “Human Charity. You are under arrest by order of Princess Sandy.”

  Charity laughed. Pushing her unkempt brown hair back behind her head, she let out a peal of loud, hilarious laughter. She finished with a lopsided, skeptical grin for the other human. “Sandy, they can’t hurt me.”

  “I don’t want them to—” Sandy started to say, but Charity didn’t let her finish.

  “No, they literally, physically can’t hurt me.” Contemptuously, she swung an arm out, pushing a couple of the blades up and out of the way. Taking a couple of steps, she shoved the guards between her and the throne out of the way as well. The group shuffled after her, but uncertainly. She ignored them, talking to Sandy in a merely amused tone. “They can’t hurt anybody. You have to order them repeatedly before they’ll even hurt other puppets. Did you see those stupid spoons? Just getting them to carry real halberds is taking work.”

  One of the guards tried to get in her way, and she took the halberd out of his hand, dropped it on the floor, and patted the cheek of his helmet. She still didn’t really look at him. She was talking to Sandy. “I know I can turn them into a real army, add a little seriousness without losing the whimsy. I don’t want danger, just…” She waved a hand in rippling movements, “…less of a nursery room feel. A real fantastic kingdom with snowy mountains and fairy woods and towns. Not a giant meadow with the occasional ‘Tourist Attraction Here’ sign.”

  Charity climbed the shallow steps to the throne. I stared up at her, terror turning my stuffing to ice, as she reached down and—

  No! I scrambled—

  Pincushion stuck out her leg and tripped me. I rolled down the steps, and when I hit the bottom, Charity’s hand closed around my waist. As she lifted me into the air, she unwrapped the witch hat, throwing it violently down next to Pincushion. A couple more steps, and she pressed her foot down on the foot of the dargon by the throne. When he opened his mouth to yelp, she said, “Puff.”

  Automatically, he grunted, and purple fire hovered between his jaws in a flickering ball. It was close enough for me to feel the heat wafting up.

  Now Charity looked back at Sandy again, and said, “I won’t fight you. Give me my crown, or I’ll burn your favorite toy.”

  I dangled, looking at Sandy pleadingly, although I wasn’t sure what I was pleading for. To save me? To resist? To be something I couldn’t imagine that would solve all of this?

  Even from here, I saw Sandy shaking, and heard the wobble in her voice. “Throw me Heartfelt first.”

  With a touch of sharpness and offense, Charity asked, “You don’t trust me?”

  Still shivering, Sandy said, “I did, until you tried to force me through a mirror.”

  Charity nodded, her smile grim and understanding. “Okay, yeah.”

  Her arm flicked. I tumbled through the air, everything whirling and revolving, to be caught in Sandy’s strong hands and clutched against her warm, sweater-covered chest. Without another word, still holding me close with one arm, she pulled the crown off with the other and tossed it back to Charity.

  She had surrendered to save me. I didn’t know if I should be disappointed or proud. I was certainly grateful.

  Loud and in command now, Charity declared, “See, I trust you, because I’m not a villain. I just want this place to myself, Sandy. I want that desperately. I want it enough to be a little backhanded to make sure I get it, but that’s not evil.”

  Still quiet, Sandy’s voice sharpened, losing its wobble. “You were going to burn Heartfelt, and that conquering There stuff sounded like an evil dictator thing to me.”

  Silence followed. In horrified curiosity, I twisted around in Sandy’s arm to see what was happening.

  Charity stared at Sandy for a long time, blank and confused. Slowly, her eyes and mouth widened in realization. “So that’s it,” she said, soft and breathy. “That’s why you’re being so weird about all this. You’ve been here for days, Sandy. I assumed you’d noticed by now. You and I are the only people here. They’re all puppets.”

  Wounded, Sandy said, “I know that some of them are dolls—”

  Charity spoke over her again. “No, they’re all puppets. All of them. Those rabbit things look convincing, don’t they? They’re balloons with lint stuck on them. Not joking. Dargons look alive, right?”

  Whirling, she raised a foot in a glittering silver shoe and stomped down hard on the dargon in the purple shirt. He shattered, scattering bits of punkin shell all around, and from the limp pile of his shirt a fat candle with a purple flame rolled down the steps, then went out.

  I screamed, hands groping behind me, trying to crawl up Sandy’s shirt. Pincushion, the guards, and a few servants on the far side of the throne room merely winced.

  Squeaking like chalk, Sandy said, “You killed him!”

  Glaring in exasperation and impatience, Charity answered, “No, I can’t kill them. They’re not alive. Look at this.” Grabbing another halberd from a guard, she jammed the blade into the joint between his breastplate and pants, and heaved. His top half tilted up, separating from the bottom, and both collapsed to the floor in a loud metallic clatter.

  Smirking, Charity watched it wave one arm feebly. The helmet mumbled, “Regulations imprison traffic ordinance.”

  Sandy’s arm squeezed me to her so tightly it hurt, with the same force as her
flat, solemn words. “They can still be alive no matter what they’re made of.”

  Charity’s smile softened with sadness and warmth as she turned it back to Sandy. Shaking her head, she said, “You’re the sweetest, nicest person ever, but it’s okay. Accept it. They’re just toys. You’ve talked to plenty of them by now, right? They say the same stuff, over and over, like robots. You can change their programming, make them a little more varied, but when you leave them alone, they just run in their little circle until the next time a human tells them what to do.”

  With heavy, clunking steps, Charity descended from the throne to the floor. Halfway down she put the crown back on her head, and those steps became dainty, while the hair she pulled back gleamed in perfect waves. She stopped at the bottom, looking Sandy straight in the eyes. “That’s what it’s all about. We’re alone here. Just you and me. That’s why I need you to leave so badly, and why I’m staying forever. When you’re gone, no one can hurt me, ever again. I can play with my toys all alone, and break the ones that I don’t like because they’re just toys.”

  Sandy took a step back from that challenging stare. “You’re crazy!”

  Charity didn’t answer that with words. She just propped a fist on her hip and gave Sandy a long, tilted, skeptical look.

  It didn’t work. Sandy’s body went tight again. She straightened up, and with bleak calm decided, “No. It’s worse than that. You’re evil, Charity, and I have to stop you.”

  Charity’s jaw clenched, then her fists. She trembled, visibly, and then yelled in scratchy, pained fury, “I thought you would be happy for me! You know what I go through back home. I’m finally happy, finally safe, and you’re throwing a fit because I’m mean to dolls!”

  She tightened her jaw again, lifting it, and a shudder ran down her purple-sheathed body. When it passed, she relaxed, all princess again. Bitter, resigned, but calm. “It doesn’t matter. I have the crown and the witch hat. The guards can’t hurt you, but they’re not useless. They can pick you up and throw you in the mirror room.”

  She gestured, and the guards that had scattered when Charity cut one in half stepped hesitantly towards Sandy.

  My heroine didn’t give them time to get their confidence and purpose back. Like Charity had, she grabbed the pole of a halberd, and yanked it out of the guard’s gauntlets. She needed both hands for that, so I crawled up onto her shoulder, and watched as she shoved the guard aside with her body. It collapsed with a crash onto the floor, but at least it did so intact.

  Point of the axe extended, Sandy stalked across the hall to the throne’s steps.

  Charity watched her approach with a quizzical expression. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

  Sandy started to run, charging toward Charity.

  The princess just sighed. “Guards, pin her down.”

  Charity looked completely unsurprised as Sandy changed course, charging past without hurting her. She looked very surprised indeed as Sandy swung the halberd, slamming its edge with all the power of her human arms against the throne. Metal banged against stone, leaving a shallow cut in the grey rock.

  The bang… didn’t stop. It kept repeating, moving around the room. Every time it got near a wall, the marble shivered. A tapestry fell as it passed. One of the pillars cracked.

  A much larger crack split open in the air in front of the throne. It reminded me of the crack in the vision of my broken eye. In the distance, people screamed.

  While everyone stared, uncertain what to do, Sandy dropped the halberd and ran for the main entrance to There. She passed the split in the air without a glance, feet moving so fast I felt like we were flying.

  Charity tore her gaze away from the crack, and glared down at Pincushion instead. “This is your fault! You should have shoved that doll into the fire like I told you to! Why didn’t I rip you into pieces when you failed me the first time!?”

  Sometime during the fuss, Pincushion had freed her hands. Shaking the bent pin in her fist, she snarled, “Because I’m the only thing smarter than a sack of wet wool that you’ll have around to talk to ever again!”

  Bending stiffly in the middle, Charity snatched the golden hat where it trailed from Pincushion’s other hand. “Give me that. This is magic, and my kingdom needs me.”

  Sandy’s sprinting feet carried us out of the throne room. We dashed through room after room, decorated with more black than on the Here side, but otherwise much the same. Out onto the steps of the palace, she slowed down just enough to skitter from one to the other down to the street.

  The screaming had stopped, but fairgoers still milled around in confusion. A lot of them on this side were peculiar bundlish, who dangerously only seemed to wear a black full body stocking with a white skeleton painted on it, and a white skull mask.

  No weird scintillating cracks hung in the air.

  I pulled myself up to Sandy’s ear, and whispered, “We can’t stop here, Miss Sandy. The guards will be coming, and Charity knows how to make them dangerous.”

  Sandy didn’t reply. She stood there, fists clenched, her body bobbing up and down as she breathed heavily. Oh, of course. Humans got tired easily.

  Oh, my. She was even trembling.

  Her mouth twisted, and her eyes glared in a tortured anger I hadn’t seen from Sandy before. Looking straight ahead, she growled, “Does she think she can stop a witch? It’s time for my first curse.”

  Twisting, she grabbed the nearest skeleton costume performer by the shoulders. Raising an arm toward the sky, she roared, “Let chaos reign!”

  He didn’t react, but down the street a skinny dargon did, pounding his drumsticks against the belly of the much fatter dargon lying in front of him on the stage. Farther along, another drummer took up the rhythm. And another. Slow. Loud. Deliberate.

  Threatening.

  In the distance, a bell rang.

  All of a sudden, everyone on the street but us tilted back their heads and shrieked, “Let chaos reign!”

  Flames whipped into the air. The skeletons went mad, throwing themselves in wild, vaulting dances. Someone knocked over a cart, and instead of complaining, the clothling inside cackled ecstatically, pointing the machine in the cart at the palace steps and peppering them with popcorn.

  Horns wailed. Guitars strummed. Voices lifted in song.

  Thou took’st the throne for thy own gain

  In ruling shown us naught but pain

  Let what thou’st sown rise, break thy chain!

  BARE TOOTH AND BONE! LET CHAOS REIGN

  Leaping into motion again, Sandy charged out to the gate leading into There. Guards stood across it, but as Sandy approached fairgoers grabbed them one by one and pulled them into the crowd. A tall marionette much like the one I’d seen juggling Here grabbed a fallen spoon. He dipped it into a barrel, and when it came out it burst into flame. Spinning it, he spun himself, whipping the burning spoon around in dizzying patterns.

  Sandy grabbed a rocking horse that was hiding behind a cloth-draped stand. As she dragged it out by its ear handle, its black eyes stopped rolling, and stared up at her instead in awe. It stood motionless as she dropped down into the saddle, and ordered, “Giddyup.”

  Screaming a whinny of savage joy, it galloped out into There’s night time forest with us on its back.

  I looked up at Sandy’s face. Her bleak expression held no fear, only determination.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The horse swung back and forth, weaving through There’s web of dark forest paths. Sandy didn’t seem to be picking any direction, and by the time I’d had any thoughts about a particular crossroad or its sign, we reached the next one. Other than the scratching of wooden rockers against the dirt, we traveled in silence.

  Silence wasn’t like Sandy. She could be quiet, yes, but her shoulders had turned tight and hard underneath me, and her face locked in a scowl. Were those tears at the edges of her eyes? In the blowing wind of our travel, I couldn’t tell.

  What could I say? Comforting Sandy was my job, and I
didn’t have the slightest idea how to break through that shell of anger. Was that cowardice? Was I afraid that she would turn even a fraction of the anger on me, which I couldn’t endure? Hmmm. Yes, the idea terrified me, but if I had a plan for something to say that I thought was more likely to help than hurt, I’d have tried it anyway.

  Still, the silence went on, in the gloomy shadows of There’s night-time forest. Dry leaves layered together into a black ceiling that hid the sky. Grey, withered trunks split off bare branches anywhere near the ground. When Sandy finally yawned, I nearly fell off her back in relief.

  “This day has had its ups and down,” Sandy said into the quiet.

  “Oh my, is that the truth!” I agreed.

  That made her smile. It wasn’t much of a smile, but it was the first since Charity stomped on that poor, poor dargon. Ugh.

  She yawned again, opening her mouth wide. “I need it to be over. Do you think we can find somewhere comfortable to sleep?”

  “Find it, and I shall take you there!” declared the rocking horse, in a much more aggressive tone than the cringing show-pony he’d been when Sandy took hold of him. And was he bigger, too? Had human magic gotten to him?

  I might just be imagining things, but it led to another and more important thought. “I’m certain you can. I’m beginning to suspect that this forest only looks like a maze. After all, there is an actual maze, meant for getting lost in. These paths are merely for looking spooky as you travel them. You’ve been trying to get away, and I would say we accomplished that admirably. If you try to go to somewhere, places to go will be more easily found.”

  That got a giggle, faint and strained, but a giggle and a smile nevertheless. “I think you overestimate what humans can do just by wanting it.” She pulled on the handles of the rocking horse, however, and it slowed down, giving us at least time to look at signs as we weaved through the forest’s branches underneath the other kind of branches. The first couple of signposts were useless, unfortunately, as their arrows had both fallen off and rotted into illegibility.