Chapter 1
It’s never the end.
Until it is.
You’ll know it when you land on your head.
Well that’s my story.
It all started as I was pushed closer and closer to the edge,
further and further away from my
warm, soft lived-in space between Freddie and Pippy,
until I could no longer hold on and I
tumbled, helplessly and hopelessly down,
down the dark side of the bed, and
landed as I said on my head.
BUMP!!!
“Helllppp!” my voice sounded small under here.
As I turned the right side up,
a memory fluttered, I remembered a missing mouse….
Christmas Mouse!! and Tiny Dog!!
I watched them walk towards me,
they had been missing for so many sleeps, I couldn’t even count.
It seemed the girl had forgotten about them, would she remember me?
Would she even notice I was missing? Lost?
A silly sadness spread in my tummy.
“Youuu should be pleased you’re not in this pile,” came a long slow voice.
Big Sloth was sat up amongst mismatched socks,
broken colouring pencils, squished box jigsaws, a spinning top that could
no longer spin, and Dotty!! the blue spotty blankie, that the girl had carried everywhere.
“What is that pile?” I asked walking towards it, I could also see Ladybird with
one antennae. She hadn’t been missed either.
“This pile is every teddy and dolls’ worst nightmare,” Big Sloth hung his head
with a long drawn out sigh, “This is the CHARITYSHOP pile.”
“CHARITYSHOP?”
I spied a vast quantity of books strewn amidst the pile,
some I fondly remembered the girl reading aloud to us.
“When the child has too many things and MESSY has happened, mama
asks her to put at least ten things into the CHARITYSHOP pile.” He smiled a
small smile.
“And now this is no secret anymore we are invisible to the eye.” A louder voice
walked towards us. It was Milton!! He had been a favourite long ago when the girl
was small.
Until he had become lost.
Forgotten.
He held out his tattered paw to me, “My dear Hollyhop, how wonderful, let us
cling to all the sweet memories we have so we can continue our journey wherever
it may lead and become the author of our own stories.” He held out his arms as,
Ladybird with one antennae, Rubyroo, Big Sloth, Tiny Dog and Christmas Mouse
all came in to make a bittersweet embrace of old friends.
The bookcase lights twinkled merrily overhead as if nothing had changed.
I closed my eyes and remembered when I had first seen her.
That smile, crooked but luminous,
curious eyes that glimmered
with tenderness and
melancholy.
Suddenly the door was pushed open.
We fell where we stood.
It was Mama!.
She had a large black sack in her hand and she looked annoyed.
Scooping up Ladybird with one antennae, Big Sloth, Milton and Rubyroo,
her attention rested on me. She made a questioning face, shrugged and
threw me into the black sack on top of Dotty the blue spotty blankie.
Over-loved books, squished-box jigsaws with missing pieces, broken crayons and all kinds of other unwanted things were also thrown in.
Chapter 2
I awoke with a jolt as the sack landed with a thud!.
A jingle-jangle sound could be heard and some hushed voices.
I peeped out of a tear in the sack and I could see…
rows and rows of shelves.
They were filled with all kinds of oddities!
Tea-towels, eggcups, silky
looking scarves, tiny silver tins with engravings, wonderful coloured
balls of wool, old candelabra’s, odd doll’s house furniture,
and so many books!!
Books were piled high everywhere!.
As I looked further on,
I saw them….
All sizes, all styles, a myriad of colours,
a raggle-taggle of paws, arms,
tails, legs and noses.
Some were missing an eye, some a hat or a dress, or a bowtie,
some with so many stitches that held them from falling apart.
Crocheted patchwork monkeys,
babyfaced puppies, woolly-haired ragdolls, pea-green dragons,
black-eyed pandas, mangy-maned lions,
flopsy-eared rabbits, wooden peg dolls, tiny plastic ducks, and SO many bears were there!
So many lopsided smiles and eyes that have cried.
As I gazed over at the shelves heaving with all these lost and unwanted toys,
my heart sank further
and further.
A sing song voice followed by a white-haired lady came into the room.
She began taking things out of the black sack.
“O bother and blast!” she exclaimed. “I’m
getting too old for this!” she carried Dotty the blue spotty blankie along with some other unwanted clothes over to a basket near the window. She continued emptying the sack, carrying the books over to other larger stacks of books, piled all around.
Then she carried Ladybird with one-antennae, Big Sloth, Rubyroo, Milton and the others over to a small table.
She sighed and held her back. “Too old, just too old for this…!” Grabbing the sack she tipped it upside down and out toppled a few tattered books, broken pencil crayons,
and me.
“My, O, My!” she gasped as she picked me up
and held me. I could see soft hazel eyes behind glasses and white-flecked hair. There was a scent of violets.
“What a little beauty you are! Why you look like…no..it just can’t be,” she smiled to herself. “My Katie, you look like a doll I had when I was a girl. She was a baby doll too and I….lost her in…we never..” She turned quickly as a younger brown haired lady came into the room.
“Sylvia, have you finished all the repairs from yesterday?” her voice wasn’t warm or kind. She looked over at me unpleasantly.
“If you are you are behind again, please let me know!” she sighed deeply and left.
The white-haired lady carried me over to a long, high table and gently placed me down.
She turned towards a basket of clothing.
I peeped over to see a rainbow of coloured cloth, jars filled with beads, shiny glass eyes,
spools of cotton, colourful buttons,
stuffing that looked like fluffy clouds, sharp pointy knitting needles and so many other odds and ends.
She cane back to me humming and holding a red and white spotty dress with a lace collar.
“This is a pretty little dress for a pretty little doll.” She began putting the dress on me, and then she brushed the knots out of what remained of my hair with a porcelain hairbrush, all the while she hummed something that I faintly remembered. She held me up to examine me.
“Wonderful, just like my Katie.” Her voice quivered and I could see that look in her eye. The look my girl had. That special look.
Chapter 3
The jingle-jangle noise sounded again and more voices could be heard. Small excited ones and older louder ones.
“Sylvia dear!” came a shout from the other room, “Shops open!”
I was carried through the shop, past so many shelves over-flowing with….
antique-looking clocks,
gravy jugs commemorating long gone jubilees, hats in all sizes and styles, chipped china tea-sets, separated porcelain ornaments, and piles and piles of BOOKS!
Books about hungry caterpillars, bears called Sebastian, wardrobes and lions, mysteries about islands and castles and long tea parties with grinning cheshire cats.
I fondly remembered some of the books the girl had read aloud to us in the room.
As we hurried past the older books section, I glimpsed a bear in a waistcoat sat on the shelves. He was nestled in between Proust and Tolkien. He had an air of belonging and small purple glasses.
We finally arrived at an alcove window area. The violet-scented lady reached over an ornate wizards chess set and placed me on a shelf. She then hurried over to the area surrounded with a small queue of people.
I looked around and saw a beautiful faberge egg, a set of tin soldiers and a leather bound old burgundy book.
An elegant boot dangled down from the shelf above me.
It was a laced up brown boot.
And then….
an exquisite pillarbox-red haired porcelain face peered at me.
“Well hello dahhlliinnkk…” she seemed to purr “Name’s Hedy, what’s yours? And what may I ask are you doing in the collector’s section?” she screwed up her pretty nose.
“I’m ummm I’m Hollyhop,” I stammered
“It’s nice to meet you too.” my voice wobbled.
“O Holly….Hop? What type of name is that? Is it theatrical?” she ruffled her beautiful hair and blinked. “Are you a dancer or an opera singer?”
“O no no!” I squeaked “It’s a mistake I’m even here, you see I belong to a girl and and…” I swallowed hard as tears were swimming around in my eyes. “I accidentally fell into the CHARITYSHOP pile.”
“Dahhlliinnkk, it’s never an accident, when the bothersome brats have done their worst with us and we are discarded like everyday garbage into black sacks.” She sniffled and placed her hand dramatically on her forehead. “When I first saw Maestro, everything was perfect. He was new to the Opera Populaire. My place in the treasured cabinet alongside the other trophies and medal’s had been established long ago. My happiest times were when he would take me out of the cabinet and sing to me. ‘La donne e mobile, Qual piuma al vento’. " A somber look shadowed her eyes. “Until of course he met that dancer! That Violetta!.” Her eyes now blazed.
“Besotted with her instead of me!” she lowered her head.
“He eventually gave me to the little fat-fingered child they had and the rest, well,” she rolled her eyes “the rest shall we say is hisstory!.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a wicker basket on the floor near the books. Just peeping out of the basket I could make out a faded-grey paw, that looked like it belonged to…Rubyroo!
I tried to wave in the hope that Rubyroo would see me.
“Darrlliinnkk! NO! Don’t even attempt to make contact with those lowly things,” she wrinkled her nose, “they are in the REJECT- BASKET for a reason!”
“REJECT-BASKET?” I asked putting my arm down.
“It is the lowliest of the low, the most tattiest, unfixable ,
unlovable creatures are thrown in there.” She smiled slyly.
A flutter of hopelessness flitted.
“And they usually end up in the….”
Chapter 4
A breathless jumping interrupted before Hedy could continue.
“Mummmmeeee…..” a small voice squealed.
“I want this one, give it to me…this one is miiinnneee…!” I looked down to see a small child with pigtails pointing up at me. She was hopping up and down.
“Pweeeaseee I need her mummeee!” she jumped a little higher, knocking over a beautiful Russian doll. She carried on wailing and pointing.
Her mother came over slowly holding a silky scarf. “Jemima dear what do you want now?”
She looked over at the shelf that the girl was pointing at and widened her eyes in mock-shock as she lifted me down. She briefly gazed at me then handed me to the eager child. “She hasn’t much hair darling and look at her ordinary baby face!” She was looking at the shelf above mine, “This one however,” she gently carried Hedy down from her shelf. “This one is exquisite…O my, she looks just like a doll I had when I was a girl, what a rare beauty.” She stroked Hedy’s curls. She had that look in her eyes. That special look.
“But mummeeee! I don’t want the wed-hair dolly, I want this one!” The girl stamped her foot and made a sulky face.
“Sweetheart, why don’t we go and look for that book you wanted. The one with the pea in the bed and the princess? You always love that one.” The mother placed Hedy back and walked over to the books.
The girl decided she did want
The Princess and the Pea
and not me.
She ran over to the books after her mother.
Noticing I was still in her hands, she dropped me face down in the wicker basket.
“O NO!”
Sadness stung my eyes.
“Try to slide,” came a long-slow voice, “If you can squeeze further downer the basket you might be able to avoid a sad ending.” It was Big Sloths’ warm voice breathing up at me. I could see the black and red spots of Ladybird with one-antenna and under my hand I felt the faded-grey fur of Rubyroo’s ear.
A flutter of small and louder voices were close to us. Fingers prodded and turned, rustling us all about, finally I was the right way up.
“Grampy, this one is just like blue bunny.” a small boy held up Rubyroo. “Can I have it please?.”
The grandfather was smiling as he also reached into the basket and plucked out Milton. The grandfather had a floppy hat and a white beard. He smiled wistfully as he brought Milton close to his face. He seemed to breathe him in whispering almost to himself. “cherished reminscences.”
“Grampy,” the boy tugged the grandfather’s sleeve, “Do you want a teddy too?” he looked at his grandfather clutching Milton.
“O Charlie,” the grandfather smiled ruefully placing Milton carefully back into the basket.” I once had a bear that looked just like him when I was a tiddler just like you,” he touched his beard and continued, “I lost him on a train…and never did see him again…and we…” a choked sound came out of his mouth, “I suppose you never really forget your favourite toy.”
The small boy and his grandfather walked away with Rubyroo.
Comments