h2>Dating : Frankenstein’s Doll
An ordinary Mum decided to take a walk to the shop for the usual essentials. If a passerby had seen her, they would have thought that she was being pursued by someone. Instead of seeing someone though, they would have heard a noise coming from a nearby kitchen window.
Shrill inaudible demands followed by clanging trailed the air behind the ordinary Mum. Was it coming from that house by the cherry tree?
The passers by would have shrugged and carried on, whilst the ordinary Mum continued swiftly up the street until she turned the corner and was out of sight (and earshot.)
***
“Why would I hide anything in there?” said Pete, rolling his eyes.
Maisy poked her head out of the kitchen cupboard.
“Who knows, maybe you think it’s the last place I’d look… well it isn’t, so there. Now give me back my doll!”
Pete shrugged.
“Give it back!” Maisy yelled.
“Aren’t you a bit old to be playing with dolls?”
“What?” Answered Maisy, taken aback.
She pursed her lips and stared at him for a second, then she stormed past Pete into the living room towards the stairs.
“Don’t you have your favourite train set, set up in your room upstairs, right now? You’re much older than me and you’re still playing with toys, huh?” said Maisy as slowly took a couple of steps to point out where she is heading.
“It will be such a shame if it disappeared…”
“OK, OK, I’ve got your doll down here.” said Pete through gritted teeth.
He walked back into the kitchen and Maisy heard a cupboard door open. A few seconds later, Pete came back with the doll in hand.
It must have been in one of the higher cupboards I couldn’t reach…
There she was, the wooden doll carved by their grandfather. Although she was ‘odd’ looking (for not everyone is a perfect woodworker) because she had crooked eyes and irregular shaped limbs — actually it looked more like Frankenstein’s monster than a Barbie doll — she wore the most magnificent dress in violent pink.
“Oh thank goodness, you’ve still got her in her beautiful dress.”
“Sister, sister, sister, what do you take me for? We’ve only been on one date.”
“What?”
“Oh nevermind.” said Pete and outstretched his hand to give Maisy her doll. “Here she is.”
…
“Take it then” said Pete as he dangled the doll out of reach.
Maisy tried to jump to grab the doll, then swerved to the right, then left whilst trying to keep up with Pete’s movements.
“Ouch!” yelled Pete.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maisy noticed a blur of pink scurry across the floor and disappear into the kitchen.
Pete stared at his hand, mortified.
“She bit me!”
“What…?”
“Look at my hand. Your doll just bit me!” shrieked Pete.
“That’s ridiculous.” said Maisy, taking a step towards the kitchen. “She’s never bitten me before.”
“Oh yeah, that’s the ridiculous bit.” mumbled Pete tending to his wound.
Maisy crept into the kitchen.
“Hello?”
“No, I’m not talking. You’ve both been very nasty.” replied a stubborn and deep voice.
“Oh! It speaks, and your voice…” remarked Maisy.
“And what’s wrong with my voice?” asked the doll haughtily.
“Not what I expected from a pretty doll with a pink dress, that’s all.”
“Please don’t take offence.” added Maisy quickly.
“Well don’t expect three wishes from me neither. I’m no genie.”
“You’re not a genie, you’re a monster!” exclaimed Pete, poking his head into the kitchen and retreating again.
“That thing nearly ripped by dress” said the doll to Maisy and pointed towards the living room. “So, I ask you, who’s the monster here?”
“He’s really sorry Ms. I mean Mr, I mean ??”
“Just Queen will do, child.” replied the doll.
Maisy was sure that if it had eyes they would have rolled in their sockets just then.
“Ooo, does that mean you’re royalty?”
“I’m certainly royally doomed with you two for guardians. But no, I’m not a Queen and not the Queen but just, Queen.”
Finally Pete stepped in with folded arms and a puzzled look.
“Utter nonsense.” he said.
“I usually do but not this time.”
***
A ruckus came from the kitchen window as plates were smashed and pots and pans toppled over. A whirl of two figures could be seen chasing something small; a pink speck hopped from one cupboard to the next. It flung itself from one handle and then another. The acrobatics would have made a great show in a circus, although probably without the two extras following it with a bowl and a strainer.
Ooof. A pink doll came flying from the kitchen window and fell with a thud onto the grass and blossoms below. It stood up in annoyance and rubbed the pink lace clean.
“Quick, it’s getting away.” Pete’s voice was heard from the window.
Two children rushed out of the front door and ran around the corner towards where they thought the doll would be.
“Where is she?” murmured Maisy. “Oh, this is no use.”
She dropped the bowl she was holding on to the floor as Pete looked around and noticed the neighbours dog under the cherry tree. It looked like he was chewing something. Pink blossoms were everywhere.
“Oh no, oh no… no no no. TIMMY NO!” Pete was shouting, running towards the dog, strainer in hand.
“Shoo.” said Maisy and started after her brother. “Bad dog” she continued in a motherly tone.
The dog ran off in confusion and irritation. Although he very much enjoyed playing with his new toy, he didn’t fancy picking a fight with a metal thing with holes today.
“Aww you poor thing” said Maisy.
She picked up the doll. It was crying.
“You poor poor thing.” repeated Maisy.
“Are you OK Just Queen?” Asked Pete.
The doll stopped crying and looked up at Pete, then started laughing. It turned into a laughing-sob.
Pete turned quizzically to his sister. He raised his eyebrow as the laughing didn’t stop.
“You know Mum’s sewing box on her table upstairs? Can you grab me a needle and pink thread please?” said Maisy. “Comon now, quickly.”
Pete ran off, into the house. It occurred to Maisy, as she looked from the doll, (it stopped crying,) to the house, that she couldn’t remember when he ever followed her orders before.
He burst out of the front door, a pink trail blew behind him in the wind as he made his way towards the tree. As he handed over the needle and thread he bent over his knees, panting.
Maisy used her well practiced stitch she had taught herself a few weeks before (when her and Pete accidently ripped the curtains fighting for the remote), to quickly fix up the lace on the doll’s dress.
“Thank you children.” said the doll, looking up at them both.
For a while, they sat there, under the tree. The wind blew comfortingly and pink blossoms lapped at their feet like waves.
“Where did you get this doll anyway?” asked Pete.
“Grandpa made it. He did say it was magical, I just thought it was… well, a kids tale.”
***
An ordinary Mum made her way home from the shops. If a passerby had seen her, they would have thought this ordinary Mum was being forced to come back because she was taking one step for their three. When the ordinary Mum finally reached the cherry tree she paused at the scene in front of her. The passerby didn’t see the rest because they passed by before anything else happened.
