River Deep, Mountain High

The doll was old. Very old.

From the looks of her, she was held together by “toy magic”. There were a few wisps of string where her hair had once been. The fabric of the body had a sheen to it. It felt smooth and thick to the touch, and very fragile. The clothes were newer, though by no means “new”. I had to wonder just how this doll was to guide and advise me, when she looked like a change of weather might disintegrate her.

As I held her at eye level studying her carefully, she raised her hand and squeezed my nose.

“Beep.”

Needless to say, I was not expecting that, and I think it was perfectly understandable that I dropped the little creature.

“Did you just say ‘beep’”, I asked inching backward?

It, I mean, she, sat up and looked up at me blinking her wide eyes at me. I regarded her, and she, me. Her eyes suddenly seemed to crinkle up and she flung herself backward onto the ground giggling uncontrollably. Her laughter was clear and high and full of delight.

She sat up, legs splayed before her looking up at me.

“You is so scared” she exclaimed with glee. “I’s thought your eyeballs go pop!” With that statement she returned to her giggling fit.

I sank to my haunches with a sigh as the doll got up and ran rings around me chanting “pop, pop, pop,” repeatedly. What were the words of the Enchantress? Oh yes,” if we should lose our way, or be in need of help, all we have to do is ask the doll what to do. She says that the doll will assist, that we must keep her with us at all times.” Oh yea! I wrapped my pity blanket around myself and felt that this was inevitable.

This is my guide through an enchanted land, and she is broken.