DEADLINE FOR A RAGDOLL

DEADLINE FOR A RAGDOLL

Once upon a time…and a place (They go together after all) when the world was truly alive, truly, all in color all talking alive. When you could tell your troubles to your geraniums, play go fishwith your parakeet or, share secrets with your favorite teddy bear, there lived a spunky no-nonsense lap- sized doll named McGee (she had taken her name from a box of crackers since no one—not even her ragdoll momma-- had ever given her a proper name). But McGee lived in a country that sadly wasn’t all in color. A place (aptly) known as Gray Goose Country. It was in fact quite colorless, unless you consider gray a true color. That's where this sad- to- happy meet-the-deadline story begins.

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“It’s now or never. There’s only one day left.”

McGee, with her raggedy red yarn curls, her black thread smile, and her one missing arm (chewed off hy a rambunctious Labrador puppy in a previous life), shoved her one cotton hand into her pinafore pocket and thought about the deadline. It was tomorrow or never...

McGee lived (if you could call it living) with two scruffy beady- eyed stuffed bears and a pocket-sized kewpie doll with one wobbly leg and a half-on half-off patent leather shoe that pointed backwards that made the children who came to the thrift shop laugh. McGee and the other “toys” (a word they did not appreciate) spent their days piled on top of each other inside a big wicker bin (badly in need of repair) that Mrs. Trimble, the fussbudgety shopkeeper had labeled “Specials”. It sat in the back corner of her thrift shop she called Threads, in the far end of Gray Goose Country.

Specials? The bin should have been labeled “Discards”. McGee knew there was nothing “special” about any of them. They were yesterday’s toys, plain and simple. . Discarded by children who had become bored with them after a year or two. Or shipped off to the thrift shop by parents of such petulant children. But there was something special about McGee. Even if she didn’t have a choice about how she lived, (would any self-respecting ragdoll choose a wicker bin to live in?) where she lived or who she lived with! Until recently, McGee’s mother Mimi had lived beside her, too, in the thrift shop. Until that terrible day(or night, more likely) when she had been plucked from the bin --not by a child but by one of the unseen minions of the wizard of Gray Goose Country, an indolent fool known as Izzard the Wizard who lived an indolent life in Gray Goose Castle on the hill.

Perhaps at this very moment, Mimi was propped up next to a dying potted plant or a broken toy on Izzard's windowsill. Gray Goose needed some color and Mimi-- in her lavender velveteen party dress with the puffy (slightly ripped) lace sleeves—would do just that.

Grey Goose Countryside was (just as the name implied) gray and gloomy --from its smoke-colored grass to the clouds overhead that were just giant puffs of overcast. And all the gray geese did all day was listlessly circle those clouds and those teetering castle spires. Indeed, everything in the country (including the people who lived there) seemed gray and hopeless. Except for McGee. She was on a mission to rescue her mother from Izzard the Wizard’s clutches and give him a taste of his own magic. She was prepared to do anything to find Mimi. And together, they would find their way out of Gray Goose Country, even away from the bin and thrift shop for good! But there was a deadline because tomorrow was Thursday and Thursday was the day Izzard appeared in the castle yard to practice his magic tricks.

But McGee was also a doll with a dog. Big Black Dog, a mastiff the size of a miniature pony who belonged to Mrs., Trimble (but wished he didn’t) was so big; you could hear his bellowing bark echoing in the valleys of Gray Goose. McGee could sit on his back and ride Black Dog as though he was a proper stallion. Wrapping her good arm around his neck, she would be transported in a flash to wherever she wanted to go. (Once, that is, they were both able to escape out of the back door of the shop after hours, a getaway that they had mastered by now with practice). Mrs. Trimble, (even she had gray hair and gloomy moods) would be angry if she found McGee and Black Dog missing again and would undoubtedly toss her into the “Free” basket as punishment. But what mattered now was the deadline.

McGee couldn’t wait to escape even if it was only for the night, even if she wasn’t any closer to actually finding Mimi this time. McGee had reached the end of her ragdoll rope.

Being mishandled and yanked around day after dreary day, dragged by the hair or the foot, pinched, dressed and redressed every day by nasty little girls who didn’t want her anyway because she wasn’t “new”. Enough was enough.

McGee knew that Izzard the Wizard was not the wizard he thought himself to be. Or that he thought others thought him to be. He was a sad dim-witted fool who couldn’t remember how a single basic magic trick went. In fact he only had one magic trick that he had been practicing (and getting wrong) for the past 5 years. Instead of turning a glass of water into a shimmering lake, despite all his wand waving and mumbling, all he got was a sinkhole that swallowed him up (temporarily) and instead of creating a meadow full of delicate flowers, all his mumbo jumbo created was a yard full of slimy hopping frogs. Izzard was a complete failure as a wizard so he made himself feel better by doing mean things to others--setting traps for passing strangers, pushing his servants off cliffs, snatching things that didn’t belong to him-- like unsuspecting animals, toys and other people’s mothers like Mimi. McGee had to find a way to rescue Mimi even if it meant she, McGee (and Mimi, too) would now be homeless without even a ratty bin to curl up in at night. Because what if she didn’t get there in time and Izzard (accidentally) turned her beautiful mother into a creepy lizard or a hissing scorpion?

Thursday had finally arrived and McGee and Black Dog were approaching the castle yards on a sloping colorless hillside. There was Izzard as usual outside hurling rocks at the circling geese out of boredom.

McGee had watched the wizard for weeks now. He always came to practice his so-called magic on the courtyard lawn, (since he had no friends who would spend an hour with him) carrying the Big book of Wizardly Tricks and Spells with him.

The big book lay open now on the ground while Izzard whirled and thrashed, waving his silly wand and yelling nonsense at the heavens. Nothing much ever happened (or if it did it was usually disastrous) because a spell is not a spell unless you follow the instructions to the letter.

And Izzard was nearsighted as well as mean- spirited.

This day when McGee and Black Dog arrived and took their place hiding behind the gray stone fence, Izzard was not alone. There was Mimi on a blanket with the Gray Goose seal only steps away from Izzard and his book of spells! Mimi was looking frightened and helpless, but still beautiful in her secondhand velveteen dress with the puffy sleeves.

Even in the overcast, McGee had managed to learn the steps of the spells she could read from the open pages of Izzard’s large print book of spells. By now, she could recite them with her eyes closed.

In fact, McGee had learned more than one magic trick on these days hiding behind the stone fence on the sloping hillside.

Today, the book was open to TURNING WHAT IS NEXT TO YOU INTO WHATEVER YOU WANT (barring thieves and murderers). But that isn’t the spell McGee was after.

McGee closed her eyes and said the words she remembered for the spell she had in mind , filling in the blanks with Izzard’s name in a whisper, her eyes fixed on her mother (that was part of the spell)’

Presto change!

Just as Mimi turned her head to see McGee, Izzard the Wizard vanished (as if on cue) leaving a whiff of smoke behind. The book had fallen open to

SPELL FOR TURNING A WAYWARD WIZARD INTO A FLYING GOOSE …FOR A DAY, OR TWO. McGee, clapped her hands, hugged her mother and grabbed Mimi’s hands and together they climbed onto Black Dog’s back and galloped down the hill.

McGee shook her cotton fist and yelled into the sky of circling geese (whose circle which now seemed to have been increased by one!

“You’ll be back soon. Mr. Wizard …..and maybe with a better kinder spirit than before …. And when you return, maybe Gray Goose will be a better brighter place. “

Indeed, when the Wizard returned, he found his Book of Spells open to page 4, “SPELL FOR TURNING A GRAY GLOOMY KINGDOM INTO A HAPPY COLORFUL PLACE”. There were just three easy steps on the page.

And the page was marked by a single strand of red yarn.

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