Little Plump Jo is on the Go

Little Plump Jo was taking a short vacation - a few days away from Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies, where she was the current Artisan in Residence.

Malory himself had suggested the holiday. He had another writer coming to Cloudbank Cabin for a few days in order to do a final editing of a version of the Tristan and Isolde story.

The writer was a stickler for adhering to the conventional storylines. And Malory was concerned that they would be distracted by Jo talking to herself and her internal editors, the five overexcitable Dabrowski Dogs - Intellectual, Sensual, Emotional, Psycho Motor and Imaginational and reading her chapters out loud.

Another concern was that one of Little Plump Jo’s characters had gone rogue! Elaine had refused to relive the experience of dying of unrequited love for Sir Lancelot du Lac and declared that she was now to be known as The Lady Charlotte-Elaine, Lady of Shalott and Entrepreneur owner of Charlotte’s Web Weaving. Elaine’s rebellion had caused flow on effects to other characters, even causing resetting of some character arcs and plot lines. Lancelot, for example, had reappeared in Elaine’s story not as the 42 year old famous knight, the darling of the court, who Elaine had nursed for months on end, but as an idealistic young man unsure of his identity. In an attempt to create some sense of order and predictability, Lancelot had insisted on working through his Hero’s To Do list.

While Elaine had not played a part in the Tristan and Isolde story, Lancelot had played a significant role. Malory wanted to preserve Lancelot’s tenuous grip on sanity by giving him the opportunity to work through the instances of contact with Tristan and Isolde in proper order and without the confusing influence of the new Elaine.  

So Jo was taking a railway journey, a very luxurious and expensive railway journey, which a friend had booked for her as a gift the previous Christmas.

She had a stylish spacious cabin with all the luxe extras, like a full-size ensuite, fine quality linen and expansive window views. She even received chocolates and champagne in the cabin. Meals would be served in sophisticated settings, ideal for relaxation and socialising. There would be regionally inspired meals, with food and wine of the highest standard, served for hearty breakfasts, two-course lunches and five-course dinners. Jo could choose between quiet time in her cabin or socialising in the lounge or dining carriages.

At the start of the journey Intellectual Dabrowski had been on high alert identifying the landmarks and townships they passed and supplying Jo with a running commentary about the geography, history, flora and fauna of the places.

“On either side the rail runs by

Long fields of barley and of rye!” he sang.

“Take a chill pill, Intellectual!” barked Sensual Dabrowski. “Jo, you should be just relaxing and enjoying the  view and feeling the comfort of the plush seats. Do not worry about anything. Do not overthink everything. Maybe you could even just have a pleasant doze!

The very thought of not worrying about anything made Jo think about all the things she might have forgotten to do before she left Cloudbank Cabin. Had she put out the rubbish bins? It was red lid bin week this week. Had she left a note asking the incoming author to bring the bin back in and tie it down so that the wind would not blow it into the neighbour’s garden? Yes, she did remember doing that. Would they bring the bin in and tie it down properly?

And would they keep the cabin tidy or would she return to the sort of mess she usually created when she was deeply engrossed in her writing?

And would they go poking around in her things? Jo was confident that she had put away most of her personal possessions in her bedroom and locked the door; and she had brought her laptop with her. But she had left an open top crate of folders beside the writing desk. What would they think if they started to read those printouts of her short stories, chapters and poems?

In answer  to her thoughts Imaginational Dabrowski spoke up. “What do you think is happening in Cloudbank Cabin at the moment? Lancelot will be there for his part in the Tristan and Isolde story.  Lancelot gave the lovers sanctuary from Isolde’s husband King Marc at his castle, Joyous Garde (which used to be the Dolorous Tower). And it is said by some that Queen Guinevere used to pay state visits to Joyous Garde while they were there and that she and Lancelot dot, dot, dotted!

“That author is probably describing Lancelot wrongly,” announced Intellectual. “Unless that author has their own pack of Dabrowski Dogs, Malory Tennyson will not be able to communicate with the author. They have probably given Lancelot a mane of blonde hair and green eyes, when Malory insists that he has dark eyes and coal black curls. I should be there to relay Malory’s requirements!”

“What would happen if that new author is a much better author than Little Plump Jo and Malory wants to keep them instead of her?” asked Emotional Dabrowski.

“I would not mind going to work for a better author, especially if they were more diligent about research, “ replied Intellectual. “Who votes for doing that?”

There were howls of disapproval from the other four dogs.

“NO, we are LPJ’s Dabrowski Dogs.”

“We go where she goes!”

“And we are a pack and we stick together.”

“But I am the Alpha dog and I say what we should do,” claimed Intellectual.

“Yes, but it is four to one in favour of staying with LPJ.”

“ Anyway,” said Imaginational, “I cannot foresee Malory Tennyson wanting to oust Jo from the cabin. He enjoys her writing. It gives him a laugh – like Monty Python and Spamalot. Let’s face that hurdle when and if it comes up.”

Psycho Motor Dabrowski, who usually went outside to bounce at regular intervals, was getting restless in the confines of the cabin. “Let’s go and check out the dining carriage!” he suggested.  

After lunch Jo returned to her cabin. The view through the large window was acre upon acre, mile upon mile of some sort of crop. Jo decided to download a book to her iPad.

“You can take a break from reading Arthurian literature; but do take the opportunity to read some classics,” decreed Intellectual. “You could choose Complete Works of Shakespeare, Complete Works of Dickens, War and Peace or Gone with the Wind.”

“Ooh, ooh, choose Gone with the Wind!” yelped Psycho Motor. “That might be about tornados like the film Twister.”

 Jo downloaded Gone with the Wind and read happily until she dozed off, lulled by the clacking of the train wheels and the comfort of the plush seat.

She was wakened by Imaginational saying “I have been thinking about our Elaine. She has refused to be Elaine of Astolat or The Lady of Shalott. And she is doing very well in her weaving business. But, although she says she is not going to give Lancelot a second thought, she is obviously still in love with him. And Lancelot is still not the least bit interested in her.”

“So I was thinking, maybe if she tried on a new persona she might be able to attract him. And that could save him from having an affair with Queen Guinevere and being part of the cause of the downfall of Camelot.”

*****

Several days later, back in a relatively undisturbed Cloudbank Cabin, Elaine put in an appearance wearing too much kohl and rouge and carrying a large silk fan.

“Hiiiiii! Ah do de-clare, Monsieur Doo Laque, that you just get handsomer every time ah see you! You can come and save this Southern belle in de-stress any time you like!”

Sir Lancelot du Lac looked at her, puzzled. “Who are you?”

“Why, I’m Rosebud McGuffin,” she replied batting her eyelashes and peeping coyly over the top of her fan.

Lancelot produced a long parchment scroll and searched through it, running his finger down the list. “I am sorry, there seems to be a dilemma here! I must give aid to all damsels in distress. But it does not mention Southern belles.”

Intellectual sidled up to him and said “If you don’t want to do it you just have to say…” Intellectual whispered the phrase to Lancelot, who reeled back, shocked. “I cannot say that! Even to a Frenchman, that sounds extremely rude!”

“Remember when Elaine’s father, Bernard of Astolat, instructed you to show Elaine discourtesy to break her attraction to you; and you left Astolat without saying farewell? That was not really a very good effort at discourtesy and did nothing to discourage her love at all! Well, this is a similar situation and that is what you need to say.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“If I must. Frankly, my dear I don’t give a….. No I cannot say that!  Frankly, my dear, you are not specifically mentioned on my Hero’s To Do list.”