OXFORDSHIRE ENGLAND, 2010
As my aunt, Ivana was still lost in her latest project, so I was able to scarper from the cottage with a pocket full of buttered bread in a napkin, a bottle of spiced wine, and one of my aunt’s wands that I had snaked from behind her back. I didn’t know much about wands; they all seemed the same to me.
I hoofed it back to Molly’s cage to find her languishing in the evening. At least it had cooled down, and the sun was less apt to scorch her exposed skin. She was quite red from it already.
“Pass us up the wand, then.” Molly stuck her hand out and wiggled and stretched her fingers towards it. She pointed the wand at the lock and spoke strange words, but nothing happened. She tried several times before the locks popped off, and she tumbled to the stone walkway of the bridge with a thud and a groan.
Molly stood up, plump and nude and danced around me as happy as a jaybird. “That was a fine rescue, Bikky. Indeed it was. Let’s get off the bridge then.”
Molly started for the small forest past the bridge, but I remained frozen, unsure how to proceed. My pockets were stuffed with the goods I’d promised.
“Whatsa matter Bikky?”
“I’m not allowed to go past the bridge.”
“Alone, you mean, without adult supervision, but seein’ as I’m no stranger and capable of being responsible, then it seems to me it’s allowed.”
I couldn’t argue with her reasoning. She was my friend, after all, and much older and wiser. And I did really want to learn magic, and well, I had brought the victuals and wine all this way, and it would be such a shame that she couldn’t enjoy them. So off we trotted into the woods until we happened on a broken down bit of barn that was overgrown deep among the alders and shrubbery, some half a kilometre from the pollards that lined the river. Here the vegetation was thick, and we were well concealed.
Molly the Dolly decided against making a fire, as the evening was quite warm, and she sat down, took the buttered bread wrapped in a napkin and chomped it with her broad grin. She ate it as if it were really the best meal she’d ever had, and this pleased me an awful lot because I could see the joy in her eyes, and it was very nice to be the source of someone’s happiness instead of their frustration and disgust.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“That was a goodun Bikky, tasty indeed,” she said as she swigged the wine.
“Why do they call you Molly the Dolly?”
Molly thought for a moment. “Not sure as I should be sayin’ such to a youngin like yourself. It’s on account of me workin’ in a Dolly House.”
“A Dolly House?”
“Ay, s’not a place for any gentlehoof such as you, though. Or any for that matter.”
“Is that why they put you in the cage?”
“Nah, it was a proper misunderstanding, really. Let me tell you this, Bikky, not that you should, but when you’re older. If you find yourself in a Dolly House, you treat the gels with respect, and you make it worth their time is all. Treat a Dolly square, and you’ll get the best of her every time. Not that you’ll be doing that. I expect something great from someone as kind as you!” Molly reached out and pinched my cheek, and I didn’t mind it at all because she was grinning as she did it. Her eyes were very wide, and they looked like they could see everything.
I sat on a log and picked at a grasshopper that had tangled up in the fur of my leg. “You afraid they’ll put you back in the cage any?”
“Nah, I won’t be staying about Bikky. I know magic, and I’m gonna turn myself into a sparrow and head down to France with the Peregrines.”
“Whatsa Peregrine?”
“Oh, lovely people. See, they’s all sorcerers, and they speak the language of the birds as I can. Oh, they’re rich and smart and they know all about magic. When I get there, they’ll welcome me in like one of their own, and I’ll never have to work no more in Dolly Houses.”
I sat with my elbows on my knees and my chin planted firmly in my palms. “You can talk to birds?”
“Course I can, they whisper things to me all the time. And I can turn meself into a bird. If I can find the right wand for it.”
“You think I could do that? And come with you to France?”
“Course Bikky, we’re friends, aren’t we? And friends stick together. I’ll teach you to transfigure into a bird, and we’ll fly down to France together. And drink wine and eat fine food and wear the nicest clothes. And you’ll be a proper young man, and never want for a Dolly House, as all the ladies’ll say - ‘ooh, what a fine figure that gentlehoof cuts’.” With that, she pinched the chubby area of my waist and tickled me. I laughed and it was very good fun.
Molly showed me how to transfigure into a bird using the wand I had taken from my aunt, and even though she taught me the magic words sparricus farricus, they didn’t seem to work for either of us and we resolved that this must not be the right kind of wand. I left her that evening with the plan that I would look through my aunt’s wands and find a better one. Though I didn’t have any idea what would make it better, or even how they worked.