Pretty sure I have the right prompt today. If I haven’t, enjoy this little tale anyway.
‘All you had to do, Lion, was growl.’ Dotty bent over Lion, slumped on the bed. Behind her, scattered toys and books remained as relics of the battle she’d had to conduct all on her own.
‘You’re a big coward, Lion.’ Dotty screwed up her face and glared with slitted eyes, arms folded across her chest. ‘How could you leave me to face that … that …alone.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Instead she shuddered, like she’d seen her mother shudder when faced with the same eight-legged horror.
Lion’s head stuck to his chest. In shame, Dotty hoped. But shame wasn’t enough.
‘It’s not the first time, is it now, Lion?’ She unfolded her arms to wag a stubby, crayon-streaked finger at him. ‘There was the time the Boy came and wouldn’t play properly, and did you stick up for me then?’ She huffed, like Mother huffed.
‘Nothing to say?’ Dotty poked Lion in the shoulder. Slowly, his great body fell forward, whiskers plunging into the flowered quilt.
‘Well then, it’s time you learned what lions are supposed to do.’ Dotty grabbed the shamefaced Lion by the arm and dragged him from the bed. He was nearly as big as she was, bulky and awkward. She wriggled him into place behind her, and hauled him down the hall, through the front door and out onto the track which ran past the farmhouse.
‘Come on, Lion.’ Dotty began her march up the sand-yellow track. ‘I know where we can get you some courage.’ She hoisted him up briefly, let him fall again, and strode on. ‘We just have to find a wizard.’
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She can’t have been more than four or five. Yet, there she was struggling along the dirt track dragging the toy lion behind her.
I quickly caught up to her on my pushbike.
“”Scuse me, little girl, but just where do you think you are going?”
The little girl stopped and looked at me, her face angry.
“None of your business, mister,” she replied. “But if you must know, I’m leaving home.”
I hid a smile.
“And just where do you live?” I asked.
“Down there.” She pointed to a house several hundred yards away.
“Don’t suppose you want to tell me why you are leaving home,” I said, thinking that she might become less angry the more we talked.
“Cos my mum wants to take Leo and throw him in the bin.” Tears were beginning to well.
“Leo? Is that the name of your toy lion?” I asked, pointing.
“Y..yes, and Mum’s just being mean.”
“No doubt,” I agreed. “But did you do something to make Mum want to throw him in the bin?”
“No,” she wailed. “All I said was if you cook vegetables for dinner, I won’t eat them no matter what you make me do.
“And so, Mum said she’d throw Leo in the bin if I didn’t.”
“So, what did you do?” I asked, knowing full well what she was about to say.
“I went to my bedroom and got Leo – and now I am running away.” She was sobbing now.
“Have you any idea where you might go?” I inquired, trying not to laugh.
“Y..y..yes,” she said. “Mrs Tripp.”
“Whose she?”
“My kindergarten teacher.”
“And where does she live?”
“Not that house, but the next one.”
“I see,” I said. “Would you like me to accompany you while you walk there?”
The little girl looked a little apprehensive.
“I don’t know you, mister,” she replied. “What if you try to kidnap me, or something?”
“I promise I won’t do that,” I said, laughing. “You see, I’m Mr Tripp – and I’m sure we can sort all this out with your Mum.”
Her apprehension came a bit late! But vegetables -oh dear! LOL
Very funny. The thought of, I presume, a little five or six-year-old girl trying to instill courage into her stuffed toy lion is very novel. And as for looking for a wizard…
Novel? Ha ha – totally stolen from the Wizard of Oz. The first clue is in the girl’s name 😀 Perhaps I should have added in a pair of red shoes!