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Chapter 1. Hole In The Wall
There was a small hole in the wall, down in the corner, where the wooden molding didn’t meet properly. Something had chewed through the wall years ago, and it had never really been covered up or sealed. In fact no one had ever even noticed it. A small dresser had been standing there for years hiding it from view, but now as the house was emptied, the hole in the wall was the only thing in the room. It was a nice hole, with an arching top, the bottom flat along the floor boards. Dark shadows beyond it hiding the secrets of what was inside.
But the movers didn’t care; their job was to move out all
the furniture. And once the room was bare save for the worn crimson carpet,
they pulled the shade down over the small window of the room to keep prying
eyes out. After the rest of the rooms on the second floor of the little house
were empty, a saleswoman moved through each room. She made sure every shade was
down, and pulled each door shut.
The only open thing in the house after they left was the
hole in the wall. A silence fell inside the house, and darkness fell outside
the little house. As the hours passed the small building shifted its aching
timbers slightly, almost as though sighing and missing what had been within its
walls. But the little hole was still there. While some may think a hole is
nothing, to some such things can be the world.
This is where our story begins. In that empty room, with the
door closed tight and the old worn shade pulled down keeping out even the small
curious eyes of the stars. As the house sighed, something within its walls
stirred. And had anyone been in that room where the little hole was, they would
not have believed their eyes. For as
midnight drew near, sounds started to pour from the little hole.
Sad forlorn music came from within the walls of the little
house; almost as though the house itself was weeping. While the music played
small things crept from within the walls and started to gather on the now empty
carpet. These things were quiet as they gathered on the carpet, until the music
stopped. Then there was a small uproar that would have woken most. But since
there were no people in the house, the things were not afraid of waking them.
You see, the hole in the wall had once been the home of a
mouse. But the mouse had turned his residence over to a small goblin before he
passed away. And as goblins go, it is unusual that one would want to live
within a house. But this little goblin was not your garden variety goblin. He
only stood 3 inches tall. This meant he was not big enough for most things
goblins are expected to do. So he took over residency in the little hole that
at the time had been behind a dresser.
Goblins, similar to the other fairy tale creatures, tend to
live a very long time. They don’t worry about dying or change, and they find
amusement in the actions of humans. This goblin was worried though. And he
stopped playing his sad music and went out of the hole to great his entourage.
His large dark eyes which could see very well in the dark, had tears in the
corners as he viewed his worried companions.
There was a small doll. She had once been quite beautiful,
and very loved by a little girl who had lived in the house many years ago. But
her small porcelain face had been cracked, and she was forced to hide. The
goblin rescued her, and she had joined him in the little hole. She had been the
first companion. Time had not been kind to her, her curls that once had been
shining gold, were now dusty and braided with cobwebs. But the goblin didn’t
care, for he could still the beauty there.
There was a small felted pony, which was missing one hoof. A
plush rabbit that was missing an eye, and a handful of plastic soldiers and
Indians that had seen better days. There were many others, and all together,
including the goblin their number was thirty. They had all joined the goblin
over the years that passed since he had taken over residency from Mr. Mouse.
The goblin smoothed his tattered coat as the toys shifted in the new
uncertainty of the empty house.
“The house has never been truly empty before.” The Goblin
finally said. His voice was low and sadness was etched into the edges of his
words. “We are here still, so it is not as empty as it could be, but it is
empty. I do not know if we will be safe without the people here in the house.”
“I don’t think we need to worry.” The doll responded, her
painted blue eyes coated with dirt, marring her vision. Some people say they
cannot see clearly a situation, the doll, certainly was having trouble seeing
things for what they were. “People are not always kind, you know.” She added,
one small porcelain hand moving to cover the crack that ran from her eye down
along her neck. “They can be careless and hurt us.”
The other toys murmured in agreement with the doll. She was
their leader whenever the goblin was away. But he was not happy with their
quickness to judge their circumstances.
“This is not Toyland.” He said bitterly. “We are not safe
without people here. Humans tend to tear down old houses when there is no one
living in them any longer.” He crosses his skinny arms, long fingers tapping
his elbows agitatedly as he waited for the meaning of his words to become
realized by the toys.
The toys all shifted anxiously. They had not thought about
the possibility that the little house which was their sanctuary might be
destroyed. People are after all, as they all knew from experience, fickle
things. They will love you until you are broken or hurt, and then they will
throw you aside. The toys had never
thought about people doing such things with houses. A cry of distress came from
the felted pony, and soon moved through the other toys, many of whom fell over.
“What are we to do? I don’t know if any of us could make it
to Toyland in the state that we are in!” The pony shifted, limping some. “Even
if we tried, we might be taken up as refuse, and thrown away into oblivion.” He
shifted shaking his half bare mane worriedly, the thin tail behind him
swishing.
“I said nothing about going to Toyland yet.” The goblin
interrupted, a hand moving to rake through his thick yarn like hair. He usually
kept it tied up in some fashion, but today it was loose. He had been watching
through cracks in the walls as the movers had worked during the day. “I have
heard tell of a toy doctor.” He offered the words quietly, large round eyes
watching the crowd to see how they reacted.
“Toy Doctors are nothing but children! And children are more
likely to break us than fix us!” The Doll retorted.
“I think you could be wrong Mabel. This person is a grownup.
She mends toys, and repairs them. I have heard from some that she helps find
homes for homeless toys once they’ve been repaired.” His words were measured
and he took a step back as a murmur started going through the toys.
“I could help each of you get to her. That is if it is what
you wish.” The goblin shifted almost anxiously, his bare feet shifting through
the carpet.
The toys discussed the information amongst themselves. Many
of them were very worried about the idea. Change was not something some of them
were certain about. Many of them were under the impression they could never be
repaired. But finally Mabel came forward.
“If you really believe that there is such thing as a toy
doctor, I will volunteer to go to her first. As I have been with you the
longest, it is in good will that I volunteer.” Mabel sighed, a small cloud of
dust moving from within her as she did so. “But you will promise to take care
of all the others, and pass them information as we go.”
The goblin nodded. “I agree to the terms. But you all will
need to be prepared for the journey. Leaving our home is not going to be an
easy task.” He paused, tucking his hands into his pockets as he leaned down to
look at the worn carpet intently. “Those that would rather be moved to Toyland,
I will gladly aid you in that endeavor as well.”
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