Tatty's Troubles...part two

The storm raged around me until I lost all sense of time. The loud rumbling went on and on. So did the hail, lightning, and thunder. Wind howled. Rain dripped down the chimney and puddled on the fireplace floor. Something crashed outside, shaking the little cabin.

Oh, how I wished I had stayed tucked safely on the shelf in my new owners home. My arms and legs quivered from cold and fear. My head ached from all the noise. I sat, huddled in my musty, tattered, piece of quilt.

How long the storm lasted I could not know. Finally the train faded into the distance then grew quiet. The hail stopped beating the little cabin. The thunder stopped clapping, grumbling like a disgruntled man instead. Lightning still flashed but it, too, was less intense.

I breathed deeply, glad to be through the worst of the storm. The wind and rain continued but even they were less intense than they had been. The flashing of the lightning came less often, leaving the cabin in total darkness between flashes.

There wasn't enough light left to gather more wood so I couldn't feed the fire. The flames grew smaller and smaller until there was nothing but red embers left. In time, those too, faded away, dying out and leaving nothing but cold in their wake.

I passed the night there, dozing when I could, waiting and watching when I couldn't. Sometime during the long, cold night, the storm blew out and left an eerie silence in its wake. It was a long wait for the sun to finally rise.

Stiff and sore from sitting so long in one place, I rose to my feet, clutching my quilt close. My dress was wetter now than it had been when I had taken shelter in the cabin. Too many holes in the walls and too many leaks in the roof had kept it from drying.

Not willing to put the dress on until I had to, I tugged the quilt piece tighter around me and gathered little sticks to add to the fire. They were no help though because there were no embers left and the sticks were too damp to rub together to get a new fire started.

It was no use. I wasn't going to be able to get another fire going and I wasn't going to be able to dry out my dress. With great reluctance I let the quilt fall to the floor and pulled the wet, soggy dress over my head. It wouldn't do for my owner to see me without the clothes she had put on me.

The material clung to my body, hugging me close in a most unsettling way. I hadn't much cared for the fussy looking dress when my owner had put it on me but I liked it even less now. It was icy cold and added to the shivers that had plagued me since I had been caught in the rain the day before.

With a last look around the little cabin I stepped through the doorway and into the woods that had changed greatly in the wrath of the storm. Branches and limbs littered the muddy ground. Puddles stood in every dip in the dirt. Trees were broken, a few hanging precariously, threatening to fall or topple at any moment.

The gray sky and hazy sunlight did little to make the woods any more inviting. I stood on what was left of the old porch, not certain I would be able to find my way home again. Everything looked different. The leaves I had been exploring the day before still littered the ground but now they were all wet and muddy. The trees were still there but now they, too, looked different. Even if I could find my way back the way I had come, would I be able to climb over the toppled trees if I needed to?

Well, there was nothing to do but try. With a shrug, I made my way across the hole ridden porch and started the long climb down the steps. Jagged wood stood where steps had once been, leaving me nothing but a dangerous descent to the sodden ground.

I had to lay on my belly and scoot backwards until my legs dangled into thin air. I wiggled and squirmed trying to reach solid footing but could find nothing. There was only thin air. I tried to pull myself back up but my wooden arms were not the best at doing anything. Why hadn't my carver given me elbows.

I reminded myself that it really wasn't that far to the ground and the mud made great cushioning, besides wooden dolls didn't break easily, we were as strong as trees. I tried one last time to find a perch for my feet. Failing to find anything, I took a deep breath and let go.

My stomach shot straight into my throat. Air rushed past me. I tumbled head over toes. Once. Twice. The ground came up to meet me. I landed on my side with a string jarring thud that made the world around me blur.

I lay there, still, waiting. I ached to my very center but there were no sharp pains anywhere so my wood must have held fast.

My bare feet sank into the mud as I pushed myself up until I was upright and ready to continue on my way. Mud had been a new experience yesterday when the rain came. Having experienced it once though the sucking, squishing, feeling that tugged at my feet with each step was no surprise. '

I looked up at the sun, barely peeking through gray clouds. It would have been nice if it had been a bright sunny day. Instead it looked as if another storm was on its way. Not wanting to get caught by bad weather a second time, I hurried on my way.

I made my way toward what I hoped was the way I had come the day before, dodging sticks and limbs, climbing under branches, going around puddles. It was a long walk. Cold air kept me company with every step.

I knew little about tornadoes, only what my carver had told me, but I had little doubt that one had blown through the woods during the night. Pioneer Forest looked as though some giant had stomped through it, tossing trees as it went.

One foot, two feet. One in front of the other. I kept going, hoping I was going the right way, until I came to a large tree that blocked the entire path. From where I stood it appeared to be twenty dolls high and five hundred dolls long. There wasn't going to be any way around this thing without going well out of my way.

I tipped my head back, studying the rough brownish-gray bark. It had little lines in it that looked just right for my feet. If I was very careful I should be able to climb right over the tree.

I grabbed the closest little notch of bark and began to climb. It wasn't as easy as it had looked but it wasn't too hard either. The tree bowed out making it feel as if I was going to tumble off backward. I clutched harder and kept going, wishing I had been made with fingers instead of a thumb and a clump where fingers should have been.

Hadn't my carver thought I might need fingers for climbing?

Hand over hand, foot by foot, I scaled the tree trunk. Huffing and puffing, I finally reached the top. My heart leaped. Just ahead was my home. It wasn't much bigger than the little cabin and I couldn't say it was much fancier, but it was home. The only thing lying between me and it was a lot more torn up forest and a mud puddle too big to walk around.

Nothing to it.

I sank into a sitting position and slowly slid over the side of the tree. At least I tried to slide slowly. That was my intention but there was no sliding on the curved tree. I had to inch my way over the edge until-

I dropped right off the side. Down, down, I fell. I rolled in the air. Right side up. Left side up. I twisted and tumbled.

Thud.

I hit the ground head first. Dazed, I lay there, staring up at tree branches and a gray sky. It did not appear that I was very good at getting down from anything. Three times I had tried to get down, and three times I had fallen into a heap. And that was if I didn't count the drop from the porch on my home. I hadn't fallen that time, not exactly. I had just sort of...jumped.

Oh well. Falling did not appear to be too dangerous to small dolls and it did seem as if it might be the quickest way down.

I picked myself up, rubbed at the mud caking my dress and continued on my way. It was easy going until I came to the mud puddle. Thick mud and pools of water blocked the entire path. I stepped into the dark goo and took small steps. My feet slid a bit but I managed to stay upright.

Step by step I inched my way across the mud, tugging hard when my feet sank too deeply. The pools of water were the easiest to avoid, I just skirted them, but the mud was the worst close to them.

It was with great relief that I finally reached the other side. Tugging my feet free of the mud, I stepped onto solid ground, now able to see my home clearly. No longer did the forest separate me from the house.

My legs ached with all the effort it had taken to get this far but my heart sang with happiness at the sight of home. I hurried as fast as my wooden legs, without knees, would move. I wish I could say my running was graceful and befitting of a tiny doll but I looked more like a disjointed, mini lumberjack, lumbering along with two broken legs. At least that's what I felt like.

If I had carved me, I would have given me knees and elbows, fingers and toes. And if I had chosen my own clothes I would not have picked a cumbersome dress. Pants and a shirt with a warm coat would have been nice.

I stopped at the base of the porch steps and looked up at the top of them, or what I knew to be the top of them, as I could see nothing beyond the bottom step.

One last mountain to scale.

This one wasn't going to be as easy as the tree had been. There was no bark to hold on to. No handholds. No ladder. Not even a rope.

I tried to grab hold of the slick wood surface but could not catch hold. There was nothing to grab onto. I jumped as high as I could but could not reach the edge of the step. How was I to get back inside if I could not climb the steps?

I sat on the muddy ground and studied those horrid steps. Being a tiny doll in a giant world had its advantages, there was lots to explore, plenty to enjoy, but it had its disadvantages too.

A loud bang alerted me to the front door closing just in time for me to topple to the ground. My owner stepped into view. I lay there on the ground, hoping she would not notice me.

But I couldn't be that lucky. As if she knew I was laying there, she spotted me right away.

"How did you get out here?" Her feet clomped on the steps as she ran to me. "Oh, Tatty. Just look at you."

She lifted me in her hands as if I was made of spun glass, turned me all around and exclaimed over my condition. At long last she carried me inside, fussing all the way.

I couldn't have said I was happy to be fussed over but it was nice to be inside again and hopefully safe from any more troubles.