When we left Uncle Wild’s house, we
strolled through Minced Forest on our way to Alpin’s home. There we run into
Vinny and Baby Dolphus. The latter was carrying a very small book, though a little big for a Leafy.
“What are you reading, Dolphus?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. Most
Leafies don’t read.”
“We’re scared of books,” explained his
uncle Vinny. “We feel like they are going to trap us between pages and we´ll
be pressed to death when the book snaps shut. But we like oral literature. ”
“I remember you said that once,” I said.
“I was in the Royal Library.”
“That’s where we are headed for. Dolphus
found this miniature book with lots of pictures in it and he wants to learn to
read it. It’s so small that it can’t harm him, can it?”
“There are lots of miniature books that
won’t harm him. But why does he have to go to the library to do that? Someone
can read it to him. I can.”
“Thank you very much. But Dolphus wants
to be able to read it himself. He wants to be an intellectual.”
“Ah!” I said. Now that was odd. The
Leafies don’t exactly disapprove of or mistrust book-learning, but they don’t
think much of it either.
“What does he mean by intellectual?”
asked Alpin. “One book doesn’t make an intellectual, does it?”
“Dolphus wants to be mental and highbrow.
He thinks maybe the librarian, Mildew, can give him books he will be able to
read.”
“This dork doesn’t know what he is
getting into,” said Alpin. “Wait and see how people will treat him for wanting
to be superior.”
“Well, that’s an idea,” I said to the Leafies.
“We can go see if Mildew has any ideas
herself, on this. And if she can’t teach him to read, I won’t mind doing it
myself,” I offered.
Alll four of us transported ourselves to
the garden of my parents’ palace, and once there, we went through the wrought
gold door that takes one to the cider mill in Apple Island. Then we strolled
to the library, all save Alpin, who stayed at the mill to terrorize its caretakers. I let him do that because I
was too interested in what Mildew might say to Dolphus. She is a kind person
and I felt she wouldn’t disappoint him, but just in case, and for one kid that
wants to be an intellectual, I felt I had to be there to help if things got
difficult.
Before entering the library, we saluted
Curmudgeon Finn, the man who couldn't be taught to read but who saw the light one day of need and who was sitting as he often does in front of his mansion,
built right next to the library his sister is in charge of. Inside the library,
we found Don Alonso and Michael O’Toora, who were returning copies of a book
they had borrowed to read at their book
club. We told them why we were there and Don Alonso asked if he could see the
miniature book.
“Ah! The Tale of the Gingerbread Man! In Spanish, this little man is made of marzipan. But his story is just the same.”
“You can join our book club if you really want to be an intellectual,” Michael said to Dolphus.
“I would love to. But I can’t read yet.”
“My cousin Michael will teach you,” said Alpin,
entering through the door licking the sugar the doughnuts had left on his lips
right off them. “Arley is too busy waiting on me, though he does sometimes
shrink from his job. Like now, need I say?”
“Is everything okay at the cider mills?”
I asked him.
“They’re as cross as two sticks because I
ate more than they had baked this morning, but they’ll be okay,” said Alpin.
“I’ll make it up to them later,” I said.
“I suppose I could teach Dolphus to read.
He is very sharp,” said Michael.
That decided, Alpin and I went back to
Mum and Dad´s palace where he enjoyed himself harassing the cooks in the
kitchen while I told Mum about Botolpha and…that is, about her new nieces and
their need of a Name Day Party.
Mum got all excited and said that of
course she would give them one. She rushed to her crystal ball to tell everyone
about the newcomers and left me standing there while she made all sorts of
plans with her cousins the Seven Fairies.
Back to Dolphus then. He is, indeed, very
clever. And the very next day Alpin and I found him reading The Gingerbread Man to his Uncle Vinny.
“Now he wants a friend he can read to.
He’s going to need one, because we Leafies don’t think badly of intellectuals,
but we have no time for nonsense. That is, I mean, we have things to do and we
can’t just sit and listen to Dolphus edify us all day, though we are conscious that his
reading skills are an amazing ability and will be useful to us one day.”
“In my story of the Gingerbread Man, the
old lady who creates him and her husband want to have a little boy. She wishes
this hard as she makes the cookie, and that´s why it comes to life,” said Dolphus.
“May I see that book?” I asked. I saw it
was indeed true that in that version the childless couple wanted a son. But
they wanted to eat the gingerbread man just like anyone else, because he was a
cookie.
“Señora Estrella says she will make a
marzipan man and I can stand beside her and watch while she makes him and wish
he will come to life because I need a friend.”
The next day I again saw Dolphus. He was
sitting on a toadstool clutching his little book. He was looking very sad. So
sad he just shook his head and wouldn’t speak. It was Vinny who told us why he
was in such a state.
Vinny said he and Dolphus had gone to Don
Alonso’s house and there in the kitchen was Señora Estrella with everything she
needed to make the marzipan man laid out on the kitchen table. Two small
raisins became the marzipan man´s eyes, half a cherry his nose and a long thin
bit of candied orange was his mouth.A truly fine marzipan man he was. And what do you know? The marzipan man came to
life when they drew him out of the oven. But before Dolphus could say hi, the man
jumped out the window and disappeared in a cloud of dust and powdered sugar,
running away on the road.
“It´s December and my sisters are helping out Finbar the
Toymaker, so they can’t be of help to us today. But I noticed when I visited my uncle,
Wildgale, that his daughters had been nibbling on gingerbread cookies. Maybe he
can help us. I have to go see him, so why don’t you tag along, Dolphus? German
gingerbread is very good.”
When we got to Uncle Wildgale’s house, he
said Mathilde wasn’t in, but that her cookbook was in the kitchen and it did
have a recipe for great gingerbread. We decided to prepare it and we got down
to it. With the little girls sitting on the table watching with great interest how their dad prepared the gingerread, I used food colouring to colour the
icing I prepared to give the little gingerbread man Wildgale had cut out a
nice yellow shirt and orange pants. He had raisins for eyes, half a cherry for
a nose, and a long, smiling orange rind mouth, just like Doña Estrella's marzipan man had had.
“Hi,” said Dolphus to the little man,
when we drew him out of the oven. The
man sat up and rubbed his eyes. But before Dolphus could ask the man if he
wanted to be his friend, you guessed it, the gingerbread man sprang from the
kitchen table, and right into the nameless little dragon´s mouth.
The poor dragon, who had only been
yawning and was caught unawares, coughed him out so strongly that he flew out
the open kitchen door. He landed in a holly bush and got up in a leap and
rushed off before we got over our
surprise. The dragon looked awfully guilty and sorry, but it wan’t his fault . He
had no idea what had gotten into his mouth.
And then, Richenda, that is, the younger
little girl, tugged at her dad’s sleeve and making a great effort, managed to say, “No
ears.”
“She’s absolutely right,” I said. “A
friend has to have ears. Friends need to know how to listen. We’ll make another
gingerbread man, but this time, the first feature we will give him will be
ears, so you can start telling him how you want him to be your friend while
we’re making him, Dolphus. And calm him telling him nobody means to eat him
when he comes out of the oven.”
“You know?” said Uncle Wild. “This kid is
smart. And very observant. Mathilde wants to put her in charge of watching the
wall, but I keep saying she’s not in the army.”
And so we made another gingerbread man,
and gave him fine ears. And when he came out of the oven he said hi to Dolphus
even before Dolphus said hi. He said his name was Kion Confucius Faxian but we
could call him Gingerlad. And Gingerlad became Dolphus' friend.
“Do you think we should wear glasses?”
Dolphus asked him.
“Maybe in time,” said Gingerlad. “But not
just yet.”
“Wannabees. Posture and airs,” said Alpin.
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