FicWad

Beatrix stared at the man before her, teetering between bewilderment and rage. "What . . . is this . . . is this because I'm different from the rest of you?"

Different. Leonard turned the word over in his mind as he looked the petite dollmaker up and down, a dry smirk on his face. She was an utter disaster - unwashed hair that was nearly as short as a man's, silly smile - though that was long gone by now - strange occupation . . . pants. The young man snorted derisively, gesturing vaguely at Beatrix's entire body. "Not just different . . . wrong. Nobody wants you here, love, because you disrupt our way of life."

"People buy my dolls," she retorted angrily. "Even if you all hate me, you love my art."

"Ahh . . . that's true." His eyes flickered to the rows of shelves that lined her small shop, laden with beautiful dolls of all shapes and sizes: animals, thieves, princesses, mysterious mythical beasts and imaginative characters, some colorful, some artistically bleak . . . an adult could spend just as much time marveling over these toys as a child, if you could even call them toys. But his awe faded quickly. "The fact remains, Miss Gordon, that even the pleasantness of purchasing your lovely little toys is outweighed by how distasteful we find you."

"How much time do I get before you kick me out?"

"The petition goes into effect in one month."

"So what if I prove you wrong before then?"

Leonard raised one long black eyebrow, pushing his elegant wire-framed spectacles up the bridge of his slender nose. "You'll attempt to fit in?"

"No." Beatrix hauled herself up on the counter, taking a seat by the ancient, clanky old cash register. "I'll make my dolls outweigh my . . . distastefulness."

"Good luck with that," Leonard scoffed. "You really think we'll deal with you just so we can go to your shop?"

"Hopefully." Beatrix swung her legs silently for a moment or two as the mayor's son fumed. She suddenly perked up, her former bad mood vanishing. "Hey, listen, don't be mad. I'm not mad."

This time, both eyebrows went up. "I've just told you that the entire town hates you, and you're not mad at me?"

"'Course not. Here, look . . ." She jumped off the counter and dashed over to one of the shelves, her customary grin back on her face. Beatrix had a set of rolling ladders, the kind usually seen in large libraries, to reach the higher shelves. She climbed up one of them now, plucking a doll off the second-to-highest shelf. It was a slender male shape, about as long as her forearm. She dashed over to Leonard, still smiling happily. "Look! It's you!"

Leonard bent down to look at the doll. It was a pale young man, painstakingly carved from the wood, with large, dark eyes and soft black hair made of dyed rabbit fur. He had to admit that it did bear a vague resemblance to him.

"Wait, wait -" Beatrix pushed the doll into his hands and dashed back into her workshop in the rear of the store. She emerged with a brush, a small length of wire, and a pot of black paint. She swiftly bent the wire into a pair of miniature glasses, placing them gently over the doll's eyes, and then - with an impish grin - painted a pair of angry eyebrows above the doll's eyes, giving him an expression of perpetual fury. "Now it looks like you!" she giggled.

Leonard Flute almost - almost = smiled. But then he caught himself. "I most certainly do not look a thing like that!" he protested. His eyebrows creased in irritation, rendering him absolutely identical to the doll. Beatrix burst into laughter, angering him even more. "Well! If you're not going to take this seriously, then I'll simply leave!"

Beatrix attempted to stem her laughter, though bursts of giggles still escaped as she spoke. "Oh, I - hee hee! - I'm s-sorry, really I am - here, you can - tee hee hee! - you can keep the doll. Free of charge."

Leonard contemplated the doll for a moment, then sighed. "Well, thank - er, thank you. It will make a nice, um . . . a nice present for my niece." With that, he nodded coldly at her and swept out the door, growling at the chipper tinkle of the bell.

Beatrix smiled at his receding figure through the window. She knew more about the town than he thought - Leonard Flute didn't have a niece.

But there were more pressing matters at the moment. She was going to be evicted in one month's time, and she didn't know if she could settle down again in another town. But there was a chance she could save herself and her shop . . . taking a deep breath, Beatrix set a determined smile on her face and marched back to her workshop.