December 3

JIGGER'S JOURNAL, Part 3

He stopped dragging me when we got to the top of the stairs.

“You can walk the rest of the way,” he said. “She's not looking.”

I stomped after him into one of the bedrooms. I wanted to punch him, but you can't punch a dog. Aside from it being wrong, he might bite. And I was having a bad enough day without that.

“Why did you drag me like that?” I complained.

“Because I guess you don't want to be caught by a human. And the best way of not being noticed is to pretend to be a doll or a toy.”

He was right, and I hated it.

“I suppose you are going to throw me in a tumble dryer next?” I said sarcastically.

“I did think of it. But a better idea would be to take off your wet clothes and put them on the radiator. They'll be dry in no time.”

“So I just prance around naked and freezing?”

“You could get into the bed and be warm while you wait.”

So that is what I did. I shivered beneath the covers while the dog pottered about spreading my wet clothes on the radiators. Soon there was steam rising up from them, and even sooner I was feeling warm and snug, and a lot happier with the world.

“You couldn't fetch me a mince pie?” I asked.

“You can trot down to the kitchen and fetch one yourself,” he answered. That wasn't going to happen.

Just then we heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and the door burst open. In ran a little girl of about nine years old, wearing a black jumper with a skull and crossbones on it. I liked her immediately. She looked around the room, then ran to the dog and hugged him.

“Leroy, you're damp,” she said. “Have you been playing in the rain? Did you shake yourself and drench my room?”

“Yes and no,” he said.

Then she spotted me.

“Hi. The name is Jiggers. James Jiggers. But you can call me Jiggers,” I said.

“I'm Kate. And you're an...”

“I know. I try not to let people see me, but it's too late for that now. My clothes got wet and Leroy is drying them.”

She looked at the radiator.

“They need to be washed. They are filthy. Were you swimming in a mud puddle?”

“Not by choice,” I snapped. “And now I have nothing to wear.”

“That's no problem. I have plenty of dolls and teddies your size. We'll find you something.”

She ran over to a drawer and began throwing toys all over the floor. Finally she came to one Cabbage Patch doll and pounced on it with delight. I was horrified. The doll was dressed in a bright pink jumpsuit with frills and lace and plenty of bows and ribbons. I would prefer the wet and dirty medieval clothes. But I had no choice. Before I had time to protest she pounced on me and began to dress me like I was one of her dolls. And then I was out of the warm cosy bed and looking like a silly girl doll.

“You look cute,” she said.

“I'm a spy. I'm not meant to look cute. I'm on a mission.”

“You'll have to tell me all about it, but first I want to play with my Barbie doll.”

My face went yucky, but Leroy looked at me and whispered: “Don't worry, you'll like the way she plays with Barbie.”

I couldn't believe it. The girl had a water rocket, and she strapped Barbie to the top of the rocket. She tied a scarf to Barbie's shoulders as a parachute, then she opened the window. A rush of cold wet air swept in, and for a moment I was glad of the dry warm pink jumpsuit. Kate aimed the rocket out the window and began pumping furiously with a bicycle pump. Finally she had enough pressure and she shot the water rocket right out the window and up into the air. I know Barbie is only a plastic doll but she had a look of panic on her face. As the rocket zoomed out a spray of water shoot back from the nozzle and hit me square in the face, and drenched my new clothes. I yelped. I was wet again.

The rocket shot up into the air, then Barbie fell off and began to fall to earth, the scarf slowing her down. Kate reached for a bow and arrow, then shot the arrow out the window. The arrow was tied to the bow with a long length of thin string. It sailed right over Barbie's head and got tangled in the scarf. Kate pulled on the string, and the arrow, scarf and Barbie came flying back through the window.

“Mission accomplished, Barbie,” she said triumphantly. Then she turned to me.

“You're wet again. I'll find you new clothes.”

“I'm fine, really. I like being wet.”

But she was having none of it. Within a few minutes I had been wrestled to the ground and put in a new pink dress with even more frills. I looked very silly. My mission was not going to plan at all.

Then she sat me down on the bed, and said: “So why are you in Limerick?”

“I didn't know I was in Limerick,” I answered. “I was trying to get to Bunratty Castle. I am on a very important secret adventure and I need to get into the castle as soon as possible. Do you have a bicycle I could borrow?”

“Your feet wouldn't even reach the pedals. The same if I give you my dad's car keys. But I think I have a plan. Do you have to get there today, or would tomorrow do?”

“Today I am wet and hungry. Tomorrow would be fine,” I said.

“My mum and dad are bringing me to Bunratty tomorrow. If you pretend to be a doll you can come along too. Leroy is coming, but we have to keep him on a lead.”

“I hate that,” said Leroy.

“Santa is going to be there and I'll meet him,” she went on excitedly.

Just my luck. He's my boss, and he was going to see me in a pink dress.