The Doll Father (A short fairy tale)

Once, a long time ago in a faraway land, there lived a little boy called Brin. He lived in a little shack in the woods because his mother and father were very poor but he was a happy child and enjoyed playing with the toy soldiers that his father had carved out of wood and painted bright red uniforms, tall black hats and long black boots upon.

 

Then one day it was announced that the king of that land had declared war on another neighbouring land and Brin’s father was told that he must join the army and go off to fight in the war and though he did not want to leave his family he had no choice.

 

“At least”, he told his wife, “I will make some money as a soldier and I will be able to send it to you. Then you will not be penniless”.

 

But then, not long afterwards, the boy’s father was killed in a battle, in fact his whole regiment was killed, and his mother was forced to remarry.

 

Brin’s stepfather, however, was not a good man. He was a drunkard and he used to beat his mother and the boy hated him.

 

And, looking down from Heaven, Brin’s father wept to see how miserable his wife and child were.

 

“If only I could go down there”, he said to an angel, “And help them”.

 

“And what of those men you killed in battle before you were slain?”, asked the angel, “Do they not leave widows and fatherless children? Do you ever think about them?”.

 

The man admitted that he had never thought about the widows and the children of the men he had killed.

 

“But surely heaven was on our side”, said the man, “That is what we were told”.

 

“Heaven is love and peace and is only on the side of love and peace”, said the angel, “War is hell and only hell is on its side”.

 

But the man was still unhappy about what was happening to his wife and son.

 

“What about love for my wife and son? What about peace for them?”, asked the man, “Can’t I go down there, at least until I have helped them”.

 

Taking pity upon the man, the angel relented.

 

“Alright”, he said, “Until you have helped them”.

 

Then, hoisting the unsuspecting man up he threw him down out of heaven and his spirit landed, with a bump, in one of his sons carved wooden soldiers and, the moment that happened, the wooden soldier blinked its painted eyes and came to life and, standing up on its two wooden legs and, looking around, the boy’s father saw that it was night time and that his son was lying asleep in bed and gripping hold of the boys blanket that was hanging down over the side of the bed he clambered up onto the bed and lay down beside his son.

 

Then, the next morning when the Boy, Brin, awoke, he was astonished to see the wooden soldier lying on his bed next to him.

 

“How did you get there?”, the boy asked the doll, thinking that perhaps either his mother or his stepfather must have put it there.

 

But then his stepfather came into his room and, in an angry voice, said to him, “Get dressed. We’re going into the woods hunting”.

 

Brin’s stepfather had never taken him anywhere before and so Brin was suspicious and well he ought to have been for his stepfather intended to drug the boy and leave him in the woods for the wolves to eat but he dared not disobey his stepfather and so he got dressed and packed a small rucksack into which he put the little carved wooden soldier.

 

“I have the feeling that there is something special about you”, he said to the wooden doll as he was fastening the straps on his rucksack.

 

Then he went with his stepfather deep into the forest.

 

“We must go very deep”, he told Brin, “That is where you find all the deer”.

 

But then, stopping to rest, his step father took two apples out of his own rucksack and handed one to the boy and Brin ate it not knowing that his stepfather had drugged the apple and, before long, the boy fell unconscious.

 

Then his stepfather went away leaving the boy there, knowing that it was where a pack of grey wolves lived and thinking that they would eat up the boy.

 

And, before long, smelling the scent of the sleeping boy, the hungry wolves came out of hiding and began gathering round about him.

 

But the boys father, peering out of his rucksack, had seen what had happened and, drawing his little sword, he leapt out of the rucksack and charged at the wolves, jabbing them with the sword.

 

And though he was smaller than the wolves and they had sharp teeth and claws, still he fought so fiercely to protect his sleeping son that he killed one of the wolves and, seeing the wolf fall dead, the rest of the wolf pack ran away in terror.

 

Sometime later the boy woke up and he saw the dead wolf near to him and the toy soldier lying, motionless, on the ground next to it.

 

“Did you kill that wolf?”, the boy asked the toy soldier, picking it up.

 

The toy soldier said nothing but the boy was sure it must have slain the wolf because he saw the blood upon its sword that was still in its hand.

 

Putting the doll back in his rucksack, Brin then ran back home through the woods to his house where he saw his mother sitting and weeping.

 

“Why are you crying?”, he asked his mother.

 

Seeing him his mother grabbed hold of him and hugged him.

 

“Your stepfather said you had been killed by wolves”, she told her son, joyously, “But your still alive. Thank heaven”.

 

Brin told his mother all that had happened; how his stepfather had given him the apple that had put him to sleep and how, when he’d woken up, he had found the dead wolf and the soldier beside it with blood on its tiny blade and, while his mother didn’t believe that the toy soldier could have fought and killed a wolf, she believed what her son told her about the apple.

 

“We'll run away”, she said, “Right now. Go and stay with friends”.

 

And she took hold of his hand but before they could run away, Brins stepfather, who had been secretly listening, came out of the house carrying an axe.

 

“Run away, will you”, he said, “Not if I have anything to do with it”.

 

Brin’s mother got down on her knees and pleaded with him but the boys stepfather was mad and drunk too.

 

Suddenly, however, from inside Brin’s rucksack he heard a tiny tin trumpet blow and then, from inside his house, the sound of tiny drums and marching feet and then, out of his house, came marching all of his wooden soldiers waving their swords in the air and, clambering out of the rucksack, Brins father came too and, before he knew what was happening, Brins stepfather was covered in wooden soldiers jabbing him with tiny swords.

 

Though he thought it must be some strange hallucination brought about by too much hard drink, his stepfather was still scared out of his senses  and, dropping his axe he ran and ran and, vainly trying to escape from the little soldiers, leapt down a well and was killed.

 

Brin and his mother were both flabbergasted but then Brin’s father explained to them who he was.

 

“I couldn’t be happy, even in heaven, knowing that my wife and child were suffering here on earth”, he told them.

 

But, though the vile Stepfather was dead, there was still a frown upon the face of the little soldier doll.

 

“Soon I will have to go back to heaven”, he told them, “And when I leave you, you will still be poor and penniless. I wish I could give you more”.

 

But then the man’s wife, smiling, informed him, “We won’t be penniless. Although he thought I knew nothing about it, Brin’s stepfather had a lot of money that he kept stashed down the well. It is the only reason that I married him and now that he is dead, it will be ours”.

 

Then, hearing this, Brin’s father thought of something else he could do to help his wife and son and sounding his trumpet again, he ordered the toy regiment to fetch the money that was hidden down the well and they soon returned carrying a box that was filled up to the brim with jingling gold and silver coins.

 

Now, sure that his wife and son would survive and have more comfortable lives, Brin’s father told them that it was time for him to leave.

 

Brin grabbed up the little doll in his arms, crying and said that he didn’t want him to leave but his father insisted that he must,

 

 “But don’t worry, there will always be a pair of eyes in heaven”, he told his son, “That are watching over you”.