Lost Places by Carla Jablonski Read Free Book Online

“Excuse me,” he called as he stood up. “Did you say ‘help,’ Molly, miss?”
    He headed toward the sound. “The Opener would never forgive me if I allowed her to lose herself entirely,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t forgive myself . She did so nicely try to make me wings.” He tripped over some roots. “I wish I had a pair now,” he grumbled as he picked himself up and hurried along the uneven ground. “Oh, frick and fritters!”
    He stopped when he came upon a group of ladies taller than him. He scratched his head, perplexed. “How odd. They don’t belong here,” he murmured. He made his way through the snaking line of costumed ten-inch-tall ladies. He stopped in front of one in an elegant evening gown.
    â€œExcuse me, have you seen Molly?” he asked. He waited but she didn’t respond. In fact, her expression didn’t change. She just stared down at the little bouquet of flowers she held in her dainty hands.
    Perhaps she was too well-brought up to speak to someone she had not been introduced to. He bowed. “Good day. My name is Crimple,” he said. “Pardon me, but have you seen a flesh person shouting ‘help’ and ‘lizards’ or something of that sort?”
    Why doesn’t she answer? Frustration made him bold. He grabbed her little bouquet and stared down at it. “Wh-what?” The flowers weren’t real. He peered more closely at the woman. “You’re not real either,” he declared.
    The ground rumbled and a dark shadow loomed over Crimple. He squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to look.
    â€œYou should always ask first,” a deep voice rumbled.
    One of Crimple’s eyes popped open. He gazed up at a gigantic pink dinosaur. “Ask?” Crimple repeated.
    â€œBefore you play with other people’s toys.” The dinosaur reached down and picked up the plastic woman Crimple had been speaking to. “Her dress is dirty now,” the dinosaur complained. “With nasty dust and germs.” The creature dropped the doll into a large sack.
    â€œOh, my, spittle spattle.” Crimple wrung his hands. He knew he was in trouble now.
    The dinosaur glared at Crimple and brought his face down close to the little narl. “Did you say ‘spit’? Spit is a bad word. Naughty-naughty. Little people must not say it.”
    â€œWe mustn’t?” Crimple said. “Oh, I am so sorry. I had no idea. I do hope I haven’t offended you. I didn’t mean to play with your toy either. I only meant to ask directions. I’m trying to find my friend Molly, you see and—”
    The dinosaur seized Crimple and lifted him off the ground. “Molly is a girl! I know where Molly is! Ask me to tell, with sugar and spice and everything nice.”
    â€œYou won’t mind?” Crimple asked, wondering if it would actually be as simple as that.
    â€œAsk, ‘pretty please with sugar and spice.’”
    â€œUh, pretty please, sir, with sugar and spice, where is Molly?”
    â€œFunny little person. My teeth laugh at you. You should never talk to strangers. Didn’t you learn that?”
    The dinosaur dropped Crimple into the large sack, which Crimple discovered was filled with dolls.
    A moment later, Crimple felt the dinosaur’s grip again. He was pulled from the sack and flung through the door of a house. Multiple locksclanged, clicked, and clacked behind him. In front of him, Molly sat cross-legged in the center of the room, filling much of the space.
    â€œCrimple! They caught you, too!” she cried.
    â€œI’m afraid so,” Crimple confessed. “For here I am.”
    â€œWell done!” a voice outside the dollhouse cheered. Molly peered out the window and saw that a new creature had joined the dinosaurs. A small blue figure wearing an hourglass on a chain around his neck stood smiling at the dollhouse.
    He looks like an