Hamish Has Enough

Hamish had finally had enough. No, he didn't leave Hester and the triplets to go drinking in the pub or start a new life somewhere else, he left the house that morning of the 24th of december to finally give that stupid old poltergeist a piece of his mind. It was the poltergeist's fault that his family had had to move into that shoddy old cottage in the woods, it was the poltergeist's fault that his wife was suffering from a loss of magic power and sitting on the cold wooden floor with her shivering triplets, crying. He wanted to scold the poltergeist so hard that it would finally make itself visible and apologize to his wife for all the mean things it had done. 

As he was plodding through the deep snow, his left boot came off.

He didn't let this distract him at all. He put it back on and continued on his way. He trudged on and on and on, over hills and mounds of snow.

Finally, when he had just started to get out of breath, he arrived at the old house.

He entered and felt surprised that it still smelled like home, even though they had moved out so long ago and taken all their belongings with them.

He took off his green boots, the purple scarf and his pink coloured cap. Everything was damp from the snow.

With a determined expression on his face he stomped over the floorboards.

The old built-in stove was the only item they hadn't taken with them. Hamish looked around the empty place.

"I am the master of this house and I have come back! I will not leave until you show yourself to me and listen to what I have to say, mischievious being!" boomed Hamish.

There was no reaction or sound whatsoever.

"I am staying, you hear me?? I won't leave till you come out!"

"Still here!" Hamish snorted and wiggled around in front of the stove, trying to provoke the poltergeist.

After half an hour of teasing and dancing around to attract the poltergeist's attention, Hamish was hoarse and his knees were hurting.

He wouldn't leave until the issue was solved, that was for sure. So he sat down next to the stove to rest a little and catch his breath. 

After another half an hour of sitting around, Hamish became overwhelmed by a feeling of utter boredom. He knew he wouldn't give in though, no matter what. Slowly, he extracted his pipe from his vest pocket.

He started to ask himself what he would do if his plan didn't work. What if the poltergeist was even more headstrong than he was?? But he musn't allow such thoughts into his head. It just had to work.

Hamish lit his pipe and smoked a while. This rather relaxed him. He watched the smoke swirl around him and slowly fill the room with its spicy scent.  

Suddenly he heard a muted cough and a loud clanking from inside the stove.

Hamish was so startled that he fell over, dropping his pipe onto the floor.

Was something inside the oven?? He laid his pipe on the stove top and bent down to open the oven door.

Something small and hairy tumbled out.

It wasn't just hairy, it was pink and naked too, and it had something long and blue sticking out of its back.

As Hamish bent down to help the little creature up, it bit him into his hand. "Ouch!" he exclaimed.

He managed to place it on top of the stove and then quickly took a step back so it wouldn't bite him again, all the while rubbing his hand. 

"Serves you right for annoying a forest pixie like that!" It snapped at him. "First you tried to smoke me out and then you wanted to kill me! Admit it!"

"Is that what you are?" Hamish asked incredulously, "A forest pixie?"  The pixie just blinked. Then Hamish continued, "Do you happen to know anything about a poltergeist in this house?"

The pixie cleared its throat and its tiny little cheeks suddenly turned bright red.

"Why should I know anything about a boulder-gise or whatever it is you have just mentioned?? I was just minding my own business here. Trying to keep warm. When somebody committed an attack on my life."

Though Hamish could seem insensitive at times, he was actually quite the contrary and rather a good judge of character. So when the creature's head suddenly  slumped onto the stove top and its tiny shoulders started to move up and down he realized that the pixie's resentfulness was actually sadness, and that although it pretended to be fearless, it was actually quite afraid.  

"Now, now, don't cry, little one. Let's talk," he said. And they did.

  

The pixie told him that one day in the woods she had had a row with a young badger who had ripped off her right upper wing. When she returned to the scene of the quarrel to retrieve it the next day, she saw a large female wild boar pick it up and put it into a glass jar. She followed the boar (who turned out to be Hester) and decided to hide inside the Hogwarts' home until she found the jar with her wing. She never did though (here the little creature sobbed) and instead, due to all her fussing and throwing things about, she hurt her head one day on some furniture, knocking off one of her fragile pixie ears. 

She leaned over to show Hamish her missing body parts.

At that point Hamish couldn't help himself. A big fat tear rolled down his cheek. He turned away so that the pixie wouldn't see, but she saw it anyway and it made her feel a lot better.

Hamish cleared his throat. "But why didn't you just talk to us and ask us for your wing back, you silly little thing?!" he inquired.

"I did not know that I could..." she whispered.  "My kind doesn't believe in talking to Sylvanians... I've been told that Sylvanians cause trouble and are not to be trusted and that it's best not to interact with them at all... I'm sorry..." she squeaked.

 

Hamish was no longer mad at all. All he felt was pity and a huge chunk of guilt as he understood how the Hogwarts themselves had (though unwittingly) been resposible for much of what had happened. It seemed to Hamish like there had been serious prejudice on both sides, from the forest pixie toward the Hogwarts and from the Hogwarts toward the poltergeist... that wasn't one after all.

Instead of trying to communicate with the "poltergeist", they had put all their energy into trying to ward it off, making the pixie more and more desperate in the search for its wing (and ear)...

"There, there," said Hamish, once again clearing his throat, "There's no more reason to cry. Once we've gone home and explained it all to the Mrs, she will put everything right again."

And with that said, Hamish started to get dressed. He put his cap and boots back on and the pixie handed him his pipe, now no longer believing that he had been trying to harm her in any way.

As Hamish trudged through the snow with the little pixie wrapped warmly into his purple scarf he let out a sigh of relief. Hester would be thrilled to hear that the poltergeist problem was finally solved. SOLVED!!

The forest pixie was bewildered. Never had she thought possible that Sylvanians could be so easy to talk to. As she imagined getting back her wing and ear and maybe even being offered a cup of hot chocolate and being treated like a guest this time and not an intruder, she felt the warm tingle of anticipation and smiled.

   

❤❤❤ Thank you all for your patience and comments! ❤❤❤

This story was made up a long time ago, but I didn't have the time or peace to write and post it until this evening.

❤ I  made the polterg... I mean forest pixie(!) from polymer clay (fimo). ❤