Chapter Forty-Four: The Elephant and the Goat

The day after the party, Magpie woke up on a couch with a tatty blanket over her, and no idea where she was. This was someone’s house, and not a house she had ever been in before. The light was dim because the room didn’t face the sun, but there was enough to see, and what she saw made her freeze all the way to her soul.

One entire wall of this room, floor to ceiling, was shelved, and every shelf had at least twenty dolls on it. Their skin was porcelain, their dresses silk, and their eyes were paint, but it felt like every painted eye was staring at her directly. These weren’t dolls that had ever been in any shop, or if they were they’d been dropped in the reject bin instead of sold. Misaligned eyes. Crooked smiles. Oh my God, why did that one have teeth?

Cracks that were carefully, lovingly, badly patched together. One on the third shelf had two left legs. One on the fifth shelf had its face covered over with fine, velvety fur. That one near the top had… nope. She was never going to think of that ever again, and if God was in a good mood she’d forget it existed and never dream of it.

Actually, if God was in a good mood, the entire house would be hit by lightning.

Any minute now.

Nope, God was not feeling generous today.

The rest of the room was normal. There was a faded rug on the floor, a fat ginger cat lying on it, enjoying the sun. The couch she was on and an armchair. An unlit fireplace. A small bureau. A painting of a lake, badly done. A large mirror on one wall.

A wall full of horrifying dolls she was trying not to look at.

She reached down to pet the cute little cat instead and pulled her hand back when she realised it was dead. Taxidermied, on its back, with its belly up for rubs.

This was the home of a monster.

There was a moment where it felt like she had died, as she wondered if this was Charlie’s house, and then she remembered she had been in Charlie’s house at least six hundred times before. They were best friends. That was all they’d ever be.

Mostly because she was sure she was going to die today.

“Breakfast?” Maggie Hill asked as she came into the room, wielding a banana as if it was a dagger.

Oh, Magpie wasn’t going to die today. Magpie was already dead. Everything made sense now.

Maggie thrust the banana at her. Magpie took it.

“How much of last night do you remember?” Maggie asked.

“Uhh.” She really didn’t remember much after the pie. Had Charlie really been wearing a pirate hat?

“More importantly,” Maggie said as she cut to the point. “Do you remember the goat?”

Magpie dropped the banana. “Goat?”

“You won your bet.”

“Bet?”

“And now there’s a goat in my kitchen.”

“Goat?”

“I would like you to deal with it.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

Maggie sighed and sat in the armchair. “This is the trouble with a reputation like mine. I’m the gang enforcer. We’re all women. I have to act like a violent psycho or every two bit prick would be molesting you girls. But honestly, I’m not like that. Look, I painted a picture.” She pointed to the painting of the lake. It was a blob of blue on a blob of brown with the word lake on it. “I make beautiful dolls.” She pointed at the dolls. Magpie kept her attention on Maggie, who, for once, was not the most terrifying thing in the room. “I love my handsome boy so much I kept him around forever.” She scratched the dead cat’s tummy. “See, I’m not a psychopath at all.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

Maggie sighed. “Eat the banana.” She waited until Magpie picked up the banana before she started speaking again. “Magpie, I’m absolutely not going to kill you. Not only am I a totally normal person, you’re currently my favourite Elephant. You don’t remember last night at all?”

“I was… dancing?”

“You were dancing on top of a horse!”

“What?”

“A police man’s horse!”

“No.”

“You had the coppers hat on. And his shoes. I’ve no idea how you got his shoes. You might just be the best thief in London.”

“No.”

“He was chasing you down the street. You were throwing cheese at him. Why did you have a bag full of cheese, anyway? I assume it was part of your goat plan?”

“I like cheese?”

Maggie Hill barked out a loud laugh and sat back on the armchair as Magpie considered what to do. She could turn to face Maggie more directly and then she wouldn’t see those terrifying dolls made by a woman who called herself a totally normal person. That seemed like a good idea, except for the part where the dolls would be behind her.

“So, the goat,” Maggie brought the conversation back on track.

“The goat?”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Take him to the safe house?”

Maggie froze as if Magpie had said the most ridiculous thing ever, as if this entire conversation wasn’t the scariest person she’d ever met saying the most ridiculous thing ever, and then immediately topping it with a more ridiculous thing. “Why?”

“That’s where we take things we ‘alf-inch?”

Maggie considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. Don’t know what our fences are gonna do with a goat though. Still, you won the bet.”

“Do you know the terms?”

“Everyone knows what the terms, girl. You and Charlie were arguing about whether the tentacle monster had stolen a goat. You started off saying there were no goats in London, but then you changed it up. Said if the tentacle monster could steal a goat in a city that didn’t have goats, so could you. Made the bet, fucked off, came back on a copper’s horse with his shoes and hat and a bag full of cheese and a fucking goat.”

Magpie blinked. “Where’s the horse?”

“We had to give him back. Technically a police horse is a copper, so that’s not theft, it’s kidnapping, and you do not want the bobbies thinking you kidnapped a copper.”

“Oh, that’s… good then. Do you… I don’t suppose you know the terms of the bet?”

“Everyone knows the terms of the bet. I just said that, girl. If Charlie won, she was going to spend a week calling you her queen, pampering you, and doing absolutely anything you asked. And if you won, she wasn’t.”

Magpie realised then that Maggie Hill was trying to see if she could kill Magpie with nothing but words. It felt like it was working.

“Now, will we go get this goat? It’s in my kitchen.” She stood up and led the way to a door at the back of the room, then stepped aside. Magpie walked up holding a banana as if it was a shield. Maggie indicated the door. “It’s your goat.”

That seemed like a good argument, so Magpie pushed open the door and stepped through into the Forty Elephant safe house. All of the Elephants were there, staring at the door she had just walked through, and there was a large banner that read Magpy the Elefant. Behind her, Maggie had collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles and in front of her, right in front of her, was Kitty.

She pulled Magpie into a hug. “Don’t mind the hazing, apple pie. All the girls go through that when they join, that’s why we call it the Womb. You’ve been reborn as one of us. Welcome to the family.”

“None… none of that was real?”

Behind her, Maggie Hill was gasping, possibly dying, repeating “your face” over and over. To her side, there was a huge window. It was the mirror in the room she had just come from, and she realised the Elephants… her family… had been watching the whole thing.

“Most of it wasn’t real,” Kitty said. “The Torture Womb is mostly silly, if I’m honest. The dead cat we had taxidermied just for there. His name is Sweetboy. Later on, you can make your own ugly doll for the ugly doll wall, we’ve all got one. Mine is the one with two left legs, ‘cause I can’t dance. Come on, I’ll introduce you to your new sisters.”

“Okay.” Magpie stepped forward then stopped suddenly. “Most of it wasn’t real? Which bit was real?”

“Well, the bet was real…”

“No.”

“And you did steal a goat.”

“No!”

Kitty pointed. There was a goat in the safe house with them, drinking cider from a party bowl. Charlie was watching over it, silly grin on her face, pirate hat on her head, and cider in her hand that she was topping the goat’s bowl up with.

Magpie turned to Kitty. “Why the fuck did I ‘alf-inch a goat?”

“Because you’re an Elephant,” Kitty replied, as if that was the only answer she would ever need.

After a moment, Magpie decided it was.

Previous Chapter: Forty-three

Next Chapter: Forty-five

Goat’s Note

Goatguide goats goat G.O.A.T goat.