Tales Of The Wand
#12 – Little Doll Lost
by JMD

    “Hello?”
   
    Lisa practically jumped for joy at the sound of her cousin’s voice on the phone.  “Anne!” she shouted.  “Great!  You’re home!”
   
    “Just came through the door,” Anne confirmed.  “Why?  What’s up?”
   
    “I need you to do something for me,” Lisa told her.
   
    “Sure.  What?”
   
    “I need you to call Chris and...”
   
    “Uh,” Anne interrupted, “isn’t he there with you?”
   
    “Not right now,” Lisa explained.  “He’s down at the convention.  At the writer’s panel.  I tried to call him, but I guess he turned his phone off.”
   
    “So what makes you think I’ll be able to get him?”
   
    “You won’t,” Lisa admitted.  “But he’ll be done in about an hour.  You can call him then.”
   
    “Couldn’t you do that?”
   
    Lisa hesitated.  “Uh, no.”
   
    “Oh-kay.”
   
    “Look, I just need you to call Chris and let him know that I locked myself out of our room, and...”
   
    “Heh,” Anne cut her off.  “How’d you manage that?”
   
    Lisa sighed impatiently.  “How is not important.  I just need you...”

    “Are you naked?”
   
    “What?  No.  I’ve got on a robe.”  A really short robe, she added to herself.  If she had to bend over for any reason, she wouldn’t leave much to the imagination, that was for sure.
   
    “So, what’s the problem?  Just go down to the desk and get a new key.”
   
    “I can’t,” Lisa replied simply.

    “Why not?”  Anne waited, but didn’t get a reply.  “Lisa?”

    “I can’t because in about...”  Lisa pulled the phone away long enough to glance at the time on its surface.  “...six minutes, I’m going to be a blow-up doll.”  This time, she was the one that didn’t get a reply.  “Hello?”
   
    “A blow-up doll,” Anne said.
   
    “Yeah,” Lisa sighed.  “A deflated blow-up doll, actually.”  This time she didn’t get silence.  She got laughter.  Lots of laughter.  She took a deep breath.  “Hey!  This isn’t funny.”
   
    Anne fought to control herself.  “Of course it is,” she sputtered.  “Why in the world would you want to be a deflated blow-up doll?”
   
    With another sigh, Lisa answered.  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
   
    “Oh, I bet,” Anne said, before bursting into another laughing fit.

    Lisa didn’t have time for this.  “Hey!” she shouted into the phone.  “As much as I’d love to listen to you laughing at my mistakes, I’ve really got more important things to worry about.  In case it slipped your notice, I really am in trouble here.”
   
    That seemed to work, as Anne’s laughter died out.  “Oh, yeah,” she said.  “What are you going to do?  I mean, by the time I get in touch with Chris, someone’s bound to have found you already.”
   
    “That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” Lisa told her.  “I’ve got a hiding place, but I need you to tell Chris where he can find me.”
   
    “Okay.”
   
    Lisa relaxed a bit.  “There’s a couch at the end of the hall.  It goes all the way to the floor, so you can’t see under it.”
   
    “You’re going to crawl under a couch?”
   
    “No,” Lisa corrected.  “I’m going to get behind it.  It’ll be tight, but not for long.”
   
    A short laugh came from Anne.  “No, I guess not.”
   
    “Just tell Chris when you get him to come get me.  Okay?”
   
    “You got it, Cousin.  I’m on it.”
   
    “Thanks.  I’d better get back there before someone comes by.”
   
    “Good luck,” Anne said, and disconnected.
   
    “Yeah,” Lisa said as she closed her phone.  “Like I’ve had a lot of that so far today.”
   
    She went to the side of the couch and looked at the gap between it and the wall.  Like she’d told Anne, it was going to be a tight fit, but once she turned back into a heap of airless rubber, she shouldn’t have a problem.  With a sigh, she began to work her way into the narrow space.  It took some squeezing, but she managed to get about to the center of the couch.
   
    “Okay,” she said, as she tried to scrunch down into a crouching position, “now comes the hard part.”  It was hard work, but she seemed to be making progress.  That was, until she banged her elbow onto the wooden trim at the top of the couch, sending a jolt of pain up her arm.  Jerking her arm in response to the pain, her phone flew from her hand, bounced onto the cushions of the couch and down to the floor in front of it.
   
    “Shit!” she hissed through gritted teeth, staring at the phone.  She knew she didn’t have a lot of time, but she didn’t want to leave it just lying there in the middle of the hallway.  If she hurried, she thought, she should have enough time to get it and still get back into her hiding place.  So, she stood back up and began to squeeze her way out from behind the couch.
   
    A second later, she felt something tug on her robe.  Looking back, she realized it was caught on something behind her.  She couldn’t tell what, because the space was too narrow for her to get a clear view.  But whatever it was, it had her good.  She couldn’t seem to pull it loose.  “Oh, come on,” she spit at the robe.  “Wasn’t getting caught on the doorknob and locking us out of the room enough for you?”
   
    She looked back at the phone on the carpet, before checking out the rest of the hallway.  No one in sight.  They were staying on the floor that had been reserved for convention guests, so everyone should be down there like Chris.  Right?
   
    She made one more attempt to get the robe loose, but it wouldn’t budge.  “Okay, Anne,” she sighed, untying the sash, and pulling her arms free.  “Now, I’m naked.”
   
    Moving quickly, she shimmied from behind the couch.  She wasted no time grabbing up her phone and getting back around to the side of the couch.  She pressed her way back into the tiny space behind it.  She took a second, to push the still-hung robe out of sight.  Then, she again began to squeeze herself into her desired hiding spot.  This time, she took care to keep her phone below the back of the couch.
   
    She’d barely gotten down an inch when she felt the familiar tingle of the wand’s magic.  “No!” she cried out.  “Not yet.”
   
    But it was too late.  An instant later, she seemed to cave in on herself, as she returned to the form she’d been in twelve hours earlier.  Unable to stop herself, her airless body fell forward, leaving her face down across the back of the couch.  She took some small amount of satisfaction from the sound of her phone hitting the floor behind the couch as it dropped from her now-deflated hand.
   
    Okay, Lisa, she scolded herself.  What’s Plan B?  It was a silly question really.  Obviously, Plan B was to lie helpless across the back of the couch.  So, with a silent sigh, she resigned herself to her situation.  I just hope that everyone’s so busy with the convention that no one finds me before Chris gets here.
   
    So naturally, that’s when the elevator at the end of the hall chimed.
   
    Lisa froze.  Well, as much as an inanimate blow-up doll could freeze anyway.  Though, she couldn't see anything, she increased her efforts to hear whatever she could.  At first, it was just a muffled voice, but as it apparently moved in her direction, it got clearer.
   
    "...she just left, guy," the voice said.  It was obviously male, and from the one-sidedness of the conversation, she assumed he was talking on the phone.  "I know," the voice went on.  "I paid her way out here and everything.  And as soon as something better comes along, she's gone."
   
    As the voice went on, it continued to come closer.  "Of course, I'm angry.  I mean, the bitch used me.  And now I'm stuck without a..."  
    The voice cut off, and Lisa struggled to hear something to tell her what was happening.
   
    "What the hell?"  The voice sounded both confused and angry.  "My key-card isn't working...  Son of a bitch!  I'm on the wrong floor.  I got off on the wrong floor.  I swear, what else could go wrong today?  Guy, I'm this close to..."  
   
    Again, the voice cut off.
   
    After a bit, the voice came back.  "Dude, I'm going to have to call you back."  His voice sounded calmer this time.  Again, he went silent.
   
    This time, the silence made Lisa nervous.  She listened carefully, but could hear nothing to indicate what the man was doing.  As the silence went on, her anxiety increased.
   
    A sudden nervous laugh came out of the silence.  It sounded like it came from right behind her, and Lisa jumped in spirit even if she couldn't in body.  She felt her head being lifted and, a second later, she had a face to go with the voice.
   
    He was younger than she expected, maybe about twenty.  Slightly chubby, he had a bushy head of brown hair that could use a trim.  He looked at her with clear blue eyes through a pair of rimless glasses.  His expression was one of open curiosity, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
   
    Unable to do anything else, Lisa stared up at the young man, who continued to stare back.  After about a minute, his scrutiny started to bother her, and she fell back on her natural defense; sarcasm.  Hey, there, big boy.  Come here often?
   
    The young man's expression suddenly changed from curiosity to consideration.  For a second Lisa wondered if he had heard her somehow.  Of course, she realized, that was impossible.  Something else was going through the young man's mind.  And that just made her more nervous.
   
    He started to nod slowly, as he continued to think.  "Yeah," he said quietly to himself.
   
    No, Lisa thought back at him.
   
    "Yeah," he said again, getting a bit more excited.
   
    Really, no, Lisa thought again, getting more upset.
   
    "This could be just what I need to get back in the game," the young man told himself.
   
    Oh shit!
   
    The young man looked around nervously, as if to make sure that no one was watching.  Then, he pulled Lisa free from the couch.
   
    Please, don't do this, Lisa begged him silently.
   
    Her plea went unheeded as she could see him shrug a backpack off his shoulder.  He held her up for a second, taking in her entire deflated form.  Then, he folded her up and stuffed her into the backpack.  With a last look around, he threw the pack back over his shoulder and headed for the elevator.
   
              -----   -----   -----
   
    "WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE ISN'T THERE?"
   
    Chris had to pull the phone away from his ear to keep Anne's shout from shattering his eardrum.  When he was sure it was safe, he put it back.  "Just what I said," he answered.  "I found her phone and her robe, but Lisa's not here."
   
    "She has to be there," Anne insisted.  "She told me she'd be there."
   
    "I know she did," he agreed.  "And obviously, she tried.  Something must have gone wrong."
   
    "What?"
   
    "I don't know," he admitted.  "But she's not here, so..."
   
    "You've got to find her, Chris!" Anne blurted out.
   
    You think? he thought, keeping the sarcasm to himself.  He didn't see the need to add anger to Anne's emotional meltdown.  Instead, in a calm voice, he said, "Don't worry.  I intend to."
   
    "How?"
   
    "First, by staying calm," he told her.  
   
    "Okay."
   
    "Alright," he reasoned.  "How long ago was it that you talked to her."
   
    "A little over an hour ago," Anne replied.
   
    Chris nodded, though Anne couldn't see him do it.  "The convention's in full swing downstairs.  So, I doubt any guests would be up here right now.  That leaves hotel staff."
   
    "Housekeeping?" she suggested.
   
    "Maybe," he considered.  After a moment, he sighed.  "I guess it's as good a place as any to start."
   
    "What are you going to tell them?"
   
    "I'll just have to think of something," he replied.  "I'd better get down there now.  I'll call you back as soon as I know something else."
   
    "You'd better," she told him, her tone making it clear she meant it.
   
    Chris hung up and hurried to the door of his hotel room.  He practically threw Lisa's phone and robe in before locking it and heading for the elevator.
   
    Getting directions from a hotel staffer, Chris found that the quickest route to the housekeeping department would take him through the convention center.  The floor was crowded with people checking out the aisles of display booths, but he pushed on.  A couple of people recognized him, but he politely begged off answering questions about his latest book.
   
    He came to a crowded intersection and had to stop to let people pass.  Glancing both ways, he made sure the path was as clear as possible, then pushed through and continued toward the far side of the room.  But after only a few feet, he stopped dead in his tracks.  Slowly, he turned around and went back to the intersection.  He stopped and looked down one of the side aisles.
   
    There, floating above the heads of the crowd, was a blow-up doll.  Someone had filled it with helium, dressed it in a costume, and tied it above their booth.  From where he was, Chris couldn't get a clear look at the doll's face, but could tell that it had blonde hair instead of Lisa's light brown.  Still, it was too much of a coincidence for him to ignore.  So, he headed down the aisle for a closer look.
   
    The crowd made it slow going to get to the booth, so Chris had time to check out the doll before he got there.  It was dressed in a green mini-dress with long, puffy sleeves and a skirt so short that it barely covered its butt.  A matching panty kept you from seeing any of the "naughty bits", but a plunging square neckline revealed quite a bit of latex cleavage.  A white gun belt, complete with holstered ray-gun, pulled the dress tight at the waist.  Green boots that came to the middle of its calves finished out the doll's ensemble.
   
    As he got closer, Chris realized that the doll's blonde hair was actually a wig.  It had shifted slightly off center as the doll bobbed at the end of the string that kept it from floating away.  Encouraged, Chris tried to get a better look at the doll's face as it rotated in his direction.  A moment later, he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Lisa's familiar brown eyes painted on its latex surface.
   
    Now, I just have to figure out how to get her back.
   
    Chris moved to one side of the aisle to consider his options.  He figured he could just make a grab for her, but he doubted that he'd get very far on the crowded convention floor.  Offering to buy her was always a possibility, but that would most likely involve some haggling, which would only get him into more trouble with his wife.  But, it still seemed like the best option, so he headed for the booth.
   
    As he approached, a pair of young girls stopped at the booth and looked up at Lisa.  The guy sitting behind the table sat forward with an excited look.  But a moment later, the girls left, shaking their heads and giggling between themselves.  The guy sat back with a disappointed sigh.  A few more people came by, but all just looked up at the doll, laughed and moved on.
   
    As he walked up to the booth, the guy didn't even look up.  Ignoring Lisa for the time being, Chris checked out the stack of books on the table.  They were all the same issue of an obviously self-published comic book.  The painted cover showed a blonde girl dressed in the same costume as Lisa.  She stood in a defensive pose, her ray-guy out and ready.  In the background, a large one-eyed monster was approaching, brandishing several long tentacles.
   
    "Galaxy Girl," Chris read, as he picked up one of the books and started thumbing through it.
   
    "Yeah," the guy said, looking up with tired eyes.  "It's a retro..."  He stopped as he caught sight of Chris.  "Oh my god!" he practically shouted.  "Do you know who you are?"
   
    Chris smiled.  "I have a pretty good idea, yeah."
   
    The guy stood up, reaching out his hand.  "I've read both of your books, Mr. Harris," he said, as Chris shook his hand.  "They were great."
   
    "Thanks.  And it's Chris..."  He glanced back down at the cover of the book.  "...Roger?"
   
    "Yeah," the guy nodded.  "That's me.  Artist and writer.  And editor.  And publisher."
   
    Chris grinned.  "Been there.  Done that.  Well, except for the artist part.  There's a reason I went into prose fiction.  Your art is very good, though," he went on, thumbing through the book.  "Very, VERY good, in fact.  I see a lot of influences here."
   
    "Thanks," Roger blushed.  "I wish I could say the same about the writing."
   
    "Comes with time," Chris told him.  "Don't give up."
   
    Roger sighed.  "Might not have a choice.  I've busted my bank account just getting these few copies printed up.  Then there was the trip out here and all.  I was hoping one of the independent publishers would see it and offer me a deal, but so far nothing."
   
    "Well," Chris said, glancing up at Lisa for the first time, "you've certainly picked an unique way of promoting it."
   
    Roger followed his look.  "Yeah," he agreed with a short laugh, "seemed like a good idea at the time.  But all it's gotten me is strange looks and giggles."
   
    Chris looked away from his wife.  "Well, you've got to admit..."
   
    "Yeah, I know.  I'm honestly surprised the organizers have let me get away with it."  He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.  "I was supposed to have a live model, but she bailed on me."
   
    That got Chris's attention.  "Really?  Why?"
   
    "Found a better deal," Roger explained looking away.  "These guys a few aisle over have this new 'warrior princess' book.  Already been picked up by a publisher, and claim they've got a small movie company looking at it.  That's all Bev had to hear.  She was off at a shot.  Threw herself all over them.  She's modeling for them now."
   
    "Well, that stinks," Chris said.
   
    "Tell me about it," Roger sighed.  "The cost of her ticket and hotel room were the final nails in my funding.  If I don't get something out of this trip, I'm done."
   
    Chris watched as Roger dropped back into his chair, obviously disillusioned.  He really wanted to help the guy out.  He knew how hard it was to get started in the writing business.  But he couldn't ignore the fact that his wife was floating above his head at the end of  a string.  
   
    "Look, Roger," he said slowly.  "I know you're had a tough day, but I really need to discuss something with you."
   
    Roger looked up at him.  "Yeah?" he asked with an expression that said "now what".
   
    Chris leaned in so he could keep his voice low.  "Well, I kind of doubt that you brought a blow-up doll with you as a back-up plan.  In fact, I can honestly say I know you didn't."
   
    Roger's expression changed from "now what" to "uh-oh".
   
    "If I had to guess," Chris went on, "I'd say that you found he... um, it, didn't you?"
   
    "Uh..."
   
    "Up on the eighth floor, perhaps."
   
    "How..."  Roger looked like he was ready to run.
   
    "Calm down," Chris said with a smile.  "I'm not trying to get you into trouble or anything.  Believe me, the last thing I want to do is have anyone find out about this."
   
    "It's yours?" Roger whispered to him.
   
    Chris nodded.  "A gag gift from my wife."
   
    Roger looked confused.  "Why was it out in the hall?"
   
    Why was it out in the hall? Chris repeated to himself.  "Part of the gag," he said quickly.  "My wife put it out there.  I was supposed to find it when I came back to the room from my panel earlier today."
   
    "I don't get it."
   
    "Honestly, neither do I," Chris admitted.  "But you'd have to know my wife.  That woman has some weird ideas about humor, trust me."  Yeah, he was going to pay for that one.
   
    "So what?" Roger asked.  "You want it back?"
   
    "Kinda, yeah."
   
    Roger sighed.  "Of course."  He got back up and started to pull Lisa down by the string.  "I'll just go and take off the costume and bring it back to you."  Chris watched as he untied Lisa.  "I'll be right back," he said, heading off.
   
    Chris waited, filling a little awkward standing in front of unmanned booth.  People continued to come by, but few even gave the books on the table so much as a glance.  He really felt bad for Roger.  The guy was a really talented artist.  He just needed to catch a break.
   
    A few minutes later, Roger came back and handed Chris a large paper bag with handles on it.  "Here you go," he said.  "I didn't figure you wanted to seen walking through the hotel carrying it, so..."
   
    Chris glanced into the bag and found Lisa deflated and folded up inside.  "Yeah," Chris replied with a slight smile.  He knew that Lisa wouldn't have been happy about that one either.  "Well, thanks."
   
    "Yeah," Roger said, moving back into his booth to flop back down in his chair.  "See ya."
   
    Chris watched the guy for a second.  "Sure," was the only thing he could think to say.  But as he started to walk away, Chris stopped and turned back.  "Look, I know this hasn't been your day, so how about I make it up to you."
   
    "How?"
   
    "I'm not doing anything tomorrow," Chris told him.  "What would you say if I offered to come down here and sit at your booth?  I'd even be willing to sign copies of your comic for people."
   
    Roger's face lit up.  "You'd do that?"
   
    "Sure."
   
    "Why?"
   
    Chris just shrugged.  "Been there.  Done that," he said again.
   
    Roger's grin got wider.  "That would be great."
   
    "Then it's settled," Chris grinned back.  "I'll see you here around ten."  He reached down and picked up a copy of Roger's comic.  "How much?"
   
    "Take it," Roger told him.  "It's the least I can do."
   
    "Thanks," Chris nodded, slipping the comic into the bag with his wife.  "See you tomorrow."
   
              -----   -----   -----
   
    "Yeah, yeah," Lisa said into her phone.  "Laugh it up.  Me and Chris should be there in a couple of days.  See you then."  She disconnected and tossed her phone into her purse.  "I swear. When I get home, I'm turning that girl into a ball and going bowling."
   
    "She really was worried about you when you were missing," Chris said, thumbing through the comic.
   
    "I'd be careful about taking her side there, buddy," Lisa told him, pointing a finger.  "I still owe you for that 'weird humor' comment."  She slid into bed next to him.  "Is that Roger's book?"
   
    "Yup," he said, passing it over.  "It's really not that good story wise.  But the art is fantastic."
   
    "I can see that," Lisa said, looking at the painted cover.
   
    "Soon as I can, I'm going to give my publisher a call.  See if I can get Roger some work doing book covers or something."
   
    "That would be good," she agreed, handing him the book back.  "He seemed like a really nice guy."
   
    "Even if he did put you on display like a Macy's balloon?"
   
    Lisa snuggled closer.  "Believe me.  When I think of what he could have done to me..."
   
    Chris's face grew serious.  "Yeah.  We're going to have to be a lot more careful with the wand.  Especially if we take it on trips."
   
    "Really?" Lisa scoffed, pulling away from him.  "Is that why I look like something from a Russ Meyer movie?"  She gave her chest a shake to illustrate her point.
   
    Chris grinned, enjoying the sight of his wife's "Double D's" swaying in his face.  When he had gotten Lisa back to their room, he'd quickly used the wand to restore her.  After that, they'd spent a couple of hours relieving the tension that the day's events had created.  Then, rather than risk a repeat of those events, it was decided to change Lisa again so that she'd be fully back to normal by the next day.
   
    "I just thought," he joked, "that it would be a lot safer if you were something that could move.  You know.  Just in case you decided to lock yourself out of the room again."
   
    "And the fact that you could play with them had nothing to do with it?"
   
    "Well," he admitted, "it might have influenced my choice a bit."
   
    "Uh-huh," she said with a cocked eyebrow.  "Well, maybe I'd like something to play with, too."  She reached across his body for the wand resting on the table beside the bed.
   
    "Whoa there, girlie," he said, grabbing her hand.  "As much as I'd like to play 'wand games' with you, I don't have twelve hours to spare.  Don't forget that I've got to meet up with Roger in the morning."
   
    Lisa looked disappointed, but she pulled back to her side of the bed.  She snuggled back up against her husband.  "Do you think it'll do him any good?"
   
    "Probably not," Chris admitted.  "His book is just too retro.  It's not what's in right now."
   
    "Even with a famous author endorsing it?"
   
    "That might help a bit," he replied.  "But fans of my books aren't necessarily big comic fans.  We'll probably get a little more attention, but not enough to get him published."
   
    "That's too bad," Lisa sighed.  "I wish I could do something to help."
   
    Chris laughed gently.  "I think you've done enough already.  Don't you?"
   
    Lisa just laid with her head on his chest.  "I guess so," she said softly.
   
              -----   -----   -----
   
    The next day went pretty much as Chris had predicted.  A few people that were familiar with his books stopped by the booth.  And they sold a few with his autograph on it.  But no publishers took any real interest or made any offers.
   
    After a couple of hours, Roger turned to Chris.  "Well, I guess that's it."
   
    "You sure?" Chris asked him.  "We still have a few hours before the convention shuts down."
   
    "Maybe so," Roger nodded.  "But who am I kidding?  No one's interested in a retro sci-fi book."  
   
    He looked across the convention floor.  Chris turned to see what had gotten his attention.  In the distance, he could see a crowd around a particular booth.  He couldn't see what was drawing the crowd, but he had his suspicions.
   
    "Maybe if Bev had stuck with me," Roger confirmed for him.
   
    "Maybe," Chris confirmed with a sigh.  "Look, Rog..."
   
    "Hey, fellas," a voice cut in.  Chris turned to see Lisa, back to her normal dimensions, standing in front of the booth.  "How's it going?"
   
    "Hi, Honey," he said, getting up and going around the table to give her a quick kiss.  He turned back to his new friend.  "Roger, this is my wife, Lisa."
   
    "A pleasure to meet you, Roger," Lisa greeted, holding out her hand.  "Chris, has told me so..."
   
    She stopped as Roger made no effort to take her hand.  Instead, he just stared at her was a curious expression.  It went on for a bit.  Lisa started to look uncomfortable, so Chris decided to step in.
   
    "Uh, Roger," he said, getting the other man's attention.  "You're staring at my wife."
   
    The statement seemed to shake the young man out of his stupor.  "Oh," he stammered, turning back to Lisa.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  It's just that..."  He hesitated, and Chris noticed that Lisa started to blush.  "You know what?" Roger went on.  "Nevermind.  Nice to meet you, Lisa."  He took her offered hand, and they shared an awkward shake.  
   
    "So, Roger," Lisa said, as they let go, "Chris tells me you could use a model."