The Book Of Lost Things

“Riiight,” said David. He wasn’t certain what a metaphorical chain was, exactly. In fact, David wasn’t entirely sure what the dwarfs were talking about at all. Still, there were seven of them altogether, which seemed about right.

“Do you have names?” asked David.

“Names?” said the first dwarf. “Names? Course we have names. I”-he gave a little, self-important cough-“am Comrade Brother Number One. These are Comrade Brothers Numbers Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Eight.”

“What happened to Seven?” asked David.

There was an embarrassed silence.

“We don’t talk about Former Comrade Brother Number Seven,” said Comrade Brother Number One, eventually. “He has been officially excised from the Party’s records.”

“He went to work for his mum,” explained Comrade Brother Number Three, helpfully.

“A capitalist!” spit Brother Number One.

“A baker,” Brother Number Three corrected him.

He stood on his tiptoes and whispered to David. “We’re not allowed to talk to him now. We can’t even eat his mum’s buns, not even the day-old ones that she sells for half price.”

“I heard that,” said Brother Number One. “We can make our own buns,” he added huffily. “Don’t need buns made by a class traitor.”

“No we can’t,” said Brother Number Three. “They’re always hard, and then she complains.”

Instantly, the dwarfs’ relative good humor disappeared. They picked up their tools and prepared to leave.

“Got to be on our way,” said Brother Number One. “Pleasure to have met you, comrade. Er, you are a comrade, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so,” said David. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to risk getting into another fight with the dwarfs. “Can I still eat buns if I’m a comrade?”

“As long as they’re not baked by Former Comrade Brother Number Seven-”

“Or his mum,” added Brother Number Three sarcastically.

“-you can eat anything you like,” concluded Brother Number One, as he raised a finger of warning to Brother Number Three.

The dwarfs started marching back down the ditch on the other side of the road, following a rough trail that led into the trees.

“Excuse me,” said David. “I don’t suppose I could stay with you for the night, could I? I’m lost, and very tired.”

Comrade Brother Number One paused.

“She won’t like it,” said Brother Number Four.

“Then again,” said Brother Number Two, “she’s always complaining that she has nobody to talk to. Might put her in a good mood to see a new face.”

“A good mood,” said Brother Number One wistfully, as though it was a wonderful flavor of ice cream that he’d tasted a long, long time ago. “Right you are, comrade,” he said to David. “Come with us. We’ll see you straight.”

David was so happy he could have skipped.

While they walked, David learned a little more about the dwarfs. At least, he thought that he might be learning more about them, but he didn’t quite catch everything he was being told. There was a lot of stuff about “workers’ ownership of the methods of production” and “the principles of the Second Congress of the Third Committee” but not the Third Congress of the Second Committee, which had apparently ended in a fight over who was going to wash the cups afterward.

David had some idea of who “she” might be as well, but it seemed polite to check, just in case.

“Does a lady live with you?” he asked Brother Number One.

The buzz of conversation from the other dwarfs instantly ceased.

“Yes, unfortunately,” said Brother Number One.

“All seven of you?” David continued. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something slightly odd about a woman who lived with seven little men.

“Separate beds,” said the dwarf. “No funny business.”

“Gosh, no,” said David. He tried to wonder what funny business the dwarf could be referring to, then decided that it might be better not to think about it. “Er, her name wouldn’t be Snow White, would it?”

Comrade Brother Number One stopped suddenly, causing a minor pileup of comrades behind him.

“She’s not a friend of yours, is she?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh no, not at all,” said David. “I’ve never met the lady. I might have heard about her, that’s all.”

“Huh,” said the dwarf, apparently satisfied, and started walking again. “Everybody’s heard of her: ‘Ooooh, Snow White who lives with the dwarfs, eats them out of house and home. They couldn’t even kill her right.’ Oh yes, everybody knows about Snow White.”

“Er, kill her?” asked David.

“Poisoned apple,” said the dwarf. “Didn’t go too well. We underestimated the dose.”

“I thought it was her wicked stepmother who poisoned her,” said David.

“You don’t read the papers,” said the dwarf. “Turned out the wicked stepmother had an alibi.”

“We should really have checked first,” said Brother Number Five. “Seems she was off poisoning someone else at the time. Chance in a million, really. It was just bad luck.”

Now it was David’s turn to pause. “So you mean you tried to poison Snow White?”

“We just wanted her to nod off for a while,” said Brother Number Two.

“A very long while,” said Number Three.

“But why?” said David.