The Icelandic Canadian - 01.02.2007, Side 42

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THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Vol. 60 #4
Alice
by Kristin Frederickson
The most prominent symbol of child-
hood is my favourite stuffy. A bead-stuffed
rabbit lovingly deemed “Alice,” who had
obviously seen better days, Alice was now
old and slightly worse for the wear. She
had long arms and legs, and was covered in
thick grey fur. A product of years of being
hauled around to various schools, sleep-
overs, and family gatherings, Alice’s fur
now formed short little circular clumps.
This fur was coarse on every inch of the
bunny except on her ears, where it was still
out-of-the-box soft. Alice had once been a
collectors item, named “Cinthia” by her
creators. A tag on her left leg announced
that she was a product of “The Boyds
Collection Ltd., 1985-94”. Given as a
birthday present by an affectionate sister,
Cinthia had been instantly ripped from
packaging, renamed, and held in a grip that
would never let go. Back then she had had
soft, even, white fur, and sported a red
bow. Now, years later, she was bowless
and grey. Alice had 6 whiskers made of
clear plastic, all of which were bent and
looked as if they had been chewed by a
dog. She had black bead eyes that held a
surprisingly large amount of personality
for eyes so small. To a small child, those
eyes were human eyes, capable of showing
an entire spectrum of emotion. On her
right leg and right arm she had two 2 inch
long stitches, scars produced by too much
love. The two limbs felt empty and flimsy
to the touch, due to the bead loss that
occurred pre-stitching. Alice had the kind
of smell that reminded one of their grand-
parents’ attic; musty, dark, reminiscent of
dust. At one time Alice had known how to
talk, and she would have long intellectual
conversations with anyone who would lis-
ten. These days though, no one listened,
and her place in the world had changed
from a warm spot curled up next to a sleep-
ing child to sitting upright and stiff on a
cold teenager’s shelf.