Pilgrim loved accompanying its witch on journeys, but not any more than your everyday doll. Why shouldn’t a doll be happy, brimming with Purpose, to be so indispensable to its witch that she insisted on giving up valuable luggage space to bring it along? Especially on a flight. Pilgrim took up most of the space in Miss Zephyr’s carry-on bag.
It was great fun, flying. Miss was always so stressed, but Pilgrim enjoyed going through security, being x-rayed, observing the curious looks of the security angels as they peeked in. Pilgrim would stay very Still because only Still dolls could travel as luggage. Fidgety dolls needed at least child tickets on most airlines. One had to be Still so as to stay in overhead storage the whole flight. Pilgrim adored overhead storage. This, it was convinced, was the way to travel.
Then when the flight was over and they were wherever they were staying, Zephyr would unpack it and make love to it on the bed, saying “good doll… good doll… good doll.” This was the primary reason Pilgrim was brought along.
Pilgrim didn’t know what to think when it learned Zephyr meant to take another doll on her next flight: Courage, a doll of cotton and stuffing, that had become a new favorite of their witch. Unseemly jealousy rippled in Pilgrim’s heart–of course Courage was the better travel doll, it could be squished in any old bag and half its clothes besides—until Pilgrim realized that Zephyr meant to take them both. It felt better still when Courage confided that it was indeed very anxious about travel, particularly air travel. Pilgrim offered to take it under its wing, so to say.
However, adding a new doll into the mix complicated things. The first complication came before they even left. Zephyr thought Courage could easily squish into her usual carry-on bag with Pilgrim, but with both dolls the bag would not zip shut anymore. Zephyr did not have time to get another bag–packing the dolls had been left to the last minute as usual–and her solution was to have both dolls strip down to their undergarments, and to disassemble Pilgrim, so that its limbs could be positioned freely. The clothes were added to the checked luggage, and Pilgrim and Courage were zipped up together, Courage’s face pressed companionably in Pilgrim’s neck.
As they rode in the cab to the airport, Miss must have stopped paying attention because the bag next to her fell sideways. Pilgrim felt Courage’s soft weight on its torso. Courage squeaked out, “pretty confined, huh. One gets used to it, that one said?”
“Yes,” Pilgrim whispered, though it had never been this tight, it had never been disassembled like this. It actually felt rather unsettled, not being able to feel its arms or legs, much less move them. Vulnerable. The cab lurched, and the dolls tumbled from the backseat to the floor. Courage gave a soft, muffled cry. “Hush now,” Pilgrim said. “Traveling dolls must keep quiet.” It was a bit rattled though. If it had more space and the use of its limbs, it knew it could have thrown its weight in the other direction and maybe prevented the fall. Zephyr came to the rescue though, picking them up and holding them in her lap, apologizing under her breath.
At the airport, everything went smoothly until they got to the security checkpoint. Usually the TSA Angel was content to just peek in the bag to confirm that the doll it saw on the X Ray was sufficiently Still. But there was such a confusing mass of limbs, the Angel insisted on taking everything out and spreading it all over the table. “Keep Still,” Pilgrim whispered to Courage, as the bag began to unzip. Pilgrim could feel Courage’s tiny cloth heart pounding against its own chest.
A crowd of travelers lingered, watching piece by piece of the plastic ball joint doll emerge from the backpack. Courage stayed as Still as possible but could not stop itself from trembling in fear as it lay face up on the table where the Angel left it. A child pointed it out “Mommy why doesn’t that dolly have clothes?” “Well, sweetie, dolls don’t always have to wear clothes.” “I wish I didn’t have to wear clothes.” Courage was mortified. Pilgrim was not exempt. “Mommy why isn’t that dolls arms and legs attached?” “Don’t you people have planes to catch?” Zephyr hissed, her voice crackling with wrath. The questions stopped.
The Angel had all of Pilgrim’s parts sorted out on the table and it was just staring at them, a faint blush on its cheeks growing stronger.
“Excuse me,” Zephyr said to the angel. “Is there a problem? Are you done ogling my dolls? May I pack them up again?”
The Angel hesitated, considering insisting on a cavity search. Something in Zephyr’s tone discouraged it, though. “Very well,” it said. “Pack up thy dolls. May thy travels be swift and safe, good pilgrims.”
Zephyr stuffed everything back into her bag and rushed to her gate. “G-goodness,” Courage said, its voice coming from the bottom of the bag where its head had been unceremoniously stuck.
Pilgrim struggled to regain its composure. Courage’s sewn lips were – there – pressed against Pilgrim’s underwear, pressed right up against the place that belonged to Miss. “It’s not usually like that,” Pilgrim explained, realizing that its own head was between Courage’s legs. Oh dear. Hopefully when they got to the gate, Miss would peek in and rearrange them–but as soon as they got to the gate they were already boarding and Miss got in line and then they were on the plane!
“It will get much better now,” Pilgrim said, wishing it was the kind of doll who could speak without moving its lips, because the friction seemed to be provoking some sort of unwanted response in Courage.
“It-It will?” Courage asked.
“Overhead storage,” Pilgrim explained. It was just so nice, being tucked away, in between other carry on bags, above Miss and the other passengers, listening to the flight attendants–dolls, usually–walking up and down the aisles with their trays of food. It wanted to explain this, but it daren’t say anything else because it could feel something hardening against its cheek, along with Courage’s hot breath near its dollparts.
Which was bad. Dolls didn’t have to breathe, but if they did, it was a sign that–Pilgrim was panting a bit itself.
Miss must have found her seat, because they were being hoisted up into the overhead compartment–but they wouldn’t slide in. Pilgrim felt luggage bashing against its head on either side, there just wasn’t space. “Miss, let this one help you. Let this one find a place for that bag,” came the voice of a doll and Pilgrim wanted to scream “no! how dare you!” and could feel Courage tensing up.
“Oh, um, thank you,” said Zephyr, a touch anxious, as she handed over the bag. They were whisked away by the attendant, who attempted to shove them in three more overhead compartments before returning to Zephyr with the bad news.
“This one is so sorry, miss. It’s a full flight, the compartments are full and there isn’t any space for your bag. This one can offer to check it for you, free of charge. This one will make sure it is very well looked after.”
Zephyr was silent for a moment. “I–okay, then.” She sounded disappointed. “I will be reunited with my luggage after the flight, and it will behave very well.”
“Um, of course, Miss,” said the attendant. “This one will get this checked for you right now, so the flight can get underway and you can be reunited with your luggage as soon as possible.”
So Pilgrim and Courage were brought down to the cargo hold.
In the midst of being thrown around with the checked baggage, Courage’s little appendage worked its way out of its underwear. Squished under so many other bags, Pilgrim felt like the considerate thing to do would be to allow it to occupy the empty space within its mouth. No sense making the poor thing more uncomfortable than it already must be. Courage seemed grateful and did its best to rub its face against the growing wet spot on Pilgrim’s underwear, which somehow over the course of the flight worked itself entirely off.
Though the witch usually waited until getting to the hotel room to open the carry-on bag which held her doll cargo, this time, anxious to confirm her dolls were okay, she opened it at baggage claim, in the midst of all of the other travelers claiming their bags.
Pilgrim spit out Courage’s dick. “Miss!” it cried. “Miss!” came Courage’s muffled cry from the bottom of the bag. They were very happy to see her.
“Ah,” said Zephyr. She was happy to see them as well. “Let’s get to the hotel room and get you two cleaned up.”