Ophelia’s knock at the door of Blasted Heath Cottage was
answered by Doris, one of the three haggard old crones who had a reputation in
those parts for preparing strange concoctions in their cauldron and issuing
misleading advice to passers-by.
“Do come in”, said Doris. “We’ve just made up a new brew in
the cauldron and we’d love you to sample it, just to see what effect it has”.
Ophelia gladly accepted the first invitation, but declined
the second.
“What can we do for you?” asked Mabel who, if anything, was
even more gaunt and haggard than Doris. “As you know, our advice can always be
trusted. We always speak at least one version of the truth, although not
necessarily the one that will do you most good.”
“That’s a chance I’ll have to take”, said Ophelia, “but it’s
not really advice I’m after”.
“What is it then?” said the third crone, Alice, who was just
visible through the smoke from the cauldron. “You don’t want our advice and
refuse to sample our new potion, but you must want something? Old bitches like
us don’t feature very highly on most people’s lists of folks to drop by on for
a jolly little chat.”
“I want an idea,” said Ophelia. “I’m going round everyone I
know because Hamlet has started a new writing group at Elsinore Castle - it
meets in the library every Friday morning – and he’s set us a challenge that
has left me baffled.”
“In what way?” asked Doris.
“The theme he’s set is ‘Things That Bounce’, and I really
don’t know what he’s on about.”
“Balls”, said Alice.
“There’s no need to be rude”, said Ophelia. “I only asked.”
“Balls bounce”, said Alice. “Tennis balls, basketballs,
footballs …”
“Table tennis balls, volleyballs, even cricket balls”, Mabel
added. “They all bounce.”
“I know”, said Ophelia, “but that all sounds a bit too obvious,
and I’m not sure that I could write a decent story about table tennis balls or
any other sort. That’s why I’m looking for suggestions for other things that
bounce.”
“Fortunes”, said Doris. “They can go both up and down. Lots
of people have suffered loss of fortune and bounced back up again.”
“And how many people do we know to whom that’s happened?”
Ophelia asked. “Shylock pointed out to me that his fortune went in two
directions, but after it went down it hardly bounced back up again.”
“Reputations”, said Mabel. “They can bounce”.
“Same problem”, said Ophelia. “You should hear Othello go on
about reputation – you can’t stop him. But once his went through the floor
there was no upward bounce. All the “reputable” characters in his play ended up
dead.”
“So who else have you spoken to?” asked Doris. “Surely
someone must have an idea about what can bounce?”
“Well, I did have word with Falstaff”, said Ophelia. “He
thought I’d said ‘Thugs That Bounce’ and went on for hours about all the
gorillas that have ejected him from every club and pub in Windsor, London and
just about everywhere else. He’s far more deserving of the title “The Barred”
than our beloved creator.”
“I’ve got an idea”, said Alice, who was quietly stirring the
cauldron. “You see this alphabetti spaghetti? Just pick out all the letters you
need for ‘Things That Bounce’ and drop them into the cauldron”.
This puzzled Ophelia, but she did as she was asked and
selected the sixteen letters that made up the words of the title. She dropped
them into the steaming mess of the cauldron and was surprised to see that they
did not immediately dissolve. Alice moved her hands across the surface and
muttered an incantation. The letters promptly disappeared downwards.
“What’s happening?” asked Ophelia. “How does this help?”
“Don’t worry”, said Alice. “I may be a bitch but you can trust
my magic. I’ve put an anagram spell on the letters. They’ll bounce off the
bottom of the cauldron and re-appear in a different order. Just wait and see.”
Sure enough, a few seconds later the letters came back into
view, but this time they spelled out the words ‘Gaunt Honest Bitch’.
“That’s me”, said Alice. “That should give you an idea for
your story.”
“Thank you”, said Ophelia, “I think it has!”
© John Welford
