Dougal McGregor

The moment they were home, Minnie shed her boots and stockings, and ran barefoot across the grass of the McGonagall's backyard, reaching up to unpin her hair to let it hang wildly about her face, still crimped from having been braided and up all day. She stopped to pick some of the last strawberries of the season, fat plump red things that grew along the edge of the woods in the sun, stuffing her pockets with them and biting into one to test it. A bit bitter, but warm, and the juice ran down her chin so that she wiped it with her fist and the sleeve of her cardigan. She ran into the woods, picking her way a bit more carefully with her bare feet now, and finally made her way to the sloping side of a little stream, stepping over a log, past a small wood sign painted with a troll and the words GO AWAY, THIS IS OUR CLUBHOUSE in bold letters.

Dougal McGregor was there, his trousers rolled up over his knees, in the stream with a pail over his arm, his suspenders hanging at his waist and his oxford shirt sleeves rolled up. He was dirty and soaked and his red hair was ruffled and his freckles shone brightly against his pale skin as he swiveled the pail about in the water, aiming upstream.

Minerva sat on a big rock, tucking her legs beneath her, the green polka dot dress hanging over her knees. "Hullo Dougal," she said pleasantly, pulling one of the berries from her pocket. "Want a strawberry?"

"Hang on, I'm fishing," Dougal answered. "I'm going to catch us a salmon and we can fry it up and eat it for lunch."

"There's no salmon in our stream, silly," Minerva said. "Otherwise, there would be bears here, wouldn't there be?"

Dougal said, "I set up traps for the bears and they know it, so they don't dare come by here."

"Your bells and tin can traps don't scare bears, they'd come if there was salmon whether you set your traps or not," Minnie answered, rolling her eyes and biting into the largest, juiciest strawberry she'd found, the one she'd secretly picked just for Dougal. She was feeling spiteful, though, so now it was hers. She ate it right down to the little green stem and tossed that into the trees behind her.

"How did you rip your dress?" Dougal asked.

Minnie ran her hands over the torn fabric. "Trying to catch a puddy."

"Of course you were," Dougal said with a laugh. "Why'd I even ask? What sort was it this time?"

"Grey tabby. He got away. I was going to name him Walter, had I caught him. I would have, too, he was letting me pet him when I slipped."

"Fall on your face, did you?" Dougal asked.

"Right off the rafters but onto my feet. Malcolm was shouting at me, else I wouldn't ever have fallen. It's his fault, really. Robbie was shouting, too, but in that annoying little kid way, not in the way Malcolm was. He's such a know it all these days. He used to be so sweet. Why do they have to grow up?" she sighed heavily, like she was much older than ten-almost-eleven, and shook her head. Then, exasperated, "Children!"

"Tell me about it," Dougal answered, rolling his eyes. "Katie started Primary school this year and she's been following me about the hall in her infants uniform and all my classmates have been making fun of me for it. She's callin' me in the halls, Dou! Dou! Look at my drawing Dou, I learnt history today, Dou! Best be glad you go to that funny church school, else Malcolm and Robbie would be following you about the same as Katie does me!"

Minnie bit into another strawberry, "Malcolm knows I'd punch him if he bothered me like that." She chewed slowly.

"I'd punch Katie but me mam says I can't," Dougal said, rolling his eyes, "Says I musn't punch girls. I told her I punch you all the time and she said I musn't."

"I'd punch you if you didn't punch me, Dougal McGregor!" Minnie said. "I'd make you sorry if you treated me like a girl." She spat out the latest bite of berry - this one was far too tart - and she chucked the half-eaten thing into the woods.

Dougal finally gave up on the salmon fishing as a bad idea and waded back to the shore, throwing the pail down and getting dirt all stuck to his wet, bare feet. He crawled up onto the rock beside Minnie and scraped the dirt off his feet on the side of the rock before stretching out to let the sun dry him.

It was still very warm for late September, though Minnie was glad for her cardigan for there was a nip in the air that would have made her shiver otherwise. Dougal reached into his pocket and drew out a half a chocolate bar, which he broke in two and held out half to her. She took it and gave him some of her berries and they sat eating the sweets together, getting all sticky from the berry juice and talking with their mouths full.

"Ham got away again," Dougal said. Ham was Dougal's giant toad he'd caught back in August. Dougal kept the giant toad in a tank in his bedroom, but Ham was infamous for hopping out of the tank and about Dougal's room. Now and then, Ham would be found outside of Dougal's room, and this was when Dougal would say that he got away because it would be days before he'd figure out where in his family's cottage the toad had escaped to. Once, Ham had hopped all the way into the kitchen and scared the bejesus out of Mrs. McGregor and nearly been squashed by the broom before Dougal had got downstairs to rescue Ham from Mrs. McGregor's defensive tactics. Whenever Ham got away, Dougal worried about him 'til he'd found him again.

"That's why you should have cats instead of toads," Minerva told him. "Cats are so much easier to find."

"There aren't usually loads of stray cats just hanging about normal people," Dougal admonished her. "You're strange the way you seem to attract those cats, Min!" He shook his head, "Never saw a thing like it with nobody in all the world, aside of you."

"I think you're lying," she answered.

Dougal shook his head. "You're the only one."

It was true that Minerva had a strange way of seeming to attract cats to herself. Everywhere she went, cats just seemed to appear. They would come out of nowhere to rub on her leg in the village, and she always was finding cats and kittens in the woods and the barn. There were six that lived in her bedroom, much to Robert McGonagall's charinge. He was always complaining about all the cats that lay about on the shelves and the bed and the desk in Minnie's room, always complained about how she left her window open just enough they could go in and out as they pleased, how they sunbathed on the roof outside her bedroom window, and hissed when he went into Minnie's room. But Isobel always stood up for Minnie, making Robert let her keep her puddies, pointing out that the cats weren't hurting Robert any and they kept the mice out of the basement. If the worst that happened was they found a few saucers worth of milk had gone missing when Minnie gave them the treat of it, then that wasn't that terrible a nuisance, was it? And they kept Minnie happy and busy.

It wasn't so much the fact that the cats were there that bothered Robert McGonagall, though. It was more that his daughter often sat about holding conversations with them as though they could talk. And even that would be okay if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd asked her once, when she was much younger, why it was that she spoke to them as though they were answering her and she'd given him quite a confused look. "But they do answer me, Da," she'd said. She'd been given a spanking for lying, and sent to bed without supper that night.

Isobel had snuck into Minnie's room after Robert had gone to bed with a sandwich and some biscuits and told Minerva that it was important not to tell Daddy about such things as being able to talk to cats. "It's a special ability, Minnie," she'd told her quietly while she brushed her daughter's hair and Minnie ate the sandwich.

"Special?" Minnie had asked, "So you can't hear them talking, either?"

"No," Isobel had replied.

Minnie had worried she was mad at first and she'd stopped answering her puddies when they talked to her, but their feelings were hurt that she wouldn't say anything to them for a whole day and by the time she went to bed she'd cracked and whispered her apologies to them from her bed, tearful. Her favorite puddy, whose name was in fact Puddy, a thick grey-and-white beast with knobby knees and a bottle brush tail had nuzzled her and pressed his sandpaper tongue to her cheek, mewling that it was okay, he understood, but not to do it again.

She still talked to them, but only in private when nobody else was about to hear her.

She closed her eyes and lay back against the rock now, beside the stream with Dougal, the berries and chocolate gone. The sunshine roasted them and she smiled, enjoying it's warmth, as Dougal slid off the rock and took up his bucket to resume salmon fishing. Minnie listened to the sound of Dougal splashing about as she sprawled across the warm rock.

"I think it must be very sad to be an adult," she said suddenly, sitting up and looking at Dougal as he poised himself with the pail, looking into the clear water, waiting for salmon.

"Sad?" Dougal looked up. "Why on earth should it be sad?"

"You have to sit about and do adultish things all of the time," Minerva said. "Like sewing and talking of politics and work and the like." She frowned, "It seems like you lose your imagination and adventures stop happening. I should think the apocalypse had come if Da was down here playing in the stream like you are!"

Dougal replied, "I would hope it had. Your Da is scary, Min."

"He's not so bad."

"He always says I'm going to Hell," Dougal replied. "That's scary."

"He's just worried about you, that's all he means by it," Minerva said, "He just doesn't know how to say it in a nice way. Da's sort of stupid that way."

Dougal shrugged.

Suddenly there was a crashing in the trees and a little girl with flaming red hair - and so much of it that her head looked as though it were ablaze - peeked 'round their GO AWAY sign, peering down the hill at Minnie on her rock and Dougal in the stream. "Douuu?" the girl called, her bright green eyes shining.

Dougal looked up from his pail.

"Mammy is looking for you, Dou," the girl said, "She's sent me to fetch you."

Dougal sighed. "Bugger off Katie!" he said, waving his arm at her to go away. "Can't you read the sign?"

"I'm not in your stupid clubhouse," Katie said.

"Still too close. Go on and go away before I sic the troll on you!"

Katie squealed and ran away.

Minnie and Dougal laughed as her voice faded off among the rees.

Dougal got back out of the water, though, pouring out his pail again and gathered up his shoes and socks from where he'd thrown them down, grabbing them up so they hung from his fist by the laces. "I better be going, though, before Katie goes telling me mam that I'm not coming or something."

"Alright," Minnie said, sliding off the rock. The stream was boring if Dougal wasn't going to be there, too.

"See you about," Dougal promised. "Probably Saturday, then, on account of school and everything."

"Stupid school," Minnie murmured, shaking her head. She paused then. "Isn't there anything you wish to say to me now, then, if you think you won't see me until Saturday? Saturday the fifth?" she added pointedly.

Dougal stared at her a moment, "Umm..."

"About certain days?" Minnie pressed, "About Friday, specifically?"

Duogal's eyes widened, "Ohh your birthday! Happy early birthday, Minnie!" and he bent in and gave her a fast peck on the cheek, "May the best ye've ever seen be the worst ye ever see, may ye always be as happy as ye wish te'be!" he said in a regal tone.

Minnie grinned, "You're so funny."

"'Tis the birthday blessing, Min," Dougal said.

Minnie flushed.

"Bye, Min." Dougal grabbed up his pail and dashed away, his boots clunking together with the pail as he ran off through the trees.