Donny: The Lonely Toy Repairman

Upon entering the shop, I am greeted by a very rough, scratchy voice bellowing, "What do ye want? Any o' yer toys fer me to fix up?" The voice belongs to none other than the Bori who refers to himself as Donny. He approaches me slowly, his lantern tightly gripped in his hand as he acts a bit finicky over any quick movement. His fur is a crimson red, knotted, and looks as though it has been unwashed or cared for, for many moons.

After a few moments of silence during which I am taking in the appearance of one of the most mysterious creatures I have personally ever encountered, I was brought back to reality as Donny had a short coughing fit, and dust along with small toy gadgets fell to the ground which seemed to come from somewhere deep within his thick untamed fur.

"Hi... Donny," I manage to quietly speak, in a shaking voice brought on by my nerves. Nobody has ever been to known to have an actual conversation with him, and that is exactly what I am after.

"Well," he says, "Have ye got somethin' fer me to fix up o' ye just wastin' me valuable time?"

Caught off guard by his rugged voice and thick accent, I stumble backwards while saying, "Actually, I was hoping we could just, you know, talk for a bit. You are so mysterious and I would like nothing more than to get to know you a bit better."

He quickly looks up from the piles of unorganized papers on the front desk and stares me right in the eye for what must be a full minute. "Huh," he murmurs under his breath while slowly sitting down. "Ye want to be talkin' to me? Ye sure?"

I take a few steps towards his desk where he was now sitting, not breaking the stare he had initiated and say, "Yes, I would like nothing more."

Donny shakes his head, stands up and quickly walks to the front door of the store and flips over the sign so it reads "Closed." He then continues on to bring a chair over to where I was still standing and prompts me to sit while he says, "Well, ye might be here fer a while, might as well take a load off ye feet. Get on with it, then."

The first question I ask him is simple. "Alright, Donny," I say with a smile spreading across my face as I am unable to contain my excitement of getting to know one of Neopia's most mysterious members. "Where do you come from?"

He chuckles a bit, which throws him into another quick coughing fit, and he reaches out for his glass of water, taking a long drink before he answers, "Well, ye see, I've been from a bit o' everywhere. I traveled fer the most o' me life, that is until I came across this here Mountain. This is me home now."

I nod throughout the time he talks, letting him know I am interested and attentive. Completely enthralled by the way he speaks, I forget to ask my next question as a hefty amount of seconds pass by. He lowers his gaze to meet my eyes, and grins when he saw the embarrassment flush over my cheeks.

"Maybe he's not really as sour as everyone thinks," I think to myself, before rushing into my next question. "Right, well, what made you settle down on Terror Mountain? It really is not the most ideal place to live, is it?" I ask in a bold tone.

He drums his fingers on the table and rocks back in his chair a bit, seeming to be pondering exactly what it is about Terror Mountain that has kept him as a resident for so long... "The question is easy," he says, breaking through the thoughts spinning in my head. "Terror Mountain is me home. It is the only place that has ever been me home. It is a busy place up here ye know... the garage sale, shop of mystery and much more. Not too many wander o'er to me cozy hut even if I am the only one in Neopia that will fix yer toys. I can go about me work quickly and quietly, I work me best when I am alone. And, I am rather fond of the cold."

I listen to his words carefully, still lost in his mysterious accent, but manage to follow along his brilliantly spoken words and launch right into my next question, "So, Donny," I lean back in my chair and fold my hands in my lap while I look up to the ceiling, thinking up the perfect way to ask exactly what is on my mind, "like you said, you are the only one in the whole of Neopia that fixes toys, everyone knows this, but why do you do it? What has made you want to fix toys for others?"

Donny sighs, looks down at the floor, and fidgets in his seat for a few minutes making it clear that the question I just asked is quite a touchy subject for the poor old Bori. He continues moving around in his chair, rubs his hands over his face, and begins to speak. "Ye see. Me papa," he starts, as he slowly slips his hands away from his face, "Me papa, he never let me have the shiny new toys. Me family was caught in tough times, there were no neopoints fer us to buy nice toys. We only could afford the dirty, torn, ripped, and broken toys... the toys Neopians like yerself seek to get rid of, or bring fer me to fix." He sinks down in his chair a bit before continuing on, "I fix the toys ye Neopians bring to me, so none of ye have to be without the toys I was denied of when I was just a wee little lad. I want to create happiness fer all of Neopia."

I stare at him intently, knowing what he has just told me, surely there is no other Neopian who has ever heard this, or known this side of Donny. He certainly is not as sour as one may make him out to be. "Donny," I say in a shaky voice, emotional over the empowering story I have just heard, "your story is amazing, and I speak on behalf of Neopia as a whole when I say we very much appreciate all the hard work you put into fixing up our toys to the best your ability."

Donny stands up from the desk, comes around to the side where I am sitting, grabs my hand and holds it between his own. "Thank ye," he speaks softly, a single tear forming in his eye, "Thank ye fer taking the time to speak to a lonely old Bori such as myself, and getting to know me and listening to me stories."

I stand up slowly, keeping my hand between his and speak quietly with a shaking voice, "It was my pleasure. You really are an amazing Neopian."

He takes his hand back and puts it across my shoulder and guides me over to the door and flips the sign to read "Open" once more. He opens the door and a gust of cold wind blows the snow against our feet and floor of the hut. "Now ye best be gettin' out of here. I got work piled up higher than this mountain," he says, while giving me a quick wink and patting me on the back. I walk out the door and quickly turn around to give him a quick goodbye wave and notice him sporting one of the brightest smiles I have ever seen in my day.

I begin my journey down the mountain as my head spins trying to carefully remember the stories I had just heard. Donny is in fact one of the most mysterious creatures of Neopia, and while he comes off as sour to many, if you took the time to talk to him for just a short while, you would gather that he is one of the kindest souls in the whole world of Neopia. Today I learned that there is much more to Donny and his repair shop than what meets the eye, and I hope you all will go pay Donny a visit and let him spill his marvelous stories upon your listening ears.