Jamie walked into the bedroom, exhausted. It had been a long day, and he was feeling exhausted. Mandy had been having nightmares, keeping him awake, and the surgery was demanding longer hours, as a a senior doctor had retired and they had not yet found a suitable replacement. But he also knew thay it wasn't just work that was making him feel like this. The worry dolls were bothering Mandy, and if the truth was known they were bothering him too. He tried not to let it show, but the cracks in his facade were starting to become noticeable. Badly. Since the office manager Rob had found that one in the waiting room, even the surgery didn't seem safe from the little dolls. He kept on expecting them to show up on his desk, on the floor, in the filing cabinet, in the racks of sterilised surgical equipment. Yesterday, he had moved close to a patient to check her ears, and had a sudden vision of finding one lying there - malevolently - in the ear canal. Even though they were just little dolls - a child's entertainment, tiny, malformed little figurines with cheaply made outfits, they seemed imbued with evil. He had no idea how his brain could have made this leap. Surely, it was a case of a little girl having lost a group of them that they kept showing up. It couldn't possibly be anything more sinister than that. Could it?
--
The sun still held a fierce heat, despite the fact that it was already Autumn, and Winter was fast approaching. Alyssa used her hand to shield her face, the edge of it up against the brim of the baseball cap she was wearing. She peered into the light, trying to pick Luke out from the field of footballers. They all looked the same from here. She found herself wishing she'd brought a book with her, but then realised the glare would have made it unreadable anyway. She allowed herself to doze slightly, leaning back against the grandstand seats, the intense light creating red and purple swirling shapes on the backs of her eyelids. She was watching the shapes, daydreaming and trying not to think about her face burning in the sun, when she felt a kick between her shoulder blades. She opened her eyes, turned around, struggling to focus, and she heard a "sorry!" from the kicker as he sidled up the row behind her to sit with friends. She frowned, grumpy now, and wondered how long until the game ended.
She was properly asleep, head drooping, when Luke finally approached her and tapped her on the shoulder. She sat up, startled, and looked up at him with the eyes of a sleepy owl, as thought she couldn't quite work out where she was, or what he was doing there. Luke's face showed half a smile, like he had caught her doing something she shouldn't have been, which, in a way, he had. She smiled, sheepishly, "Did you win?"
Luke brightened, nodded happily, "Sure did. I scored, too. Did you see?"
"I would have, but the sun ..." she waved to indicate the way the light had been shining in her eyes, "I couldn't see a thing."
"Ah well, never mind. Next week, huh?"
Alyssa nodded, all the while thinking, yeah if you manage to drag me along again. She didn't say it, though. They stood together, walked down off the grandstand and onto the sidelines of the field. Alyssa waited patiently while Luke packed his gear up, all the while chattering about the game. He was interrupted constantly by mates coming up to him, slapping him good naturedly on the back and calling their congratulations. Alyssa couldn't help but consider the whole situation as a very large masculine show of macho bon homie. It felt somehow distateful, but she let it ride. It was only a football game for goodness' sake.
Luke had sat down on the bench to pull off his football shoes and socks. Alyssa wrinkled her nose as he peeled the long football socks - wet from sweat - from his legs, the damp hair sticking to his legs. He balled them up, threw them into the bag, and missed. Laughing, he bent down to pick them up and shoved them in the end pocket. Suddenly, socks still in hand, he paused, frowned, and extracted something. He looked up and Alyssa, and opened his hand. It was a little worry doll. Alyssa nearly screamed, but managed to keep it in. Just barely. She didn't attempt to take it from him. Luke frowned back down at it, and put it in his pocket instead.
He finished shoving things into his bag and zipped it. Hoisting it in one hand, he took Alyssa's hand with the other, and called goodbye over his shoulder to the rest of the team. Walking out, they came across a group of young girls playing on the fence to the car park - performing twirls and handstands. Luke stopped one them, reached into his pocket and handed her the little doll. He smiled as the group of girls gathered around her to see what he had given them. Still smiling, they went to Luke's car, got in, and drove back to Alyssa's flat.
--
Jamie was on a day off. Mandy was at work, but being a Saturday she would be home around lunchtime. He had slept in, gloriously languishing in bed until nearly 10 o'clock and trying not to feel guilty about the day slipping away. Eventually the sun pouring in the window - unseasonably hot for the time of year - chased him out of bed, and he wandered into the ensuite for a shower. He sang gruffly as he showered, thinking wryly that it was probably a good thing that he became a doctor and not a pop star, and when he stepped out to wrap a towel around himself, the steam in the little badly ventilated room curled around his legs and obscured the fittings. He was in a little cloud, he mused, and thought that perhaps a day off was all he really needed to clear his head, get life back on track and start feeling like a normal human being again. He thought that perhaps he would share this idea with Mandy. They could take off for a day or two, maybe, find a little bed and breakfast in the country and get away from it all. Forget about work, about long hours, and most of all, about silly little worry dolls.
Feeling better having just made the decision, he wandered into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his middle, to find something to wear. He stood in front of the open wardrobe, finding shorts and a tshirt, still humming tunelessly under his breath and considering places they could take off to. Clothes picked, he put them on the bed, finished drying himself and stepped into the pants. He pulled the shirt over his head, already starting to move towards the door, thinking about breakfast and coffee. As his head emerged from the neck hole, he caught a glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror and ducked to look closer. He used his hands to smooth his hair down a little - the closest thing it ever got to a comb. As he did, he glimpsed a movement out of the corner of his eye, and instinctively turned. There was nothing there, nothing seemed amiss in the room. He frowned, turned back to the mirror, and saw the reflection in clear detail. There, sitting on the edge of the bed - on the edge of his bed - was an old man. Bald except for white tufts above his ears, the man was stripped to the waist, the skin of his once muscled chest now drooping and thin, like rice paper. A smattering of grey hairs covered his body, thick in between his nipples, thinning as they dove to his belly, which sagged slightly over the belt of his pants. Jamie was holding his breath, not willing to believe that the man was there, but still not quite willing to turn around and dispel the image. The man was breathing heavily, his mouth hanging open. Jamie watched his chest move in and out, the movement gradually becoming more rapid and sweat shone across forehead. The old man grimaced, and his arms rose to his chest, he clenched his fists together, the knuckles going white with pressure, and pressed them into his chest. Jamie watched the pain spread across his face as though it were water splashing across dry concrete. Watching the man, still not quite daring to turn around, he knew what was happening. The man drew in a sudden ragged breath and, eyes closed and fist still drawn tightly to his breast, he fell back on the bed with a soft thwump. It was the first sound Jamie had heard from the man, and instinct kicking in and taking over, he whirled around to the bed to help him.
There was no one there.
He turned back to mirror, watched as the old man, clearly unconscious now, writhed on the bed like a fish out of water. Although the man's mouth was open, Jamie could hear no noise from him, although the bed springs protested softly. His need to help the man overcoming him, he turned again, wanting to go to him, perform first aid, stop the heart attack in its tracks. When he turned around, there was still no man there. He existed only in the world over his shoulder, the world reflected in the mirror.
The man shuddered again, and was finally still. Jamie couldn't help but stare at the bed - in the mirror, it contained an old man, dead now of a heart attack. In real life, it contained the depression left by him, but no corpse.
--
When Belle walked passed the bedroom door, Rudolph on her heels but not harnessed, Rudolph gave a little bark. It was the one that Belle had learnt to interpret as "hey, look over here!". She stopped, listening, and Rudolph led her over to her mother's bedroom door. He gave another bark and Belle, knowing her mother wasn't home yet, said warily, "Jamie?"
She heard Jamie give a little surprised grunt, and at first she thought she had woken him up, until she realised that the noise was too close to be coming from the bed.
"Jamie?" she said again, "Everything okay?"
"Hmmm? Ahh. Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I guess. What's up Belle?"
"Nothing's up, Rudolph seemed concerned about you." While this statement might seem absurd about any other dog, they all knew that Rudolph was special, simply by virtue of his training. He had been taught to be aware of human moods, pick up the subtle changes in demeanour, whoever they were. Jamie walked to the dog, gave him a bit of a pat, "You were worried were you, boy? Well, what were you worried about, hmmm?"
Rudolph gave a little whimper of happiness as Jamie rubbed his neck.
"Well, he seems OK now." Jamie pointed out.
Belle gave a little suspicious frown, and said "Yeah. He seems fine." She gave a dramatic pause before adding, "Now."
--
Why was it that when families most need to talk to each other, they seem to clam up. All of a sudden it becomes a case of survival of the fittest. I won't tell you what I know about a situation, because you might use that knowledge against me. Perhaps it is a defence mechanism. Although, surely the family unit would become stronger if they shared knowledge? Maybe it is more human and less instinctual than that. Perhaps it is simply a desire to not be thought a fool. If I express my concerns about this issue, you might think I am crazy, or stupid, or unable to cope. Coping. A lot of family life is about coping. Mothers, proving that they can cope with employment, children, the house work. Fathers, proving they can be good providers while still showing their children - especially their sons - how to be adults, how to cope. Coping again. Children have to learn how to cope with school, friends, relationships, society, life. The world demands coping of its citizens.
--
The heat wave had finally faded and, mere days before the beginning of June, and Winter, the temperature plummeted. The sudden change brought with it storms - hail, lightning and sleet heralded night fall. When the storm had calmed to drizzle, Belle could be found on the front verandah, or in the back yard, face up to the rain, a smile large on her face. She couldn't enjoy the light show, but she sure as hell could enjoy the fresh feeling as the rain washed away the heat, returned the world to one of trees, water, and the smell of damp soil. The grass gave a final spurt of life before winter, and the last of the tourists finally gave up on the beaches and drove home. Alyssa started to go for more beach walks, sometimes with Luke but more often alone, enjoying the isolation of the deserted beaches, feeling as though the tourists had finally given it back to nature for caretaking. Gradually, the detritus on the sand changed. Discarded ice-cream wrappers, lost pieces of random clothing and crushed soft drink cans gradually became seaweed, pieces of cuttle fish, shells of all sorts of shapes and sizes, washed up bits jelly fish.
--
It was on one of Alyssa's beach rambles that Belle and Rudolph decided to join her. The three of them wandered through the sand. Rudolph, unharnessed, ran between and around them, and the sisters discussed various subjects. Belle wanted to know about Luke, Alyssa told her most of what she wanted to know, although she was cagey when asked if they had "done it" yet. Belle decided that they had. Alyssa did not try and deny it, but she gave herself a secret smile. Alyssa quizzed Belle on school, cute boys and friends. Belle gave her the lowdown on the latest gossip going around the rumour mill, who was currently considered 'hot' in class, and what teachers were dragons and which weren't. To Alyssa it felt like the days when they had both been at school together, back before Jamie had come into their lives. Jamie had made their mother happy, and he had definitely made their lives better in a lot of ways. Things were more settled now, there was a sense of normalcy around daily life that they hadn't had in the years following their parents' seperation. Both of them liked him, but both girls also realised that since their move here, they had drifted further apart as a family. Alyssa didn't think it was Jamie's fault, although Belle pinned a lot of the changes on him. Alyssa said that she thought it had a lot more to do with her going to uni, living in the granny flat rather than in the house. She pointed out that it would have been worse if she had moved away. She ask Belle, in all seriousness, if she should consider moving into the house, rather than being in the flat. Belle laughed, "No! I don't want to hear you shagging all night long!". Alyssa had laughed then too, realising that her little sister was growing up. She wondered if her surprise at thinking this was because Belle's disability had made her seem somehow incapable of becoming an adult, or if it was just a normal part of being an older sibling. It was while she was lost in these thoughts that she spotted a big pink conch shell, and bent to pick it up. She held it to her ear, to hear the 'sea', but was disappointed. She shook it a little, peered inside, and dropped the shell in a hurry when a worry doll fell out, "Shit!" she exclaimed. Belle whirled around at the profanity, "What is it?"
"Another bloody worry doll!" Alyssa exclaimed. She had found so many now, they were starting to get tiresome, rather than scary, although the thought of the automatic writing she had done months ago still sent shivers up her spine.
"A worry doll?" Belle responded. They had stopped walking now, and Rudolph ran around them, wondering why they were not going anywhere anymore, trying to move them along. "Like the one you found that other time?"
"Yeah, I've been finding them everywhere, this one was in a shell! This is just crazy!"
Belle was silent, trying to decide whether or not to tell her sister about the event with her computer and the text-to-speech system that had happened a few months ago. Her memory of it was somehow dream like now, as though it not really happened, but she had read about it in a book, or had heard someone else tell the story.
Alyssa was lost in her own thoughts, and eventually she said in a soft voice, "I've been finding the wretched things all over the place. What about you, Belle? This can't be a coincidence any more, surely."
"I haven't been finding them. Well. Not really. Rudolph found one, I think, ages ago. Here on the beach. But when he gave it to me I ... I felt strange. Sick. Like my chest was all tight and I couldn't breathe. I dropped it - if that's what it was - and then I couldn't find it again. So I don't know if it was a doll or not, but it. Well, it scared the crap out of me, to be honest."
Alyssa didn't really know why - the story was pretty far fetched - but she believed it. She probably wouldn't have, but she had seen how Belle had reacted with that very first doll, and this seemed very similar. A germ of an idea began to grow in her mind, but before she could say anything, Belle began to talk again.
"You know, there was something stranged happened a few months ago, too. At night ..." Belle started slowly, but she warmed up to the narrative. They started walking again, much to Rudolph's relief, as Belle told Alyssa what had happened with the laptop. Strangely, she remembered the poem too, and when she told Alyssa, she stopped dead in her tracks. "You too, huh? This is getting really weird."
Belle stopped again too, and patted Rudolph idly when he came back to her, wondering why they were stopping again, but she said nothing.
"Belle? I've got an idea. You can say no if you want to, but I am interested. What happens if you hold this doll?" She still held the new worry doll in her hand, and now she propped it gingerly between thumb and forefinger, between them.
Belle frowned, shrugged, "I guess I can just drop it. I'm feeling shaky already though, just anticipation I guess."
Alyssa reminded her that she didn't have to do it if she didn't want to, and Belle shook her head, "I think I should. How are we going to find out what this is all about if I don't?" She paused. "Do you feel anything when you hold? Anything at all?"
Alyssa concentrated on the little doll in her fingers, and shrugged, "No, nothing. I mean, it gives me a strange feeling of ... I don't know the right word ... badness, maybe. Like it has the potential to do damage, but just doesn't want to." She laughed, "That sounds crazy."
"So does the idea of a doll making me feel like I'm having a heart attack." Belle dead panned.
Alyssa's laugh faded into a wry smile, "Yeah. I guess it does." She looked into Belle's unseeing eyes, "You sure you want to do this?"
Belle said nothing, but held her hands out, cupped in front of her. An invitation.
Alyssa hesitated slightly, then held her breath and dropped the doll into Belle's waiting hands.
--
There were times during that whole crazy ordeal with the worry doll when I thought that I would not survive. It was not that I was ever in real mortal danger, more that it felt as though I could be. That was because we were dealing with unknown. Could it kill us? We didn't know. We knew it could hurt us - and in many different ways; not all of them, or even most of them, physical. It's a natural progression that if something you don't completely understand can hurt, then there's a good a chance that it can kill. I often wonder if perhaps we were just lucky - we just happened to deal with it in a way that, while it might not have been the best, it was at least going to keep us alive. I guess that it is entirely possible that we could have taken a wrong turn, made a bad decision or failed to interpret something the right way. Well, of course we interpreted a lot of things the wrong way, but what if we had interpreted the wrong thing the wrong way? These questions will never be answered, of course. But they continue to bother me, all the same. Even now.
--
When they returned from the beach - both girls feeling uneasy, but both glad of the other's presence - it was already after dark. They had gone into the house, had a quiet dinner with Many and Jamie, and then Alyssa had invited Belle out to the flat to watch a movie.
"Luke not around tonight, Liss?" Mandy asked, trying not to sound as though she was as curious as she actually was.
"He doesn't come around every night, Mum." she replied indignantly, but Mandy just smiled. She knew how often he was around - the car parked out the front was a dead giveaway - and Alyssa was right, it wasn't every night. This was the first night in nearly two weeks that he hadn't been around though, and she hoped it didn't mean there was a ripple on the surface of young love. Alyssa refused to be drawn further, turning to Belle and explaining that she had some new DVDs and microwave popcorn. Belle agreed, and they headed outside. Alyssa took Belle's hand out of habit and, even though Rudolph was tagging along too and she didn't really need the assistance, she was glad of the contact. Perhaps, she thought, Alyssa was too.
--
Alyssa made popcorn and coffee, but they didn't put a DVD on. The bowl sat between them on the couch, and they talked. Alyssa told the story of finding the original worry doll on the floor in the reading nook, the strange automatic writing that she had put down the garbage disposal, the way the doll had disappeared. She also told Belle about Luke finding the worry doll in his football bag, and how he had given it away to the group of little girls. She spoke, pausing for popcorn every so often, and after she had told everything, she stopped. Belle didn't speak.
"Do you think they are alive?" Alyssa asked after a while.
Belle shook her head fervently. "They're not alive. They don't move. They don't think." she paused, "I think. Therefore I am not a worry doll." The both laughed, but there was no mirth in it. They lapsed into silence again.
"So what happens? What is it like when they ... do what ... whatever it is that they do to you?" Alyssa stammered over the question, not sure how to describe it.
"I don't ... I'm not sure how to describe it. It's different every time. Well, it has been different every time so far. This time, just now on the beach, it was burning pain in the side of the face. Like I was standing to close to a fire or ... or maybe like I'd been slapped, or punched, maybe." Belle lapsed into silence again, and her hand crept unconsiously to the right side of her face as she relived the expereince. "The first time, I felt like I had blood all over my face. And pain too - there's always pain. The first time it was here," she pointed to a spot high in the middle of her forehead, where her hairline came to a slight peak. "That time I could smell it too. The blood, I could smell blood. The second time I didn't notice a smell, just panic because I couldn't get my breath. Actually, now I think about it, there was a smell tonight too. This doesn't really fit though - it smelled like frying bacon." Belle lifted her eyes to her sisters, "that doesn't seem right does it?"
"None of it seems right, Belle. But I get your point, bacon is a strange thing to be smelling while you're being slapped. But then, you said it felt like being too close to a fire too - maybe the bacon caught alight." Alyssa wanted to laugh, it was an amusing concept, but somehow it seemed like it could actually mean something. She stuffed some popcorn in her face instead, and swallowed the giggle back down. She was afraid it would just come out sounding manic.
Belle wasn't smiling. She had just had a thought. "Worry dolls come from Guatemala." she said suddenly, Alyssa nodded, "Ah huh." she agreed, wondering where this was going.
"Do you know how they work?" Belle asked.
"Do you mean the legend?"
It was Belle's turn to "Ah huh."
"Well, you have the dolls, and you tell them your worries." She had almost said "a little worry", but had caught herself just in time and rephrased it. The idea of that little poem creeping into her speech scared the pants off her.
Belle took up the story, "Right. So you tell these dolls your worries. Then you put them under your pillow. What do they do with them?"
"Do with what?" Alyssa asked, confused.
"What do the dolls do with the worries you tell them?"
"They worry about them. Don't they? Isn't that the idea? They worry about things for you, so you don't have to."
"Right. So you give your worries to the doll to worry about them. What happens when you don't need to worry about it anymore? Do the dolls still have that worry? Can you get them to throw it away or something? What about when they ..."
"This is insane, Belle!" Alyssa interupted, "That's the craziest idea I've ever heard! Are you saying that these dolls have been told all these worries, and now they don't know what to do with them? That's just ... no, that's just ... unbelievable. Absolute fantasy."
Belle lifted an eyebrow. "Okay." she said after a while, "you give me a better story."
Alyssa thought, then sighed. "I don't know, I don't have anything better. But that's not even plausible. Why are they coming to us, then? How does that help?"
"I'm the only one who can ... tap into them. I'm the only one they can tell the worry to, maybe. No one else seems to be able to the way I can."
There was another unsettling pause.
"Maybe," Alyssa said, slowly, testing Belle's reaction as she spoke, "Maybe it's because you tune in to people. The same way that you know when people exchange a look, even though they make no sound." She paused again, trying to read Belle's expression, "Maybe it's because you're blind."
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