Belle felt entirely drained after the incident. She wandered slowly back to the house, leaving Alyssa and Luke sitting up, still talking it all over. Unusually, she stumbled on the step, and bumped her shoulder as she rounded the corner into her room. Both times, Rudolph was there beside her. Even unharnessed, as he usually was at home, he tended to keep an eye out for her. After what seemed like miles, her shins brushed up against the bed, and she tumbled into it, too tired to even be bothered undressing. She slept dreamlessly, and woke some time after midnight - cold, uncomfortable in her jeans, and with her face rumpled.
--
Alyssa and Luke were still awake, still talking, when Belle finally got out of bed to get undressed and then got back in and under the doona. They hadn't gotten any closer to explaining what had happened. Alyssa felt like they had been talking in circles all night, but she was unwilling to let the topic go now that it had - finally - been brought up. As far as they could tell, the worry dolls contained worries that had previously belonged to other people. Belle, somehow, seemed to be able to tap in to these worries, and Alyssa was convinced it was because of the sixth sense that she had developed because of being born blind.
"You see, she's always been able to do this thing," she explained to Luke, "where it's almost like she knows what look is on your face. You can be talking to someone, and give them a funny look and she'll be on to it, saying "what's wrong?" and stuff. She can walk into a room where no one is talking at all, and know what the feel of the conversation was before she arrived. She senses it. We've always laughed about it, sometimes it's like she's not blind at all, you know." she giggled a little, remembering times when her sister had surprised her with this technique, and then continued, "Anyway, I think she picks up on some kind of ... wave length, or something, that ordinary people don't get. I think the worry dolls are transmitting on this wavelength, if that makes any sense, and she's picking up on it. When she holds on one of the dolls, she feels whatever it is the worry is. Last night, she said that the side of her face had gotten hot, like she was too close to a fire, or she had been slapped. She also said she could smell bacon frying. That ..."
Luke interupted the monologue, "That's what that woman would have been feeling, but worse, I guess." his eyes drifted over to the big salald bowl, brimming with little tiny worry dolls, "Do you think that ... every one of them ..." He left the thought unfinished.
--
Eventually, they had fallen asleep, entwined on the futon. Luke didn't stir until the sun was well in the sky. Alyssa was already up making coffee, her hair - wet from the shower - tied up in a towel. Luke sat up blinking, and Alyssa brought a steaming mug over to him, "Good morning, Sleepyhead." she said coyly.
Luke gave a little smile and took the proffered mug, "I guess I didn't wake up." he said sheepishly.
Alyssa folded herself onto the futon beside him, clutchng her own mug in both hands, and blowing on it to cool the coffee down. She took a tentative sip before replying, "No. I guess you didn't."
"Are you," he cleared his throat before continuing, "Do you have to go to uni today?"
Alyssa stared into her coffee as she blew on it, "Not until 2." There was a pause, and she added, "It's only 8, now."
Luke put his coffee down on the floor carefully, his actions deliberate. He straightened, ands gently took Alyssa's cup from her and placed it on the ground next to his own. When he sat up again, Alyssa had a little smile playing on her lips - she knew what he was up to. He leant in close to her, the smell of soap, shampoo and coffee mingled and made him feel heady. He kissed her gently, and she responded. The kisses got deeper, more sensual, and after a little while he brought his hand up to her chest, lightly cupping her breast. He felt her moan beneath his lips, and her body arched towards his, asking him for more, offering him what he wanted. Slowly, he began to undress her.
--
Belle had woken late, and been in a rush to get to school. Rudolph had virtually pulled her down the street to the bus stop, and they had arrived just as the bus pulled up for them. She had been pre-occupied all day, though, thinking through the events of last night now that she had gotten some sleep. Last night, she had been too tired to make sense of what had gone on. This morning, she still couldn't make sense of it, but at least she could turn the concepts around to see how they fit. By the time school was over, she was in a hurry to get home and try out a theory. She was going to need Alyssa, though. She hoped she was at home.
--
When Alyssa and Luke finally emerged from bed, satiated and hungry, it was nearly noon. They had made love and slept, then woken and done it again, but slower, enjoying it more now that the original neediness had been taken care of. Feeling like she was walking on clothes, Alyssa went and showered again and, when she came out pink and steaming under a towel, Luke was up and making more coffee. He had picked up the full mugs that they had forgotten earlier, washed them, and was busy filling them up again. Alyssa drank standing up in the tiny kitchen, covered only by the towel, and Luke joined her, appreciating the generous view of her legs, and half hoping the towel would fall off so he could take her back to bed. Instead, Alyssa demanded food. Specifically, she wanted a BLT. Luke agreed to take her out to a cafe on the beach.
--
At 2 o'clock, Alyssa was sitting back in her chair on a deck overlooking the sea. It was a cold day, but the sun was shining, and the breeze was blowing gently. She had a rollneck woollen jumper on, and she wrapped herself in it, enjoying the view over the water - frothy white tipped waves rolling in and beyond them great shipping boats just barely visible on the horizon, looking like kids bath toys. From the corner of her eye, she could see Luke, rocked back on the rear two legs of his chair, also enjoying the view, and pretending not to be staring at her. She smiled to herself. There was no way she was going to uni this afternoon. If she could be bothered to move off this deck, she thought to herself, it would be to go home and back to bed.
--
When they finally did get back to Alyssa's flat, Belle came tearing out of the house to accost them. Luke gave Alyssa a quick kiss, not at all the kind of kiss she had been hoping for, and said he had better get home, before jumping back into the drivers seat and turning the car around. As he crunched over the gravel driveway, Belle frowned in the direction of the road, "He was in a hurry." she stated.
Alyssa didn't reply, but went to unlock the flat and go inside, "Do you want a drink?" she asked.
"Coffee is good, thanks Liss." she flopped on the unmade futon and wrinkled her nose a little, "Ew, what have you two been up to? This lounge stinks."
Alyssa reddened, glad that Belle couldn't see her, and shooed her sister off the futon so she could get rid of the sheets. Sometimes, she thought, having a sister with an acute sense of smell was a serious pain in the arse.
The sheets taken care of, Alyssa went back to making coffee. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she asked Belle what was bothering her. Belle had found a spot in the reading nook, sprawled over cushions, and it was from here that she recounted her idea. Alyssa brought coffee halfway through, and together they sat, shrouded by bright gauze hangings, and discussed it. They debated whether or not to bring Mandy and Jamie in on the theory, and speculated over how much they knew. They both decided that they probably knew nothing, and eventually came to the conclusion that they would decide to tell Mandy depending on what the results of the experiment ended up being.
--
Mandy was at work when Jamie walked in. She didn't notice him at first, and one of the other girls spoke to him. As soon as he opened his mouth though, she looked up, and smiled. "To what do I owe the honour of your presence, Sir?" she asked playfully, and he held out his hand for hers, and replied in the same tone, "Young lady, I am so enamoured by your beautiful demeanour that I have come to ask you out for lunch. Do you think your lovely boss," at this he flittered his eyelashes presumptuously at the other woman behind the counter, "would allow me to whisk you away for some gastronomic delights?" At this, all three of them began laughing, and Mandy got shooed out of the building by her manager saying, "After that kind of introduction, how could I say no? Now go!"
--
Over lunch at a nearby restaurant, Mandy fussing over the time, Jamie produced a cardboard envelope. It was the tickets for their weekend away, just as they had planned it only a few days ago. Mandy looked over them, pleased, it looked perfect. Nothing but sleeping, massages and lying around a pool for two whole days. She had already asked for the Saturday morning off work, and Jamie had scheduled his patients around the expected holiday. In less than three days, they would be gone.
--
The family sat down together over dinner that night - even Alyssa joined them for the first time in weeks. Mandy excitedly shared the details of their impending trip away, finer details being provided by Jamie. Belle nudged Alyssa under the table with her footwhen he mentioned that they were leaving on Friday night, straight after work. Mandy knew what she meant - she wanted to do the experiment then.
Afterwards, Jamie was washing dishes while Belle dried and Alyssa stacked them in the cupboard. It was a neat process that they had begun to perfect in the months since they moved to this house. Belle was discussing the possibility of a Monopoly challenge after the dishes, and Alyssa had agreed, eager to get out of studying. Jamie agreed on one condition - that he be the banker. He was beginning to suspect that Belle was purposefully skimping on his change. Belle handed the tea towel to Alyssa to finish the last few things, and took off to set the game up. She had only just opened up the box when Jamie joined her in the dining room. She was just about to lever out the board to reveal all the pieces, when something made her stop. She paused and ran her hand lightly over the surface of the folded game board, horribly certain already what she was going to find. When her fingers touched the worry doll, she heard a rushing sound in her ears, obliterating all other noise. She pulled her hand away and realised she had been holding her breath. She took a deep breath, tried to recover her senses, and then picked up one end of rhe board. She gave it a flick to dislodge the doll, and the movement caused Jamie to look up from where he was clearing clutter off the table, "What is it, Belle?" he asked, concerned, "You've gone pale."
"It's uh ..." she was about to say nothing and give some lame excuse, when she had a better idea, "it's another worry doll, would you believe?" she said craftily.
"Another one?" Jamie exclaimed without thinking. It was only later that he realised that both he and Mandy had assumed the girls didn't know anything about the dolls. And how wrong they had been.
--
By the time Alyssa entered the dining room and went to the box to select a Monopoly piece, Jamie and Belle were deep in conversation. Instead of picking a playing piece, she noticed the doll sitting in amongst the little houses and hotels, and picked it up instead. Holding it out she waited for a pause and then said softly, "Belle. Did you touch it?"
Belle was counting cash, using the braille pin holes they had punched in the corners to identify the different notes, and with this she looked up, startled. She hadn't yet told Jamie about this part of the puzzle.
Alyssa saw him look with confusion between her sister and herself, and she shot him a look with a raised eyebrow that said, Wait for this, this is good.
Belle stammered slightly, trying to work out what she was going to say, and then just decided to answer the question. Jamie would work it out soon enough, she guessed. "I, uh, yeah, just quickly."
"And what happened?" Alyssa asked, like a teacher quizzing a recalcitrant six year old.
"It was, ah, a rushing sound, I guess." Belle tried to relive the brief moment, in order to be able to explain it accurately, "It was like when you put your head under in the swimming pool, but louder. Like being dunked at the beach, but by a really big wave. I was holding my breath."
"Any smells?"
"I didn't notice any, this time."
At the reference to this time, Jamie looked up again, and noticed that Mandy had drifted in to listen. She was standing at the arched entrance to the room, her hand up to her mouth, as though she couldn't quite believe what was being said, "This time?" Jamie echoed.
Belle turned toward his voice, and added, "Yeah, this is the ... the fourth time. I didn't touch it for very long this time, though. And I didn't hold it in my hand, just brushed it with my fingers. It wasn't as strong."
Mandy spoke up then, demanding that the two girls tell the whole story, from beginning to end. After shooting Belle a look to find out if she was going to start, Alyssa took a deep breath, and began at the beginning.
Behind These Eyes - Part Twelve
Jamie was busy in the office, looking things up on the internet. Mandy was asleep in bed, and the house was still except for the clicking of the mouse button as he browsed. He had been trying to make sense of what he had seen in the mirror on the weekend, and when thinking it through on his own had nearly driven him insane, he had decided to give Google a try. The only sites he could find though had been written, as far as he could tell, by members of the lunatic fringe. No solid information was forthcoming from this source, even though he had never really thought that there would be. It had given him an opportunity to think about the situation though, without irrationality and hysteria creeping in - well, aside from some of the web sites he had found anyway. The more he thought about, the more he realised that it must have been an optical illusion, or a kind of personal flight of imagination. Nothing else stood to reason. He had been working long hours, he had overslept, had an extremely hot shower. Of course he hadn't been thinking properly - who would have been in that situation? He had been feeling a little odd becaise of the strange little wory dolls that had been showing up recently, and that was in itself caused by stress, he realised. That, added to the big sleep in he had had, and it made sense that he had seen something a bit strange. He started shutting down the machine, thinking to himself that this was the only really plausible explanation for the whole event. Nothing to see here, move along, he thought to himself, and gave a little lopsided grin. As the computer tinkled its little goodbye tune, he pushed the keyboard back in under the desk on its rollers and got up. When he walked into the bedroom to get undressed, his eyes didn't fall on the vanity mirror.
--
When they had been talking about it over popcorn the other night, Belle's theory had seemed kind of crazy, but still a good explanation of what was going on. Now, wrapped in Luke's arms and considering sharing the story, Alyssa wasn't so sure. Now, the whole thing just seemed ridiculously far fetched and super crazy. She cuddled up closer to him on the futon, and raised her face for a kiss. He bent and obliged her, his lips lingering on hers. She closed her eyes in pleasure, and asked him wordlessly for more. When no kiss was coming, she opened her eyes again, planning on working her arms around his neck and bringing his face down to hers again. What she saw made her frown, though. His eyes were fixed on a middle distance over her shoulder, his face showing not fear or surprise, but a kind of confusion. She looked into his eyes, waiting for him to say something - an explanation. When the silence strated to string out, she turned to work out what he had seen. At first, she didn't see anything, and she turned back to him. He was still just staring, confusion playing across his face.
"Luke?" she asked, "Babe? What is it?" she frowned up at him, starting to get worried.
His eyes didn't move from their place, but he spoke, his voice papery and kind of thin, like a man of fifty, not one of 19, "The dolls ..."
Alyssa turned again then, and she finally saw them. Her heart leapt into her throat, just as Luke cleared his throat roughly and said, "Do you see them, Liss? They're little dolls. There's ... wow! There must be dozens of them! Hundreds, even. I just ... oh wow."
--
Belle was concentrating on her homework when she heard Alyssa's voice at the front door, "Belle! Come here! Quick!" she sounded excited, hyped, but there was a strange note to her voice too, that Belle thought was almost fear. Kind of the same tone of voice she heard froms her friends after they came out of a scary movie, or maybe off a rollercoaster. Kind of scared, but mostly excited.
"Coming!" she yelled back, and marked her place in her book. She stood, and made her way to the bedroom door, wondering where Rudolph was, since he didn't seem to be hanging around her bedroom. When she came around the corner and into the hallway leading to the front door, Alyssa told her to stop, and to put her hands on the carpet. Belle gave her what she hoped was an incredulous face.
"Come on, Belle! Just do it! Rudolph is here with me. Luke's here too." she added, almost as an afterhtought. Belle, grudgingly, did as she was told, and recoiled almost immediately. As soon as her fingers touched the carpet she felt as though she was going to black out, and she stumbled a few steps back towards her bedroom wall, bumping into the corner of the wall as she did, and banging her shoulder.
"What the hell?!" she cried. Suddenly, Rudolph was at her side, his wet nose pressed into her hand.
"Sorry Belle, but you wouldn't have believed it if I just told you. They're worry dolls ... hundreds of them, all over the floor. They're in the flat too. And in a path, all the way over to the house." Belle could hear Alyssa moving closer, jerkingly.
"Are you picking them up?" she asked her sister, her own voice trying to jump registers with nerves.
"Uh huh." Alyssa replied, "What else am I supposed to do with them?"
"Ugh, I guess so. I don't want to touch them." She paused, thinking, "Well, not unless I have to, I guess."
Alyssa stopped, her hand full of dolls that she hasd picked off the floor. Luke held a large plastic salad bowl that she was putting them into. "Why would you have to, Belle?" she said, her voice curious.
Belle shook her head, not willing to share this idea quite yet, "I'll tell you later."
Alyssa, not easily put off, put on her on best big sister voice and pointed out that Belle shouldn't be keeping secrets about somehting like this, it might end up being important.
"I'm not keeping secrets and you know it Liss. I've been thinking, that's all." Belle changed the subject, "So are these things just scattered everywhere or are they in a ... I don't know ... a trail or something?"
"It's definitely a trail, we've been following it from the flat."
--
Feeling a little bit like Hansel and Gretel, Alyssa and Belle followed the trail, assisted by Luke and Rudolph. Alyssa led the little group, gathering the dolls up in handfuls as she went, and putting them into the bowl held by Luke. Rudolph clung by Belle's leg, and gave a low growl if Alyssa missed one. He was as wary of the little figurines as Belle was, maybe because she was, and he was careful to make sure that Belle didn't accidentally get too close to one. The dolls wound through the house in an almost random fashion, and the bowl was clsoe to overflowing when it finally ended in Mandy's bedroom. Mandy and Jamie were out, conveniently, for dinner and a movie and - unbeknowst to the two girls - planning a weekend away on paper serviettes. Now, they crept into their mother's room, picking up the last few dolls that remained on the floor. Luke set the bowl down on the dressing table as Belle set foot into the room. Rudolph, beside her, paused at the entrance, raised his hackles, and growled. Belle, at the warning, took a step back into the adjoining dining room.
"I'm not going in there until Rudolph stops doing that." she pointed out.
Alyssa stood in the centre of the room, glanced at Luke as though to say "Sisters!", and then slowly turned around, looking into every corner of the room as she did so. Her reflection turned in the vanity mirror with her. Finally, she shrugged, "There's nothing here, Belle. I don't get it. It's just a room, nothing ...." She stopped suddenly, when she saw Luke's face. He had gone compeltely pale, even underneath his footballer's tan, and was pointing mutely at Alyssa's reflection. Alyssa's eyes followed his finger, looked puzzled, and then returned to his face, "What? Luke, what is it?" She suddenly felt cold all over. Belle took another step backwards out of the room, and Rudolph began to bark.
--
Luke was transfixed, Alyssa, Belle, even the barking Rudolph, had faded into another existence, he was aware of the noise they were making, he udnerstood on some level that Alyssa was calling his name, but it all seemed to be happening in some other place, some other time. Right now, he was watching a woman in the mirror. She was crying, crouching beside the end of Mandy's bed, her arms over her face and her head bowed down almost into her lap. She was screaming, but Luke heard nothing. He could see her body heaving with her wracking sobs, see her brace her body as she yelled out, but the only sounds he heard were the distant voices of his girlfriend, her sister, and the guide dog. Then, strangely and very suddenly, the woman in the mirror reared up as though terror had finally moved her to feet. She looked like she was about to take flight, to run from the room - straight past Alyssa (surely she would notice the scared woman then? he thought wildly) - but instead her eyes widened even further, her mouth opened in what should have been a blood curdling scream, if only he could hear it, and she flicked her body as though trying to avoid some unseen projectile. Luke watched as her hands suddnely flew up to her face as though to ward off an attacker and then, suddenly, horribly, the side of her face flattened grossly and immediately began to redden. He had time to see blisters raising on the strangely flat surface of her cheek, and turned around to flee the bedroom in utter horror as the woman finally dropped to the carpet, her mouth open in that silent scream, and blisters rising on her broken cheek. He threw up on the tiled floor of the dining room.
--
By the time Luke turned around and bolted out of the room, Belle and Alyssa had descended into an argument. Rudolph howled over them. Alyssa wanted Belle to come into the room, to see if she could 'sense' anything. Belle refused to be Alyssa's experimental lab rat and said that until Rudolph calmed down she wasn't taking another step. Alyssa acused Belle of being a scaredy cat, and Belle accused Alyssa of treating her like a canary in a cage down a coal mine. Rudolph continued to howl and Luke continued to be spaced out, staring into the mirror at something no one else could see, with his hands up to his mouth as though he was going to throw up. Which, of course, was exactly what he ended up doing. He was apologising profusely and asking for a cloth when finally Alyssa and Belle dropped the argument unresolved. Rudolph started to calm down, and Belle realised that she didn't know whether he had been barking because whatever he - and Luke - had sensed in the room, or because of the raised voices. Maybe both, she thought. When finally they had cleaned up the mess - with much protest and exclamations of "Ew!" and "Gross!" the three of them, and Rudolph, decided to head back to the flat. Alyssa ducked back into the room to grab the bowl of worry dolls, and took a good long hard look into the mirror. She saw nothing but her own reflection.
--
Back in the flat, they chatted. Luke was implored to tell all and, with a couple of interuptions while he hung his head over the toilet in the little bathroom, coughing up bile, he recounted the story of the woman he had seen in the mirror. The way she had been cowering and crying, then defensive and finally ... broken. He couldn't explain it. He tried, valiantly, and in the end he could just not find the words to explain what he had seen. He looked apoligetically first at Alyssa, and then at Belle. Belle had a strange look on her face, as though she was holding back a secret, and when Luke's words finally dried up at a loss, she took a deep breath and spoke quietly.
"It was a frying pan. She had been cooking bacon."
This was all Alyssa needed to suddenly see the connection. When Belle had described what she had intuited when she held the worry doll on the beach that night, she had said her face had felt like it was burning, but that she had been able to smell bacon. Alyssa had made a bad attempt at a joke that night, saying maybe the bacon had caught on fire. Maybe, Alyssa thought now, she had been closer than she realised with that joke. The bacon hadn't caught fire, but that woman's face had been hit with a bacon grease filled frying pan. A hot bacon grease filled frying pan. Alyssa winced just thinking of the pain that would cause. The question of course now became who was the woman? And what on earth were they going to about her?
--
When they had been talking about it over popcorn the other night, Belle's theory had seemed kind of crazy, but still a good explanation of what was going on. Now, wrapped in Luke's arms and considering sharing the story, Alyssa wasn't so sure. Now, the whole thing just seemed ridiculously far fetched and super crazy. She cuddled up closer to him on the futon, and raised her face for a kiss. He bent and obliged her, his lips lingering on hers. She closed her eyes in pleasure, and asked him wordlessly for more. When no kiss was coming, she opened her eyes again, planning on working her arms around his neck and bringing his face down to hers again. What she saw made her frown, though. His eyes were fixed on a middle distance over her shoulder, his face showing not fear or surprise, but a kind of confusion. She looked into his eyes, waiting for him to say something - an explanation. When the silence strated to string out, she turned to work out what he had seen. At first, she didn't see anything, and she turned back to him. He was still just staring, confusion playing across his face.
"Luke?" she asked, "Babe? What is it?" she frowned up at him, starting to get worried.
His eyes didn't move from their place, but he spoke, his voice papery and kind of thin, like a man of fifty, not one of 19, "The dolls ..."
Alyssa turned again then, and she finally saw them. Her heart leapt into her throat, just as Luke cleared his throat roughly and said, "Do you see them, Liss? They're little dolls. There's ... wow! There must be dozens of them! Hundreds, even. I just ... oh wow."
--
Belle was concentrating on her homework when she heard Alyssa's voice at the front door, "Belle! Come here! Quick!" she sounded excited, hyped, but there was a strange note to her voice too, that Belle thought was almost fear. Kind of the same tone of voice she heard froms her friends after they came out of a scary movie, or maybe off a rollercoaster. Kind of scared, but mostly excited.
"Coming!" she yelled back, and marked her place in her book. She stood, and made her way to the bedroom door, wondering where Rudolph was, since he didn't seem to be hanging around her bedroom. When she came around the corner and into the hallway leading to the front door, Alyssa told her to stop, and to put her hands on the carpet. Belle gave her what she hoped was an incredulous face.
"Come on, Belle! Just do it! Rudolph is here with me. Luke's here too." she added, almost as an afterhtought. Belle, grudgingly, did as she was told, and recoiled almost immediately. As soon as her fingers touched the carpet she felt as though she was going to black out, and she stumbled a few steps back towards her bedroom wall, bumping into the corner of the wall as she did, and banging her shoulder.
"What the hell?!" she cried. Suddenly, Rudolph was at her side, his wet nose pressed into her hand.
"Sorry Belle, but you wouldn't have believed it if I just told you. They're worry dolls ... hundreds of them, all over the floor. They're in the flat too. And in a path, all the way over to the house." Belle could hear Alyssa moving closer, jerkingly.
"Are you picking them up?" she asked her sister, her own voice trying to jump registers with nerves.
"Uh huh." Alyssa replied, "What else am I supposed to do with them?"
"Ugh, I guess so. I don't want to touch them." She paused, thinking, "Well, not unless I have to, I guess."
Alyssa stopped, her hand full of dolls that she hasd picked off the floor. Luke held a large plastic salad bowl that she was putting them into. "Why would you have to, Belle?" she said, her voice curious.
Belle shook her head, not willing to share this idea quite yet, "I'll tell you later."
Alyssa, not easily put off, put on her on best big sister voice and pointed out that Belle shouldn't be keeping secrets about somehting like this, it might end up being important.
"I'm not keeping secrets and you know it Liss. I've been thinking, that's all." Belle changed the subject, "So are these things just scattered everywhere or are they in a ... I don't know ... a trail or something?"
"It's definitely a trail, we've been following it from the flat."
--
Feeling a little bit like Hansel and Gretel, Alyssa and Belle followed the trail, assisted by Luke and Rudolph. Alyssa led the little group, gathering the dolls up in handfuls as she went, and putting them into the bowl held by Luke. Rudolph clung by Belle's leg, and gave a low growl if Alyssa missed one. He was as wary of the little figurines as Belle was, maybe because she was, and he was careful to make sure that Belle didn't accidentally get too close to one. The dolls wound through the house in an almost random fashion, and the bowl was clsoe to overflowing when it finally ended in Mandy's bedroom. Mandy and Jamie were out, conveniently, for dinner and a movie and - unbeknowst to the two girls - planning a weekend away on paper serviettes. Now, they crept into their mother's room, picking up the last few dolls that remained on the floor. Luke set the bowl down on the dressing table as Belle set foot into the room. Rudolph, beside her, paused at the entrance, raised his hackles, and growled. Belle, at the warning, took a step back into the adjoining dining room.
"I'm not going in there until Rudolph stops doing that." she pointed out.
Alyssa stood in the centre of the room, glanced at Luke as though to say "Sisters!", and then slowly turned around, looking into every corner of the room as she did so. Her reflection turned in the vanity mirror with her. Finally, she shrugged, "There's nothing here, Belle. I don't get it. It's just a room, nothing ...." She stopped suddenly, when she saw Luke's face. He had gone compeltely pale, even underneath his footballer's tan, and was pointing mutely at Alyssa's reflection. Alyssa's eyes followed his finger, looked puzzled, and then returned to his face, "What? Luke, what is it?" She suddenly felt cold all over. Belle took another step backwards out of the room, and Rudolph began to bark.
--
Luke was transfixed, Alyssa, Belle, even the barking Rudolph, had faded into another existence, he was aware of the noise they were making, he udnerstood on some level that Alyssa was calling his name, but it all seemed to be happening in some other place, some other time. Right now, he was watching a woman in the mirror. She was crying, crouching beside the end of Mandy's bed, her arms over her face and her head bowed down almost into her lap. She was screaming, but Luke heard nothing. He could see her body heaving with her wracking sobs, see her brace her body as she yelled out, but the only sounds he heard were the distant voices of his girlfriend, her sister, and the guide dog. Then, strangely and very suddenly, the woman in the mirror reared up as though terror had finally moved her to feet. She looked like she was about to take flight, to run from the room - straight past Alyssa (surely she would notice the scared woman then? he thought wildly) - but instead her eyes widened even further, her mouth opened in what should have been a blood curdling scream, if only he could hear it, and she flicked her body as though trying to avoid some unseen projectile. Luke watched as her hands suddnely flew up to her face as though to ward off an attacker and then, suddenly, horribly, the side of her face flattened grossly and immediately began to redden. He had time to see blisters raising on the strangely flat surface of her cheek, and turned around to flee the bedroom in utter horror as the woman finally dropped to the carpet, her mouth open in that silent scream, and blisters rising on her broken cheek. He threw up on the tiled floor of the dining room.
--
By the time Luke turned around and bolted out of the room, Belle and Alyssa had descended into an argument. Rudolph howled over them. Alyssa wanted Belle to come into the room, to see if she could 'sense' anything. Belle refused to be Alyssa's experimental lab rat and said that until Rudolph calmed down she wasn't taking another step. Alyssa acused Belle of being a scaredy cat, and Belle accused Alyssa of treating her like a canary in a cage down a coal mine. Rudolph continued to howl and Luke continued to be spaced out, staring into the mirror at something no one else could see, with his hands up to his mouth as though he was going to throw up. Which, of course, was exactly what he ended up doing. He was apologising profusely and asking for a cloth when finally Alyssa and Belle dropped the argument unresolved. Rudolph started to calm down, and Belle realised that she didn't know whether he had been barking because whatever he - and Luke - had sensed in the room, or because of the raised voices. Maybe both, she thought. When finally they had cleaned up the mess - with much protest and exclamations of "Ew!" and "Gross!" the three of them, and Rudolph, decided to head back to the flat. Alyssa ducked back into the room to grab the bowl of worry dolls, and took a good long hard look into the mirror. She saw nothing but her own reflection.
--
Back in the flat, they chatted. Luke was implored to tell all and, with a couple of interuptions while he hung his head over the toilet in the little bathroom, coughing up bile, he recounted the story of the woman he had seen in the mirror. The way she had been cowering and crying, then defensive and finally ... broken. He couldn't explain it. He tried, valiantly, and in the end he could just not find the words to explain what he had seen. He looked apoligetically first at Alyssa, and then at Belle. Belle had a strange look on her face, as though she was holding back a secret, and when Luke's words finally dried up at a loss, she took a deep breath and spoke quietly.
"It was a frying pan. She had been cooking bacon."
This was all Alyssa needed to suddenly see the connection. When Belle had described what she had intuited when she held the worry doll on the beach that night, she had said her face had felt like it was burning, but that she had been able to smell bacon. Alyssa had made a bad attempt at a joke that night, saying maybe the bacon had caught on fire. Maybe, Alyssa thought now, she had been closer than she realised with that joke. The bacon hadn't caught fire, but that woman's face had been hit with a bacon grease filled frying pan. A hot bacon grease filled frying pan. Alyssa winced just thinking of the pain that would cause. The question of course now became who was the woman? And what on earth were they going to about her?
Behind These Eyes - Part Eleven
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."
--
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."
Behind These Eyes - Part Ten
Belle and Kayla had eaten a leisurely dinner at McDonald's, chatting and laughing with some other friends they had run into there unexpectedly. The other group were going bowling, and invited them both along. Even though Belle didn't bowl, she had gone along before, and sat and gossiped as the others played. Belle had deferred to Kayla this time though, and Kayla had said she had to study. The bowlers had left not long after, leaving Belle and Kayla alone to finish their meals.
Belle was naturally a tidy person, although blindness had made it nearly obsessive. If she knew where she put things, she could easily find them again. She ate methodically, tidying away the wrappers as she went, and when she was finished everything was packed into a neat bundle to be thrown in the bin. Not a single sesame seed remained on the table. Kayla, on the other hand, aided by sight, picked at the various options. When she finished, she bundled the hamburger wrapper up into a ball, and shoved it all into the paper bag it had came in. She added Belle's neatly folded wrappers to the bag as well, and was standing to take the whole lot to the bin when she noticed something still on the table.
"What's that, Belle?" she asked.
"What's what?" Belle responded.
"On the table. It's a ..." Kayla bent down to get a closer look, and recognised it, "Oh! It's a little worry doll!" she exclaimed. "I use to have a bunch of these when I was little."
Kayla trotted off to the bin, holding the worry doll lightly in one hand.
Belle had jumped slightly when Kayla had said the words worry doll, but was immediately glad she hadn't reacted more seriously, like the last two dolls she had come across. Of course, she hadn't actually touched it. Yet. But where had it come from? It couldn't be either of the other two dolls, surely. The first one Alyssa had taken back to the beach, the second one - the one that Rudolph had found in the sand - had never even been really found, merely glimpsed, never to be seen again.
Kayla didn't notice how pale Belle looked until she got back.
"What's up Belle?" she asked, "you look strange."
Belle shook herself slightly, trying to break free of her rather disturbing reverie, and gave a little smile, "Oh, nothing." she said, "just thinking."
--
Mandy put the new worry doll - the one she thought of as the salad doll - in a little plastic bag with the one they had found earlier, the one that had dropped out of Jamie's sock. That one had been a girl doll, with a green dress. The salad doll was a boy doll, with little legs encased in blue trousers. She wondered what had become of the one that Alyssa had found on the beach, the one that had given Belle such a shock out on the deck that morning just after Christmas. Jamie had told her to put it back where she found it. As Mandy hadn't heard anything more about it, she figured that's exactly what had happened. By putting them in the plastic bag and sealing the zip seal, she took a strange kind of comfort and thinking that she was suffocating them. Although they most certainly were not alive - she had never seen one move, or breathe, or walk around - they still had a presence, as though they could move, or breathe, if only they chose to do so. Allowing a shudder of repulsion shiver through her, she put the bag containing the two dolls back into the vanity drawer, pushed them all the way to the back, and shut the door firmly. Out of sight, out of mind, she thought. But what they be doing there in the dark?
--
Alyssa and Luke were out having dinner as well, this time at the local Malaysian restaurant. Over shared curries and plenty of boiled rice, they had chatted - the subjects ranging from the mundane to the metaphysical, traipsing through politics and popular culture on the way. Alyssa decided not to share her story about the worry doll she had found. Both the worry dolls she had found. That event was still hers. Once she had worked out what it was all about, she would talk to Luke about it. If she ever made sense of it, that is.
--
Mandy was lying in bed, in that place that only exists in a narrow beam of light between being awake and being asleep. It had been a long day, a long week really, and she was exhausted. She could feel the pull of sleep dragging her downwards, but at the same time she marvelled at the ease with which she was caught in this in between state. She felt happy, content, but could sense a little undercurrent of trouble. She tried to keep her thoughts in the warm spot of sun that existed here, knowing - even in this half awake state - that those thoughts would keep her awake later on. Like a cold draught seeping under the doorway, though, it curled around her chest, demanded her attention.
Mandy attempted to struggle awake, to allow her rational mind to take over, remind her that everything was OK, but the sleepiness had pervaded her being, dragging her down into what she imagined was going to be a troubled sleep. The unease grew, and she imagined she heard a sound. A little squeak, maybe, like a door inching open. She was awake now, sleep had been told to release its clutches, at least for the time being, but her rational mind - the thing that was supposed to remind her that there was no such thing as the boogey man - appeared to have gone on strike. Her heart was hammering in her chest.
She sat up in bed, trying to locate the source of the sound, and suddenly it came again. Where was it coming from? Mandy held her breath, listening, and was giving in to her screaming lungs and snatching another breath when the sound came again. Her eyes latched on the vanity cupboard. There! The right hand door was, ever so slowly, creaking open of its own accord. She watched it warily, her heart still dancing to it's own erratic beat, her burning curiosity the only thing keeping her from screaming.
Creak ...
Another pause.
Cre-eak ...
The time spun out like gossamer thread. And then, suddenly - pop! The door was open, swinging slightly on its hinges. Mandy jumped slightly, but remained where she was, silent. She waited. Just as she was about to give up, go back to sleep, she heard another noise.
Scra-atch ...
This time it was the top drawer within the cupboard. Slowly, ever so slowly, it creeped out on its runner, until there was a slim gap exposed along the top of the drawer. The adrenaline started to pump its poison into her veins, Mandy's heart stopped dancing, and started running, all her neurons were screaming at her to Move! Run! Scream!
She did none of these things. She sat up a little straighter, allowed her breath to come faster, but kept her eyes locked on the little gap created by the slowly-widening drawer.
When she saw the two little heads of the two worry dolls poking out of the top, she finally allowed her better mind to do those things it had been wanting to do. She screamed ...
Mandy sat up in bed. Blinking. She was awake. Her eyes flew back to the vanity. The door was closed. Not a worry doll in sight. A dream. That's all it had been. Just a dream. She lay back in bed. It had been a dream.
--
Belle was asleep. She had been out with friends, shopping, and gotten home late. Her mother had been panicked and jittery when she got there, wondering where she had been, who she had been with, why hadn't she called. Belle had used her mother's concern to further push her case for a mobile phone, and the stress had turned into an argument. Eventually, they had stormed off to their respective rooms, the argument that had been simmering for months still unresolved. It was after midnight, and Belle, exhausted, had fallen into bed and gone nearly straight to sleep. It was some hours later when she had been woken by Rudolph, who slept on his own bed in the corner of her room, whining softly. She whispered to him, and he came up to the bed and nuzzled her dangling hand. "What's wrong, Roo?" she murmered, and he whined again in response. Belle tried to gather her thoughts, wake up enough to be able to make sense of the situation. She sat up on the edge of the bed, and reached down for Rudolph again. "What is it, boy? What's bothering you? Are you sick?"
Rudolph trotted a few steps away, came back, whined. Belle got the idea and got up to follow him. He wasn't wearing his harness, but he was easy enough to sense in the still of the night. He didn't go far though, only over to the desk, where Belle's laptop sat, closed for the night. He nuzzled her hand, encouraging her to touch the laptop, and Belle frowned when she realised what he was trying to do. "You want me to use the computer? Roo, it's the middle of the night!" She reached over to the bedside clock, hit the button on top, "Three. Forty. Two. Ay. Em." it said in its mismatched electronic voice.
"Not even four o'clock!" she exclaimed to Rudolph, "What is this?" Frowning now, feeling grumpy and tired, she went back to bed. She pushed her legs down under the doona and shuffled her pillow around to the right spot as she scolded him, "Go back to bed, Rudolph".
The laptop was plugged in to the wall, but in hibernation mode. Or so Belle thought, until she heard the CPU whirr into sudden life. Expecting it to die off again, she jumped when it beeped instead. Listening closely, she jumped when the text-to-speech synthesiser suddenly spoke "I had a little dolly. I told it my little worry. But then it went red. And now they're all dead ... " Before it had finished, Belle was screaming. Rudolph barked in unison with her.
Belle was naturally a tidy person, although blindness had made it nearly obsessive. If she knew where she put things, she could easily find them again. She ate methodically, tidying away the wrappers as she went, and when she was finished everything was packed into a neat bundle to be thrown in the bin. Not a single sesame seed remained on the table. Kayla, on the other hand, aided by sight, picked at the various options. When she finished, she bundled the hamburger wrapper up into a ball, and shoved it all into the paper bag it had came in. She added Belle's neatly folded wrappers to the bag as well, and was standing to take the whole lot to the bin when she noticed something still on the table.
"What's that, Belle?" she asked.
"What's what?" Belle responded.
"On the table. It's a ..." Kayla bent down to get a closer look, and recognised it, "Oh! It's a little worry doll!" she exclaimed. "I use to have a bunch of these when I was little."
Kayla trotted off to the bin, holding the worry doll lightly in one hand.
Belle had jumped slightly when Kayla had said the words worry doll, but was immediately glad she hadn't reacted more seriously, like the last two dolls she had come across. Of course, she hadn't actually touched it. Yet. But where had it come from? It couldn't be either of the other two dolls, surely. The first one Alyssa had taken back to the beach, the second one - the one that Rudolph had found in the sand - had never even been really found, merely glimpsed, never to be seen again.
Kayla didn't notice how pale Belle looked until she got back.
"What's up Belle?" she asked, "you look strange."
Belle shook herself slightly, trying to break free of her rather disturbing reverie, and gave a little smile, "Oh, nothing." she said, "just thinking."
--
Mandy put the new worry doll - the one she thought of as the salad doll - in a little plastic bag with the one they had found earlier, the one that had dropped out of Jamie's sock. That one had been a girl doll, with a green dress. The salad doll was a boy doll, with little legs encased in blue trousers. She wondered what had become of the one that Alyssa had found on the beach, the one that had given Belle such a shock out on the deck that morning just after Christmas. Jamie had told her to put it back where she found it. As Mandy hadn't heard anything more about it, she figured that's exactly what had happened. By putting them in the plastic bag and sealing the zip seal, she took a strange kind of comfort and thinking that she was suffocating them. Although they most certainly were not alive - she had never seen one move, or breathe, or walk around - they still had a presence, as though they could move, or breathe, if only they chose to do so. Allowing a shudder of repulsion shiver through her, she put the bag containing the two dolls back into the vanity drawer, pushed them all the way to the back, and shut the door firmly. Out of sight, out of mind, she thought. But what they be doing there in the dark?
--
Alyssa and Luke were out having dinner as well, this time at the local Malaysian restaurant. Over shared curries and plenty of boiled rice, they had chatted - the subjects ranging from the mundane to the metaphysical, traipsing through politics and popular culture on the way. Alyssa decided not to share her story about the worry doll she had found. Both the worry dolls she had found. That event was still hers. Once she had worked out what it was all about, she would talk to Luke about it. If she ever made sense of it, that is.
--
Mandy was lying in bed, in that place that only exists in a narrow beam of light between being awake and being asleep. It had been a long day, a long week really, and she was exhausted. She could feel the pull of sleep dragging her downwards, but at the same time she marvelled at the ease with which she was caught in this in between state. She felt happy, content, but could sense a little undercurrent of trouble. She tried to keep her thoughts in the warm spot of sun that existed here, knowing - even in this half awake state - that those thoughts would keep her awake later on. Like a cold draught seeping under the doorway, though, it curled around her chest, demanded her attention.
Mandy attempted to struggle awake, to allow her rational mind to take over, remind her that everything was OK, but the sleepiness had pervaded her being, dragging her down into what she imagined was going to be a troubled sleep. The unease grew, and she imagined she heard a sound. A little squeak, maybe, like a door inching open. She was awake now, sleep had been told to release its clutches, at least for the time being, but her rational mind - the thing that was supposed to remind her that there was no such thing as the boogey man - appeared to have gone on strike. Her heart was hammering in her chest.
She sat up in bed, trying to locate the source of the sound, and suddenly it came again. Where was it coming from? Mandy held her breath, listening, and was giving in to her screaming lungs and snatching another breath when the sound came again. Her eyes latched on the vanity cupboard. There! The right hand door was, ever so slowly, creaking open of its own accord. She watched it warily, her heart still dancing to it's own erratic beat, her burning curiosity the only thing keeping her from screaming.
Creak ...
Another pause.
Cre-eak ...
The time spun out like gossamer thread. And then, suddenly - pop! The door was open, swinging slightly on its hinges. Mandy jumped slightly, but remained where she was, silent. She waited. Just as she was about to give up, go back to sleep, she heard another noise.
Scra-atch ...
This time it was the top drawer within the cupboard. Slowly, ever so slowly, it creeped out on its runner, until there was a slim gap exposed along the top of the drawer. The adrenaline started to pump its poison into her veins, Mandy's heart stopped dancing, and started running, all her neurons were screaming at her to Move! Run! Scream!
She did none of these things. She sat up a little straighter, allowed her breath to come faster, but kept her eyes locked on the little gap created by the slowly-widening drawer.
When she saw the two little heads of the two worry dolls poking out of the top, she finally allowed her better mind to do those things it had been wanting to do. She screamed ...
Mandy sat up in bed. Blinking. She was awake. Her eyes flew back to the vanity. The door was closed. Not a worry doll in sight. A dream. That's all it had been. Just a dream. She lay back in bed. It had been a dream.
--
Belle was asleep. She had been out with friends, shopping, and gotten home late. Her mother had been panicked and jittery when she got there, wondering where she had been, who she had been with, why hadn't she called. Belle had used her mother's concern to further push her case for a mobile phone, and the stress had turned into an argument. Eventually, they had stormed off to their respective rooms, the argument that had been simmering for months still unresolved. It was after midnight, and Belle, exhausted, had fallen into bed and gone nearly straight to sleep. It was some hours later when she had been woken by Rudolph, who slept on his own bed in the corner of her room, whining softly. She whispered to him, and he came up to the bed and nuzzled her dangling hand. "What's wrong, Roo?" she murmered, and he whined again in response. Belle tried to gather her thoughts, wake up enough to be able to make sense of the situation. She sat up on the edge of the bed, and reached down for Rudolph again. "What is it, boy? What's bothering you? Are you sick?"
Rudolph trotted a few steps away, came back, whined. Belle got the idea and got up to follow him. He wasn't wearing his harness, but he was easy enough to sense in the still of the night. He didn't go far though, only over to the desk, where Belle's laptop sat, closed for the night. He nuzzled her hand, encouraging her to touch the laptop, and Belle frowned when she realised what he was trying to do. "You want me to use the computer? Roo, it's the middle of the night!" She reached over to the bedside clock, hit the button on top, "Three. Forty. Two. Ay. Em." it said in its mismatched electronic voice.
"Not even four o'clock!" she exclaimed to Rudolph, "What is this?" Frowning now, feeling grumpy and tired, she went back to bed. She pushed her legs down under the doona and shuffled her pillow around to the right spot as she scolded him, "Go back to bed, Rudolph".
The laptop was plugged in to the wall, but in hibernation mode. Or so Belle thought, until she heard the CPU whirr into sudden life. Expecting it to die off again, she jumped when it beeped instead. Listening closely, she jumped when the text-to-speech synthesiser suddenly spoke "I had a little dolly. I told it my little worry. But then it went red. And now they're all dead ... " Before it had finished, Belle was screaming. Rudolph barked in unison with her.
Behind These Eyes - Part Nine
Alyssa was in a lecture, towards the back of the theatre. It was a bad place to sit with this lecturer, she was quickly learning. She made a mental note to make sure to sit closer to the front in the future. He was an older man, white hair poking out in tufts above his ears, and he had a tendency to wander around the lecturn as he spoke. Much of his address appeared to be directed at his projected notes, rather than his audience, and subsquently his voice got lost in the cavernous roof of the lecture theatre. Alyssa yawned. This was the last lecture of her busiest day of the week. To be cursed with a lecturer who was this hard to concentrate on was going to be bad news for her results, she could just tell.
She was doodling in her notebook as she she tried to concentrate, little pictures of flowers and love hearts intermingled with Luke's name and words that she picked up here and there from the lecture. She sighed. These lecture notes weren't going to help her study later on. She continued doodling and her mind started to drift sleepily. Luke was coming to pick her up in his car after this class. It was the only thing stopping her getting up and leaving - she knew he wouldn't be there until 6pm, so she might as well stay and try to absorb something in the meantime. Her mother knew not to expect her for dinner on Thursdays now. Alyssa's Thursdays started with a Biology lecture at 10 o'clock, and went through virtually non-stop until this 2 hour Ethics in Medicine class at 4 o'clock. Punishing, but it was made up for by an easy two lecture day on Fridays. She hoped she could even things out a little next year. Maybe when she got used to how things work, she would be able to plan it a bit better. Luke was a second year engineering student, he seemed to have a much better schedule than her own. But then she suspected that he was a bit selective about which lectures he went to sometimes. She checked her watch yet again - still an hour to go. She wondered where Luke would take her for dinner. She decided she would ask if they could find a curry - Indian maybe. Or Malaysian. They had been going out more or less officially for nearly a month now. They hadn't slept together yet, although Alyssa though it probably wouldn't be long. She was still a virgin, and while she wasn't aching to give it away, she certainly wasn't keen to hold on to the status for too much longer. Luke had been quite the gentleman so far, always leaving before dawn, and never pushing her past where she was comfortable going. It was relaxing, reassuring, and the lack of pressure made it easier for her to lay back and let it happen. She wondered why more men didn't realise this. When they icnreased the pressure, women were just more likely to increase resistence, surely. She scribbled a little graph, showing the positive correlation between sexual pressure and sexual resistence, and smiled to herself. Always the scientific brain, that's what her mother told her. Alyssa guessed she was right. She had always been analytical - thinking in terms of numbers, statistics, graphs and correlations. She made sense of the world like that. It worked for her.
--
Belle was chatting on the phone to Kayla, trying to convince her to come out late-night shopping with her and a few other friends. Kayla claimed she had homework to do, and Belle scoffed. "It's only March! How much homework could you possibly have at this time of year?"
Kayla laughed, then pointed out that her History teacher this year was particularly fond of lengthy research assignments, "I swear, this is the second one already, and she's already planning the third. I'm sure she only does it so she get us all to do library research during her classes, instead of having to actually teach us anything. Mind you, Mrs Greene is particularly sadistic. Perhaps she gets some kind of cruel pleasure out of seeing us all turning ourselves inside out to get five thousand words written on the rise and fall of the Roman empire in less than three weeks. I mean, seriously, there's only so much you can write about a bunch of guys running around in togas."
Belle giggled at the image that conjured up in her mind, "Well, OK, how about instead of coming out, you bring all your stuff around here and I'll help you with it?"
If Kayla and Belle ever wanted to study together, it was better to do it at Belle's place, so that they had access to the Braille editions of the textbooks, and the text-to-speech software on her laptop. Besides, as Kayla pointed out, Belle's Mum bought nicer biscuits. And they had better coffee, too. Belle agreed on the coffee, at least.
Kayla gave a little sigh on the phone, but Belle sensed that she was cracking. Both of them knew that once she got there, very little study was going to happen, but Kayla was considering it anyway. "Oh, okay." she said eventually, "But I'm only staying until 10. No later." she stated.
Belle laughed, "Yeah, right. I'll meet you at McDonald's for dinner first. Say in an hour?"
"Yeah, OK, sounds good, Belle."
"See you soon." Belle responded, and hung up with Kayla's laughter still tinkling in her ears.
--
Mandy and Jamie were dining alone - Alyssa was on her fast becoming normal Thursday night date with Luke, and Belle was out somewhere with Kayla. The weather was still warm, and Jamie had finished work early and cooked dinner for Mandy. A simple salad, light ingredients thrown together in a sweet mango-tanged sauce, a bought barbecue chicken and fresh Turkish bread from the bakery Jamie passed on the way home. They were eating outside, enjoying the last hour of sunshine offered by the remaining few weeks of daylight savings. Mandy was commenting that it wouldn't be long before she unpacked the slow cooker and got back into the habit of casseroles and curries. Jamie agreed, lamenting the dying days of Summer. He suggested they should make sure they got to the beach again this weekend, before it got too cold to enjoy it for a few months. Mandy nodded, her mouth full of salad.
"You know, now I'm working again, I haven't gotten to the beach in weeks." she said, once she had swallowed.
"Yes. You know, you don't have to work full-time, Mandy."
"I know, Darling, but I prefer it this way. Besides, the practise needs me at the moment. They're so terribly understaffed. It's no wonder they jumped at the chance when I applied. To get someone who had half a clue, let alone a clue, was quite a shock for them, I think."
Jamie nodded, thinking that as long as Mandy was happy with it, he would go along with the idea.
Mandy launched into a story that had happened to her the other day. The senior office manager had gotten flustered over a scheduling problem, and Mandy had jumped in with a suggestion. She had come across the problem in her previous position, it seemed, and her experience gave her the requisite knowledge to handle the issue. She was laughing, recounting the look of shock on the manager's face, as she went back to the salad for seconds. She spotted something hiding amongst the shredded lettuce and, thinking it was a little grub, started to chide Jamie abotu it, "you really must make sure you wash the lettuce, Jamie. Although, you know what they say, it's better to find a whole worm in your salad than half a ..." her sentence was cut off by a blood-curdling scream, she leapt off her chair and stood staring at her plate in horror.
"What? What is it?" Jamie asked, worried.
"It's a. Oh. My God," Mandy stammered, a hand over her mouth as she tried to regain her composure. "A doll. A worry doll. In the salad." Her hands still covering her mouth, as though she was afraid she was going to throw up, she looked at Jamie, and he noticed how haunted they looked.
"What's going on, Jamie? What's happening to us?"
Jamie shook his head, not knowing how to answer.
"What does this mean, Jamie? Just what does this mean? And what are we supposed to do about it?"
She was doodling in her notebook as she she tried to concentrate, little pictures of flowers and love hearts intermingled with Luke's name and words that she picked up here and there from the lecture. She sighed. These lecture notes weren't going to help her study later on. She continued doodling and her mind started to drift sleepily. Luke was coming to pick her up in his car after this class. It was the only thing stopping her getting up and leaving - she knew he wouldn't be there until 6pm, so she might as well stay and try to absorb something in the meantime. Her mother knew not to expect her for dinner on Thursdays now. Alyssa's Thursdays started with a Biology lecture at 10 o'clock, and went through virtually non-stop until this 2 hour Ethics in Medicine class at 4 o'clock. Punishing, but it was made up for by an easy two lecture day on Fridays. She hoped she could even things out a little next year. Maybe when she got used to how things work, she would be able to plan it a bit better. Luke was a second year engineering student, he seemed to have a much better schedule than her own. But then she suspected that he was a bit selective about which lectures he went to sometimes. She checked her watch yet again - still an hour to go. She wondered where Luke would take her for dinner. She decided she would ask if they could find a curry - Indian maybe. Or Malaysian. They had been going out more or less officially for nearly a month now. They hadn't slept together yet, although Alyssa though it probably wouldn't be long. She was still a virgin, and while she wasn't aching to give it away, she certainly wasn't keen to hold on to the status for too much longer. Luke had been quite the gentleman so far, always leaving before dawn, and never pushing her past where she was comfortable going. It was relaxing, reassuring, and the lack of pressure made it easier for her to lay back and let it happen. She wondered why more men didn't realise this. When they icnreased the pressure, women were just more likely to increase resistence, surely. She scribbled a little graph, showing the positive correlation between sexual pressure and sexual resistence, and smiled to herself. Always the scientific brain, that's what her mother told her. Alyssa guessed she was right. She had always been analytical - thinking in terms of numbers, statistics, graphs and correlations. She made sense of the world like that. It worked for her.
--
Belle was chatting on the phone to Kayla, trying to convince her to come out late-night shopping with her and a few other friends. Kayla claimed she had homework to do, and Belle scoffed. "It's only March! How much homework could you possibly have at this time of year?"
Kayla laughed, then pointed out that her History teacher this year was particularly fond of lengthy research assignments, "I swear, this is the second one already, and she's already planning the third. I'm sure she only does it so she get us all to do library research during her classes, instead of having to actually teach us anything. Mind you, Mrs Greene is particularly sadistic. Perhaps she gets some kind of cruel pleasure out of seeing us all turning ourselves inside out to get five thousand words written on the rise and fall of the Roman empire in less than three weeks. I mean, seriously, there's only so much you can write about a bunch of guys running around in togas."
Belle giggled at the image that conjured up in her mind, "Well, OK, how about instead of coming out, you bring all your stuff around here and I'll help you with it?"
If Kayla and Belle ever wanted to study together, it was better to do it at Belle's place, so that they had access to the Braille editions of the textbooks, and the text-to-speech software on her laptop. Besides, as Kayla pointed out, Belle's Mum bought nicer biscuits. And they had better coffee, too. Belle agreed on the coffee, at least.
Kayla gave a little sigh on the phone, but Belle sensed that she was cracking. Both of them knew that once she got there, very little study was going to happen, but Kayla was considering it anyway. "Oh, okay." she said eventually, "But I'm only staying until 10. No later." she stated.
Belle laughed, "Yeah, right. I'll meet you at McDonald's for dinner first. Say in an hour?"
"Yeah, OK, sounds good, Belle."
"See you soon." Belle responded, and hung up with Kayla's laughter still tinkling in her ears.
--
Mandy and Jamie were dining alone - Alyssa was on her fast becoming normal Thursday night date with Luke, and Belle was out somewhere with Kayla. The weather was still warm, and Jamie had finished work early and cooked dinner for Mandy. A simple salad, light ingredients thrown together in a sweet mango-tanged sauce, a bought barbecue chicken and fresh Turkish bread from the bakery Jamie passed on the way home. They were eating outside, enjoying the last hour of sunshine offered by the remaining few weeks of daylight savings. Mandy was commenting that it wouldn't be long before she unpacked the slow cooker and got back into the habit of casseroles and curries. Jamie agreed, lamenting the dying days of Summer. He suggested they should make sure they got to the beach again this weekend, before it got too cold to enjoy it for a few months. Mandy nodded, her mouth full of salad.
"You know, now I'm working again, I haven't gotten to the beach in weeks." she said, once she had swallowed.
"Yes. You know, you don't have to work full-time, Mandy."
"I know, Darling, but I prefer it this way. Besides, the practise needs me at the moment. They're so terribly understaffed. It's no wonder they jumped at the chance when I applied. To get someone who had half a clue, let alone a clue, was quite a shock for them, I think."
Jamie nodded, thinking that as long as Mandy was happy with it, he would go along with the idea.
Mandy launched into a story that had happened to her the other day. The senior office manager had gotten flustered over a scheduling problem, and Mandy had jumped in with a suggestion. She had come across the problem in her previous position, it seemed, and her experience gave her the requisite knowledge to handle the issue. She was laughing, recounting the look of shock on the manager's face, as she went back to the salad for seconds. She spotted something hiding amongst the shredded lettuce and, thinking it was a little grub, started to chide Jamie abotu it, "you really must make sure you wash the lettuce, Jamie. Although, you know what they say, it's better to find a whole worm in your salad than half a ..." her sentence was cut off by a blood-curdling scream, she leapt off her chair and stood staring at her plate in horror.
"What? What is it?" Jamie asked, worried.
"It's a. Oh. My God," Mandy stammered, a hand over her mouth as she tried to regain her composure. "A doll. A worry doll. In the salad." Her hands still covering her mouth, as though she was afraid she was going to throw up, she looked at Jamie, and he noticed how haunted they looked.
"What's going on, Jamie? What's happening to us?"
Jamie shook his head, not knowing how to answer.
"What does this mean, Jamie? Just what does this mean? And what are we supposed to do about it?"
Behind These Eyes - Part Eight
Alyssa stared at the little doll, lying on the floor not a metre away from her nose, and fought the urge to recoil further. It was a doll, for goodness' sake, why was she so terrified of it? It hadn't actually harmed her, like it seemed to have hurt Belle that time, but it had certainly given her a shock. And what was with the writing? It was nothing like her own, but she had definitely written it. She still had little marks in her fingers, where her nails had dug in as she gripped the pen tight. She had nearly broken her own skin in one spot on her middle finger, she realised now. And the words, they were from that poem that had been rolling around in her head the day she found the doll on the beach. Thinking of that morning made her think about the nightmare she had had - in the dance studio, spinning, spinning, and then the hand reaching for her with the razor sharp nails. Alyssa shivered, and tried to banish the idea from her mind, but the image was with her now. Like a stubborn piece of meat caught in between her teeth, the image was stuck in her mind, and it wasn't going to shift without some effort, she realised.
The sun filtering through the sheer fabric and onto the page no longer seemed conforting and romantic, but claustrophobic and stifling. She wondered what was lingering out there that she couldn't quite see. And the doll, staring up at her from the floor, as though it was telling her that she was a bad girl. A bad, bad girl. But then it went red. And now they're all dead. You're a wicked little girl. Alyssa jumped up, startled, and whipped aside the curtains. Her room was as it should be. Except for the taunting little doll on the floor of the reading nook and the torn pages with their eerie message, everything was fine. She took a deep breath. Everything was fine.
She reached down to the notebook and tore out the page she (had she? who else could it have been?) had scrawled on, and the two pages beneath it, where the impression of the letters still stood, then threw them down the garbage disposal in the kitchen sink. As she watched the hungry machine chew them up, she had another idea, and went back to the reading nook to grab the doll. But it was gone. She lifted the throw pillows, tossed them aside in a frenzy, but the doll was nowhere to be found. It had, however, left that image in her mind, and she couldn't almost hear it scratching in the corner of her brain - you bad, wicked girl. Now they're all dead.
--
Mandy picked up her new uniform blouse - plain white and tailored, with the kitsch logo of the practise on the left breast - and peered inside it for tags. They were there, with a little bag containing a spare button. She tore them off with a single tug, and put them aside on the dressing table. She would add the button to her collection in the sewing kit later on. The pants, seams sharp enough to spread butter, also sported all sorts of tags and labels. She was going to need scissors for this lot, she thought. She meandered out to the kitchen in her bra and underpants, to find the nail scissors and snip them off. Back in the bedroom, she detached the tags, and stepped into the pants. They were a good fit, she thought, looking in the mirrored doors of the wardrobe. She sat down at the vanity to do her makeup - just a little natural colour, she thought, don't overdo it. She finished, stood, and shrugged on the blouse, watching her refelction in the vanity mirror as she did up the buttons, and shrugged her shoulders, getting it to hang nicely. Eventually, nodding appreciably, she left the room. She didn't notice the woman behind her reflected image in the vanity mirror, and walked out humming under her breath, ready to start on her first day.
--
Jamie was at the end of his shift. It had been a long one, and he was tired. The patients had been nothing but a long, non-stop line of whinging, sniffling and complaining. Some days, he found himself wondering what had possessed him to go into general practise in the first place. Why hadn't he done like all his peers had - found a speciality and gone on to be a surgeon, make the big money. He was sure that he had had compelling reasons to go into general practise at the time, but he could be buggered if he could remember what they were now.
He packed the last of the equipment - sterilised and ready for a new day - away in the drawers, grabbed his briefcase, and headed out, pulling the consulting room door shut behind him. In the reception area, the medical receptionist was busy packing away his own desk - finalising the day's takings, putting the money in a bank deposit bag, and shutting down the twin computers on the front desk. Jaime popped his head in behind the counter to say a quick goodbye. Robert looked up, smiled briefly, and wished him a good night. Jamie thanked him, and then stopped short as he spotted something on Rob's desk. He pointed and, unable to find his voice at first, eventually stammered out, "Wh ... what's that?"
Rob looked up, startled, then followed Jamie's pointing finger with his eyes. He picked up the little doll on the desk, and held it out so Jamie could see, "What this? Well, I believe it's a Guatemalan Worry Doll."
Jamie recoiled from the proffered doll, mentally chiding himself, but unable to stop himself, "Where ... where did you get it?" he said in a voice that was nothing even close to normal.
"Why, it was left here in reception. I guess a patient dropped it." Rob paused, searching Jamie's face, "Doctor? Are you alright? Can I get you a glass of water or something?"
Jamie shook his head, trying to clear it, and recover from the shock of seeing the little doll here in the practise. "I ... yes, I'm fine. Thanks Rob. Why don't you ... take it home with you, huh?"
"Ah, well, I was thinking I'd leave it here for now. Someone might come back for it."
"Oh. Hmm. Good point." Jamie moved around into the public area again, "Well. I'll ... I'll see you tomorrow then." Jamie paused, checking to see if he could see the worry doll from this position. Pleased when he realised that he couldn't, he added, "Actually, it will be Wednesday. I'm off tomorrow."
"Yes, no problem." Rob gave him another searching look, "Are you sure you're alright, Doctor? You've gone white as sheet."
Jamie nodded. He was getting a grip on himself again now that he couldn't see the doll from behind the high-topped desk. He even managed a halfway normal smile. "I'm fine Rob, just felt a bit strange for a while there. Must be these long hours. It's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix." He gave another smile to punctuate the lie, and tossed a wave over his shoulder as he walked out the door, leaving Rob alone in the practise. With the doll.
--
When Jamie finally got home, it was after eight o'clock. The girls were nowhere to be seen - Belle holed up in her room and Alyssa studying in her flat, he guessed. Rudolph greeted him lazily from under the kitchen table, but didn't get up. He could see a plastic-wrapped plate sitting on the kitchen bench and he put it into the microwave and set it going. While he waited, he wandered into the bedroom, looking for Mandy, and found her sitting up in bed, reading. Or at least, she had been. The book - a paperback copy of a John Grisham novel - had slipped closed from one limp hand, and she was fast asleep in a sitting position. He stopped, smiled down at her, the only thought in his mind how beautiful she was, then leant down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes fluttered gently, and she opened them with a yawn, "Oh, hello you." she murmered.
"How are you, Darling? How was your first day?"
Mandy stretched, and recovered her book. She reached over to the bedside table to put it away as she answered, "Oh, pretty good. It's all pretty much the same as I'm used to. I have to get used to the computing system, but the office manager and the doctors all seem quite nice."
Jamie smiled, sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes so he could lie down beside her. He had an itch the arch of his foot, inside his sock, and he scratched at it absently, then pulled the sock off. A little piece of twig, wrapped in a scrap of cloth, fell out of the sock and on to the carpet. Jamie caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, then jumped up suddenly when he realised what it was. He uttered a little unvoluntary cry, and Mandy sat up in bed, her eyes questioning. They both stared at the little doll on the floor - Mandy from the bed, and Jamie standing nearby. From the kitchen, the microwave began to beep. Jamie ignored it.
--
Belle had heard Jamie come in, she was lying on her bed with her laptop open, an online book being read to her through the text-to-speech system. She had also heard the microwave beep to indicate it had finished its programme. In two minutes it beeped again. And then again. Belle wondered what they were up to. When it started beeping for the fourth time, Belle paused the book reading, and got up with a sigh. She wasn't going to put up with that beeping all night. And it would go all night, the microwave wouldn't let up once it on to a good thing, she knew. Also, she decided she needed a cup of coffee.
In the kitchen, Belle hit the Cancel button without looking inside the microwave. She knew it would be Jamie's dinner in there. She filled the kettle from the tap, set it back on the base, and switched it on. She couldn't hear any noise from the rest of the house - everything was eerily still, until Rudolph gave a strange little whine from his place under the table. Suddenly, a little trickle of fear began to slide into the pit of her belly. Something was wrong.
"Mum!" she called. Listened. Nothing. "Mum?" Belle held her breath, straining to hear anything over her own heartbeat. Rudolph whined again, louder this time.
"Mum?!" She was just about screaming now, and she heard the edge of panic on her own voice. The trickle of fear had began a hot stone sitting in her stomach, weighing her down. Rudolph was suddenly at her side, leaning his warm body against her leg. It was comforting in its own way, but not what she needed right now. She patted him, murmered "what's going on, Roo?" then pushed him away gently as she began to hurry towards the entrance to her mother's bedroom. Moving too quickly, she rapped her thigh against the corner of the kitchen table, and swore under her breath. When she reached the door, she found it open, and called out again, yelling "Mum?! Are you in here?"
As though waking from a trance, Mandy looked up at her daughter, "I'm here Belle. Don't shout." she said dreamily.
"Mum? What's happening?"
"Happening?" Mandy said, as though she didn't understand the word.
"Yeah. The microwave ..." Belle trailed off, not really certain what had caused her flutter of fear, now. "And Rudolph. He was ... well, he was whining." Belle felt suddenly foolish at her own panic.
Mandy gave Jamie a look, and although Belle didn't see it, she sensed the ripple in the air. "What's going on, Mum?"
Belle listened to the bed springs shift as Mandy got up off the bed, heard the shuffle of her footsteps on the carpet, masking Jamie's. Then Mandy's arm was around her shoulders. "Nothing's going on, Belle. What's got into you?"
Belle frowned. She could tell something was going on, but she couldn't begin to guess what it was. Mandy went on, in a false voice, "How about I put the kettle on, huh?"
The sun filtering through the sheer fabric and onto the page no longer seemed conforting and romantic, but claustrophobic and stifling. She wondered what was lingering out there that she couldn't quite see. And the doll, staring up at her from the floor, as though it was telling her that she was a bad girl. A bad, bad girl. But then it went red. And now they're all dead. You're a wicked little girl. Alyssa jumped up, startled, and whipped aside the curtains. Her room was as it should be. Except for the taunting little doll on the floor of the reading nook and the torn pages with their eerie message, everything was fine. She took a deep breath. Everything was fine.
She reached down to the notebook and tore out the page she (had she? who else could it have been?) had scrawled on, and the two pages beneath it, where the impression of the letters still stood, then threw them down the garbage disposal in the kitchen sink. As she watched the hungry machine chew them up, she had another idea, and went back to the reading nook to grab the doll. But it was gone. She lifted the throw pillows, tossed them aside in a frenzy, but the doll was nowhere to be found. It had, however, left that image in her mind, and she couldn't almost hear it scratching in the corner of her brain - you bad, wicked girl. Now they're all dead.
--
Mandy picked up her new uniform blouse - plain white and tailored, with the kitsch logo of the practise on the left breast - and peered inside it for tags. They were there, with a little bag containing a spare button. She tore them off with a single tug, and put them aside on the dressing table. She would add the button to her collection in the sewing kit later on. The pants, seams sharp enough to spread butter, also sported all sorts of tags and labels. She was going to need scissors for this lot, she thought. She meandered out to the kitchen in her bra and underpants, to find the nail scissors and snip them off. Back in the bedroom, she detached the tags, and stepped into the pants. They were a good fit, she thought, looking in the mirrored doors of the wardrobe. She sat down at the vanity to do her makeup - just a little natural colour, she thought, don't overdo it. She finished, stood, and shrugged on the blouse, watching her refelction in the vanity mirror as she did up the buttons, and shrugged her shoulders, getting it to hang nicely. Eventually, nodding appreciably, she left the room. She didn't notice the woman behind her reflected image in the vanity mirror, and walked out humming under her breath, ready to start on her first day.
--
Jamie was at the end of his shift. It had been a long one, and he was tired. The patients had been nothing but a long, non-stop line of whinging, sniffling and complaining. Some days, he found himself wondering what had possessed him to go into general practise in the first place. Why hadn't he done like all his peers had - found a speciality and gone on to be a surgeon, make the big money. He was sure that he had had compelling reasons to go into general practise at the time, but he could be buggered if he could remember what they were now.
He packed the last of the equipment - sterilised and ready for a new day - away in the drawers, grabbed his briefcase, and headed out, pulling the consulting room door shut behind him. In the reception area, the medical receptionist was busy packing away his own desk - finalising the day's takings, putting the money in a bank deposit bag, and shutting down the twin computers on the front desk. Jaime popped his head in behind the counter to say a quick goodbye. Robert looked up, smiled briefly, and wished him a good night. Jamie thanked him, and then stopped short as he spotted something on Rob's desk. He pointed and, unable to find his voice at first, eventually stammered out, "Wh ... what's that?"
Rob looked up, startled, then followed Jamie's pointing finger with his eyes. He picked up the little doll on the desk, and held it out so Jamie could see, "What this? Well, I believe it's a Guatemalan Worry Doll."
Jamie recoiled from the proffered doll, mentally chiding himself, but unable to stop himself, "Where ... where did you get it?" he said in a voice that was nothing even close to normal.
"Why, it was left here in reception. I guess a patient dropped it." Rob paused, searching Jamie's face, "Doctor? Are you alright? Can I get you a glass of water or something?"
Jamie shook his head, trying to clear it, and recover from the shock of seeing the little doll here in the practise. "I ... yes, I'm fine. Thanks Rob. Why don't you ... take it home with you, huh?"
"Ah, well, I was thinking I'd leave it here for now. Someone might come back for it."
"Oh. Hmm. Good point." Jamie moved around into the public area again, "Well. I'll ... I'll see you tomorrow then." Jamie paused, checking to see if he could see the worry doll from this position. Pleased when he realised that he couldn't, he added, "Actually, it will be Wednesday. I'm off tomorrow."
"Yes, no problem." Rob gave him another searching look, "Are you sure you're alright, Doctor? You've gone white as sheet."
Jamie nodded. He was getting a grip on himself again now that he couldn't see the doll from behind the high-topped desk. He even managed a halfway normal smile. "I'm fine Rob, just felt a bit strange for a while there. Must be these long hours. It's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix." He gave another smile to punctuate the lie, and tossed a wave over his shoulder as he walked out the door, leaving Rob alone in the practise. With the doll.
--
When Jamie finally got home, it was after eight o'clock. The girls were nowhere to be seen - Belle holed up in her room and Alyssa studying in her flat, he guessed. Rudolph greeted him lazily from under the kitchen table, but didn't get up. He could see a plastic-wrapped plate sitting on the kitchen bench and he put it into the microwave and set it going. While he waited, he wandered into the bedroom, looking for Mandy, and found her sitting up in bed, reading. Or at least, she had been. The book - a paperback copy of a John Grisham novel - had slipped closed from one limp hand, and she was fast asleep in a sitting position. He stopped, smiled down at her, the only thought in his mind how beautiful she was, then leant down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes fluttered gently, and she opened them with a yawn, "Oh, hello you." she murmered.
"How are you, Darling? How was your first day?"
Mandy stretched, and recovered her book. She reached over to the bedside table to put it away as she answered, "Oh, pretty good. It's all pretty much the same as I'm used to. I have to get used to the computing system, but the office manager and the doctors all seem quite nice."
Jamie smiled, sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes so he could lie down beside her. He had an itch the arch of his foot, inside his sock, and he scratched at it absently, then pulled the sock off. A little piece of twig, wrapped in a scrap of cloth, fell out of the sock and on to the carpet. Jamie caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, then jumped up suddenly when he realised what it was. He uttered a little unvoluntary cry, and Mandy sat up in bed, her eyes questioning. They both stared at the little doll on the floor - Mandy from the bed, and Jamie standing nearby. From the kitchen, the microwave began to beep. Jamie ignored it.
--
Belle had heard Jamie come in, she was lying on her bed with her laptop open, an online book being read to her through the text-to-speech system. She had also heard the microwave beep to indicate it had finished its programme. In two minutes it beeped again. And then again. Belle wondered what they were up to. When it started beeping for the fourth time, Belle paused the book reading, and got up with a sigh. She wasn't going to put up with that beeping all night. And it would go all night, the microwave wouldn't let up once it on to a good thing, she knew. Also, she decided she needed a cup of coffee.
In the kitchen, Belle hit the Cancel button without looking inside the microwave. She knew it would be Jamie's dinner in there. She filled the kettle from the tap, set it back on the base, and switched it on. She couldn't hear any noise from the rest of the house - everything was eerily still, until Rudolph gave a strange little whine from his place under the table. Suddenly, a little trickle of fear began to slide into the pit of her belly. Something was wrong.
"Mum!" she called. Listened. Nothing. "Mum?" Belle held her breath, straining to hear anything over her own heartbeat. Rudolph whined again, louder this time.
"Mum?!" She was just about screaming now, and she heard the edge of panic on her own voice. The trickle of fear had began a hot stone sitting in her stomach, weighing her down. Rudolph was suddenly at her side, leaning his warm body against her leg. It was comforting in its own way, but not what she needed right now. She patted him, murmered "what's going on, Roo?" then pushed him away gently as she began to hurry towards the entrance to her mother's bedroom. Moving too quickly, she rapped her thigh against the corner of the kitchen table, and swore under her breath. When she reached the door, she found it open, and called out again, yelling "Mum?! Are you in here?"
As though waking from a trance, Mandy looked up at her daughter, "I'm here Belle. Don't shout." she said dreamily.
"Mum? What's happening?"
"Happening?" Mandy said, as though she didn't understand the word.
"Yeah. The microwave ..." Belle trailed off, not really certain what had caused her flutter of fear, now. "And Rudolph. He was ... well, he was whining." Belle felt suddenly foolish at her own panic.
Mandy gave Jamie a look, and although Belle didn't see it, she sensed the ripple in the air. "What's going on, Mum?"
Belle listened to the bed springs shift as Mandy got up off the bed, heard the shuffle of her footsteps on the carpet, masking Jamie's. Then Mandy's arm was around her shoulders. "Nothing's going on, Belle. What's got into you?"
Belle frowned. She could tell something was going on, but she couldn't begin to guess what it was. Mandy went on, in a false voice, "How about I put the kettle on, huh?"
Behind These Eyes - Part Seven
Alyssa had spent most of Monday morning sprawled on throw cushions in her new reading corner, sun filtering through pink and blue sheer fabric to lay in coloured streaks across the page. She had spent a good deal of the time with text books, a lecture pad and coloured highlighters in front her, while she daydreamed about laying in Luke's arms. Every so often she would force her eyes back to the page, only to find herself drifting off again only sentences later. She checked her watch. She was due to leave for a lecture in half an hour, and she was still no where near getting the reading done. Alyssa sighed and shifted on the cushions, trying to get into a position that would make her concentrate on her reading, rather than everything but, if such a position existed. As she shuffled things around, getting into a more upright pose, something on the floor caught her eye, just peeping out from under the corner of a throw rug. She stared, and leant down to pick it up in her fingers. It was the little worry doll ... the little one that she had found on the beach and forgotten to take back. It must have surfaced again with all the furniture removals. She looked down at her other hand, and realised she had been writing in her notepad, an agry scrawl slashed across the page that in no way resembled her own curved writing. The words "I had a little dolly, I told it my little worry" were scratched on the paper, the pen strokes had broken through to the next page in spots, as though the words were trying to escape out of the note pad. She dropped the pen as though it were red hot, and turned to stare at the doll, then she dropped that too, as if it had burned her.
--
Belle, with Rudolph in tow, arrived home to find her mother singing in the kitchen. An event which, ordinarily, would not have been remarkable, was now. The past week or so Belle had been aware that her mother was not acting her normal self, most of it was probably loneliness - it was clear that she wasn't happy being at home all day long on her own. Even though Belle thoroughly enjoyed having her around when she got home from school - an event that she couldn't remember ever happening before - she didn't enjoy having her mother feeling so unhappy. Mandy tried to hide it, but Belle could tell, nevertheless. She wondered if any of it had to do with the worry doll that Alyssa had brought home and then stopped herself - where on earth had that random thought come from, how could it have made a diference? Belle had not told her mother - or anyone else for that matter - about the worry doll that she thought Rudolph had found on the beach. There was no evidence that that was what it was, anyway, she told herself.
Belle dropped her bag in her room, and took Rudolph's harness off so he could go and have a drink. She wandered into the kitchen and stood just outside the entrance, smiling as she listened to her mother singing a bad rendition of "Murder on the Dancefloor". After a little while, she staged an entrance, plugging her ears theatrically and saying "Just what is that awful noise? Mum! I think someone is trying to strange a cat in our kitchen!"
Mandy stopped mid-wail and cuffed Belle as she walked in. Belle ducked at the last minute and asked if there was anything to eat.
"There's bread and vegemite, biscuits in the jar, just the normal fare, I'm afraid. But," she gave a dramatic pause for effect before blurting out, "I've just been offered a job!"
Belle was already raiding the bisuit jar, feeling through them for the ones she liked, and she shoved one in her mouth whole before replying, "Mm Mmm Mmmmm?"
"You're spraying crumbs everywhere, Belle!" Mandy exclaimed, "Didn't your mother teach you anything?" but her voice was smiling, even as she chided her.
Belle swallowed hurriedly and repeated, "A job where?"
"Riverview Medical Centre. I'm going in tomorrow to sort out the paperwork and everything. I'll start next week."
"Hey, that's excellent news, Mum!" Belle gave her Mum a hug. As much as she loved having her Mum around the house a bit more, it was worth her going out and getting a job, if only so that she acted herself again. Hopefully, this meant that things would start to get normal again. A little voice added in her head, quite unexpectedly, "and no more worry dolls ..."
--
Belle, with Rudolph in tow, arrived home to find her mother singing in the kitchen. An event which, ordinarily, would not have been remarkable, was now. The past week or so Belle had been aware that her mother was not acting her normal self, most of it was probably loneliness - it was clear that she wasn't happy being at home all day long on her own. Even though Belle thoroughly enjoyed having her around when she got home from school - an event that she couldn't remember ever happening before - she didn't enjoy having her mother feeling so unhappy. Mandy tried to hide it, but Belle could tell, nevertheless. She wondered if any of it had to do with the worry doll that Alyssa had brought home and then stopped herself - where on earth had that random thought come from, how could it have made a diference? Belle had not told her mother - or anyone else for that matter - about the worry doll that she thought Rudolph had found on the beach. There was no evidence that that was what it was, anyway, she told herself.
Belle dropped her bag in her room, and took Rudolph's harness off so he could go and have a drink. She wandered into the kitchen and stood just outside the entrance, smiling as she listened to her mother singing a bad rendition of "Murder on the Dancefloor". After a little while, she staged an entrance, plugging her ears theatrically and saying "Just what is that awful noise? Mum! I think someone is trying to strange a cat in our kitchen!"
Mandy stopped mid-wail and cuffed Belle as she walked in. Belle ducked at the last minute and asked if there was anything to eat.
"There's bread and vegemite, biscuits in the jar, just the normal fare, I'm afraid. But," she gave a dramatic pause for effect before blurting out, "I've just been offered a job!"
Belle was already raiding the bisuit jar, feeling through them for the ones she liked, and she shoved one in her mouth whole before replying, "Mm Mmm Mmmmm?"
"You're spraying crumbs everywhere, Belle!" Mandy exclaimed, "Didn't your mother teach you anything?" but her voice was smiling, even as she chided her.
Belle swallowed hurriedly and repeated, "A job where?"
"Riverview Medical Centre. I'm going in tomorrow to sort out the paperwork and everything. I'll start next week."
"Hey, that's excellent news, Mum!" Belle gave her Mum a hug. As much as she loved having her Mum around the house a bit more, it was worth her going out and getting a job, if only so that she acted herself again. Hopefully, this meant that things would start to get normal again. A little voice added in her head, quite unexpectedly, "and no more worry dolls ..."
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