Before Mandy had even opened her eyes the light pierced her lids like blades. Her head felt about twice the size it should be, and some kind of dead animal seemed to have crawled into her mouth and taken up residence where her tongue should have been. She seemed to be on the lounge, clearly she hadn't gotten to bed last night. She couldn't hear noise. She tried opening one eye, but decided against it and squeezed it shut again. SHe contemplated getting up, but decided against it too. It just seemed too difficult right now. She tried to work out what day it was, and decided that it could be Friday. That would be OK, she had the day off for ... something. Something was happening. She would work it out, she guessed. The house seemed still. She guessed everyone was out already, or still in bed. She couldn't tell how early (or late) it was. Just that it was daylight.
--
Surprisingly enough, Belle was feeling fantastic, despite the events of the night before, and despite lying awake thinking about it in the early hours. It was though the worry dolls had sapped the strength from her last night, but when she had slept it off, she had gotten it back with interest. She felt fantastic, alive, energised. Even Rudolph could hardly keep up with her as she danced around getting ready for school.
When she made her way out of the bedroom to get breakfast, the house was quiet. Jamie had already left for the surgery, and her mother, oddly, was passed out on the couch. She could smell the cheap wine from last night surrounding ehr in a noxious cloud and, although it surprised her a little, she decided to leave her be. Perhaps she was taking this whole situation a little hard, Belle thought. It was a bit strange, though. After all, it wasn't Mandy who couldn't pick up a worry doll without finding out what worries they held, and in a rather too personal way sometimes.
--
It was some time later when Mandy became conscious again. The thumping in her head was still there, and the light still hurt her eyes. She needed a drink quite badly. She realised she was going to have to get up to get it, or die of thirst. With effort, and her eyes cracked open to mere slits, she swung her legs down on to the floor and braced herself against the arm of the couch. She stood, slowly, her head complaining, and tottered into the kitchen to find a glass of water.
Leaning over the sink, her head drooping, water still dripping from her lips and hands where she had scooped water into her parched mouth, she began to think. What had happened? Gradually, the details started to come back to her - the Monopoly game that had never gotten started, listening to Belle, then Jamie talk about the worry dolls, holding the dice and shaking, shaking (always the dolls), listening to the stories of what they had seen in the dressing table mirror, sharing her own (oh god had she ... ?) story from the mirror. She looked down at her hand, and realised she had poured herself a glass of sherry from the pantry. She shrugged, drank it down. The headache started to fade, and she began to smile instead.
--
Alyssa half opened one eye, and decided to close it again. She wasn't getting up yet.
--
Jamie was at work, but his mind was focussed on a mirror. He had seen things in the dressing table mirror last night that not only did he think he would never see but, more to the point, things he didn't think he would ever believe that he had seen. The strange thing was not even that though. The strangest part was that he wasn't even quite sure what it was that he had seen. He knew that it had started off like smoke - as though someone had blown a great lungful of cigarette smoke at the glass, but from the wrong side. Then, the smoke had started to boil and shimmer, and images started to apepar in it. What, exactly, those images were, he couldn't see. Faces certainly, but what else. Hands? Maybe. Animals? There could have been. It was as though he hadn't seen them with his eyes, but with his mind. He guessed maybe that was what had actually happened. Perhaps these things hadn't happened in the mirror, but in his own head. But what had Alyssa seen? She had started to describe it, she was acting as Belle's eyes, just as Belle had asked too, and her description had been close to what Jamie had seen, although her words hadn't been able to convey the sense of muted horror that the images had seeemed to contain. But what had she seen after that? Was it the same as what he had seen? But what had he seen? Did Alyssa know what she had seen. And then came the thought he had been trying not to think - what had Belle seen?
--
Alyssa had located her phone, gone to the toilet, and crawled back to bed. Hiding under the doona, she quickly tapped in a text message and sent it to Luke. She droped the phone on the floor and was just dozing off again when the soft double beep of an incoming message woke her. She snaked a hand out and retrieved the phone, "Im on my way xx" it read. She smiled and dropped the phone again. Then pulled the doona up over her head and dropped back into a snooze.
When Luke arrived less than half an hour later, Alyssa was dead to the world. He snuck into the room, stepped out of his jeans, and lifted a corner of the doona to sneak in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and she moaned slightly in her sleep, and snuggled her sleep warm body into the curve of his.
--
Friday afternoon, and Belle and Kayla arrived, laughing over a story that Belle was telling about one of the boys in school. Belle stopped outside to unleash Rudolph, and then went to unlock the front door and let them both in. She frowned when the key turned easily in the lock, and pushed open. Surely neither Jamie nor her mother would be home yet. She walked in, cautious, and called out for her mum. Kayla trailed along behind her. Belle heard noise coming from the direction of the dining table, and called out "Who is it?" before they could get too close. She jumped when a voice responded, "Belle. It's me, Jamie." and then realised who it was and smiled instead.
"Jamie! I thought you were at work! You gave me a fright."
"Sorry, Belle."
Belle paused, and then asked, "What's wrong?"
There was silence while Jamie gathered his thoughts, "It's weird how you do that Belle."
Belle shrugged, she had been told it many times, and although Jamie had become a member of the family now, he still sometimes remarked on somehting that the rest of the family just took in their stride. She waited for him to go on.
Eventually, realising Belle wasn't going to let him off the hook, he gave a bit of a sigh, "How about you sit down and I'll make you a cup of coffee?"
Kayla realised what was going on, and went to make a gracious exit. Belle, who hadn't told Kayla anything about worry dolls or visions apearing in dressing table mirrors, let her go. She wanted to hear what Jamie had to say, she had a feeling it was important, but she didn't want to drag Kayla into the situation. She told her to call her in the morning, and they would go shopping, or to the beach or something. Kayla said she would, but Belle caught the scent of a lie. She was thinking that Belle was having some serious kind of family trouble, she guessed, and Belle decided that she would make sure to go out tomorrow to make it up to her, and explain that everything was okay, although she doubted she would tell her the whole story.
By the time Kayla had left to walk the few blocks to her own house, Jamie had set a cup of steaming coffee in front of Belle, and sat down at the table across from her. Belle realised that they were sitting in the same positions as they had been the night before. The Monopoly board lay on the table, the pieces packed away but the box remaining as a reminder. Belle pulled it towards her and wordlessly started setting up a game, as Jamie began to talk.
--
"We were supposed to be leaving on our holiday today." he started, bluntly and Belle realised that she had forgotten all about it. There had been too much happen in between the time she had been told, and the time it was to happen. She waited for him to go on. "Anyway, Mandy was going to take todsay off, to pack ands tuff I guess. I was goign to work this morning, and then come home at lunch time. We were going to leave around," he checked his watch, "around an hour ago. But we. Well, we haven't. Obviously." he took a deep breath, and rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. By the time he looked up, Belle had finished setting up the board. Without discussion, he picked up a dice, threw it, and Belle did the same time. She touched the raised faces of the dices and smiled, then picked up both of them, and rolled them together, moved her piece. "Bought" she said softly, and they exchanged cash and a title deed card. The game continued almost ritualistically as Jamie continued, "Anyway, I got home around one or so, and Mandy was ... she was ... Bought." A quick exchange of cash again, and Jamie picked up the narrative, "Mandy was passed out on the couch. She's been drinking. There's an empty gin bottle in the bin."
"Bought."
"I didn't want to look, it feels like I'm spying on her, but ... I had to, Belle. I had to know. You owe me fifty dollars for opera tickets."
Belle handed the cash over, "Where is she now? She's not on the couch."
"Thanks. No, she's not." Jamie added the cash to the pile in front of him, and Belle picked up the dice, rolled, "I moved her into the bedroom."
"Bought."
"I didn't know what else to do, but I didn't want to leave her on the couch. She didn't even wake up. Bought. She's not catatonic or anything, she doesn't need to go to the hospital, but she's had a ..."
"That'll cost you fourteen dollars."
Jamie picked out a ten and four one dollar notes, and handed them over, "She's had an awful lot to drink. I guess she'll sleep it off and it'll all be okay." He paused, watching Belle count out a roll of eight. She picked up a card, and returned it to the pile, moved her piece around the board, and collected two hundred dollars salary. She didn't speak.
"I just, well, I've cancelled the weekend away. I can't very well just bundle her into the car like ..." he waved his hand in the direction of the bedroom, "well, like that." Jamie picked up the dice and paused, holding them cupped in front of him, "Do you think it's because of the shock?"
Belle didn't say anything, but she was thinking hard, and not about the game.
"Bought." Jamie said, then "I mean the shock of the, of seeing the ... stuff ... in the mirror. Maybe seeing you last night when you were holding the ... that was, well that was pretty scary for her, I think.
"Scary for her, you think?" Belle muttered sarcastically, and Jamie had the good grace to blush, even though Belle couldn't see it. She picked up the dice, rolled, and landed on one of Jamie's properties.
"Twenty three dollars." he stated, and she handed it over. "I don't know what else could have ... could have, brought it on, I guess."
There was silence, and the game progressed with as little conversation as required. Belle achieved a full set, and started building on them. It was when Jamie landed on the set and didn't have the cash that she decided to speak, "I want to look in the mirror again."
Jamie looked up from mortgaging properties, "You ... want to do that again?" he was shocked, he certainly had no desire to repeat last night's experience. But then, the more he thought about it, the more the idea was strangely attractive. Maybe it would provide an answer, maybe he could work out what he had seen the first time, if only he could look again.
"Yes." Belle said, finally, "But without Alyssa. I want you to be my eyes this time."
Behind These Eyes - Part Fifteen
When Belle woke up it was early and the house was silent. She didn't want to hit the button on the clock to find out what time it was, even its soft voice was too loud in the quiet hours before dawn. Rudolph was asleep on his bed in the corner of the room, she could hear him snuffling quietly in his sleep. She lay in bed, thinking over the events of the night before. She wondered what it was she was tapping into. Some kind of collective conscious of the dolls - if dolls could be said to have a conscious mind. These ones certainly seemed to. She wondered what it was that the dolls wanted. Because surely they wanted something. She guessed it was up to her to find out. If she work out what they wanted, maybe she could find a way to give it to them. Maybe that would silence them. Like the old Halloween rhetoric about the dead haunting the living until they had made amends - perhaps the dolls needed to do something, or express something, or make contact for some reason. She imagined it had something to do with the worries they held - after all, that's how they had manifested themselves, in terms of the worries they each possessed. Each doll only seemed to have one, at least only one that they were sharing with Belle, but that one worry had - in the four cases so far - been a big one. A gushing head wound, being hit with a hot frying pan, these weren't minor worries. Belle wondered if maybe she was expected to track down the perpertrators of these vicious acts, but that reasoning didn't stand for the man with the heart attack - surely no one in that situation could rightly be called a perpertrator. Maybe they were premonitions, and she was supposed to be somehow avoiding them, stopping them occurring. But she had no way of identifying the victims. When she experienced the worries, when she held the dolls in her hand, she always took the part of the victim. She felt what the victim felt, smelled what the victim smelled. She didn't see the victim though, she didn't know whether they were young or old, tall or short, male or female. She didn't know who they were, where they were, or what had gotten them into the situation they were in. As much as Belle felt in control at the time, now she just felt lost and very confused. What did the dolls want from her? And how was she going to deliver it?
Behind These Eyes - Part Fourteen
The two girls finished their version of events, including their account of what Luke had seen in the dressing table mirror and Alyssa's theory that Belle's disability made her somehow more receptive to the dolls' worries. Alyssa looked at Belle, wondering if she had anything further to add and, when her sister didn't speak further, she looked at first her mother, and then Jamie, to guage their reactions. They both looked stunned, but not as stunned as perhaps they should have been. Mandy had moved to the kitchen table and sat down during the recount, and now she was idly shaking the pair of dice from the game in her hand, as though if she rolled them, they would give her an answer. Of course they would, but not an answer that would help her unravel this mystery. Jamie took a breath, as though to speak, and then let it out again without saying anything. Mandy seemed as though she hadn't even registered the silence, her head down, her hands with the dice inside them shaking, shaking.
--
Eventually, Jamie found the words he wanted to say, and began saying them. Slowly at first, but gradually warming to the narrative, he told of the endless worry dolls the two of them had found - in the salad, in the surgery. In his shoe. Eventually, he came around to the old man he - just like Luke - had seen in the dressing table mirror. Belle looked up as he recounted the story of the man apparently having a heart attack and passing away on the bed, but said nothing. He spoke of the indentation the reflection had left on the bed, and of his feelings of impotence.
Mandy looked up as Jamie stumbled to a halt, and added her own story. Jamie had not yet heard it in full, and he listened as raptly as the two girls as she spoke of the girl she had seen - no more than twelve, and the amazing head wound she had spouted while Mandy's head was turned, looking for the girl in the real room behind her.
All four of them had made the connection now, between the experiences Belle had had with each of the worry dolls, and the visions they had seen in the mirror. But what it meant, none of them could begin to guess.
--
There were a lot of pauses, a lot of "ummms" and a lot of nervous glances, but eventually, they decided to go into the master bedroom and peer in the mirror to see what evils lurked there. Belle had experienced the worries of four of the dolls, but between them - and including the now absent Luke - they had seen only three in the mirror. As preparation, Belle had been convinced to hold the doll she had found in the Monopoly box to determine the nature of the scenario. It was the first time she had voluntarily picked up a doll for a second experience, and the knowledge of what was coming made her nervous. Alyssa picked up the doll and Belle held out her hands to take it, just as they had on the beach the last time. Belle's heart was racing even before the little doll dropped into her cupped palms, and this time the experience was stronger, more powerful than ever before. The rushing noise filled her head, blotting out all other sound, and she immediately began to struggle to breathe. As she tried to suck in air - a blockage like a wet rag low in her throat, and restricting any attempt at respiration, a vague idea came to her that she should drop the doll. The sentence made little sense to her, what she wanted was air (drop the doll) and she sucked harder, in vain. Then even the lack of oxygen (drop the doll) started to seem unimportant, and the rushing sound (i had a little dolly) faded and seemed almost comforting. She began to drift, her mind (now they're all dead) empty and her panic a lifetime away. She floated on the rushing sound, like a radio that had slipped off the station and was picking up nothing but static (i'm so sorry), and just let go ...
--
Alyssa was watching Belle, wondering when she was going to drop the doll, and it was only when Mandy began screaming that she was suffocating that she realised it has been too long. Jamie was jumping to his feet and trying to revive her and Mandy was still screaming when Alyssa reached out almost casually, and slapped the little doll out of her sister's hands. Almost immediately, Belle took a deep, shuddering breath, and her eyes flickered open. She frowned, and blinked a few times, apaprently totally bemused at the panicked faces around her. "What happened?" she croaked, her throat still dry, "What just ..." she put her hands down on the table, and Alyssa swept the doll out of her reach. Mandy was still hysterical, yelling at Alyssa that she could have killed her, yelling at Jamie for not having reacted sooner, yelling at Belle for having tried such a crazy stunt in the first place. It was a state common to parents - anger borne through fear, and subsequent relief.
"It was the doll," Alyssa said quietly, "The worry doll."
Belle frowned for a moment before the memory came flooding back at her. The doll, she remembered now. She hadn't really been drowning, but the doll apparently had been worrying about it.
--
When Mandy finally stopped yelling at everyone, she looked around as though she had just woken from a stupor, and went into the kitchen. She found a wine glass in the cupboard, and fished a cheap bottle of cooking wine out of the fridge. She didn't drink much usually, and it was in there to be used for deglazing the pan when she was cooking, but now she sloshed a good dose into the glass. She drank it down like a kid will glug a medicine cup full of cough mixture, and grimaced at the burning sensation as it wound its way towards her stomach. Fighting the urge to throw the alcohol back up and into the sink, she poured another glass, and hurled the finished bottle into the bin. She picked up the glass and made her way somewhat unsteadily back into the dining room. Jamie raised an eyebrow as she moved past him, but she said nothing. She didn't trust herself to speak.
--
When they were all sitting at the table again, Alyssa looked around at all of them. She had been taking charge of the evening all along so far, and saw no reason not to continue. Jamie and Belle both looked forlorn, Jamie staring at his hands as the lay on the table, only his restless fingers tying themselves into knots giving away his nervousness. Belle looked lost in thought, her mind a million miles away as she turned the problem over in her mind. Mandy looked spaced out, and Alyssa realised that this wasn't her first glass of wine. Her mother didn't drink much, but even she couldn't get drunk on only three tentative sips of cooking wine. Alyysa cleared her throat. Jamie looked up at her, the other two seemed stuck in their own worlds regardless.
"Well, are we going to go and look in the mirror?"
"Liss, I'm not so sure that that's a great ..." Jamie started.
"Yes." Belle interupted. "Yes. I wanted to do it beforen just to find out what happens, but now I think we don't have a choice. We have to look."
This was greeted with silence.
"I need you to be the eyes, Liss. You need to look, and tell me what you can see. Can you do that?"
Alyssa, realising that the control she had had - if she had ever had it - had been wrested from her now. The control, the power, lay with Belle and she realised that it really had all along. Belle was the one who could receive the dolls' messages, and so she was the one who would call the shots. She needed Alyssa to 'be her eyes' as she put it, but she was clearly in control. Alyssa nodded, cleared her throat again, and said, "of course I can."
Belle nodded, although she had known all along that Alyssa wouldn't refuse her, and said softly, "Let's go, then."
--
Belle stood, Alyssa stood with her. Jamie sat watching the two of them, and eventually stood too. Mandy drained her drink, and put her head down on her arms. Belle wondered idly where Rudolph was, it wasn't like him not to be sitting under the kitchen table. Perhaps he had wandered off when all the excitement began. Suddenly, she didn't seem nervous about entering her mother's room, although it been only mere days ago that the idea had scared the life out of her. She wished Rudolph was around, to give her an indication about how she should be feeling about going into the room, wondering if her own sixth sense was fooling her into a false sense of security. Redgardless, she walked slowly to the room, taking each step carefully, and measuring the distances with care, to avoid running into the walls. She didn't want to go rushing in, just in case she missed something important. She didn't know what that might be, but she was sure she would recognise it when it happened.
--
Alyssa followed Belle into the room, at the snail's pace she set. She had a sudden image from a book she had owned as a child, of a family going on a bear hunt, and creeping through various obstacles - long wavy grass, thick oozy mud, and a whirling swirling snowstorm - and the thought nearly made her giggle, in spite of the seriousness that had descended over them. Jamie was following closely behind her, she could hear him breathing hot and fast. Alyssa suspected that her mother, still in the kitchen, had dropped into an alcoholic stupor. Well, she couldn't really blame her. The idea seemed rather appealing even to Alyssa, if her urge to just retreat from the whole messy experience hadn't been completely overcome by her curiosity. When Belle reached the bedroom door she paused. If Alyssa didn't know better, she would have thought that she was looking for something in the room, but as it was she guessed she was waiting for a feeling, an emotion, a signal of some sort. Alyssa and Jamie waited impatiently, eager to just get into the room and discover what lay in the mirror. The theatrics seemed uneccesary and over dramatic.
--
Belle wasn't aware of the impatience of the two behind her, in fact she wasn't really aware of them at all. Their presence was not what was important to her right now, although she knew that Alyssa's eyes would become important to her soon enough. For now, her own internal eye could see more than Alyssa's ordinary ones ever would. She stepped gingerly into the room, and was unsurprised when Rudolph padded out from underneath the bed. He came up to her, lifting his head for a pat. She crouched beside him, fondled his soft ears, and whispered to him, "What is it, Rude?" she murmered, "What can you see, hmm?". Rudolph responded by nuzzling her cheek, and she interpreted it to mean that the room was clear. She wasn't just unthreatened by anything, but was being invited in to partake of the super-normal events that the worry dolls wanted her to see, she imagined.
"Okay, let's go." she murmered softly, more to herself than to Alyssa and Jamie, and took the few steps over to stand in front of the dressing table. Rudolph stood close by her side, she could feel his heart beating against her leg even through the fabric of her jeans.
--
Alyssa and Jamie shuffled into the room behind Belle and Rudolph, and the four of them stood staring into the mirror, waiting for it to share its secret. Alyssa started to feel a little silly. Jamie was about to pipe up and declare that clearly they were making a big fuss over absolutely nothing, when Belle began to murmer under her breath. At first they couldn't work out what she was saying, and then Alyssa picked up the rythym ...
... I'm so very sorry
I had a little dolly
I told it my little worry
And then it all turned red
And now they're all dead
I'm so very sorry
I had a little dollly ...
Belle continued the mantra, and reluctantly Alyssa picked it up as well, murmering the words under her breath. Jamie stood looking at first Belle, then Alyssa. Even he was beginning to notice the electricity in the air, the choking feeling that was rising up and threatening to consume them all. He wanted to yell out, to get them to stop chanting, but the rhyme went through him, piercing him and making unable (or unwilling?) to call this crazy idea off.
The girls kept chanting, Alyssa and Jamie both staring into the mirror. Rudolph continued to pant, his eyes locked on Belle. Belle, for her part, had her eyes closed - all the better to see you with, my dear, she thought crazily, incoherently - and was swaying slightly on her feet. Jamie watched her image wavering in the mirror, and wondered if the only thing he would see reflected there would be Belle fainting. He positioned himself so that he could catch her if she fell, and tried to watch the reflection of the room in the mirror, rather than Belle herself.
As the chanting continued, the tension in the room continued to rise and, just as Belle began to think that she was going to spontaneously combust from the pressure building up inside her head, she heard Alyssa cry out behind her. A moment later Jamie's voice joined her, the words indistinct, barely distinguishable, "Oh my dear sweet Lord! What the hell is that?"
Belle tried not to allow the voices behind her to break her concetration, although she needed to hear what it was that Alyssa could see. Come on, Liss, she begged silently - to open her mouth now would be to break the spell - come on and tell me what's happening, Liss.
--
Finally, Alyssa realised that she needed to explain what she was seeing. This was what Belle had meant, she suddenly thought, when had asked Alyssa to 'be her eyes'. Alyssa had been Belle's eyes nearly all her life, but this was a completely different demand, she thought, and it became clear why Belle had asked specifically this time. Because, whether Belle had understood it or not, being her eyes here - now - was a lot more complciated than telling her where on the plate the sausages were. She opened her mouth, tried to form what her eyes were seeing into some kind of words, and began to stammer, "It's a ... well, mostly it's smoke. In the mirror, the reflection. It's white, like smoke off a ... well like smoke from a smoke machine, not like smoke from a fire." she paused again, trying to explain the image further, and Jamie jumped in, his voice excited and nervous, "But there's faces in it, Belle. All different faces. They're mostly sad, but some are angry, and some are ... " at this point, Belle realised that she was no longer hearing the two of them with her ears. Their voices no longer contained words, but images, ideas, emotions. She was tapping directly into their thoughts, she realised so suddenly that she nearly severed the connection with her surprise. Instead, she tried to tune into them, but she couldn't distinguish Alyssa from Jamie and the two of them from the rest of the images swirling in her mind. She attempted to unravel the ideas, find the end of a string so she could follow it through the tangled pile, but every time she grasped one concept, one idea, another one crashed in on top of it and she lost her grip. Eventually, it became too much for her, and she let go. Everything went black.
--
Alyssa saw Belle drop to the ground, and realised that she had stopped actually speaking. Even as she rushed to help her sister, she wondered when that had happened. She had still been thinking that she was speaking out aloud, but now she tried to recall the words she had used, she couldn't. She knelt beside Belle, and Jamie appeared at her elbow. The strange feeling in the room had dissapated now - the sense of crowding had cleared, and the claustrophic atmosphere had washed away, like summer heat after an evening storm. She looked down into Belle's face, and was surprised to find that she was breathing normally, her face clear. Jamie knelt beside her, and said gruffly, "Let's get her into bed." Then clarified, "her bed. Get her out of this room." He picked her up as though she was a baby, her prostrate form flopping over both his arms as he raised himself, with her, into a standing position. Alyssa followed along behind them, noticing as she did that the dressing table mirror - free now from smoke and ethereal faces - had a crack running right the way across its middle, even through the wings, although they were seperate pieces of glass. She shivered suddenly, as a finger of ice crept up her spine, and then followed Jamie and her sister out of the room.
--
Minutes after Jamie laid Belle on her own bed, she opened her eyes. There was no confusion, no moment of wondering where she was. One moment, everything had been black and voices and thoughts and pictures had been intertwined around her, the next, she was lying face up on the bed in her room. She sat up, and Rudolph was at her side, licking her hand. She smiled, gave him a pat and hugged him awkwardly around his head. "Good boy, you're a good boy."
When Alyssa poked her head into Belle's bedroom later on, she was in her pyjamas and tucked up under the doona. Alyssa smiled and, although she badly wanted to know what Belle had just experienced, she let her sister sleep.
Back in her own flat, Alyssa made herself a cup of coffee. The experience hadn't made her tired, as it had Belle, it had gotten her keyed up, excited, nervous. She wanted - needed - an answer to this mystery. The scientist in her demanded it.
--
Eventually, Jamie found the words he wanted to say, and began saying them. Slowly at first, but gradually warming to the narrative, he told of the endless worry dolls the two of them had found - in the salad, in the surgery. In his shoe. Eventually, he came around to the old man he - just like Luke - had seen in the dressing table mirror. Belle looked up as he recounted the story of the man apparently having a heart attack and passing away on the bed, but said nothing. He spoke of the indentation the reflection had left on the bed, and of his feelings of impotence.
Mandy looked up as Jamie stumbled to a halt, and added her own story. Jamie had not yet heard it in full, and he listened as raptly as the two girls as she spoke of the girl she had seen - no more than twelve, and the amazing head wound she had spouted while Mandy's head was turned, looking for the girl in the real room behind her.
All four of them had made the connection now, between the experiences Belle had had with each of the worry dolls, and the visions they had seen in the mirror. But what it meant, none of them could begin to guess.
--
There were a lot of pauses, a lot of "ummms" and a lot of nervous glances, but eventually, they decided to go into the master bedroom and peer in the mirror to see what evils lurked there. Belle had experienced the worries of four of the dolls, but between them - and including the now absent Luke - they had seen only three in the mirror. As preparation, Belle had been convinced to hold the doll she had found in the Monopoly box to determine the nature of the scenario. It was the first time she had voluntarily picked up a doll for a second experience, and the knowledge of what was coming made her nervous. Alyssa picked up the doll and Belle held out her hands to take it, just as they had on the beach the last time. Belle's heart was racing even before the little doll dropped into her cupped palms, and this time the experience was stronger, more powerful than ever before. The rushing noise filled her head, blotting out all other sound, and she immediately began to struggle to breathe. As she tried to suck in air - a blockage like a wet rag low in her throat, and restricting any attempt at respiration, a vague idea came to her that she should drop the doll. The sentence made little sense to her, what she wanted was air (drop the doll) and she sucked harder, in vain. Then even the lack of oxygen (drop the doll) started to seem unimportant, and the rushing sound (i had a little dolly) faded and seemed almost comforting. She began to drift, her mind (now they're all dead) empty and her panic a lifetime away. She floated on the rushing sound, like a radio that had slipped off the station and was picking up nothing but static (i'm so sorry), and just let go ...
--
Alyssa was watching Belle, wondering when she was going to drop the doll, and it was only when Mandy began screaming that she was suffocating that she realised it has been too long. Jamie was jumping to his feet and trying to revive her and Mandy was still screaming when Alyssa reached out almost casually, and slapped the little doll out of her sister's hands. Almost immediately, Belle took a deep, shuddering breath, and her eyes flickered open. She frowned, and blinked a few times, apaprently totally bemused at the panicked faces around her. "What happened?" she croaked, her throat still dry, "What just ..." she put her hands down on the table, and Alyssa swept the doll out of her reach. Mandy was still hysterical, yelling at Alyssa that she could have killed her, yelling at Jamie for not having reacted sooner, yelling at Belle for having tried such a crazy stunt in the first place. It was a state common to parents - anger borne through fear, and subsequent relief.
"It was the doll," Alyssa said quietly, "The worry doll."
Belle frowned for a moment before the memory came flooding back at her. The doll, she remembered now. She hadn't really been drowning, but the doll apparently had been worrying about it.
--
When Mandy finally stopped yelling at everyone, she looked around as though she had just woken from a stupor, and went into the kitchen. She found a wine glass in the cupboard, and fished a cheap bottle of cooking wine out of the fridge. She didn't drink much usually, and it was in there to be used for deglazing the pan when she was cooking, but now she sloshed a good dose into the glass. She drank it down like a kid will glug a medicine cup full of cough mixture, and grimaced at the burning sensation as it wound its way towards her stomach. Fighting the urge to throw the alcohol back up and into the sink, she poured another glass, and hurled the finished bottle into the bin. She picked up the glass and made her way somewhat unsteadily back into the dining room. Jamie raised an eyebrow as she moved past him, but she said nothing. She didn't trust herself to speak.
--
When they were all sitting at the table again, Alyssa looked around at all of them. She had been taking charge of the evening all along so far, and saw no reason not to continue. Jamie and Belle both looked forlorn, Jamie staring at his hands as the lay on the table, only his restless fingers tying themselves into knots giving away his nervousness. Belle looked lost in thought, her mind a million miles away as she turned the problem over in her mind. Mandy looked spaced out, and Alyssa realised that this wasn't her first glass of wine. Her mother didn't drink much, but even she couldn't get drunk on only three tentative sips of cooking wine. Alyysa cleared her throat. Jamie looked up at her, the other two seemed stuck in their own worlds regardless.
"Well, are we going to go and look in the mirror?"
"Liss, I'm not so sure that that's a great ..." Jamie started.
"Yes." Belle interupted. "Yes. I wanted to do it beforen just to find out what happens, but now I think we don't have a choice. We have to look."
This was greeted with silence.
"I need you to be the eyes, Liss. You need to look, and tell me what you can see. Can you do that?"
Alyssa, realising that the control she had had - if she had ever had it - had been wrested from her now. The control, the power, lay with Belle and she realised that it really had all along. Belle was the one who could receive the dolls' messages, and so she was the one who would call the shots. She needed Alyssa to 'be her eyes' as she put it, but she was clearly in control. Alyssa nodded, cleared her throat again, and said, "of course I can."
Belle nodded, although she had known all along that Alyssa wouldn't refuse her, and said softly, "Let's go, then."
--
Belle stood, Alyssa stood with her. Jamie sat watching the two of them, and eventually stood too. Mandy drained her drink, and put her head down on her arms. Belle wondered idly where Rudolph was, it wasn't like him not to be sitting under the kitchen table. Perhaps he had wandered off when all the excitement began. Suddenly, she didn't seem nervous about entering her mother's room, although it been only mere days ago that the idea had scared the life out of her. She wished Rudolph was around, to give her an indication about how she should be feeling about going into the room, wondering if her own sixth sense was fooling her into a false sense of security. Redgardless, she walked slowly to the room, taking each step carefully, and measuring the distances with care, to avoid running into the walls. She didn't want to go rushing in, just in case she missed something important. She didn't know what that might be, but she was sure she would recognise it when it happened.
--
Alyssa followed Belle into the room, at the snail's pace she set. She had a sudden image from a book she had owned as a child, of a family going on a bear hunt, and creeping through various obstacles - long wavy grass, thick oozy mud, and a whirling swirling snowstorm - and the thought nearly made her giggle, in spite of the seriousness that had descended over them. Jamie was following closely behind her, she could hear him breathing hot and fast. Alyssa suspected that her mother, still in the kitchen, had dropped into an alcoholic stupor. Well, she couldn't really blame her. The idea seemed rather appealing even to Alyssa, if her urge to just retreat from the whole messy experience hadn't been completely overcome by her curiosity. When Belle reached the bedroom door she paused. If Alyssa didn't know better, she would have thought that she was looking for something in the room, but as it was she guessed she was waiting for a feeling, an emotion, a signal of some sort. Alyssa and Jamie waited impatiently, eager to just get into the room and discover what lay in the mirror. The theatrics seemed uneccesary and over dramatic.
--
Belle wasn't aware of the impatience of the two behind her, in fact she wasn't really aware of them at all. Their presence was not what was important to her right now, although she knew that Alyssa's eyes would become important to her soon enough. For now, her own internal eye could see more than Alyssa's ordinary ones ever would. She stepped gingerly into the room, and was unsurprised when Rudolph padded out from underneath the bed. He came up to her, lifting his head for a pat. She crouched beside him, fondled his soft ears, and whispered to him, "What is it, Rude?" she murmered, "What can you see, hmm?". Rudolph responded by nuzzling her cheek, and she interpreted it to mean that the room was clear. She wasn't just unthreatened by anything, but was being invited in to partake of the super-normal events that the worry dolls wanted her to see, she imagined.
"Okay, let's go." she murmered softly, more to herself than to Alyssa and Jamie, and took the few steps over to stand in front of the dressing table. Rudolph stood close by her side, she could feel his heart beating against her leg even through the fabric of her jeans.
--
Alyssa and Jamie shuffled into the room behind Belle and Rudolph, and the four of them stood staring into the mirror, waiting for it to share its secret. Alyssa started to feel a little silly. Jamie was about to pipe up and declare that clearly they were making a big fuss over absolutely nothing, when Belle began to murmer under her breath. At first they couldn't work out what she was saying, and then Alyssa picked up the rythym ...
... I'm so very sorry
I had a little dolly
I told it my little worry
And then it all turned red
And now they're all dead
I'm so very sorry
I had a little dollly ...
Belle continued the mantra, and reluctantly Alyssa picked it up as well, murmering the words under her breath. Jamie stood looking at first Belle, then Alyssa. Even he was beginning to notice the electricity in the air, the choking feeling that was rising up and threatening to consume them all. He wanted to yell out, to get them to stop chanting, but the rhyme went through him, piercing him and making unable (or unwilling?) to call this crazy idea off.
The girls kept chanting, Alyssa and Jamie both staring into the mirror. Rudolph continued to pant, his eyes locked on Belle. Belle, for her part, had her eyes closed - all the better to see you with, my dear, she thought crazily, incoherently - and was swaying slightly on her feet. Jamie watched her image wavering in the mirror, and wondered if the only thing he would see reflected there would be Belle fainting. He positioned himself so that he could catch her if she fell, and tried to watch the reflection of the room in the mirror, rather than Belle herself.
As the chanting continued, the tension in the room continued to rise and, just as Belle began to think that she was going to spontaneously combust from the pressure building up inside her head, she heard Alyssa cry out behind her. A moment later Jamie's voice joined her, the words indistinct, barely distinguishable, "Oh my dear sweet Lord! What the hell is that?"
Belle tried not to allow the voices behind her to break her concetration, although she needed to hear what it was that Alyssa could see. Come on, Liss, she begged silently - to open her mouth now would be to break the spell - come on and tell me what's happening, Liss.
--
Finally, Alyssa realised that she needed to explain what she was seeing. This was what Belle had meant, she suddenly thought, when had asked Alyssa to 'be her eyes'. Alyssa had been Belle's eyes nearly all her life, but this was a completely different demand, she thought, and it became clear why Belle had asked specifically this time. Because, whether Belle had understood it or not, being her eyes here - now - was a lot more complciated than telling her where on the plate the sausages were. She opened her mouth, tried to form what her eyes were seeing into some kind of words, and began to stammer, "It's a ... well, mostly it's smoke. In the mirror, the reflection. It's white, like smoke off a ... well like smoke from a smoke machine, not like smoke from a fire." she paused again, trying to explain the image further, and Jamie jumped in, his voice excited and nervous, "But there's faces in it, Belle. All different faces. They're mostly sad, but some are angry, and some are ... " at this point, Belle realised that she was no longer hearing the two of them with her ears. Their voices no longer contained words, but images, ideas, emotions. She was tapping directly into their thoughts, she realised so suddenly that she nearly severed the connection with her surprise. Instead, she tried to tune into them, but she couldn't distinguish Alyssa from Jamie and the two of them from the rest of the images swirling in her mind. She attempted to unravel the ideas, find the end of a string so she could follow it through the tangled pile, but every time she grasped one concept, one idea, another one crashed in on top of it and she lost her grip. Eventually, it became too much for her, and she let go. Everything went black.
--
Alyssa saw Belle drop to the ground, and realised that she had stopped actually speaking. Even as she rushed to help her sister, she wondered when that had happened. She had still been thinking that she was speaking out aloud, but now she tried to recall the words she had used, she couldn't. She knelt beside Belle, and Jamie appeared at her elbow. The strange feeling in the room had dissapated now - the sense of crowding had cleared, and the claustrophic atmosphere had washed away, like summer heat after an evening storm. She looked down into Belle's face, and was surprised to find that she was breathing normally, her face clear. Jamie knelt beside her, and said gruffly, "Let's get her into bed." Then clarified, "her bed. Get her out of this room." He picked her up as though she was a baby, her prostrate form flopping over both his arms as he raised himself, with her, into a standing position. Alyssa followed along behind them, noticing as she did that the dressing table mirror - free now from smoke and ethereal faces - had a crack running right the way across its middle, even through the wings, although they were seperate pieces of glass. She shivered suddenly, as a finger of ice crept up her spine, and then followed Jamie and her sister out of the room.
--
Minutes after Jamie laid Belle on her own bed, she opened her eyes. There was no confusion, no moment of wondering where she was. One moment, everything had been black and voices and thoughts and pictures had been intertwined around her, the next, she was lying face up on the bed in her room. She sat up, and Rudolph was at her side, licking her hand. She smiled, gave him a pat and hugged him awkwardly around his head. "Good boy, you're a good boy."
When Alyssa poked her head into Belle's bedroom later on, she was in her pyjamas and tucked up under the doona. Alyssa smiled and, although she badly wanted to know what Belle had just experienced, she let her sister sleep.
Back in her own flat, Alyssa made herself a cup of coffee. The experience hadn't made her tired, as it had Belle, it had gotten her keyed up, excited, nervous. She wanted - needed - an answer to this mystery. The scientist in her demanded it.
Behind These Eyes - Part Thirteen
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.
--
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.
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