Dolly

The doll lay by the side of the street as if left behind by a careless hand. I had almost crossed the site before the fact that a perfectly good looking doll was lying there permeated through my thoughts and I stopped to look at it.

I retraced my steps and looked at the doll again. It was a neat little thing in a pink frock and golden hair flowing down her back and tied up with a pretty pink bow at the end.

I looked around for any child who might have dropped it. There was no one in sight. The thought crossed that it maybe a bomb, left there by miscreants who wanted to surely hurt some children.

I kept looking at it for a while and then my curiosity took the better of me and I picked it up. After a quick check to see if it had any wires or batteries sticking out I dusted off the loose dirt that was clinging to it.

Still uncertain what to do with it; I looked around for someone who would be the owner. The street looked completely deserted. Finally taken in by the charm of the doll I decide to take it home convincing myself that day after when I have a holiday I can meet the children who play here and ask them if anyone has lost a doll.

I walk into my empty flat and switch on the lights. The doll looks dirtier in the bright light than it did outside and I decide to give it a bath.

Childhood memories flood back as I make a mixture of shampoo and warm water. The ritual baths we (me and my sister) gave our dolls and the sitting with them in the sun for hours to wait for them to dry and then the brushing of their hair and designing of accessories all come back.

After the bath the doll looked cleaner and also funnily sleepy, her glass bead eyes seemed to droop, I put her in my bed and then made myself a big salami sandwich with lots of cheese. I was feeling famished and elated at the same time. I thought of calling my best friend to tell her about the doll, but then thought it would perhaps be silly to call up a busy mother of two at ten at night to say that I found a doll. She might say that why make such an effort, come over and play with the ones my kids have discarded whenever you wish.

I go back to the bed, the doll seems asleep. I move to the other side and slowly slide into bed, chiding myself mentally all the while for such childish thoughts.

I switch on the bedside lamp and reach out for the current book I am reading, it’s called ‘The Memory Keeper’s Daughter’ about how a father abandons one of his twins when he finds out that the child suffers from Down’s syndrome. Reading at night is something every single person who lives on his or her own will identify with, since this is the only way to lull yourself to sleep.

The story is engrossing and as I flip page after page, I reach out a hand to touch my new found companion. I rest my hand on her tummy and go on reading. After a while some movement startles me and I drop the book. I felt the doll move. I remove the covers and look at her closely and there is no mistake her tummy seems to heave slightly as if she were breathing. I look more closely and there is no doubt. SHE IS BREATHING!!!

What do I do? I panic. I wonder if I should throw out the doll, maybe this was some kind of voodoo. But then as the doll continues to sleep and even takes a slight turn and puts her thumb in her mouth I wonder what kind of voodoo would bring so much happiness that the doll had brought me in a few hours. Reviving memories, giving me pleasant thoughts and some excitement in my still as stone life.

I decide to let the doll sleep and then it strikes me that if she breathes, she probably eats also and must be hungry. I wonder what would be the right thing to feed her and then settle on milk.

I go back to the kitchen, get the milk out and warm it slightly, I check the milk on my wrist something I have seen my friends do before they feed their kids, It seems the right temperature, now the next problem how to feed the doll? I don’t have a feeding bottle. After much brain wracking I settle on my gym sipper and pouring the milk into it I return to the bedroom.

The doll seems to be sleeping and I slowly maneuver the bottle into her mouth, she takes to it immediately and starts sucking. I watch as the bottle grows lighter and then empty.

Sleep deludes me and I know with this new development I am too excited and also frightened to sleep. I walk back to the kitchen and making myself a cup of coffee wait for it to be morning. I need to understand what this is all about.

The sunrays find me sleeping with the empty cup of coffee in front of me at the kitchen table. As the rays grow stronger and brighter they finally wake me up.

I try to remember what I am doing in the kitchen and then the thought of the doll comes back and I rush to check on her.

I find her yawning and throwing up her legs and arms. I decide to confront her immediately. I look down at her my expression grim and she smiles back on seeing me, then as she realizes that I am not returning her smile, her eyes cloud over and she stops playing.

I start my interrogation:

Who are you?

After some hesitation she sits up and starts to pull away at her head, I look on in horror. The head finally comes off and I see it’s a human child.

She looks up at me and says

I have been abandoned by my parents. I disguised myself as a pretty doll because people are willing to keep such dolls, pet them, give them nice clothes to wear and throw parties for them and call them their darling babies. But the real ones they throw away.