Broken Dolls (23 page)

“Thank you for your patience, my love,” Daniel says, crouching next to me. He tilts his head and caresses my face.

“Time is all I have.” I dab at the blood seeping from a cut on my hand. “You’re quite good at ruining people’s lives, you know. First mine, now your sister’s. Bravo.”

He goes to say something, then clears his throat. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.” My gaze drops to my useless legs.

“Don’t lie to me.” Lowered, his voice sounds almost manly.

I glance up at him and allow my icy gaze to bore into his soul. “What do you want me to say? Obviously, I resent you, Daniel!” I strangle the air with my hands and slump over. “You ruined me! You
broke
me.”

“I’ve done everything I can to try and fix it! I don’t know what else I can do!”

“Nothing,” I snap, “unless you transfer my consciousness into a character in a book. I mean, that’d be ideal. I could finally escape you.”

We turn our heads when something beeps loudly. Gabby’s activation must be complete.

Daniel’s face is pained, and he looks torn between staying with me to hash out our problems and helping Gabby. Eventually, he stands and heads for the wooden box, pulling out a Gabby doll. She looks nothing like her human form–I suppose Daniel must’ve been in a rush. Her hair is outrageously long and messily sewn together. Her eyes are the wrong color and she’s wearing overalls–something Gabby would never be caught dead in. She squirms in Daniel’s grip and studies the lab like babies do in new surroundings. He lowers her onto one of the counters and smiles.

“Hello, Gabby. I’m the professor. You probably can’t remember much, but I promise that will be temporary. I’m here to help you. I’m here to
fix
you. Do you think you can let me do that?”

Gabby reluctantly nods, scanning the area. “Why is there glass on the floor? Was there an earthquake?”

“Yes.” Daniel scoops Gabby into his arms. “But we’re okay now. I’m going to introduce you to the treasure chest, which I think you will find most comfortable. You’ll meet Libby, whom you’ll also like.”

He shields Gabby’s eyes from where I sit and takes her out of the lab. I sit impatiently, twiddling my thumbs and wringing my shirt. Good grief, I’m fat. I forgot how big I was. Nothing but gross flubber.

When Daniel returns, he completely ignores me and heads straight to the computer. His fingers are a blur on the keyboard, and his glasses keep slipping down his nose.

“Oh my God!” he exclaims. He raises his hands triumphantly and hops awkwardly on one foot. “Oh my God! Her condition is stabilizing! She’s already improving! I did it!
I DID IT!
”

Daniel skips towards me and takes me by the hands, his face flushed and youthful.

“Congratulations,” I say half-heartedly. “So she’s no longer terminal?”

“She will still take a while to heal,” Daniel puffs, resting one hand on his chest to calm down, “but I think she’ll be okay! I checked Libby as well. She’s rapidly improving! I have to call Jason! Gabby will be able to go home next week and then… then I’ll have to publish my findings! There will be no sickness in the world!”

“There will
always
be sickness.” I pull my hand from his. “Once we eradicate one illness, a stronger one will emerge. Daniel, this is
nonsense
. You can’t go to world governments and scientists telling them you know how to cure the epidemic. How will they believe that you transferred a mind into a doll? This
can’t
go mainstream. You need to keep it between friends and family like you’re doing now. There will be too much controversy.”

Daniel stares at me in disgust, like I have something offensive on my face. “I can’t believe you. I found a revolutionary, non-invasive cure–”

“—
non-invasive
?” I shriek. “You’ve
got
to be kidding me, Daniel! It’s the most invasive thing you can think of! You wipe their memories… you
control
memories in case we start to recall something… and you turn us into vulnerable dollies! It’s mental!”

“It
works
though,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Well, not for everyone.” I cross my arms and stare at the mess on the floor that used to be the tube I’ve been living in (on and off) for the past thirty years. “Put me back.”

Daniel hangs his head and speaks to the floor. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Ella. I want my wife back. I’m sick of caring for you as a doll, only for you to
continuously
grow suspicious of your former life. We’ve relived this pattern more times than I can count.”

“You don’t? I don’t want to be like this. I’m a fat, old woman. I like being young and free. Put me back.”

“No,” he says. I don’t know why he’s being as stubborn as me today.

“
Put me back
!” I scream. I try to crawl towards the tubes to do it myself, but Daniel easily stops me by pulling on my waist. “
Please
, Daniel. This time, I don’t want to know I had a human life–just let me think I’m
really
a doll. Oh, but don’t introduce me to anymore psychopaths like Lisa. She was crazy when she was human, but something about your experiment really pushed her over the edge.”

Daniel frowns. “Do you understand how selfish you’re being? You’d rather forget about your son, your husband, and your granddaughter and permanently live life as a doll?”

I nod. I’m already tired of my back aching and my vision blurring. I don’t like feeling cold and wet, and I don’t like how heavy my entire body feels. Nothing about my human form is appealing anymore. Least of all, Daniel.

“Just wait,” he says, speaking higher than he usually does. “How about I get you a banana? Or, or, I’ll cook a nice roast and we can have chocolate mousse afterwards! While you wait, you can soak in a hot bath with scented candles and read a good book! You’re only saying this because you’re cold and in pain, which I understand! But, but, you don’t have to revert! Please dear, just stay with me this time. We can make it work!”

Part of me pities Daniel, but most of me doesn’t care. I want my old life back–my life as a young, dancing doll. I’m nicer as a doll, anyway. “I don’t want to make it work.” I enunciate, catching his eyes. “I’m over it. Over
you
. I was happier not knowing.”

“But Ella…” his voice shakes, and his face droops. “Ella, I love you so much. I just want to have a normal life with you. I promise, we can make it good. We can all celebrate next week when Gabby is healthy! Jason and his wife will visit, and we’ll have a lovely meal and play board games! Please, Ella, I, I just can’t
lose
you again.”

I lift my chin. “You’ve already lost me. The moment that car swerved and ejected me through the window. The moment you chose to experiment on me. I’ve made my decision. It’s time you move on, Daniel.”

“Sweetie-pie…” Daniel’s voice croaks.

I inhale steadily, and coldly pat my husband’s head like an animal’s. I stare at him intently and make sure my words are firm and final.

“Put me back.”

ovely music plays softly outside the treasure chest. It’s sweet, contemporary, and very calming.

My room has altered slightly–the professor said it was time for a change, so he redecorated it to match the room of a TV show I like to watch. It’s a lot more modern, with more greys and whites instead of pinks and purples. The professor said it was ‘time for me to grow-up’–whatever that means.

He took all my tutus away and replaced them with an array of dresses, gowns, and pantsuits. I’m happy about the decision–for some reason, I’m a little over tutus.

There’s a large recorder that sits in the corner of the treasure chest. The professor mentioned that I might like to record ‘imagination time’. I rewound the huge tape to see if there were any other recordings on it, but it was completely blank.

I’ve only been in existence for a month. It’s a good month.

The attic is fetching, really. It’s rustic, but I like it. The floorboards are covered with various red and fluffy rugs and portraits hang from the freshly-painted white walls. Red curtains complement the rugs, and the professor brought in a plasma TV and a grey couch yesterday.

He said it was something about ‘moving on’ or… or
something
. I don’t really know what he means, but that doesn’t bother me. I remember him painting the walls and cleaning up piles of junk in the corner. He didn’t look at me much for the first few days I came into existence. Whenever I spoke to him, he put his head down and left the room. I worried I offended him, but he’s a lot brighter now. He’s much happier and quite chatty.

“Ella? Ella?” Gabby enters the attic. She spots me in the treasure chest and bounds over. I like Gabby. She’s the professor’s granddaughter and visits from time to time. She was very pale when I met her a month ago–she looked sickly, but now she’s vibrant and full of energy. She’s wearing yellow today–yellow suits her olive skin.

“Gabby!” I grin when she bends over to lift me up. “Are you taking me down the slide today?”

“I sure am! Grandpa doesn’t seem to mind you going outside anymore. He’s a lot more… like, lax with you now. Actually, he’s a lot cooler with me as well.”

I cock my head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? He’s always let me do whatever I want. I mean, I’m only a month old, but still!”

Gabby frowns and then shakes her head and grins. “Oh,” her voice is high, like she’s lying, “of course! Silly me. Let’s go!”

She holds onto me as she skips down the stairs and bursts through the sliding door into the backyard. It must be spring, because birds are chirping and flowers are blooming. I love the outdoors. The professor often lets me play in the garden, so long as it’s not raining. He even let Gabby take me for a bike ride yesterday.

Gabby lowers me into the sandpit and builds a castle for me to play on. I climb on top of it and raise my hands in the air.

“I’m the Queen of the castle!” I declare dramatically.

Gabby laughs and bows down before me. “Oh, your majesty! What will your first law be?”

“I declare,” I say in a deep, royal voice, “that Gabby shall visit me
every
day of the week!”

“Yes, your majesty!” she says with another deep curtsy.

We laugh together as the professor joins us from the kitchen, bringing out a fizzing lemonade for Gabby. He’s holding a second one that he sips on for himself. He’s not in his lab coat today–he’s dressed in fitted jeans and a lovely collared shirt.

“Oh-la-la!” Gabby pouts like a model. “What are you all dressed up for, Grandpa?”

He blushes and tugs on the collar of his neck. “My dear, if you
must
know… I have a lunch date with an old lady friend.”

Gabby and I gasp in unison.

“But what about Grandma?” Gabby coughs, almost dropping her lemonade.

“Grandma has gone to a better place,” the professor says quietly, smiling sweetly towards me. “It’s time I moved on.”

Gabby glances at me, almost sympathetically, or like she knows something. She shakes her head and then pats the professor on the back and speaks in a poor English accent. “Good for you, ol’ chap! Where are you takin’ the missus to?”

The professor laughs his breathy laugh. “Sushi. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed tuna wrapped in seaweed!”