October 10, 2015
Arnold's Basement
12:44 P.M.
"Once again, spooky season is upon us," Wanda murmured, still slumped over the couch arm lazily, her head resting heavily on the palm of her hand. "And once again, it's shaping up to be a lame one."
Keesha rolled her eyes. "You think anytime when we're not at each other's throats is lame. Can't we just enjoy being calm for once?"
Wanda shot a doubtful look at the girl. "Fine. You want to spend another weekend playing video games down here? Be my guest."
"With pleasure." Keesha and Wanda watched as the boys completed another lap of Mario Kart with stern, focused expressions. Keesha sighed. "Yeah, okay, this sucks."
"Since when does Mario Kart suck?" Ralphie frowned, his eyes glued to the screen as the racers neared the end of the final lap. He gripped his controller tightly as he barely swerved around a banana peel sitting in the center of the colorful course.
Keesha thought. "Since you learned how to navigate Rainbow Road, I guess."
"It's a hard course!"
"That we've all mastered by now!" Keesha shook her head and pushed herself forward in her seat. "I hate to say it, but I'm with Wanda – we need a break of the same old routine."
Arnold winced at the comment. "What's wrong with the same old routine? Its tried and tested-"
"It's boring, Perlstein!" Wanda cut in with an exaggerated moan. "It's almost Halloween – let's do something fun and spooky and a little bit evil!"
Tim glanced at his phone. "As long as we're home by eight. I'm meant to babysit tonight."
Wanda glared at Tim. "Okay… Something fun and spooky and evil that wraps up by eight, then. Just like all the great Halloween festivities do."
"What'd you have in mind?" DA carefully inquired. Wanda's definition of 'a little bit evil' differed from most, and she wasn't looking to spend the night in prison or on the run from an angry mob.
"I wanna ghost hunt!"
"An early afternoon ghost hunt," Keesha mused sarcastically. "Sounds like a blast."
DA shrugged. "At least it sounds legal."
"And impossible," Arnold added skeptically. "Ghosts don't exist, and if they did, I don't think they'd choose to hang around somewhere like Walkerville."
Wanda scoffed. "They don't choose where to hang out, Arnold. They're trapped here because they never finished their work on Earth."
"I didn't realize you were an expert."
Wanda brushed off the obvious sarcasm in his voice, choosing instead to focus on her new personal mission. "Who was the last person to die around here? Preferably someone creepy and mysterious, but honestly, I'll take any corpse you got."
Adamently, Arnold crossed his arms. "I'm not going to-"
"Didn't your reclusive neighbor just die last week?" Phoebe interrupted. Her genuine expression suggested she truly meant to help with her gentle reminder, but Arnold wished she hadn't brought up the topic.
He furrowed his brow. "Well… Yeah. But that doesn't mean we can just barge into his-"
"Your parents have the key to his house," Phoebe reminded pleasantly. "They offered to help sort his belongings since he had no living relatives."
"Uh… Right…" Arnold rubbed the back of his head as Wanda watched on with eager eyes. "But I don't… Um…"
"I think Arnold's trying to say that he's too chicken," Carlos clarified with a laugh. "But I say let's do it!"
Wanda pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yeah!"
Arnold shook his head in dismay. "Man, it's not even safe to stay home anymore…"
October 10, 2015
Street
12:52 P.M.
Arnold crossed his arms as he peered up and down the neighborhood unsurely. "So, are you happy Wanda?"
Wanda clasped her hands together. "It's the haunted mansion of my dreams!"
"It doesn't look haunted…" Hesitently, Ralphie kicked at a stray rock on the sidewalk. "Do you really think there's a ghost inside?"
"Absolutely!"
"Not a chance…" Arnold groaned. "And if there were, why would we want to go in and bother it?"
Wanda grinned, content with the developing circumstances. Sure, a potential ghost hunt was fun enough, but now apparently Arnold and Ralphie were freaking out? That was just the cherry on top. "Because we're bored teenagers. I've seen enough horror movies to know that this is just the kind of thing bored teenagers do on Halloween."
Again, Tim peered down at his phone. "Or at 1 o'clock on October 10th."
"Shush."
As Wanda led the group up the driveway to the front porch of the looming manor, Keesha stepped to Wanda's side. "Remind me, why are you so eager to live life like a horror movie? Historically speaking, you and I don't do so well in those."
Wanda shrugged. "Why not?" At the front door, she spun to face Arnold. "Key."
Arnold silently handed her the small brass key from his pocket, and without so much as a thank you, Wanda snatched the key and jammed it into the front door. With a single twist, the front door creaked open, revealing a dark, shadowy grand entryway within.
Carlos leaned over to DA. "I'm not sure this is a bright idea." He grinned.
"Shut up, Carlos," DA shot back, unamused.
Stepping over the threshold, Wanda dramatically held out her arms, showing off the vast ceilings and eerie, shrouded corners of the atrium. "Tell me this place isn't haunted."
Though Arnold and Ralphie both seemed hesitant to follow the girl, Keesha stepped through the doorway smoothly, an unimpressed frown on her face. "I don't know, Wan. Something about the sunlight shining in makes everything a lot less creepy."
Wanda groaned. "Always the skeptic. Fine. I'll prove that this place is haunted, just you see!" Wanda walked to a door on the nearby wall and swung it open, revealing a dank coat closet inside. She frowned. "Huh. No ghost. Maybe I was wrong."
"You think?" Arnold hissed, still hunched up beside Phoebe, who appeared remarkably unphased by the whole situation. "I told you, ghosts don't exist."
"Tell me about it," Wanda snorted. She reached into the closet and pulled out the sole object inside – a life-sized wooden mannequin, complete with functioning joints and a painted face. "This guy had issues alright, but I don't think they were ethereal in nature."
DA scrunched up her face at the reveal. "That's… Disturbing. But it doesn't mean he had issues."
Wanda gaped at the blonde. "Now you're defending the horny old bastard?"
"He just died, Wanda! Show a little respect!"
Wanda clicked her tongue at the argument. "Doesn't mean he wasn't a horny old bastard. You know what this is, right? Let me paint you a little word picture…"
Old Manor House
Late
An aging old man stepped through the front door, his hat and jacket both dripping from the harsh rainstorm he had just escaped. As the door shut behind him, the man stretched his sore, aching limbs, releasing a loud crack from each joint as he did. The years were catching up with him, that much was for sure, and these vicious rains wreaked havoc on his already painful joints.
The rain was not the worst disappointment of the day, though, not by far. Despite his best efforts and the neat, well-tended jacket he sported to the nearby café, he had once again failed to impress the lovely lady sitting across from him. At one time in his life, the man had loved his life of frivolity. He had never longed for a family, nor a wife, nor even a friend in the world. But those days were as fleeting as this storm.
Long retired, the man came to realize just how hollow these massive hallways had become. The grand atrium echoed only the ticking of the grandfather clock. No children's laughter rang throughout these empty rooms; no sweet, whispered nothings came to comfort his worried mind. What he wouldn't do to go back, to rewrite this depressing life he had built for himself.
It seemed fate had its own plans for him, though, and perhaps he was destined to die alone in this lonely home. Perhaps it was what he deserved. Had he not been kind enough in his work? Had he thought too little of the faces he passed by? Was this punishment from the universe itself for some untold grievance lost in his memory to the depths of time?
Ah, well. The man hung his hat and coat inside the nearby coat closet and retrieved his old, familiar companion. He might be alone for all eternity, but at least he could fuck a creepy-ass doll.
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
12:55 P.M.
Arnold grimaced at the image Wanda painted. "Why is that where your mind goes, Wanda? You seriously think that's what this thing is for?"
"This is the world we live in, Arn!" Wanda cried, thrusting the doll into the unexpecting boy's arms. "People have sex with dolls sometimes! Deal with it!"
"So, why would I want it?" Arnold scrunched up his face towards the strange, uncomfortable one painted onto the mannequin's wooden head. "This face… It doesn't look seductive in design. More… friendly?" Arnold shook his head. "I don't think this was a toy. What if it was supposed to be a friend?"
Old Manor House
A Cold, Winter's Day
Carefully, an old man wrapped a warm, woolen blanket around the worn, wooden mannequin, unperturbed by its fading painted feature or its wide, unnatural grin. Once sure his companion was snug and cozy, he took his own spot before the crackling fireplace, draping a shawl of his own around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry for the cold," he commented, holding his hands towards the blazing fire for warmth. "Heating this house is so expensive. But I much prefer this fire, don't you?"
The mannequin stared blankly at the man's face.
He nodded. "Yes, precisely. It is charming. It brings me back to my youth. Why I remember the days when my brothers and I would chase each other around the house, laughing and screaming. We'd exhaust ourselves and collapse before the wide, open fireplace, still smiling and we recovered our breath. Those were the days, I tell you."
The mannequin continued to stare.
"The world moves so quickly these days. It nice to reminisce with someone who understands. I sometimes think that this town has forgotten the simple beauty of a crackling fire on a cold, snowy day." He smiled at the doll. "But you and I remember, don't we?"
As always, his words were met with only silence. Nevertheless, the man laughed once more, continuing to gaze into the hot flames with content.
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
12:57 P.M.
Wanda rolled her eyes as Arnold wrapped up his own iteration of the story. "Right, because he totally didn't get it on with that thing afterwards."
"Not necessarily!" Arnold argued adamantly. "Imagine going for years without a single friend to confide in; I bet all these long, empty halls would get you down after a while. That loneliness would be way more dangerous than any amount of celibacy."
"No."
"No? That's your argument? Just… No?"
"Guys, guys, guys –" Carlos stepped in between his quarreling friends. "I think you're both missing the obvious here. A full-sized human doll? Think of the prank potential!"
Arnold and Wanda stared back at Carlos with deadpan expressions. DA cocked her head at the boy. "Pranks? You mean to suggest that a lonely, private, reclusive old man was secretly just a prankster at heart?"
"Hear me out…"
Old Manor House
A Cool April Afternoon
"And if you look to your left," the man lectured on, opening another creaky wooden door for the young couple at his tail, "You'll see the main study."
The young woman nodded as she peered into the bright, airy office. Heavy oak furniture gave the space the vintage feel that the pair had envisioned, yet every piece was neat and well-cared for; all in all, she and her partner were beyond impressed with the tour of the beautiful building.
Ahead of them, the old man smirked mischievously, a gesture that went unseen by the unassuming pair. Of course, he would never sell his beloved home, not even to such a kind young couple, but he never had been able to pass up an opportunity to have some fun. Regaining his composure, he turned to face the two. "And I believe the only room left to see is the master bedroom. Right this way."
Both followed the surprisingly spry old man further along the lengthy hallway, eager to see the remainder of the home. 'Like fish in a barrel,' the man thought to himself as he reached the sturdy bedroom door.
"And… Voila!"
The old man swung the door open to reveal a ghastly scene – the master bedroom, a large, elegantly-decorated suite, was covered in puddles of a thick, red liquid. The majority of the stains were centered around the plush king bed, with the light blue of the blankets barely peeking through the scarlet shades. Beneath these sheets, a disturbingly human shape lay still, unmoving despite the late hour of the day.
Naturally, the touring couple screamed in horror, and quickly both had bolted for the exit, leaving the old man laughing at the startled reactions. "Gets them every time," he mused playfully, shaking his head in pleasant amusement. "Ah, dear…"
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
12:59 P.M.
"Why would anyone choose to do that with their spare time?" DA chastised.
But Carlos remained undeterred. "I would do that if my parents would let me!" He thought for a moment. "Do you think they would let me? Dad might be into it. Maybe mom, too, if I promise to do the dishes for her."
Ignoring the question, Phoebe eyed the dolls with a distant gaze. "I doubt a kind old man would do anything so morbid," she said softly. She ran her fingers along the sturdy mannequin. "What if it were more like a toy? Or maybe a puppet?"
"I think those kids would have nightmares forever."
"Seriously," Phoebe protested. "Why couldn't it have been for a nice purpose?"
Old Manor House
Christmastime
It wasn't often that the whole family had the opportunity to gather. The holidays were the only regular exception. Since his grown children had confirmed that they would, in fact, be able to visit with their families on the eve of Christmas, the old man had gotten to work ensuring the holiday would be a memorable one.
As soon as three excited grandchildren burst into the grand entryway, all were enraptured by the large, lifelike model that awaited them on the staircase. With their full attention, the man lifted his puppet by the strong strings he had attached and began to manipulate each; below him, the doll burst to life and began to dance for its adoring onlookers.
Laughter rang up the staircase, and the old man smiled at the sound. Making the puppet had taken a great deal of time, but this laughter was worth any amount of work. Peering over the banister, he spotted his son and daughter contentedly grinning in his direction. After a brief nod of acknowledgement, he returned his focus to his performance. Oh, how he adored the holiday season.
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
1:02 P.M.
Phoebe beamed at her sickening-wholesome conclusion. "See? It could have been something sweet."
Keesha shook her head. "Sorry, Pheebs, but nobody would be happy to lay eyes on that thing."
"It does look handmade, though," Tim conceded, leaning forward to better take in the detail of the mannequin. "The carving is well-done, but not flawless. It certainly looks to have been made by a skilled hand."
Wanda tapped Tim on the shoulder to get his attention. "Care to translate for those of us who aren't dorks?"
"He was a skilled artist, Wanda."
"Skilled in something…"
Tim gently pushed the girl away. "If you think about it, the concept of a mannequin is a pretty powerful one."
Wanda glared. "To be clear, nobody wants you to keep explaining this."
"I wonder if…"
Old Manor House
Midnight
The old man stepped back from his creation, admiring the detail for one final time. He had been sculpting his latest project for several weeks now, and the doll was nearing completion. If only he could get the shoulders evened out as he envisioned, he could at last move on to painting the face.
It was vital that the mannequin mirrored the ideal human form just right. He intended to enter his work in the upcoming art fair, and he could hardly submit a critique of media's construction of human beauty with a sculpture that looked anything less than perfect. And with each chiseled stroke, each minute edit, the mannequin neared perfection.
It was funny, though; in creating his work, he, the artist had taken on the role of the media he criticized so harshly. Who was he to shape this wood as he saw fit? Nature had its own plans for this wood; at one time, a tree a grown proud and strong in the stead of this half-finished doll. In destroying that tree to create his art, had he become the problem rather than the solution? And was he wrong to feel proud of the results of his labor?
There was beauty in what was natural and real. But where did he himself draw that line?
The man smirked to himself. His competing artists had no chance at the art show.
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
1:06 P.M.
Wanda crossed her arms and leaned against the wall lazily. "Yeah, nobody wanted to listen to that."
"It's an important message that he was conveying-"
"Not a chance," Keesha interrupted firmly. "There is no way that thing is anything so profound. You want to know how it ended up in that closet?"
Old Manor House
Late Spring
"Are you sure you want it?" the woman asked, clearly skeptical of the request at hand.
But the old man nodded surely, no hesitation in his response. "Mom had this doll for as long as I can recall. It would be a shame to let it go to the Goodwill."
"I thought maybe the dump was more appropriate." The woman sighed as she passed the aged mannequin to her bull-headed brother. "It's just going to take up space, you know. I miss mom too, but hanging on to all of her junk isn't going to bring her back."
"You don't think I know that?" The man glanced at the familiar wooden face. Over the years, the paint had faded and chipped somewhat, but he still recognized it as the one from throughout his childhood. "But no one else is going to appreciate this doll, so I might as well. Can you really throw it out, after all this time?"
"Fine, fine." His sister knew better than to continue the argument. Anyway, despite her protests, she would struggle to dispose of the nostalgic peace. In a way, it was nice to know it was staying in the family. "Where are you going to keep it?"
The man chuckled at the question. "Are you kidding? I'll just throw it in the attic or something. I can't just throw it out, but damn, I don't want to look at this thing!"
"Fair enough," she laughed in return. "Maybe try the coat closet? I don't think you've ever even opened that door."
"Perfect!"
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
1:08 P.M.
"That might be the most probable explanation we've heard all afternoon," DA remarked, garnering a proud smile from Keesha. She pursed her lips. "It's a weird thing to hoard in a closet though, don't you think?"
"Most family heirlooms generally are."
"Still…" DA put her hands on her hips. "Look, if we're all giving our thoughts on this thing, I might toss my hat in as well."
Old Manor House
Early Morning
"Do you really think you can fetch a decent price on… That?"
The man disregarded the skepticism his friend continued to offer. "Why not? People will buy just about anything. Besides, if there's a market for these dolls, that could be my retirement set."
The friend nodded slowly. "Okay… But there won't be, you know that? It's well-made, sure but…"
"But?"
"But no one likes dolls," the friend admitted, his face turning red as he spoke. "And a life-sized one? That's honestly even worse."
Frustrated, the man picked up the large, wooden mannequin and stormed to the front door. "You can doubt me, that's fine. But just you wait – this doll is my future. You'll see!"
As his friend and companion sauntered out of the house, the man sighed. "He doesn't stand a chance out there…"
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
1:11 P.M.
Keesha nodded along intently with the explanation. "Yeah, I don't think anyone would want to buy that monstrosity."
"Buy… Hat…" Ralphie rubbed his chin as the words spun around in his head. His eyes lit up. "What if the man ran an old-timey hat shop?"
Keesha and DA exchanged bemused glances, and Keesha turned to address her boyfriend. "Could you elaborate?"
Old Manor House
Old-Timey Times
"Come one, come all!" The man called, pretending to poke his head out of a rickety shop door. "Don't let your heads go bare again!"
An onlooking woman applauded the call. "Oh darling," she cried, running up to the man and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "You look magnificent!"
"It's not me, sweetheart," the man replied, fiddling with his elaborate old-timey mustache. "Why, it's the doll! Folks can't resist a hat from off of old Woody's head!"
"Of course. My apologies, Woody," the woman said as she curtsied for the behatted wooden mannequin. Both she and the man burst out in laughter. "You're sure to make your fortune out there, I just know it."
The man gently took a hold of her hands. "But it's all for you, sweetheart. The moment I have the funds, I'll come back and ask your daddy for your hand. Just you wait."
The pair embraced one final time, and the man offered a peck on the cheek. "We'll be together," she sobbed as the two pulled apart. "I promise."
"As do I, darling. As do I…"
October 10, 2015
Old Manor House
1:14 P.M.
"And then he died of polio or something," Ralphie finished.
Keesha rubbed her temples before attempting to muster a response. "Ralphie, I… How old do you think this guy was?"
"Like, 60?" Ralphie shrugged. "I don't know."
As Keesha tried to brush off the naïve response, Tim considered the honest words. "When you think about it, none of us know." He picked up the mannequin and carefully maneuvered its limbs. "We can sit here and make guesses all day, but the truth is none of us knew the first thing about this man. Now that he's dead… Do you think anyone knows who he was?
"So much of how we perceive our world is based on our own perceptions and experiences. But if we ever really want to know a person, we have to reach out and ask. We're all so curious now… Why didn't we care when he was alive? Why didn't anyone get to know this unique human being? We'll never know what this doll stood for in his life, and we have no one to blame but our own ego-centric minds."
The friends solemnly stared at the wooden doll a final time, letting Tim's heavy words sink in as they did. After minutes that seemed to last for hours, Wanda stepped forward and put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Yeah… But it was probably a sex thing."
Tim sighed. "Yeah, it was definitely a sex thing."
At last in agreement, the group returned the mannequin to the closet where Wanda had discovered it and ventured out of the eerie, empty house. That was quite enough adventuring for the day.