Michael said people had been scared of him, but for the life of Dollface, she just couldn't figure out why.
Really, she couldn't at all.
He was just some guy in coveralls who wore big boots and popped his collars a lot. He had dark, wavy hair that fell in his face and eyes as sharp and hard as hers. He liked to tinker on his station wagon in the garage and drink coffee without sugar, just like she did and a tart glass of lemonade after working outside all day.
As far as Dollface could see, he was the most normal and unthreatening person there, almost to the point of being boring.
She sat on the floor of the farm house's living room, drawing Michael as he sat in his chair reading.
She remembered a few days after that strange Halloween when they'd met a few years ago, an older man had approached her:
"Young man? Young man?"
"Ya talkin' t'me?" Dollface had turned in her painters' whites, on her way to meet Grampa at cousin Ritchie's house to repaint a room yellow and saw an older gentleman she didn't recognize.
She assumed that he worked for the county somewhere, seeing as there were police officers, a few she hadn't seen before, tailing him and he'd flashed an ID of some kind at her.
That was unusual for the town.
Nothing ever happened here.
He looked suddenly spooked when she'd turned.
"Oh, Heavens, I'm sorry, young lady." He apologized.
She'd had her newly styled hair pulled into a choppy little bun that stuck out of the slot on the back of her paper cap to keep it out of the way. Her ear was still stinging and swelling from Halloween.
He seemed to recognize her in a strange way.
She didn't recognize him, but Michael sure did.
"I'm Dr. Loomis." He said, putting out his hand to shake, showing his ID again. As he came closer, he suddenly looked a little more on edge, like he'd seen a ghost but didn't want to admit it. He pocketed his ID, "One of my patients was found on the side of the highway the other night. He was very dangerous and caused harm. We're just trtying to know the extent of it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Michael was listening in on the conversation, and told her Loomis was full of bullshit.
He'd know, Loomis was his doctor.
"We would just like to know if you have any information on what happened that night."
Dollface shrugged, "Don't know a thing."
"If you do, here's the card for Smith's Grove." Loomis handed her that card, almost wincing when she nearly hit his hand.
He seemed twitchy.
Almost terrified of her.
Dollface shrugged it off and continued on her way.
Michael was quiet until she got to the address and ignored any questions.
Which wasn't a problem for Dollface.
She didn't care enough to know.
Back to now, Dollface finished her charcoal sketch, and thought of how funny it was how Loomis had seemed fine when asking others around town, mainly adults, until she would quietly appear within his sight. He'd get a little more fidgety when she'd passed him at the playground when asking about his patient to a few mothers, just stared when she passed great uncle Barney's porch, and completely fell silent and left when asking Raina and Mike.
Dollface had been glad to never see Loomis again.
'Michael, why don't you leave?'
'Don't have anythin' goin' for me outside. The world is scary and I like it here.'
Dollface shifted, looking at her picture. She decided to blend some of it out to make it look more 'finished'.
She liked the outside world. Places away from home seemed to have more promise than Elmore did. She distinctly knew she didn't belong there, and she wanted to go far away from this place.
She studied the picture, adding a few dark strokes creating vague details.
Dollface could tell that Michael was younger than he looked, but that wasn't anything to comment on. Every dude over the age of seventeen turned into a thirty-year-old man within days of their birthday. That's just how it was around here.
Here, Michael had his car to tinker with, things to fix, stuff to do and he was okay with that. Dollface stood, tucking her book and pouch of pencils under her arm and padded through the kitchen and looked out at the world through the back porch, continuing her silent conversation. Red fall leaves fell around and hills rolled on.
Maybe she'd set her easel up and paint that later on.
Dollface was startled awake by the ringing of the front desk phone.
Trying to figure out where she was, she looked around the tailor shop, black eyes wide open. She then remembered that after two solid days of sewing, and shifts at Fazbear's she'd kicked Maggie out of the tailor shop and finished the dresses herself.
All in one night.
Dollface hurried from the desk where she'd been dutifully beading each cuff, collar, and sleeve and ran to the phone.
"Muriel's Tailoring, Dollface speaking!" Breathless, Dollface answered the seventies' model phone.
"Dollface, this is your grandfather." Grampa had a habit of using phones like walkie-talkies or long distance radios due to his National Guard work. "Your grandmother is losing it."
"What happened?" Dollface asked.
"M'brother called an'said ya haven't shown up for ya shift yet. Dollface, you're late!"
"Oh shit!" Dollface shouted, seeing that her watch was already past eleven.
She was never late, and here she was, groggy and wearing yesterday's overalls in Gramma's tailor shop.
And not to mention how her neck was achin' like a bitch from how she slept, hunched over a box of beads and a yellow satin dress.
Fuck! She hadn't even finished that dress!
"Be over soon!" Dollface said, not even letting Grampa finish what he was saying.
Dollface hurried out of the store and hopped onto her bike, pedaling like a maniac to get home and dressed.
What a manic Monday!