Chapter Four
Sleep came grudgingly. Dreams were elusive and vexing. Mere shadows and images. Shapes and blurs. A swirl of chaos. It was from this maelstrom that Nancy awoke, yanked from her slumber by something.
A noise. She listened. Tuned an ear to the short hallway. The hallway with the bathroom and closet. The closet with that dreadful doll.
There it was again. The whisper of a sound as faint as a heartbeat.
What exactly was it? Nancy listened harder and heard it again. A muffled thump. And then … what in heavens' name was that? A moan?
She wants out of the box, Nancy thought. She doesn't like being in there. In the pitch dark. All alone.
Nancy pushed up onto her elbows. "Bess?" she whispered.
Bess rolled onto her back. "I heard it, too. What should we do?"
"I think she wants out of the box." Nancy couldn't believe she said that. Spoke as if the doll were real. A living being with thoughts and feelings.
Bess sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp. "Who's going to get her out of the box?"
Nancy tossed off the covers. "I will." Her feet touched the floor and her toes found her slippers. She brushed tangled hair out of her face. "It's a doll for goodness sakes. I can certainly handle a doll. A rag doll no less."
"We," said Bess. "We can handle the doll. It's two against one."
"You're right," Nancy spoke with vigor and sat up straighter on the edge of the bed. "And we're much bigger and stronger than her. What can she possibly do to us? She's made of cloth and ribbons and thread."
Bess giggled. "Listen to us. How silly we sound."
Nancy laughed. And oh, how good it felt to laugh, to dispel the dark mood that had befallen them.
"Let's go," Nancy said and pushed off the bed. She thrust out an arm like a lance. "To the closet."
Bess was beside her in an instant. "Should we take a weapon?" Bess couldn't contain a giggle.
Nancy giggled, too, at the absurdity of the situation. Two grown women afraid of a doll. A rag doll for heavens' sake!
"What kind of weapon does one use against a rag doll?" Nancy asked and chuckled.
"I don't know." Bess frowned, momentarily perplexed. "Certainly not a wooden stake. That's for vampires, isn't it?"
"I think so," Nancy said then waved a hand dismissively. "We don't need a weapon. Like I said, we're bigger and stronger. I'm ready to brave the closet. Are you?"
"Right behind you," Bess said and then whispered, "Did you notice the 'right behind you part?'"
Nancy leaned into her friend and whispered, "I did notice that part."
Both women giggled uncontrollable. They were being silly and giddy and oh, it was such fun. Their spirits soared. Their fears were gone. Tossed aside. Total silliness to be afraid of a doll. Really, who would believe such nonsense?
Down the hall they went. A few short steps brought them to the closet door. Nancy placed a hand on the handle. The door opened easily. She found the light switch and flipped it on. Both women squinted in the harsh light.
Bess felt her fear return, a little, a small tremor. She said a silent thank you for the light. Somehow, the light made the whole situation bearable. Less sinister. The light chased away the darkness and the evil.
Nancy put the step ladder under the shelf and climbed the three steps. She pulled the box off of the shelf and laid it on the floor. She and Bess bent over the box.
Nancy lifted the lid. "Well, there she is, as pretty as you please."
Nancy reached for the doll, but Bess grabbed her arm and stopped her.
"Doe she look anger to you?" Bess asked.
Nancy paused and studied the doll's face. "Maybe. Just a little." Nancy felt her bravado fading.
"Now what?" Bess asked. In their zeal to get to the doll, the women had not made a plan as to what to do after they found it.
"Hmmm." Nancy thought a moment. "We put her back on the computer desk. She seemed to like it there. That's where we found her when we came home."
"Okay." Anything sounded good to Bess at that moment.
Nancy reached a hand in the box and grabbed the doll.
"Ouch!" She dropped the doll.
"Nancy! What is it? What happened?"
Nancy held up her hand. Her index finger was bleeding. "Something stabbed me."
Both women rushed to the bathroom across the hall. Bess searched cabinet drawers while Nancy ran cold water over her finger.
"It felt like a pin," Nancy said and shut off the water.
"Let me see." Bess held a box of Band-Aids.
Bess examined Nancy's finger. She saw a tiny pin prick. "I don't understand how this happened," Bess said. "I handled that doll tonight. I put it in the box. Why wasn't I stabbed?"
"I don't know." Nancy took the Band-Aid Bess offered and wrapped it around her index finger. The finger throbbed painfully. The pin had gone deep into the tip.
The women returned to the closet. This time with a pair of kitchen tongs. They weren't taking any chances. Bess used the tongs to pick up the doll and place it on the floor. Both Nancy and Bess searched the doll. Rolled it from side to side. Where was that menacing pin?
They couldn't find it.
Nancy sat back on her heels and glanced at the box. The blanket was crumpled inside. She looked closer and there, among the folds, she saw it.
"There." Nancy pointed at a long, thin pin resting on the blanket.
"It wasn't on the doll?" Bess' eyebrows drew together in confusion. "This doesn't make sense. How did you get stabbed? And I must point out that we both handled the blanket tonight. We both adjusted it and neither of us saw that pin or were stabbed."
Nancy couldn't argue with that. She didn't have the energy. She was tired. Incredibly tired. Their adventure, which had started with such high hopes and laughter and joviality, had ended in disaster. Nancy was shaken and hurt. Bess looked beyond despair. The doll – a simple rag doll – had gotten the better of them. It was winning this fight. If this was a fight.
"I think we should put her back in the living room." A note of defeat sounded in Bess' voice. "Nancy, would you please bring the blanket."
Nancy gingerly took the blanket out of the box and carried it to the living room. Bess carried the doll in the tongs. The women made a 'bed' on the sofa for the doll.
Bess stepped back and admired their work. "She can sleep there tonight."
Nancy nodded. They had arranged the blanket and folded it over the doll. She looked like a child in a makeshift bed.
"We've been more than generous and kind considering the circumstances," Nancy said stiffly.
"I agree," Bess said just as stiffly.
Minutes later, the women climbed into bed for the second time that night. Both were on edge. Neither said a word. Bess switched off the bedside lamp and the room was plunged into darkness. Each women wondered if they would get any sleep.
A/N: Thank you again for the reviews. The words "thank you" seem so inadequate. I appreciate that you took the time to leave a few words on how you felt.
By the way, the story "The Dressmaker's Doll" was in a book entitled "Double Sin and Other Stories." I got the book from my local library.