It started with one doll, then two, then three. They were only children back then, and without anyone else, play time usually consisted of the two of them organizing their collection. However, no matter how many new ones Arthur and Matthew received, the bundle of growing dolls just felt so…empty.
They carried this shared hobby of theirs throughout elementary, middle school, and now at sixteen, the flame of collecting hadn't died out; reason being that they had no real friends to hang out with, or talk to.
One may assume that such a routine through many years would change. After all, now the two were pushing sixteen, and, little did they know, a small suggestion would change their lives.
Matthew brushed the messy turf of white fur away from his plush polar bear's eyes. It was Saturday, so Arthur and Matthew were luckily stuck at home; away from the terror that was, high school.
Arthur walked into their room carrying a tray of what appeared to be, cookies and milk, one would conclude, minus of course the obvious black matter forming off the top of the pastries, and the strange bubbling sizzling from the cup of milk. Setting the tray down on the floor where Matthew sat, he too crouched down and poked at the plush bear, "…you carry this guy around with you everywhere! Why not find a new one for a while?"
For a long time, Arthur knew, Matthew had carried the poor bear ever since their childhood. This resulted in many insults at school, which then led to Matthew crying in the boys' bathroom.
Matthew hugged the bear close, "…I don't want to go by myself…" he reached slowly for a cookie, but quickly changed his mind and continued, "…I wouldn't know how to choose."
Pondering for a moment, Arthur lit up, and proudly proclaimed, "I'll go with you then! We do need new additions to our collection anyway, right? I'll help you find your first authentic doll."
"First" for Matthew was correct; Arthur had been the one to take him collection hunting, trying to explain the differences between porcelain and ceramic, puppet and strings. Although Matthew did contribute to their growing collection with comments as to how they looked "cute" and "fragile", his shy persona couldn't bring himself to ever actually buying his own. His favourite plush, had always been that bear.
Arthur, on the other hand, had troubles with favouritism, always just adding more and more to their shelf, and educating himself further on random doll facts and tidbits.
"Before we go!" Arthur stood up quickly, an unusual spark in his eyes, he walked towards his study desk, and pulled out a book from beneath many other papers on top, "This, Matthew, is what we collectors use to decide what kind of doll is best for, well, us!" He sat back down and opened the book somewhere in the middle, in which big font read: "Which Doll Is Best For You?"
"You see…" Arthur began, "Dolls are chosen and bought due to collection, condition, and authenticity." He pointed at the first photo in the book, "If a doll is from a popular collection, but is mass produced, the price will be reasonable." Matthew nodded in agreement, "if a doll is from an older collection, and is hard to find, then the price will be reasonably higher, sometimes more." Arthur flipped the page and showed Matthew the second photo, "When we're scouting for dolls, it is important that we make sure the condition is as close to perfect as possible, in order words, collectors would call the pristine state of a doll, a doll in 'mint condition'. This rule applies to both new and old collections."
Matthew looked intrigued, trying his best to absorb the information before they went out to shop. He opened his mouth to speak, "…What is the last one for?"
Arthur straightened up, pointing to a serious photograph, which appeared to have the same doll shown twice, "Authenticity. It means that we need to make sure, as collectors, that the dolls we buy aren't replicas. See? The colour of the real doll is brighter than its copy. Some of the shapes are out of proportion as well."
"Ooh…" Matthew stared for a while, he himself couldn't really tell the difference between the two dolls, as they both looked exactly alike, and nonetheless, he was excited.
"Arthur! Arthur! Can we go now? Shopping? For our dolls!" He pulled on Arthur's shirt sleeve, waiting for an answer.
Arthur checked the time and sighed, "I guess it can't be helped." He laughed, "The shop should still be open, so we will go after you get changed."
Matthew and Arthur walked down the street, the places Arthur usually went to had no new stock; leaving behind a slightly disappointed Matthew.
As they walked on, they turned a corner; Arthur noticed a quaint shop to their left. It seemed old and aged, the wooden structure already showing signs of rot and rust. Above them, an awning coloured in stripes of red and blue was comforting, located beneath the shop's sign that read "Malice Doll Emporium".
Something drew them in. They knew not what, or why; perhaps of their cause? They hadn't found anything of interest to them in the other doll shops, and this one appeared promising.
Upon entering the store, the duo decided to split up, agreeing that they would find one they liked better that way.
The internal structure of the store was more or less older if possible, than the outside, bearing many a collection of dolls and puppets from all over the world.
There were also two or three other customers in the small shop, browsing and strolling around.
Arthur walked through the set of porcelain dolls that littered the various shelves in that area, such delicate faces, he was almost afraid to take even a step closer for fear of accidently breaking one.
Matthew timidly made his way past a mountain of plush toys and met up with Arthur after running to the end of the bobble-head aisle (oh yes, those things were beyond creepy). Together, they made it to the near end of the shop, where a hanging ceiling sign overhead introduced the start of the "International Dolls" section.
The two looked at each other and shrugged, "Are we…?"
"…We might find something we like."
As they began to wander the section full of dolls, Arthur took note of the amusing themes in each case. Dolls from every part of the world must have a sub-section here! Dolls from Hungary, Japan, Germany, the list would go on and on. Matthew quickly took a liking to the cuter sub-section of dolls near the very end of the store; one in particular, caught his eye.
In a small cabinet, a plush doll of a western cowboy bore the American flag to its right, dressed in complete attire. Arthur came up behind Matthew and pat his head lightly, "Is that the one you want? We'll need to check it."
Wanting Matthew to decide by himself if the doll was worth the purchase, he stretched his back and yawned, he hadn't found anything.
Or so he thought.
Glancing up out of curiosity, Arthur blinked twice at the French tricolour that suddenly appeared before his eyes, and proudly hung in the back of the top shelf. To the left of the flag, a doll of its own, bearing a French-style military uniform, and equipped with a plastic bayonet, attached to a toy rifle fit to scale.
His almost obsessive infatuation with historical French literature and his hobby came into clash at that very moment, knowing just as well of the criticism his parents had tried to instil in him as a child; things like, "France is our arch enemy!" or "Put that down, this minute, Arthur! That's French food!" didn't affect him much; in fact, it made his interest in the culture grow more.
Arthur reached out to inspect the doll; everything looked fine until he turned it around. The doll was a marionette; and a strange one at that, as most of the doll was made of plush material. Normally, a puppet of this sort was jointed and manipulated from above by strings by the master.
The back of Arthur's marionette, instead, had the strings cut off.
He looked down at Matthew, the boy's doll also a marionette, strings also in a similar condition; but Matthew didn't care for that fact, he held the doll close in a hug, seemingly attached to it already.
They took their merchandise to the cash register. As the clerk noticed them set the two dolls on the desk, he smiled kindly and punched a few numbers into an old calculator. Writing the numbers down on a piece of paper that would soon be their receipt, he lightly tapped the pen's tip on the counter as he thought.
The clerk stopped tapping and dropped the pen, and started packing the two dolls into an even older plastic bag. He handed it over to Arthur.
"…How much?" Arthur asked, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, the man shook his head and laughed it off, "Free. I can tell that these two are going to be in good care."
Arthur raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but suddenly felt Matthew reach into the plastic bag to take it out, and immediately cuddle his new doll.
It may have been the look of adoration in his cousin's eyes for the small doll, but something in the back of his head was telling Arthur to accept the offer.
"…Alright then, if you insist; I thank you for your generosity." They shook hands, and chat for a small while. Doll certificates were given to both dolls, along with the clerk's final words as Arthur and Matthew left the store.
"…Love gives them life."