Dolls Eyes (Watty Awards 2011)

Dolls Eyes

                Chapter 1

I pulled my head out of my book just in time to see and elderly lady with a brown paper bag clutched in her leathery pale hands walk into the store. The bell dinged its usual two seconds after anyone entered. I put the book down and looked through the musty summers’ eve air. The whole store seemed sepia toned, which was interesting, considering that it was an antique store.

                “Welcome to Camilla’s. Can I help you? If you want to browse we are open for another twenty minutes.” I said the old woman.

                “Oh no, no.” She said in a clear, high pitched voice. “Do you buy?” She seemed to be in quite a rush to get rid of whatever she had. I assumed she needed money.

                “It depends on what it is ma’am. What are you offering?”

                The lady opened up the bag and a puff of dust came out as if it hadn’t been opened for months. She reached inside with her veined hands, with skin as pale and thin as rice paper, and pulled out and old fashioned porcelain doll.

                The doll was mesmerizing. She had blonde banana curls that framed her face, with a button nose and rosy lips and cheeks. She had on a beautiful Victorian dress; robin’s egg blue and eggshell white, lacy and long, with a mandarin collar and a matching parasol clutched in her dainty little hand.  White Mary Janes adorned her feet. The doll was quite magnificent. The most magnificent part of the doll was her eyes. I couldn’t be sure of their colour, because as I moved to different angles to admire her, her eyes transformed from a sea blue to violet. The eyes seemed to pierce into me to draw me in…

                I pulled myself out of my reverie.  I reached under the counter and grabbed an old yellowed binder, with several lettered dividers sticking out.  I flipped over to the section marked “D” and flipped through the pages until I found what I was looking for. “Dolls; Porcelain;” I ran my finger down until the paragraphs detailing on the pricing of dolls. “Victorian Dolls: A good condition Victorian doll (clean lace clothing, clean hair, scuff free face) can be bought for $50. Sell at the price of $65.” I read this off in my head and looked up.

                “Okay ma’am.” I said. “I’m willing to buy this doll for $50. Are you okay with that?”

                “Oh, yes. That would be excellent.” She said. “Thank you.”

I wondered why she would thank me for buying the doll. Perhaps she needs the money, and was worried she couldn’t sell it. I thought as I opened the old fashioned register. I counted out 5 ten dollar bills, which we dusty just form being in the antique register and handed them to the lady. “There you go. Have a nice evening.”

“Thank you.” She murmured. “You have a good night too, Miss.” The bell clanged on the lady’s way out.

I looked at the clock on the wall. There were five minutes to closing, so I grabbed my purse and jacket off the chair and locked the store up, putting the keys in my wallet as I left. I was the manager of Camilla’s Antiques, and it was owned by my mother, so I always had the keys with me. 

The late summer evening air was sweet and clear. It had the crisp tinge of coolness in it, hinting at the fall only a few weeks away. Some of the leaves were even beginning to change colour, but had not yet began to fall. I breathed in deeply, trying to empty my mind and zen out on the walk to my apartment, but as I began to walk along the riverbank pathway, but there was one thing that seemed to worm it’s way into my head… The doll and her hypnotic eyes.

Ten minutes later, I was checking the messages on my home phone.  Two messages. One from my mom, and one from David. I played the one from my mom first.

“Hi honey,” Came the congested voice of my mother “I need you to work at the store tomorrow and the day after. I have a bad cold. I know its $150 pay, but you can take a $20 dollar bonus if you go in because of the short notice. Please call me by 6:30, you should probably be home by then. Please call me as soon as you can so I can know whether or not to call someone else. Bye, sweetie.”

I dialed my mom. She picked up the phone.

“Hi Savannah.” Her voice came out all stuffy on the phone so it sounded more like this “Haib Sabanna.”

“Hi mum.  I’ll work tomorrow.” I told her.

“That’s great! I was worried that you’d have plans.” She sounded relieved.

“I didn’t don’t worry.” I liked working at the store. The days were calm and quiet. There weren’t usually too many people at the store. I would have to sell some antiques and make some tea and biscuits for the people who stopped by to drink and read at the café, but otherwise, I would have plenty of time just to read, draw and relax. Some days, I could even nap! “Well, I think I should let you rest mom. Get better. Bye.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

I hung up the phone and listened to David’s message.

“Hey, Vannie, it’s David. I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner this Wednesday at Seven. I’ve been so busy these past few weeks, I haven’t seen you much. Call me when you can so I can make reservations.”

                I dialed David’s cell phone. His message machine picked up my call. “Hey this is David. I’m not here right now so please leave a message with your name and number after the beep.”

“Hi David,” I started. “It’s me, Savannah, It’s Sunday now. Dinner on Wednesday sounds great. I’m working two extra days this week, so why don’t I treat you to dinner this time? Love you. Bye.”

I sighed and sat down.  All night, I thought of that doll. I burned my dinner, cut my leg shaving and laid down on a bed that wasn’t there, all because of that doll and her eyes.