Read Online Christmas Trees & Monkeys by Dan Keohane, Kellianne Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Dan Keohane, Kellianne Jones
Ads: Link
“Dolls,” in her loud but undemanding tone.
* * *
“ But I want to get one for you!” Megan bunched her fists and stood defiantly in front of her mother. Joanne kept her hand on the door handle and tried to look stern.
“ Megan, I understand this is an exciting thing, but you’re not taking care of the doll we bought you last night. It wasn’t even in your bed this morning.”
“ I take care of it. It just fell behind something. PLEASE. There were some really nice ones out there, and it’s almost your birthday, and there were so many pretty things in there, and oh Mommy, please just one more...”
“ Dolls!” called the woman in the robes. The tinkling, swinging cart passed gradually by their house. Joanne turned from her daughter and looked outside. As many people hurried towards the cart tonight as before. Mothers or fathers, pulled along by excited children. Some of them, if Joanne could tell through the cross-hatched screen and dim street lights, looked as worried as she. No one had seen this woman before, and now here was the wagon two days in a row.
Joanne looked down at her daughter and knew any further argument would be fruitless. “One more,” she whispered. Instead of whooping with joy as Joanne half-expected, Megan only smiled and led her mother by the hand, out across the grass, like so many children were doing on similar lawns along the street.
* * *
Megan heard the thing talking to her mother, convincing her to buy another doll. She screamed from under the bed, “Mommy! Don’t buy one! She’s not me! Don’t buy one!” Her words never sounded, never made it past Megan’s own plastic doll mind. As she had been doing all day, the girl tried moving her arms, turn herself over, but the arms were fixed, immovable. She could think, could feel her skin on the dusty floor. But none of it felt right.
Her head was turned to one side. A chubby, plastic doll arm stretched away, one finger pointing across the room. A tiny mote of dust stretched web-like between Megan’s new hand and the floor.
“ This isn’t my hand,” she sobbed. She heard the thing and her mother go outside. Megan wanted to scream again, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. No one could hear her. When she cried, no tears fell from her glassy blue eyes.
* * *
“ Coming to bed?” Joanne leaned on the door frame.
William looked up, startled. “What? Oh.... no. Not yet. I want to stay up and watch the news.”
Joanne looked at the delicate figurine which Megan had picked out. It leaned against the small clock sitting on top of the television. The doll was a Chinese princess, nine inches high with flowing pastel robes, white-faced with a red dot on each cheek. Joanne had to admit it was stunning. She said, “If having that thing stare at you all night is distracting just drop it down anywhere.”
She tried to sound light, but there was a harshness to her voice.
William looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, the doll? No problem. It’s actually kind of pretty.”
Joanne shook her head. “Maybe, but it’s bizarre. All of this is.”
She wanted to say more, wanted to scream . Everything about these past two nights buzzed across her skin like electricity. People didn’t wander down streets selling dolls, she thought. She’d said as much to William earlier, and to her friend Nancy when the two ran into each other at the store that morning. The robed woman had found her way onto Nancy’s street, as well. How that mysterious woman could do both neighborhoods after being so swarmed with customers on Claisdale, Joanne couldn’t say. Yet Nancy said she’d come by around nine o’clock. Maybe there were two of them. Jehovah’s Witnesses trying a new tactic, perhaps. She’d have to ask Nancy if the cart came by tonight.
Joanne thought all this, but said nothing. William stared transfixed at something on the television. Finally, she said, “Don’t be too late,” before turning and
* * *
“ But I want to get one for you!” Megan bunched her fists and stood defiantly in front of her mother. Joanne kept her hand on the door handle and tried to look stern.
“ Megan, I understand this is an exciting thing, but you’re not taking care of the doll we bought you last night. It wasn’t even in your bed this morning.”
“ I take care of it. It just fell behind something. PLEASE. There were some really nice ones out there, and it’s almost your birthday, and there were so many pretty things in there, and oh Mommy, please just one more...”
“ Dolls!” called the woman in the robes. The tinkling, swinging cart passed gradually by their house. Joanne turned from her daughter and looked outside. As many people hurried towards the cart tonight as before. Mothers or fathers, pulled along by excited children. Some of them, if Joanne could tell through the cross-hatched screen and dim street lights, looked as worried as she. No one had seen this woman before, and now here was the wagon two days in a row.
Joanne looked down at her daughter and knew any further argument would be fruitless. “One more,” she whispered. Instead of whooping with joy as Joanne half-expected, Megan only smiled and led her mother by the hand, out across the grass, like so many children were doing on similar lawns along the street.
* * *
Megan heard the thing talking to her mother, convincing her to buy another doll. She screamed from under the bed, “Mommy! Don’t buy one! She’s not me! Don’t buy one!” Her words never sounded, never made it past Megan’s own plastic doll mind. As she had been doing all day, the girl tried moving her arms, turn herself over, but the arms were fixed, immovable. She could think, could feel her skin on the dusty floor. But none of it felt right.
Her head was turned to one side. A chubby, plastic doll arm stretched away, one finger pointing across the room. A tiny mote of dust stretched web-like between Megan’s new hand and the floor.
“ This isn’t my hand,” she sobbed. She heard the thing and her mother go outside. Megan wanted to scream again, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. No one could hear her. When she cried, no tears fell from her glassy blue eyes.
* * *
“ Coming to bed?” Joanne leaned on the door frame.
William looked up, startled. “What? Oh.... no. Not yet. I want to stay up and watch the news.”
Joanne looked at the delicate figurine which Megan had picked out. It leaned against the small clock sitting on top of the television. The doll was a Chinese princess, nine inches high with flowing pastel robes, white-faced with a red dot on each cheek. Joanne had to admit it was stunning. She said, “If having that thing stare at you all night is distracting just drop it down anywhere.”
She tried to sound light, but there was a harshness to her voice.
William looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, the doll? No problem. It’s actually kind of pretty.”
Joanne shook her head. “Maybe, but it’s bizarre. All of this is.”
She wanted to say more, wanted to scream . Everything about these past two nights buzzed across her skin like electricity. People didn’t wander down streets selling dolls, she thought. She’d said as much to William earlier, and to her friend Nancy when the two ran into each other at the store that morning. The robed woman had found her way onto Nancy’s street, as well. How that mysterious woman could do both neighborhoods after being so swarmed with customers on Claisdale, Joanne couldn’t say. Yet Nancy said she’d come by around nine o’clock. Maybe there were two of them. Jehovah’s Witnesses trying a new tactic, perhaps. She’d have to ask Nancy if the cart came by tonight.
Joanne thought all this, but said nothing. William stared transfixed at something on the television. Finally, she said, “Don’t be too late,” before turning and
Similar Books
