Middle of Ed

As the movie ended, Ed noticed a drop of water that had traced itself down Belle’s makeup and was clinging to her chin. He went to the kitchen to retrieve one of his carefully stored and folded handkerchiefs and returned to find that the drop had fallen onto the gingham dress she’d worn for the occasion. “Bother,” he said.

He wiped her face gently, careful to not muss her hair or smudge her makeup. “I’ve a surprise for you,” he whispered. He went back to his coat. He pulled another doll from the sleeve.

The doll had rather thick eyebrows, and the hair was easily better, but otherwise it was identical to Belle. For the rest of the evening, Ed fixed the new doll, whom he’d dubbed, “Margaret.” Belle watched on in silence. The new doll, if one ignored the eyebrows, became more beautiful than Belle under the delicate and precise hand of Ed.

Ed had prepared this time, and had brought home a special box for Margaret. It had scrollwork along the sides and was made of dark stained oak. Ed had little he had to spend his money on and, having saved for a better place to live, had a well padded bank account from which to draw.

Ed introduced the two of them congenially. “Belle… this is Margaret. Margaret… Belle.” He then left them on the couch to become better acquainted while he prepared a light dinner.

Ed served dinner. Belle and Margaret didn’t argue… but they did stare coldly across the table, without touching their food. Ed ate cheerfully until he noticed the awkward silence and slowly lost his appetite. He eventually crawled to bed, leaving the others to stare at each other in the moonlight.

When Ed awoke in the morning, the boxes were occupied, and the dishes had been put away. He decided not to disturb what was, no doubt, a late night for them, and quietly went about his morning routine before going to work.

Even with the tension of that night, over the next few weeks Ed brought home several more dolls. Pat, a sexually androgynous doll that preferred to wear trousers and had thick curly blond hair, was the first. Miko’s skin was not the standard color. Ed dressed her in a kimono for the first day, but Miko insisted on a leather jacket and jeans… and he acquiesced. Cheryl was the unassuming short, plump one with a bob cut that Ed had spent almost an entire week on. One of the last to join them was Denise. Denise had hair like Pat’s but lacked the ambiguous sexual nature. In fact, it was quite possible that there was no aberration that could be detected with Denise. Yet Ed had to fix her.

For the first time Ed manicured a doll, including nail polish, before completing his work with her. In the end, although she was made of the same cheap plastic as the other dolls, she looked like she was made of china. If there was perfection amongst the population, Denise was it.

When he arrived home, Ed had been worn by work. In his hand was a small note from his boss, which he had read at stop lights:

“To: Quality Control

Re:

It has come to our attention, over time, that several dolls have gone missing. Far be it from us to point fingers, however, our recycling process has had to suggest that our profits could be up this quarter by 3/4ths of a cent, were it not for the absence of these dolls. We hope that whoever has taken them returns them to the recycling unit (bin #33-42) and that we do not see a repeat of these events.”

This note had depressed Ed, as he was certain they knew about him, and that the finger of justice was firmly planted on his head… ready to squash him. Still, he couldn’t return them if it meant certain death; which it did.

These thoughts were predominant when Ed opened the door, note in hand. What he saw was perhaps the most shocking thing he’d ever witness. On the floor, face down, was the body of Margaret.

Ed, thinking quickly, threw the note on the couch while he ran across the room. He knelt next to her and took up her wrist, checking for a pulse. Nothing. He carefully rolled her over, hoping that there wasn’t a spinal injury, before checking her breathing. Still nothing.

He had no recourse but to dial 911 and hope that it wasn’t too late.

“911 Emergency Services,” the civil employee said in a tired tone through the static-laced line. “What is the nature of your emergency.”

“I… I think she’s dead. I’m not getting a pulse and she’s not breathing.”

“Just hang on sir, tell me… where are you at?”

“At home,” he said before stammering off the address. It was still a shock, but he was trying to be calm.

“Is there something I can do?”

“You could try CPR until the ambulance, sir. Do you know how to perform CPR?”

“It’s just… her body is so tiny!” Ed was in tears, his heart breaking that he could not save her.

“Is this a child, sir?”

“No… she’s fully grown… she’s just small!”

“Calm down, sir, everything will be all right. Can you give me any further information?”

“She’s about 2’ long, 3 lbs…”

“Three pounds? Sir, are we describing a human being?”

“…”

“Sir?”

“She’s a doll.”

“Are you aware of the penalties for prank calling the emergency services?”

“I…”

“Good day, sir.”