Stacy was a real doll. She knew it and held on to it in the silence at the back of the shelf. She didn’t feel dusty or unloved just out and out bored. She didn’t care for the, “whatever” comments of the pretty little lovelies in the first row. All prim, somewhat proper with their flashy purple hair, eye makeup that looked like something off a technologically designed dragon, lips that were bulbous or dresses that shimmied. It all bored her as she listened to their dreams of grandeur.
“Oh it’s like, soon I won’t be here, you know. This is a transitional period, a glitch in my program girls! Soon I’ll be back in wall to wall carpet, top shelf and room with a view. I’m too beautiful for op shop shelf living.” Miranda the chorus girl of the group of professed with such confidence.
Stacy guffawed, she couldn’t help it.
“Oh and you…you think you’ve got a chance,” Miranda said her perfectly sculptured turned up nose tossed in the air.
“As good as any of you,” Stacy replied.
“Ha ha, the only way you’ll be picked up girl, is if you’re melted down and refashioned…get with the program girlfriend, you are old, ugly and dirty. Oh and that hair and seriously you have lost a foot. You’re a hobo doll dear! No one will want you.” Miranda whined while the others giggled along.
“Yeah well, I haven’t been here as long as you.” Stacy had only really just arrived. A week in this dusty corner was more than she could bear. Still, she wasn’t upset it was the life of a doll and she had had a long wonderful adventurous life and someone would see that, she was sure of it.
It was true she didn’t have a foot but losing that foot had been a hoot! Georgie the little wiry terrier had picked her up in his mouth and scooted off with her down the hall. Through the doggy door out into the wilds of the outdoors. It had been a wild ride, with Milly running after them screaming. What a day, to feel the sun warm her face, the wind through her hair and life waving about around her. It took some time for Milly to find her as her dress had caught on a passing branch swinging her out of Georgie’s jaws. That’s when she lost her foot. She dangled on the branch for hours seeing the world from a whole new perspective. Stacy remembered how Milly cried to her mother and how she roused on Georgie for being a “bad, bad” dog. Stacy didn’t mind losing her foot at all, in fact she would have happily lost the other one to do it all over again.
Anyway somehow that little day with Georgie changed everything and she went everywhere with Milly. She recalled the days at the beach, waves washing over her, being tumbled into the sand, feeling it scrape against her body. She remembered floating, bobbing up and down upon the water watching the clouds shape shift, the calls of the sea birds and the smell of salt. She had even gone horse riding, stuck into the pommel of the saddle until she wriggled free and fell. Now, how many dolls have fallen from a horse, she wondered. Her face may be scuffed with years of ground in dirt, her dress was frayed and her hair dreadlocked with adventure but wow, what a life. More than Miranda and her pristine little pretties had ever seen. So Stacy eased back into the corner remembering, creating poetry in her mind to keep her sane.
The following day through the choruses of “this is it, one of us will be snapped up,” by Miranda and her friends. Stacy heard a familiar voice. Somewhat changed, older, more refined but something about the cadence of the words made her strain to hear more.
“It was my mother you see, she went through my old things and thought I wouldn’t need them anymore. It’s just that she has sentimental value and now with me expecting I thought of her. Silly I know.”
“Oh my dear, it is not silly, not at all. I have a doll at home, my mother bought her for me when I was six. Ha ha, she still sits on my bed and I am nearly eighty. I’d never part with her not for anything in this world. The dolls are over there in the corner. I do hope you find her dear.”
Miranda and her friends shushed each other and stood tall and beautiful as the woman approached. One by one she sifted through all the dolls until once more Stacy saw the light as if it were a new day. She felt the familiar feeling of fingers around her torso and saw a face so familiar and yet so much older. It was Milly, not little girl Milly but grown up Milly.
“Oh my I’ve found her, lost foot and all. I was so scared someone might have bought her or worse she had been thrown away. I am so glad I found you Stacy.”
“Bought,” Miranda scoffed.
Stacy couldn’t help herself she turned her head, despite her neck still scratchy with grains of old sand and smiled at Miranda as she was taken away from the dark dusty corner of nowhere land.
“How much do I owe you,” Milly asked the lady.
“Nothing dear, take her home where she belongs and that will be payment enough.” The old lady smiled, Miranda sulked and Stacy, well she just waited for a whole new adventure.
Written for The Writing Reader Prompt #1644 Deadbeat dolls
Written this morning and no editing just as it is, forgive any errors! 🙂 Or point them out it’s good to know! 🙂