It was nothing. Nothing. At. All. There were eyes, alright, and a mouth with teeth, painted and carved, even clothing.
What she thought were living wild eyes was a drop of well placed water on the biggest doll’s face. Water in a dusty place like this? Where did it come from? Oh. It's glue like those fake flowers in hole in the wall diners. The doll wore a traditional parka of red painted burlap sack and fish skin with an over sized yellow button in the middle. The fur ruff was rubbed off, the thin skin of some animal attached to the edge of the faded hood but no fur. It’s thick legs were a suggestion - more like peg legs than real appendages. It’s arms by comparison - doll arms to be sure - were thick and detailed with fingers and nails open wide in a perpetual hug. The deeply browned arms may have been inviting at one time but, thick with dust and deep scratches, were not now.
Not here in this room. I don’t think I want to be hugged by you. Aggie thought she saw a lifted eyebrow but on second look, it must have been her imagination. It had to have been.
A Bee Gees song ran through her head, Just my 'magination, runnin' away with me. Maybe it was The Temptations?
The second much smaller doll had dust balls where it’s hollowed out eyes were. It’s clothing was more refined. A faded red kuspuq - a light arctic jacket - graced it’s figure along with a headband of stiff fur pointing straight up.
Beautiful and brittle. Very brittle, She thought as she saw a strand fall to the dusty shelf. Looking at the clothing closely, Aggie thought someone had taken great care with the stitches and the intricately carved harpoon that it held. It dangling delicately in its hand.
Pretty. Whoever had made this doll could have had a career in miniatures. The only thing out of place was a crudely cut hole on the bottom skirt.
The third, of a dingy yellow, was a distant cousin to the second doll. It looked coarse and hastily thrown together. Bits of white thread were what made the eyes look wild and alive. Its clothing was of scraps of fur, cloth and…
Paper mâché? A fishhook hung from the head, glued in haste or accident.
Some kiddo put this together. From a book. In the dark. With their eyes closed. Aggie smiled tightly at her joke.
The biggest one, though no bigger than Aggie’s forearm, looked the most alive - even with the giant yellow button. The mouth sneered and the eyes wide and staring. Aggie picked it up and only realizing then that it wasn’t a sneer but a miss-painting of a child.
She picked up the others one by one. The carvings were not as refined as she thought - crude in fact. A child’s carvings. The eyes looked like faded white paint and marker.
Aggie sneezed - dropping the doll she held. And again. And another series of sneezing. Her hand flung out to steady herself. Aggie, watching in slow motion at the dolls tumbling to bounce on the floor, could do nothing about it for the sneezes kept coming. Her knees buckle, and dropping to the floor, she fell down on the dolls and then turned sideways to get away from the pain of the dolls hard limbs underneath her shins.
Her nose dripping with snot, Aggie finally recovered. She lay there, on her side looking at that doll.
It still looks like a sneer.
Righting herself, she found, that in her sneezing fit, she had kicked the intricate one under the shelf. Aggie put the two back on the shelf. Her hands were too big to reach under the shelf for the smallest with the red coat. As a consequence, it would have to wait.
A line from a play floated through her mind, 'Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, my sweet.' or later today. When it's light out and not so…dark.
Feeling another sneeze attack coming on, Aggie ran out of the room only to slam into Mandy, falling to the floor in a sprawling mess. Jumping up, Mandy looked down on Aggie with accusatory eye.
“What are you doing in there? No one goes in there.”
“I did and it was interesting." And scary. She shivered. "Who was the little girl who lived here,” Aggie asked.
Mandy looked at her. Measuring Aggie.
Weighing. Judge-y judging. Finally, she reached for Aggie. Aggie flinched and ducked before she could control it. Looking again, Mandy still had her hand out. Aggie reached for it again guiltily and Mandy helped her from the floor.
“Leave them be. They don’t like to be disturbed.”
“They?” asked Aggie. Mandy looked at Aggie with pity. Aggie clamped down on the anger before it reached her face.
You don't know me. Don't pity me.
“Your twin’s room.”
Aggie almost fell back to the floor with that news. Her twin. Her sister. Her family.
Why don't I remember her? Where had she been all these years? How come she didn’t contact me? The next words out of Mandy’s mouth were just as bad.
“She died.”
That’s it? She died. Dead. As in not alive. Unalived. As in Aggie was alone again in the space of one short moment. She had had family - a sister even and then nothing. Now no one. Not a single person. Her knees went weak again.
Mandy guided her to the chair. She pulled up the milk crate and sat measuring Aggie. Judging, again. The outburst Aggie had gathered to pour out was cut short by Mandy.
“She was four at the time. Your mother had given her to your Aunt from which you are named. They lived in this house. Your mother owned it but she never lived long in it. Your father too. Together. But it was decided that twins were not a good omen and in fact may have been a bad omen. They broke up and he moved to Chualthbaluk with your twin. Yer mom stayed in this house with you. He doted on her, your twin. He passed in a boating accident shortly after you left. Your mom was…had difficulty with this place. Your namesake, Aunt Agnes and her third husband, Henry, lived here to take care of your twin.”
Aggie chafed under the telling.
Why don't I know her? My twin. Sister.
Aggie couldn’t speak, her thoughts in turmoil. Anger. Hope. Pain. Anger. Emotions streamed through her. She shifted in the chair and took a deep steadying breath when Mandy began the story again.
“She was a beautiful child. Long black curly hair. Like yours. Quiet and composed. Her eyes the darkest brown and her lashes long and black as night. Watchful, that one. Drinking in life.
“Henry made her the first doll. The biggest. ‘Cept didn’t have no eyes, just a suggestion. And hint of a mouth. A proper irniaruaq. Your Aunt Agnes made the second one. The red qespak was amazing. The sewing, the detail was divine. I wanted it myself. Every child wanted it. Later, your twin made the last doll.” Mandy fell silent again. Aggie wanted to ask what her sister’s name, Mandy sighed and looked heavenward before she started speaking.
“God rest her soul. She passed. Those dolls. They were what got her.”
“What do you mean?” Suspicion flooded Aggie.
“I mean she wasn’t satisfied with how they looked. She made those iingit.” Mandy pointed to her eyes. Mandy pointed to her mouth, “Those qanet, she carved. She nah had permission. Taboo-gguq.” Mandy shook her head slowly, more than a little afraid.
“Taboo? Who says it’s taboo,” Aggie countered indignantly.
“Everyone. Elders. Unaa.” She waved her hand vaguely in the air.
“Why would anyone say that? There’s plenty of dolls in the world that…,” Aggie trailed off, “Even here…” Mandy had indiscernible expression and turned to look at the fire for long moment before speaking again.
“It is a fact out here. In your cities and the lands that you travel, there are facts that do not hold for different lands. You can get a cab in some parts of New York and not in others. Voodoo, Sangria-”
“Santeria-”
“Santeria - doesn’t work in some areas as it does in others.” Aggie squinched her eyes to look sideways at Mandy.
No, that's not how it works. It's all in your head. Not my head. I worked years to get it out of my head. Superstitious nonsense is not real.
“I don’t think that’s the way-“ Aggie stopped again.
“The way the world works?” Mandy asked.
“Okay. Whatever,” replied Aggie. Mandy looked toward the window and then back at Aggie.
“Out here. The spirits are especially strong. You roll your eyes but understand that you are out here. On the Tundra. Things are different.”
“Different how?” Aggie challenged. We, I, am a rational person.
“Your twin. She carved those faces and they became Little People. The spirits came to inhabit them.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing.” Mandy then became more forceful.
“You don’t have to think it. It is a fact. Your twin, she made them and spirits were drawn to them. Inhabited them. At first it was nothing but then… little things happened. She knew she was in the wrong. She knew. That’s why she kept them hidden from your aunt and uncle.” A heavy silence fell on the room. Aggie’s brain went round and round in circles.
Is Mandy out of her mind? Telling me this story in the middle of the night. Did I see real eyes? Who was my sister and where is she buried? Where is she? Aggie almost blurted out her last thought.
Instead she asked, “What things happened?”
“The birds left. Dogs left from Neeviiqaa. Then the mutilations came. Jeffers joked it was them crops circle you got Outside. Sue, that crazy white teacher said it was aliens. Had our kids looking up at the sky for a long time. And here it was bad.” Aggie looked at Mandy in puzzlement.
Bad? How? They're just dolls. Mandy continued.
“Yes. Here, in this house, it was bad. One week they got sick bad. The next week your aunt was found with a hollow knitting needle stuck in her chest. The blood bubbled out of that needle in her chest for hours before she was found. It was horrible. If she had just came to dance practice like the rest of us. The next week. Your twin. She was found in a tree outside of town. High up above the tundra. Out, at those hills you were watching after dinner. Jeffers found her. Roots wrapped around her body. Tightly. You know what I mean? It broke her ribs. It- She- Her- There was blood everywhere. She is still out there, I think. Village council decided not to bury her on village land. Might be something still out there. Waiting.”
“Oh Gawd. Thats a horrible way to go. How do you know it wasn’t someone from here. Jeffers or a…?”
“Your uncle. He found blood on the dolls. Cut it off the doll. Sent it in to the Troopers. He was found in his living room chair the next day. Dead of apparent heart problems. Not that he had any before… Came back as your twin’s blood.”
“Sounds like just another way to say ‘we don’t know,’” Aggie said.
“Out here. We do know. So don’t disturb them. Don’t wake them. Don’t disturb their rest. We’ve had that room closed since before you left.”
Too late.
“I don’t know what you have been told but I didn’t volunteer to leave. Make no mistake. I was taken.” Mandy pursed her lips tightly and that was the end of the conversation.
Later that morning, Aggie stared at the ceiling above her bed. The logs were painted with cobwebs. It was dark and foreboding - much like the day. Still groggy, she rolled over. Cold and gloomy clouds almost hugged the land outside her window. Shivering, Aggie rolled out of bed. Dawn was almost here.
Coffee. Hot coffee. The memory of the smell enticed her from the room to make a pot.
As she drank her cup o’ joe, the story of those dolls floated through her brain. Looking out of the kitchen window, she ran through what Mandy said. Those dolls had had lives, separate from her twin.
They did things. No. More superstitious nonsense. What can I expect from a backwards village in the middle of nowhere? They were just dolls.
Aggie became aware of movement outside. Something small with bright red faded cloth ran through the grass.
What was that? It was herding a hare into the open. The red doll. This isn't happening. Aggie was awash in fear. She looked at her coffee mug and then the coffee pot.
Did she drug me? Mushrooms, peyote, LSD? Her eyes reluctantly drifted back to the clearing in the back yard.
I can't move! Am I still asleep? Her legs felt like lead weights. The other two dolls arrive.
Can they see me? What would they do if they saw me watching? There was movement and the hare screamed like a small woman. A tear silently moved down her face. The grass turned red as blood spurted everywhere. Those dolls moved in, stabbing the hare. Suddenly she could taste bile at the back of her throat. The hare stopped screaming and just twitched. The irniaruat dragged the hare into the brush at the end of the yard.
Aggie let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She gingerly place the cup on the edge of the counter and let her weak legs collapse.
No. No. No. No, I didn't see that. I have to get more meds when I get back. Who can I call? No one! No one has to know I am going crazy. No, it's the drugs in the coffee. On the floor she hugged herself tightly.
Aggie stayed there, shaking in fear, until Mandy got up, nearly an hour later. By that time, Aggie had told herself that she didn’t see anything. That she was still asleep. Making coffee. In the kitchen. Those dolls were probably still in the bedroom. Still covered in dust. Still on the shelf.
Please be on the shelf.
As Mandy made her way to the kitchen, Aggie got up and dumped her now cold coffee down the sink. She crossed to the stove and grabbed a small log to put into the low coals. She opened the stove door and smoke roiled out into the living room. Mandy quickly crossed to the stove.
“Open the dampener! Open the dampener! Gah!” But as she was saying it, she reached up to the horizontal handle on the pipe above the stove. She quickly turned it vertical and smoke stopped billowing out. Aggie bent down and tossed the wood into the stove.
“I saw something,” she started when she stood back up.
Mandy interrupted her. “You saw nothing.” Mandy’s voice had a waver. She sounded like she needed to convince herself. Aggie looked quickly up at Mandy. Mandy’s eyes belied her semi-conviction. Fear flashed across Mandy's face while it filled Aggie.
The thought whispered in her head, I saw something. I saw nothing. I saw something. I saw too much. She shuddered. Mandy answered with a shudder herself. They both glanced at that door and back to make eye contact with each other. The day was slow compared to that moment.
That afternoon, Aggie found herself at that door again.
Mandy is outside. I'll just take one peek. If they are still there then I know it was drugs in the coffee. Maybe.
She opened the door. The same dusty cluttered room greeted her. Dim light emitted from the lone window shed enough light that Aggie saw those eyes staring at her again.
Oh, gawd! They're here. They see me! A shudder ran through her body as she froze again. The moment was broken when Aggie heard Mandy's footsteps on the porch. Aggie quickly shut the door and crossed to her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed, kneading Squishy. She didn't come out until Mandy called her for dinner.
The next morning, from the living room, with plain hot water in her cup, Aggie gazed out across the town when something flashed. She saw the big brown irniaruaq, with the big yellow button, herding a puppy into the road. It was dispatched in much the same way as the hare but this time the big doll made eye contact with Aggie as they finished the puppy. They dragged it into the underbrush across the road, just like the hare.
Do the dolls get hungry?
Aggie thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. Not at all. The finely made red doll came back to the openness of the yard. A tight smile, more like rictus, appeared on the dolls face. It waved slowly at Aggie, then with a measured look it turned and sauntered into the underbrush.
What? What was that about? Was it waving or beckoning? Aggie couldn’t be sure. Was it a wave? No. Not a wave. A beckon. Not a wave. A come ‘hither and thither.’ Not a friendly wave. A beckon.
Aggie realized that she was still looking out the window at that place where the dolls had been when something brushed against her elbow. If she had been a cat, she would have been glued to the ceiling but she wasn’t. Instead, she whipped around and lashed out. Her hand came in contact with something. A body. Mandy yelled. Aggie yelled. They grabbed each other and dropped to the ground.
“I saw… I saw it,” Aggie tightly hissed. Mandy looked at Aggie with fear. Pure. Unadulterated fear.
“Yes! I saw it and you can’t tell me that I didn’t. They were out there and they ki…,” Mandy reached out and covered Aggie’s mouth. Aggie stopped talking when Mandy looked back at that door where those dolls were supposed to reside.
That’s when Aggie realized in a village that should have had at least 50 dogs, not a single sound of barking or howling could be heard.
Not a single dog lives here. Just that puppy. No, not the puppy.
On the floor with Mandy, Aggie, herself smelling of fear and sour sweat, knew what she had to do.
I have to get out of here. Out of Neeviiqaa. Still afraid, they lay, heads really close.
Mandy whispered into Aggie’s ear.
“Those irniaruat are awake again. It’ll be a long time before we are safe. Catch the next flight out. But there won’t be one out until next week,” she sobbed a little. “And don’t go out alone. Don’t do anything alone. Or stay in the village. It don’t matter, you can go into any house if you see those dolls. They'll let you in. I think.”
The next few days passed tensely and yet quietly. They didn't go berry picking. She saw the dolls only once when she came out of the store the next day, They were standing like a totem pole, one on top of the others, looking into a house by the store. On the fifth day, as Aggie walked down the boardwalk in the middle of town, she thought about her dreams of coming home. She had wanted to meet all of her cousins.
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We’d eat. We’d laugh together and it would be family again. The end of the boardwalk came and went. Lost in reverie, Aggie daydreamed of meeting her nonexistent family. She only realized what she had done only when the water lapped at her shoes on the beach by the airstrip.
Dammit. She was alone. The sun, high in the sky when she started, was now close to the edge of the world. Aggie, terrified, looked up and down the beach. Not a single soul of man nor beast existed on the desolate strip. It was getting darker.
I could run to the house. No. I can… A rustle in the tall grass on the far side of the beach. The fear made her hands shake.
There. In the tall grass. She peered at the grass trying to make a decision of which would be worse bear, wolves, or those dolls. A hare hopped out and she let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Just as fast, it thumped the ground and was gone.
Whew! That was… close. Aggie quickly formed a plan.
Survive. The. Night. The whole night. Quickly, she gathered leaves and driftwood.
Just like in Yellowstone. Just like Arizona. Fire always helps. No bad thing with fire. Piling them high, she open her trusty lighter. SHWICK. It took three more tries to get it to light.
SHWICK. SHWICK. SHWICK. Relief flooded her very being at the sight of that small flame from her lighter.
Carefully, Aggie lit the dry wood and fanned it and nursed it to a blazing bonfire, adding wood until it rose high into the night sky as dark descended on the earth. There was no light except for her bonfire and the stars to illuminate the night. That faint rustle was back. Shivering she threw another piece of driftwood on the fire.
Through the sparks, at the edge of of the circle of light, Aggie saw something glint in the night. She squinted into the darkness. Probably a seashell. A rustle behind her. She whipped her head around, staring at the spot where she thought she heard the rustling.
Nothing. It's nothing at all. The fire popped and crackled gleefully.
I wish I could be as happy. Poppa-lockin' like any fool on the dance floor.
Aggie’s hackles raised from her head down to her feet. Out of the edge of the grass the irniaruat stepped onto the beach, one by one. The big one carried a halibut hook, large and weighty. The smallest carried a kitchen knife. It looked like a wicked long sword in its small hands. The fishhook on its head glinted. The intricate one held multiple sticks.
As they advanced, Aggie grabbed her hands to stop them shaking.
Oh, gawd. Oh, gawd. Oh, gawd. Oh, gawd. The intricate doll came first. It threw a spear. It hit Aggie’s shoe. My shoe is huge. Giggling at the absurdity. Aggie knew at once that the irniaruat were closer. As they kept coming, Aggies breath became shallower and shallower. Twenty feet.
My therapist will never know about this. Ten. They’ll lock me up. Eight. I’ll never see the light of day. Seven. I am going to die. Five. How are they even moving? Three. Survive. Two. Not be the dog, not the hare. One. Survive.
The biggest doll with that large yellow button, jumped. Time slowed. The smells sharper, the air crisper, the plan formed. Short. Simple.
Her foot swung of its own volition.
Connecting. Connecting. Connected. Relief flooded her as the doll left her foot and launched over the bonfire.
“Noooo!” She thought her frustrated yell could be heard all the way back in Chicago as the doll sailed off into the night.
Then the last two were upon her. Climbing up her clothing - she didn’t know how but they were there. In her face. The red doll harpoon/spear stabbing at her eye. The shock was fleeting as the harpoon missed, landing in her laugh wrinkles at the side her eye, scratching down her cheek.
Well, that hurt. A new pain began at her neck. Scrabbling at it with her fingers, she caught at it.
This is not happening. The pain was sharp and now in her hand as well.
The knife. She held tight. With her other hand she grabbed at the red irniaruaq.
This is happening.
Holding the both dolls in her hands, she looked like a mad woman. She threw them into the bonfire. Screams. Tiny screams came from the fire but Aggie jerked around to the darkness.
One more to go. One more. And presently it came out into the dwindling circle of light. That yellow button glinted in the firelight with it’s eyes.
It rushed her again. This time her kick was better timed, better aimed. The doll landed in the flames with its fellows. It, too, let out a high pitch scream. A whoosh of bright phosphorescent green colored ash rushed up into the sky.
Following it up with her eyes, the green grew up into the night sky, Aggie saw a face. Two. Three faces showed before the phosphoresce dissipated. Aggie thought she saw them smile. She sank to the sand next to the fire.
Maybe they can rest better now that the irniaruat are gone.
Mandy found her there the next morning.
“Welcome home,” Mandy said as she sank to the sand beside Aggie. Still no fanfare. Maybe that was a good thing.
Welcome, indeed.
Now that you got through that how about a little reprieve? Go read Hello, Stranger by Maddy.