Doll House

Cassandra was just getting started exploring her new home. It was a huge old house, built over 200 years ago, in the Historic District in a small town in Maine. The apartment that she and her family had moved away from would have easily fitted into the ground floor of this mansion.

Her parents had been very happy to find this beautiful place at such an affordable price. It seemed like it should have cost at least twice as much as they paid. They wondered why it was so cheap. Was it structurally sound? Was the water okay? What was wrong with it to make it so affordable?

But the real estate agent assured them that it was an “exceptionally good deal” and didn’t have any more to say about it. Cassandra’s parents had checked it out, of course, and had plenty of inspections done on the place, and none of the inspections turned up anything seriously wrong with the house. So, taking the win, Andrea and Charles Wingate pulled together the down payment, got the mortgage, and were now the brand new owners of Wisteria House.

Cassandra thought that it made the house all the more special, having a name. Wisteria House. Her daddy had told her that wisteria was a climbing vine with a pretty flower. Mommy had shown Cassandra the vines, ancient and woody, that climbed up the cast iron spiral staircase leading to the little balcony outside her parents’ bedroom. Cassandra couldn’t wait until Spring, when the wisteria would come to life.

But it was still late winter, and today it was raining, a cold, grey rain. A good day for indoor exploring. There was much to explore!

The house had been vacant for a while, the real estate agent said, so the Wingates had hired a cleaning service to come in and deep-clean it. The wood floors gleamed, the windows sparkled, and all the furniture smelled like lemon-fresh Pledge.

And there was a lot of furniture. The house was full of furniture. Big, old, heavy pieces made of maple and cherry; couches and overstuffed chairs upholstered in pretty flowery patterns from long ago. Andrea Wingate oohed and aahed over the “priceless antiques” while Charles praised the solid wood floors. Cassandra didn’t really care about “antiques” but she thought the furniture was pretty, and she liked that it all came with the house.

She’d heard Mommy and Daddy talking about it, though, wondering why the house was completely furnished, why the last owners hadn’t taken any of it with them. Cassandra didn’t really care why it was here, she just knew that she liked it. It felt “homey.”

Cassandra’s bedroom was just down the hall from her parents’ bedroom, on the second floor of the big, old house. Her room was furnished with a beautiful canopy bed, like a princess’s. There were pretty curtains at the windows, and there was a little reading nook built into one of the windows - a window seat, covered in soft red velvet. Though she was only 5, Cassandra could read some of her fairy tale books all by herself, and she especially liked the stories about princesses. She pretended she was a princess in her fancy bedroom.

At the end of the hall, down past the bathroom and the spare bedroom, there was a trap door in the ceiling, with a rope that hung down from it. When she asked about it, her daddy pulled on the rope, and a stairway came down from the ceiling, like magic! Daddy checked it out first, of course, but then Cassandra followed him up to see what was up there.

It was an attic playroom! Cassandra was enchanted. There were things stored up there, too - some more furniture (These people had a LOT of furniture! Cassandra thought), some boxes of old-fashioned Christmas decorations, a big mirror in a shiny gold frame, some paintings like you might see in a museum, a rocking horse, a puppet theater… and a doll house.

Cassandra dropped to her knees in front of the doll house. She peered into the little rooms, and she saw a doll family at a table. It looked like they were eating breakfast. There was a mommy and a daddy and a baby in a high chair. And a little girl with blonde hair, just like Cassandra’s! Cassandra reached into the doll house to pick up the little girl doll. She had blue eyes, too, just like Cassandra’s. It was like Cassandra had been turned into a doll!

She cradled the Cassandra-doll in her hand, admiring the details. “Look, Daddy!” she said, showing him the doll. “It’s a me-doll!” Daddy smiled absentmindedly, not really paying attention to her. Cassandra tucked the doll into her pocket to show Mommy.

They climbed carefully down the stairs, and Charles closed the trap door. Cassandra went looking for Mommy, to show her the Cassandra-doll. She found her in the kitchen, of course. Andrea loved the big kitchen, with all the cabinets and counters.

“Look, Mommy!” Cassandra squealed. “It’s a me-doll!” Andrea took the doll from Cassandra and examined it closely, turning it over in her hand.

“It really does look like you!” she smiled. “Where did you find her?”

“In the attic! There’s a whole bunch of toys up there! Other stuff, too. And there’s a secret staircase and a trap door to get into it!”

A look of concern crossed Andrea’s face. When Charles followed Cassandra into the kitchen, Andrea asked, “An attic? With toys? Is it safe for Cassandra to be up there?”

“It’s fine,” Charles answered. “Sturdy floors, the stairs are solid, and there’s a handrail.”

“I don’t know,” Andrea murmured doubtfully, handing the doll back to Cassandra. “I don’t want her climbing up into an old attic to play.”

Cassandra, sensing that she was about to lose the dollhouse, objected. “But I WANT to play with the doll house! “ She stamped her foot, preparing for a tantrum.

“I think she’d be fine up there, but maybe one of us would have to go with her to be sure she’s safe,” Charles said.

Cassandra, not mollified, insisted, “I WANT to play with the doll house! I don’t wanna hafta wait for you to play with me!”

Cassandra, of course, had Daddy wrapped around her little finger. He would do anything to make his “princess” happy. “How about this: I’ll bring the doll house down out of the attic and set it up in your room. That way, you can play with it anytime you want to.”

Cassandra thought about it, gazing at the doll in her hand. “Okay,” she said grudgingly. “But I want to play with it NOW!”

“Now, Cassandra - “ Andrea objected.

“No, no, I’ll go get it down right now,” Charles rushed to offer. “Then you can play right away! OK, Cassie?”

Cassandra, all smiles again, agreed, following her daddy back to the attic stairs. She followed him up the stairs, and collected the doll family and their furniture into a box, which she carefully carried to her bedroom. Charles followed with the doll house, and Cassandra had it all set up in her room in no time. Charles kissed her on the top of the head and left her to it.

Cassandra spent a happy day playing with the doll house and the little doll family. The girl doll - who she christened “Princess Cassie” - was the star of her play. At the end of the day, she carefully laid Princess Cassie on her little doll-sized canopy bed. Kissing her good night, Cassandra climbed into her own canopy bed and fell instantly asleep.

In the morning, Cassandra eagerly jumped out of bed and hurried over to the doll house. To her surprise, she found that Princess Cassie was not in her bed. Instead, she was back at the breakfast table, where she had been when Cassandra found the doll house in the attic. She picked up the doll and looked at it closely. “Were you hungry?” she asked the doll. “Did you get up early for breakfast?” Shrugging, she put the doll back down at the kitchen table.

The rain had stopped, so Cassandra was able to get outside and explore her yard. The house sat on a large piece of land, with a big lawn and several gardens. There was a rose garden that must have once been beautiful, but was now overgrown. A stone path led through it, but the prickly roses had made the path impassible. It looked like there might be a statue of some kind in the middle of it, but Cassandra couldn’t get close enough to get a good look at it.

There was an herb garden tucked up along one wall of the house. It, too, was overgrown, but the herbs within it were thriving. Andrea was looking forward to using fresh herbs in her cooking. There were clusters of crocuses and daffodils poking up, bright green leaves and splashes of color from early flowers brightening the lawn.

Far to the back of the yard there was a small shed. It was so overgrown that Cassandra could not make her way up to the door. She peeked in the windows, but they were so dirty she could see nothing inside.

When she tired of playing outside, she returned to the doll house. Princess Cassie still sat at the table. Cassandra shook her head at the thought that the doll had moved last night. She decided she must have just thought she put the doll in her bed, when she really must have left her at the table where she had found her.

Looking at the dollhouse, she decided that it needed a yard, like the real yard. She found some green felt to use for the lawn, and she cut out some paper flowers to scatter around. She made a miniature rose garden, using brown felt and some silk flowers Daddy had given her for Valentine’s day. She used popsicle sticks to make a little shed like the one at the back of the yard. The day flew by as she played.

That evening, she made a point of tucking Princess Cassie into her doll-sized canopy bed. She kissed her on the top of her wooden head. “Sweet dreams,” she told the doll. “And no sleep-walking!”

Mommy came up to tuck Cassandra into her own bed, and she fell asleep quickly, tired from her busy day.

In the morning, Cassandra bounced out of bed to say “Good morning” to Princess Cassie. But the doll wasn’t there. Cassandra blinked and rubbed her eyes, thinking she just wasn’t awake yet. But when she looked again, Princess Cassie was definitely not there.

Confused, she looked into the doll house kitchen. Princess Cassie wasn’t there, either. Where could she be? Why wasn’t she where Cassandra had left her?

Cassandra slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Mommy and Daddy were just having their coffee.

“Did you move Princess Cassie?” Cassandra asked as she sat down at the table.

“What?” asked Daddy. “What are you talking about?”

“Princess Cassie!”

“Do you mean that doll?” Mommy asked. Cassandra nodded. “Why would we move her?”

“Well, someone did!” Cassandra insisted. “I tucked her into her bed, and she’s not there any more!”

“Maybe you put her somewhere else, and you just forgot,” Daddy offered.

“Maybe the first time,” Cassandra allowed, “but not this time. I made sure I tucked her in!”

“What do you mean, ‘the first time’?” asked Mommy.

“The first time I had her in my room,” Cassandra explained. “I put her in bed - at least I think I did - but in the morning, she was at the table with the rest of the family.”

Mommy and Daddy exchanged a look. Cassandra could see that they didn’t believe her. “It’s true!” she said, stomping her foot. “And even if I did make a mistake the first night, I’m sure I tucked her in last night. One of you must have moved her! Unless she got up and walked away all by herself!”

“Now, Cassandra - “ Daddy began, in his “explaining” voice.

Mommy shook her head at him, interrupting. “Why don’t we go upstairs and look for her,” she suggested. Cassandra reluctantly took her hand, and they went up to her room.

Cassandra pointed at the bed. “See? She isn’t there!”

Mommy looked where Cassandra pointed. “Oh, look, her bed is just like yours!” Mommy exclaimed in delight. Cassandra scowled and tapped her foot. “But you’re right,” Mommy hurried on, “she’s definitely not in it. Let’s look around and see if we can find her.”

Together they peered into the doll house. No Princess Cassie. “You’ve been busy,” Mommy noticed, “you’ve made a yard just like ours! Can you tell me about it?”

Mollified by her mommy’s attention, Cassandra showed her the rose garden with the silk flowers, the herb garden with the paper herbs she had made, and the popsicle stick shed.

“Look!” Cassandra cried. “Princess Cassie!”

Sure enough, there in the shed was Princess Cassie. The popsicle stick door gaped open, and the doll lay inside. “How did you get there?” gasped Cassandra. She turned to Mommy for an answer.

“I don’t know,” Mommy insisted. “I didn’t put her there. This is the first time I even saw the yard that you made. There is a little shed in our yard like this, isn’t there?”

Mommy and Cassandra exchanged puzzled looks. Finally, Cassandra turned away, doll in hand, and put Princess Cassie back in the doll house. She placed her at the kitchen table.

“I wonder…” Cassandra said softly.

“What, honey?” Mommy asked.

Cassandra turned to face her. “I wonder if there was a little girl like Princess Cassie who lived in this house.” She peered at Mommy, clearly expecting an answer. Her expression was unsettling.

“Well…” Mommy began, meeting her daughter’s eyes. She nodded decisively. “We can certainly find out. I’ll talk to Daddy about it. And the real estate agent. Someone must know.” She smiled and kissed Cassandra on the top of her head. “You play, honey. We’ll figure it out.”

“Did you solve the Mystery of the Moving Doll?” Charles asked jokingly when Andrea returned to the kitchen table.

She shook her head. Poured herself another cup of coffee. Returned to the table.

“What?” Charles asked.

“There’s something very odd about all of this,” Andrea said.

“Odd? About a kid forgetting where she put her toy? I’m sure the doll is up in her room somewhere. She just forgot where she left it.”

“We found the doll,” Andrea said slowly. She looked up, meeting Charles’s eyes. “It was in her room, alright, but it was not where she left it.” Andrea explained how Cassandra had made a yard replicating the real yard, right down to the gardens and the shed. “That doll was in the shed. The door of the shed was pried open. The doll was lying on the ground inside the shed. Like… like…” She shook her head, unwilling to go on.

“There’s something weird about this house, too,” she continued. “Why was it so cheap? Why was it completely furnished? Why was the real estate agent so cagey about it?”

“Well, what do you think is going on?”

“I’m not sure. But something.” She sipped her coffee in silence for a minute, then sat up straight, squaring her shoulders. “I’m going to find out what.”

Charles laughed. “You have got to be kidding me!” His smile faded as he studied her determined face. “You really are serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am. You stay here. Keep an eye on Cassandra - and that wretched doll.” As he began to protest, she slammed her hand down on the table. “No! I am not joking! You keep our daughter safe!” Grabbing her purse, Andrea set off for the library.

A middle-aged woman sat at the library desk. “Good morning! Welcome to Fair Harbor Library. How may I help you?”

“Well…I’m not sure,” Andrea began. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “This may sound…odd… but I have questions about the house my family just purchased.”

The librarian’s face tensed. “Not Wisteria House, by any chance?”

“Why, yes!” Andrea gasped. “How did you…there is something about that place, isn’t there?”

“Just stories, really…” the librarian offered.

“Tell me. Please.”

The librarian studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “Follow me,” she said. She led the way through a door at the back of the library, marked “Archives.” With no hesitation, she walked directly to a box on a shelf and opened it. Inside were stacks of newspapers, dated fifty years ago. With another doubtful look at Andrea, she pulled out the topmost paper and handed it to her.

“Where Is Alyssa?” the headline shouted. Beneath that, the subheading read: “Search continues for missing girl.”

Knees shaking, Andrea sank into a chair. She looked from the article to the librarian in shock.

The librarian silently handed her another newspaper. And another. Headline after headline speculated over the disappearance of the child. In the grainy photos, Andrea could see a distinct resemblance between the missing child and her own Cassandra.

Stunned, Andrea read through the front-page articles. The child had disappeared from her bed one night. Search parties had been sent out, and photographs of the child had been circulated. No trace of her had ever been found.

The articles became smaller as time went by, moving from the front page to the second page, to the middle, to the back. Eventually the story disappeared.

Andrea looked at the librarian. “She was never found?” she whispered.

“No,” the librarian confirmed. “After a few weeks, the entire family disappeared, leaving no forwarding address, cutting off communication with the community. The child disappeared. Then the family disappeared. The house stood vacant for the longest time. Eventually, a real estate agency was contacted by lawyers for the Estate of the mother, and the house was put on the market.”

“And then we came along,” Andrea murmured, “and bought the place. I knew there was something up, when such a large, beautiful house was offered at such a low price. But we jumped at it, no questions asked. Counted ourselves lucky. Lucky…” She shook her head.

“If I may ask…” the librarian began delicately, “what has … happened … to bring you here?”

Andrea shook her head, with a self-mocking smile. “You’d think I’m nuts,” she said ruefully. “Let me think about this for a while.” She stood, placing the newspapers back into the box. “Thank you for your help.”

Andrea walked slowly through the town, heading back to the house, thinking hard. It was as if … the doll was trying to tell them something. Trying to tell them what happened to the missing child, all those years ago. She shook her head. That was impossible! Yet….

What to do? Tell Cassandra? Out of the question! Cassandra was just a child. Tell Charles? She considered carefully. He might not believe her. Probably would not believe her. But so what? Even if he laughed at her odd fantasy, he could help her keep their daughter safe.

When she returned to the house, she slipped into the back yard, walking over to the shed tucked way back. It was half-hidden in the riot of weeds and vines, difficult to approach. She turned away and went to the garage, where they had begun to acquire gardening tools: shovels, rakes, pruning implements. She donned heavy leather gloves and grabbed a few rags. She selected a large pair of loppers and a pry-bar, and returned to the shed. Using the loppers, she cut away the vines and bushes until she could reach the door. The door itself was locked with a rusty padlock, so she used the pry-bar to pry it open. It gave with a loud screech, the padlock falling to the ground.

Wiping the windows with the rag to admit some light, she gingerly stepped into the shed. It was very small, and very dark. Gardening implements hung from the splintery walls, and shovels and rakes leaned against the back. Without touching anything, she examined the tools. “Surely that’s just rust?” she speculated, noticing some discoloration on one of the shovels. Shaking her head, she returned to the house.

Charles gave her a questioning look as she stepped through the door, but she just shook her head. She wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. “Where’s Cassandra?” she asked.

“Up in her room. Playing with that creepy doll. I wish I could stick it back in the attic, but Cassandra won’t hear of it.”

Sure enough, Cassandra was deeply involved with the doll and the doll house. When she heard Andrea enter the room, she looked over her shoulder, then put the doll down. “What do you want?” Cassandra asked hostilely. “Do you want to call me a liar again?”

“No, no,” Andrea assured her. “I know you’re not lying.”

That gave Cassandra pause. “You do?”

Andrea nodded. “How is Princess Cassie?” she asked.

Cassandra considered the doll in her hand. “I’m going to put her to bed early today,” she said. “She’s tired.” Kissing the doll on the top of her head, Cassandra laid her on the canopy bed and carefully tucked her in. She skipped across the room to take Andrea’s hand, and they went down to dinner together.

That night, when Cassandra was sound asleep, Andrea crept into her room to check on her daughter - and the doll. She peeked into the doll house. Princess Cassie was right where she belonged, tucked into her frilly bed.

The next morning, though, she woke to her daughter’s shriek! She and Charles ran from their room to their daughter’s. Cassandra stood in the middle of the rug, hand over her mouth, pointing a shaking finger at the doll house. More specifically, at the rose garden beside the doll house.

There, in the middle of the roses, lay Princess Cassie, face down. Silk flowers surrounded her.

Andrea ran to Cassandra, enfolding her in a tight hug. “It’s alright, baby, it’s alright!” she cried, rocking Cassandra in her arms. “You’re okay! Mommy and Daddy are here! We’re here! You’re safe!”

Cassandra sobbed unconsolably. “I’m calling a doctor!” Charles said, pulling out his cell phone.

“Call the police, too,” Andrea said. Cassandra stiffened in her arms.

“What?” asked Charles. “Why?”

“I want to talk to them,” she stated. “Call them. Doctor first, of course, but call them.”

An hour later, Cassandra was tucked safely into her parents’ bed, sleeping in her daddy’s arms. The doctor had stopped by - they still did house calls in this small town - and he had checked Cassandra over and given her a mild sedative.

Andrea sat at the kitchen table with the two police officers. One, Officer Murphy, was very young, probably in the first year or two of his career. The other, Officer Williams, was considerably older, closer to the end of his career than the beginning.

“I think I know where to find Alyssa,” she announced. “Well, her body, anyway.”

“Alyssa?” the younger police officer asked, confused. “Who is -”

“Alyssa Carter?” the older officer asked, startled. “Before your time,” he told Murphy.

“How do you even know about that?” he asked Andrea.

“I can’t - explain - I just -” she began. She shook her head and tried again. “Look, I can’t explain. Please, just believe me. I think she’s buried in the rose garden. Dig it up now, and if she’s not there - well.” She looked straight at the older officer. “She’ll be there. I just - I have a feeling - “

“Alright, Ma’am. We’ll look.”

A small team of officers was dispatched to dig up the rose garden. After cutting their way through the ancient roses to get to the center, they found the concrete base of a long-gone statue. Prying up the base, they got to work digging beneath it. In a remarkably short time, they discovered what Andrea knew had to be there: the skeleton of a long-dead child. No one doubted that this must be Alyssa.

Andrea invited the officers to search the small shed, where they found a shovel with traces of blood. Piecing the facts together, they deduced that Alyssa had been killed - most likely by her father - all those years ago, when the family disappeared. There were still many questions - questions that would probably never be answered.

But for the Wingates, the nightmare was over. Cassandra continued to play with the doll house.

But Princess Cassie never moved again. She had told her story.