Carry me In

“I’m sorry, Johnny, I can’t afford it.” Tanya shook her head. It was always this way on the car ride home from school. Johnny made a list of have-nots to tally a few more reasons she was failing as a mother.

“John.” A voice muttered from the backseat.

“What?” Tanya met her twelve-year-old son's eyes in the rearview mirror and turned the music down. He looked so much like his father with each passing year, especially when he was irritated. “I can’t hear you.”

“My name is John. Johnny is for babies.” He crossed his arms over his chest like a pouting toddler.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, John.” Tanya blew out a breath, trying to calm her nerves. She wished she never named him after his lousy father. John Sr. didn’t deserve his namesake to be carried on by such a beautiful child.

“All my friends are going to soccer camp this summer. I’ll be the only one left behind! I might not make the team next year if I miss out!” His voice rose with each sentence and his arms flailed about.

“I’ll try. Maybe I can think of something.” Tanya held back an onslaught of frustrated tears. There was nothing to think about. She didn’t have the money, and she already knew she couldn’t swing it. Maybe she should get a third Job.

If John Sr. had not left suddenly, soccer camp would be an option. But he did leave, with a young secret girlfriend, and hopped on a plane to Europe a year ago. He hadn’t bothered responding to the many divorce and child support attempts. He cleaned out the savings account on his way out, and Tanya wasn’t sure she would be able to keep the house. Tanya and Johnny were alone and barely hanging on. She had $48.05 in her checking account, which had to last another week. Not to mention, it was her turn to bring snacks to soccer. Pulling into the driveway, the car gave an ominous thunk as she shut it off. Great, another thing to worry about.

“What if I got a paper route?” Johnny kicked at his backpack as he dragged it along the porch.

“Stop doing that.” Tanya swatted at his knees as she came up the stairs behind him. “That’s an idea.” She tousled his hair, reminding herself it wasn’t Johnny's fault that his father was a flake. They were both suffering in his wake, together.

“What’s that?” Johnny pointed at a box sitting off to the side of the door.

“I don’t know. Did grandpa say he would drop off another model for you to work on?”

Johnny shook his head and lifted it for his mother, carrying it into the house. He set it on the table and gently popped open the flaps. “It's a doll.”

“What?” Tanya stepped close behind him. “A doll?”

She looked over her son’s shoulder. Inside the box was an eighteen-inch doll. It had a dark halo of short soft hair, closed eyes, an upturned nose, and bright ruby lips painted in a little pout. It was wearing a tuxedo and had its tiny soft arms clasped together at the waist. It almost looked dead; Life-like and still. Tanya felt as if she was staring into a tiny man’s coffin. She shuddered involuntarily and ran a finger over the doll’s cheek. The face was cold and clammy. She snatched her hand back quickly.

“Close that box.” She ordered Johnny. “Don’t open it again.”

“Where did it come from?” He wondered.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ll call grandma, maybe she dropped it off.” Although that didn’t make a lot of sense. Tanya’s mother had an eclectic style but it didn’t include dolls. She did have a habit of leaving treasures on porches, however.

“You need to do your math worksheet before we go to soccer practice,” Tanya called out as she rummaged through the fridge for enough snacks to take with them. She glanced over her shoulder, but her son was staring intently into the box, mouth open. “Johnny. Please close that box. Go get your math worksheet.”

She watched him ignore her, his fingers flexing on the edges of the box.

She raised her voice, “John!”

He snapped out of it, stomped a foot, and left the box wide open. She could hear him slam around in the living room, out of sight.

Tanya shook her head. There were not enough snacks to make do, which meant spending more money. “Change of plan. You do your math, I will run over to the store. Be ready out front in half an hour. We will be late. Again.”

“Mom! You promised I wouldn’t be late anymore. I have to run laps if I’m late.”

“I know! I thought I had something I could throw together. I worked all day, and I have to work tonight. Just, please, for the love of God, Johnny, help me. Do your math. Put on your cleats and be outside. If you do that, maybe you won’t be late. Please.”

“John.”

“Yes. Fine. John.” Tanya slammed the front door behind her. It wasn’t fast enough to miss her son’s curses of frustration. A twelve-year-old boy shouldn’t know so many bad words. It was another thing she could be proud of as a parent, most of them he had learned from her.

If she could catch a break just once, Tanya thought she might have a chance to balance the scales. Life was too chaotic. She didn’t know how to handle a boy battling the war of puberty. Johnny’s emotions were too big for his small body, and his thoughts too mature. Yet, he continued to revert to childlike behavior. Could she trust him with more adult responsibility? She didn’t know. It broke her heart to try to remember to call him John. She missed the boy writing Johnny on his school homework, as he stuck his tongue through the gaps of his missing teeth in concentration.

And what of that box? It was ominous on the porch, alone without a note. She hadn’t thought to look for an address. Maybe it wasn’t their creepy doll at all and Johnny had carried in something special to someone on the block. Suddenly, she had a sick feeling that she should have moved it back outside before she left.

Thoughts of the strange package began to consume her as she drove. Who would send her a doll? She couldn’t remember the last doll she owned. A barbie, maybe. If she lifted it, would it’s eyes bat open as if it had been merely asleep? She wanted to run her fingers over the doll’s cheek again and touch the strange skin. That thought made her want to vomit.

She realized then, she was standing in the grocery store, staring at laundry detergent. She couldn't remember parking or walking in. With a shake of the head, she begged herself to snap out of it and hurried over to the produce. Oranges were on sale and she could peel them in the car. Not ideal, but workable. Her phone rang on the drive home.

“Hi mom,” she answered quickly, hoping for some answers.

“How is practice going? Will my big guy be ready for the big game on Saturday?”

Big guy. Tanya snorted. Johnny hated that nickname even more. “We are on our way, now.” She fudged.

“What? I thought practice started 20 minutes ago?”

Tanya glanced at the car clock and cursed. How long had she stood in that zombie state, thinking of that box? She tried to sound upbeat, “I’m not sure where the time has gone today. Hey, Mom. Did you leave a package on my porch today?”

“No. But I do have a few magazines and books I wanted to bring by. Maybe tomorrow night, for dinner, I can stop in? I can bring a casserole.” Stop in. Check on them and leave some money hidden in the kitchen for Tanya to find the next morning and cry about in gratitude. She never accepted money from her parents, but they found small ways to help her anyway.

“That sounds great, Mom. Listen, I have to go but I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tanya cursed again after she hung up the phone. Johnny was not on the porch like he promised. If he couldn’t follow this simple instruction, more responsibility sounded like more of a headache.

She snatched up the bag of fruit and stormed out of the car. Opening the front door, she looked down at the bag in her hand. Wait. She looked more closely at it and realized it was a bag of lemons. A dozen lemons, not oranges. What? That didn’t make any sense. How was she so out of it, she selected and purchased a dozen of the wrong fruit? She saw red. How could she waste that money and time with such a silly mistake?

“Johnny!” She screamed in the house, as she slammed the door. She tossed the bag of lemons onto the kitchen table, knocking the box off. It was empty. “Johnny!” She screamed louder. “I swear if you are playing and not ready and in the car right now, I’ll… I’ll….” Except she couldn’t think of a single threat. The house was silent. Eerily silent. It didn’t feel right. “Johnny? Answer me.”

She checked downstairs first. The living room showed signs of life; Johnny’s backpack and kicked-off shoes, but no Johnny. The kitchen was just as she had left it. In the dining room, she toed the empty box that held the doll and looked inside. There was a small remote with a dark screen she hadn’t noticed before. She didn’t touch it. The last thing she wanted was for the doll to spring to life and give her a heart attack.

Slowly she climbed the stairs, pausing every other step to listen. She heard nothing. At the top of the stairs, she whispered Johnny’s name. There were four doors, two on each side, facing each other. Every door was closed. Tanya reached for the bathroom door, on the left. She tapped her fingers lightly on the wood, pressed her ear to it, and quietly called out for Johnny. No answer. She pushed the door open to an empty room. Johnny’s wet towel was on the floor, and his pajamas hung halfway out of the hamper. She closed the door and went on to the second door on the left, the master bedroom. There was no reason for him to be in her bedroom, but maybe he was snooping for Christmas presents, and that’s why he wasn’t answering. She gently opened the door and stepped further in, calling out for Johnny, and glancing into her bathroom. Nothing but pajamas hanging out of the hamper. It struck her how much her son was like her. Panic began to crawl through her. It wasn’t like Johnny to be silent and ignore her. No, Johnny was loud and demanding. Almost annoying in his need for attention. Even if he was doing something wrong, he let the world know.

“John!” She yelled through the house, running from her bedroom across the hall to the office no one ever used. She threw the door open so hard it bounced off the wall and caught her cheek on the way back. She elbowed it away from her, turned into the hall, and slowly walked to the one room left. Something was very wrong. She took a shuddering breath Please, Johnny. Please be ok. She grabbed the doorknob for Johnny’s room and turned it slowly. The door opened, but only a foot before it caught on something. Tanya looked down and saw Johnny’s foot blocking the door. She shoved her head in, a shoulder braced against the door as she screamed and pushed. Johnny lay face down on the carpet, a small pool of dark red blood around his head. His body jolted with each of her shoves against the door. Screaming his name again, Tanya dropped to her knees, clawing at his ankle to try to make more room for her to get to him. How was he hurt? What happened? The door inched open a bit more, enough for her to get her torso in. She reached for his legs, pulling on them as she cried desperately.

Words of nonsense poured from her. “Please wake up, Baby. Please, please, Johnny. Answer Mommy.” Tanya lay on her side, kicking and scratching, pulling her way into her son’s room. She was almost through.

Suddenly, the door shoved closed, smashing her against the door frame. Tanya cried out. A small face peered around the door into her eyes. The doll. It was… real. Alive. It grabbed the door and threw its weight against it again, smashing her. She screamed and pushed her way back into the hallway. She wasn’t fast enough, the carpet slowed her down as it caught against her legs and arms, making them burn. The doll swung itself around the door and flew towards her, latching its small mouth onto her neck. A surprised gurgle popped from her throat, as she scratched against the tiny toy’s tuxedo.

She was shocked by how quickly she became tired. A little thing such as this toy had overpowered her in a vulnerable position. She would die, she knew with absolute certainty, and it would happen soon. Tanya raised to her knees, and let her torso fall forward against the wall. The impact sent the doll flying from her. She raised herself on shaky legs, taking a step towards her son’s room. Her baby boy was in there, hurt, or worse. The baby she swore to protect when he was born. The boy she promised to never abandon when his father did just that. Tanya pushed the door open again, but before she could slip inside, the doll grabbed the edge of her skirt and climbed her like a squirrel would a tree. Swatting and screaming, she took a step back, realizing too late she was missing a high heel, and tumbled down the stairs, backward.

At the bottom of the stairs, she wheezed for breath through broken ribs. Her foot was facing the wrong way. The doll was still latched to her neck. She closed her eyes and gave in.

The tiny vampire finished his meal in record time. He watched the woman’s eyes as her life drained from them. She had put up more of a fight than her son had. It was a rush to hear the woman frantically search the house. The vampire very rarely got to hear such panic these days. Tumbling down the stairs and smashing her with the door was glorious.

The boy was weak. He stared into the box for a few minutes after his mother had left. Once fully under the doll’s spell, he carried it upstairs, and pet its head as he went. The boy let out a small cry and then, succumbed quickly to death. It was almost boring how easily a human could be tricked into thinking he was a doll. The spell he created made his victims docile.

After his feeding frenzy, he wiped his mouth and carried his box to the porch. He crawled in, closed the flaps, and used his remote to guide the drone to pick him up and carry him to the neighbor's porch. Once in place on the new porch, he steered the drone to the roof, to rest and wait.