Dollhouse

Jack was driving home after a long week. The country road, lined with tall pine trees, was wet. Jack was tired. The slow curves of the road home always lulled him into a calm and as his mind relaxed into the drive he could almost forget that his wife had recently packed her bags and left him.

He didn’t blame her, not really. He had made a mistake and she had caught him and he had paid for it, the greatest price he could imagine. She had taken his 5 year old daughter, Esther, with her. When Esther’s face had disappeared around the bend, all the colour in Jack’s life had left with her. Now, just the heaviest loneliness.

The truth was that Jack had loved his wife once and it did hurt that she had left him, but the deep pain, the true crushing weight in his chest lived there because he could not kiss his little girl goodnight and he was not going to be able to watch her grow up everyday.

Jack felt the knot in his throat and in the same instant knew that even if he did break down and cry, that no one would know and no one would care, because he was alone and he hated being alone.

This weekend was going to be torture.

Jack rounded the last bend before his own driveway and sitting on the side of the road was the most beautiful, ornate dollhouse he had ever seen. Without thinking, he pulled over. This would make a wonderful gift for Esther. She loved playing with dolls and had smaller toy houses for her dolls, but nothing like this. This was something else.

Jack inspected the miniature house for damage. Nothing. Not a scratch. A little wet from the rain but no big deal. Jack loaded the dollhouse into the car and drove off. He felt good and for a few minutes he felt like a good father. That didn’t last long.

Later that night, after enjoying too much scotch, Jack found himself peering into the small world inside the house. The detail was absolutely astounding. Everything looked so real, and there, in the kitchen standing in front of the stove was a doll. So lifelike for a toy.

“What are you cooking, little lady?”

Jack moved around to try and see her face.

“Did I hit the jackpot, a mute who loves to cook?”

But no matter where he moved he could never quite find an angle to see her face. Eventually he gave up leaving the still and lifeless doll in front of the stove in exchange for another glass of scotch and then bed.

--

Jack’s eyes jolt open. Did he hear something? He looks at his phone. 3am. He is wide awake.

Then… the gentle soft melody of music floats upstairs. Jack sits up. It’s coming from downstairs. Did he leave the TV on? Can’t be. He didn’t watch TV, he just messed around on his phone all night.

Jack listens closely, and yes, there is music coming from downstairs.

A shiver runs up his spine.

Jack swings his legs over the side of his bed and heads out the bedroom door. As soon as he leaves his bedroom the music is louder. The lounge. He can even tell what music it is. It’s Elvis.

As Jack steps down each stair he begins to notice a soft yellow light coming from the lounge. A warm, welcoming light and what is that, the smell of cookies?

Jack slowly comes around the corner of his lounge.

“This is incredible. It must have batteries.”

The dollhouse is completely lit up, every room, every light is shining, so very bright and warm. Jack follows the smell of cookies closer, looking around the kitchen to find out where the music is coming from...and there, standing in front of the stove is his doll.

Jack can't stop staring, so perfect. So still.

Then a voice that is not his, “Hello Jackie.”

Jack stumbles backwards as if propelled by a jolt of electricity. Did he hear that right? Jack moves towards the dollhouse again and looks through the kitchen window. Slowly, the doll’s head turns to face him. Her perfect smile and perfect face stare motionless straight at him.

“Won’t you come inside?”

As the words are spoken Jack is inside the kitchen of the dollhouse sitting at the table.

The doll, a woman, turns from the stove holding a plate of freshly baked cookies. She is the most beautiful creature he has ever seen in his entire life. Her smile, her shape, her skin is -- breathtaking. He just watches. She glides on silk from the stove over to the table.

“Jackie, would you like a cookie?”

Jack looks around and stammers, this can’t be right, this can’t be happening. What is happening? Where am I?

Words come as his mind plays catchup.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in my home, Jackie.”

“This is nuts, this can’t be right.”

“Won’t you eat a cookie?”

Jack feels a wave of dizziness, he starts to hyperventilate, he stands up from the table and stumbles forward searching for air which he can’t seem to find. The woman’s smile never fades as Jack falls to the floor and into darkness.

--

Jack woke up wrapped in his blanket in bed. He squinted, hungover. His mind thudding into a pained wakefulness.

“What happened last night?”

Sipping his morning coffee and staring the dollhouse, Jack tries to work out how last night’s dream could seem so real. He's fixated on the her, the doll standing in front of the stove. How perfect she seems. He shakes himself back to his senses. It might be better if he took it outside and burned it to ash.

After determining that he is not crazy and that burning this beautiful house makes no sense he turns, grabs his keys and walks out the door. He is going to watch a double header at the local cinema and then hit the bar with Barry. Maybe all the distraction will help. He could use some good distraction.

Jack falls into the house around 1am. He isn’t just drunk. He is wrecked. He crashes through the hallway table trying to find his balance. His fumbling arms knocks paintings off the wall as he feels his way through to the recliner. He collapses into his chair, aims the remote at the TV, puts on the golf channel and then blackness.

--

Jack's eyes open in the recliner. Behind him he hears the music, the same music. This can’t be. He turns slowly in his recliner and looks at the dollhouse, bright and brilliant and there she is, standing in the window of the kitchen, waving him over.

“Come on over, Jackie. I’ve been lonely and I could use a visit.”

Maybe it’s the warmth of the lights, the smell, the music, but at that very moment Jack knew that he was in love with her.

“Would you like to come over?”

Before Jack can answer he is inside her kitchen, sitting at the table, feeling like he never wants to be anywhere else. The woman turns from the window and walks behind him placing her hands on his shoulders and starts to gently massage. Jack hasn’t felt this kind of human connection in months, his entire body sinks into the seat in pleasure.

“You have a fun day today?”

“Yeah, I watched some movies, went to the bar. How was your day?”

“Well, Jackie, I was here, in my house. Nothing much exciting happens to me, why don’t you tell me what is happening out there, with you?”

Jack can’t help it. He starts to cry and everything comes out. Everything about his life, his divorce and how much he misses Esther and how much he wishes he could just be with her and watch her grow up.

The woman listens and for the first time in a long while Jack feels heard.

“And that is the sorry state of my life.”

She places a gentle hand on his face.

“Would you like a cookie?”

Jack hasn’t felt this good since his daughter was born. He takes a cookie and smiles.

“Thanks.”

He bites into the cookie, but the way the woman is looking at him distracts him from how delicious it is. Her eyes are trained on him, mouth slightly parted and something in the way she is leaning towards him makes Jack feel like this night is about to get much better.

The woman takes Jack’s hand and gently leads him out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into the bedroom. She stands for a moment looking out of the window into Jack's enormous world, before in a single rehearsed motion, drops her dress to the floor and slides into bed.

“Won’t you keep me company tonight?”

Jack shakes his head.

"I'm just a man."

He gets into bed with this beautiful woman.

--

Jack emerges into consciousness the next morning and finds he is not in a bed. Not in his bed, not in the bed in the dollhouse, he is sitting in an armchair in front of a dark TV.

He tries to get up, but can’t move. He strains to stand, but no part of his body flinches. Through his paralyzed eyes he notices that he is still in the dollhouse, in the lounge.

What is going on!?

Through the window Jack notices the face of the woman looking down at him. Huge. Human. The way he should be.

“Good morning, Jackie.”

Jack screams, but nothing happens. He thrashes his body, it's useless. She smiles.

“I was a doll for a long time, you’ll get used to it eventually. The madness will subside.”

His phone rings. His phone rings and she answers!

“Hello Esther, no I’m a friend of your daddy? Do you like dollhouses? You do, because your daddy has a present for you and I’d like to send it over to you as long as you make me one promise. You promise to play with it every day."