The Doll Shop

The dolls were, yet again, in an untidy heap. Caroline frowned at the bodies lying in impossible angles. They appeared to have all been lifted then dumped back down. They were not going to sell like that. In fact, they would put people off the shop.

She was going to have to climb into the window and sort them.

“Don’t you girls want new homes?” She asked as she took each one out and checked for damage.

This was her bizarre morning ritual. Every evening, she left the dolls lined up, ready to catch a child’s eye, or that of a parent. Each morning, she found the dolls in a huddle. The window area always felt cold, but that could not be an explanation.

There were no male dolls in the display. There had not been since she moved into the shop. The problem was not a lack of dolls, but that the males landed up on the floor. They were kicked out of the window display overnight.

Caroline had learned to accept this was the way the shop worked. It annoyed the heck out of her. She was older, and stiffer now than when she was young. This was an effort she did not appreciate.

The shop liked girl dolls, of all kinds, in the window. Boys were not welcome. There was rarely any damage to the dolls since the boys had been delegated to a shelf in the centre of the store.

As she stretched into the space and righted the dolls, she glanced out. There was a woman watching. This was a regular occurrence. Women stopped and watched. About quarter of those who watched came in the shop.

They came clutching large bags and wearing nervous expressions. Almost ashamed, they would ask, “Do you really fix dolls?”

“If I can,” Was Carolie’s stock reply, “And if it is economical.”

Repairing dolls could be an expensive task. The girls in the window were ones Caroline had taken on even when their owner shook her head and regretfully, passed up the opportunity.

The reconditioned dolls sold. Almost daily, one would depart to a new home. People claimed they had powerful personalities. Caroline could attest to that. She was the one who tidied them up every single morning.

“Are you girls going to be good?” She scolded in a light tone.

Granny Smith was smirking, her grey curls and round body, covered in a bright green smock, almost quivering as if in possession of a secret joke.

Leonora, the princess, graciously looked out at the passersby.

A young man glanced in the window, caught her eye, and scurried off. Caroline wanted to be sad. There was no reason men could not like dolls. But the dolls were giggling.

Not out loud of course. Since Caroline had brought them to the shop, though, she heard them.

“Who are you laughing about? That lad will be too embarrassed to come in here.”

Sudden silence. Nurse Reneé wore a contrite look.

“Right. No more gossip. That’s not the right way to attract an owner.”

The dolls were soon lined up as they were supposed to be. Larger ones at the back, the littlies up close to the glass. The bigger dolls were the ones children liked the best.

 Caroline unlocked the front door then went further into the shop. She was now open for business.

There never was a rush of customers. Barely enough came in to make it worth her staying in business. There were online enquiries but they could be dealt with out of a garden shed sized warehouse. Those were people in the business of making dolls, not buying or repairing them.

They walked in together. Mother and son. Caroline guessed there was a girl, daughter and sister to this pair who had a birthday coming up.

She soon wished she was wrong.

“There’s a doll in the window, a nurse. Could we look at it please?”

The boy, Caroline guessed he was about ten, nodded, “Frankie likes nurses.”

“They are good people,” Caroline agreed as she led the duo to the window.

Beyond her request to see the doll, the mother was quiet. The boy though made up for her. “I don’t like dolls. Frankie doesn’t play much, but she likes cuddly toys. Mummy said the nurse doll looked soft?”

What was not being said saddened Caroline.

Frankie, whoever she was, did not have the energy to play. Suggesting the girl was sick. And, to get a special toy, suggested the illness was not some minor, childhood ailment.

Nurse Reneé was a sweet doll, black haired, chubby, wearing a happy smile. She wore a crisp white and red uniform. Her original owner had been a girl badly injured in a car accident. The girl grew up and moved on. Her parents brought the doll in. Nurse Reneé had needed a freshen up, but otherwise was good to go to a new home. Yet, she had sat in the window with no one wanting her.

Until today.

As she walked up to the window, Caroline glanced around the shop. Something else had changed. She, though, did not have time to stop and work out what was different.

The moment she opened the back of the window display difference was obvious. Nurse Reneé was sitting with Soldier Boy. No, not just sitting together. Her hand was on top of his.

There was a pang in Caroline’s gut when she reached in to collect the doll her customers wished to look at. Soldier Boy looked forlorn.

“He wasn’t there when we came in!” The mother exclaimed.

“Is he in the army?” The boy asked.

Caroline chose to answer the question rather explain how weird things happened.

“Yes. I’m not sure of his name but he’s a brave private in the army. He goes to battle to protect his friends.”

“Is he scared?” The boy’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

“Very scared, but very brave too.”

Caroline recognised the look of desire on the boy’s face. Although he would not ask, the Soldier Boy had caught his attention, and he wished he could have it.

He knew though, that Frankie was the one who needed the attention and special gifts. He may not enjoy his lot in life, but he could understand and accept it.

The mother spoke again. “Does the young soldier have feelings for the nurse?”

Only in a world where fantasy was allowed to blend with reality, could such a question be asked.

It was up to the boy to answer.

“Um. Like kissy stuff?” The boy blushed.

His mother grinned at him.

The boy alternated between staring at the soldier doll and studying his feet. He gave the barest of nods.

The mother turned to Caroline. “I guess we don’t want to separate them then.”

She was a wise woman. The boy managed a smile that lit half the shop.

The two of them disappeared back into the world where young girls got sick. But now they each carried a piece of happiness with them.

Caroline sat down at her desk behind the counter. Sales like that one were emotional. Nurse Reneé had been sitting for a while. Soldier Boy, while new, was of a type that there were usually few buyers for.

After taking a few breaths to calm herself, Caroline addressed the shop. “Well, thank you for making that kid’s day. I don’t know who you are, or how you do it, but thank you anyway.”