THE DOLL

New Zealand Listener, Volume 20, Issue 495, 17 December 1948, Page 15

THE DOLL

By

S. Morrison

Jones

ANNY and Tiki walked single file across the gorse paddock and waded the tiny’ stream where the water slipped quietly over the pebbles. They pushed through the gap in the hedge and stepped into the empty playground. Every morning when they reached it, it was lonely and silent. They were always very early, and they were always first. The school was closed, and the high staring windows looked down at them without welcome, so that if they did speak it was in whispers; and the birds singing in the wattle trees by the gate emphasised the silence. Fanny hated this morning emptiness but Tiki seemed not to notice it.

They drifted over to the long bench against the wall and sat on it, in the sun, resting their bare feet on the hot asphalt. Fanny, with her big toe, pressed bubbles of tar softening in the heat. Tiki stayed quite still, his stomach drawn in; sitting with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. His face was pale under the brown, ------e-----eee

and the worried frown on his forehead didn’t lift for a moment. Fanny was restless. It wasn’t long before she began to move about on the bench, standing up and plumping herself down again. She climbed up on the bench suddenly, and began running along it, her eyes all the time on the gate from the road by which the other children would come. She jumped to the ground, and began playing hopscotch on aden marked out ‘with white chalk. She took no notice of Tiki. And after a while she went to the gate and out on to the rough metalled road. She passionately wanted the day to begin, so she should not be alone with Tiki whom she could no

longer understand; Tiki who didn’t want to play any more, so that he had become part of the change and the loneliness instead of a shield against them. She wanted noise and movement and laughter. The waiting was longer that morning. It was the last day. Teachers were not hurrying ‘themselves, and children were not afraid of being late. But they came at last, the children turning in at the gate in twos and threes, laugh-

ing and talking, excited, and cleaner and neater than usual, because of the party. ‘yk slouched away at last to the boys’ part of the playground. He tried half-heartedly to join in a game of ball, but he was never in the right place. He was always too slow and whenever the ball came near him he fumbled with it and dropped it, so that even younger -and smaller boys jeered at him and pushed him impatiently away. He smiled apologetically, still frowning, the frown dominating the smile, so that they felt still more annoyed with him, Fanny was quick and full of life, moving all the time, here, there, and everywhere, so that even when the neat, fastidious little girls didn’t want, her in a game she took no notice of them and was soon the Jeader, She was happy because she was no longer lonely, and she was excited about the party. She cheeked the bigger girls and she was rough with the primers; the blood mounted in her cheeks, making them warmly brown, and she pushed the tangled black hair from her hot forehead. .She was very dirty and her dress was ugly, and the other girls avoided taking her hand or being caught by her. in the game. All over the playground the éalling out and the shrieking and the shouting went on incessantly, only a few little groups intent on secret’ chatter making oases of dfiiet in the din. There was never.a single moment .under the hot sky when everyone paused, (continued on next page)

| SHORT STORY

(continued from previous page) when every child was silent suddenly and at once: The teachers came, strolling slowly in the heat, and the monitors ran to stand importantly beside them while the doors were opened, but like everyone else they were shut out until the party was ready. Miss BROWN came from her own room to the Primer room where the tree was,’ carefully carrying a large oblong box. She put it down on a desk, and helped the Infant Mistress to tidy the room, clearing away the mess they had left the afternoon’ before, picking up brown paper and string, and snippets of coloured paper, and putting away paste and scissors. When they had finished they looked with some satisfaction at the tree, which had really cost them a great deal of trouble. It was only a branch which the Head-

master and the big boys had _ leaned against the wall, but it looked festives and interesting. It was almost hidden by parcels hanging /from _it,, and by coloured , chains and other decorations made from shiny glazed handwork ROP et) and on the top was a silver star. The Infant Misiress sat down at her desk to tidy it, and both women had a happy

lightness of mood from the thought of . freedom, and _ holidays, so _ near. Only a. few more hours, and _ the moment which had been coming so slowly nearer for weeks would be theirs, and they both hoped that everything would go smoothly, because smoothly was quickly, nothing to hold on to Time and keep it back-Miss Brown turned to a small table near the door, and the pleasure it held for, her, that she. had kept at the back of her mind since she had entered the room, brought a smile to |her face. On the table she had arranged plasticine animals, cows and dogs and horses, standing on _ yellow raffia that she had cut and scattered to look like straw. She took up the oblong box and opened it, and lifted out with careful hands a doll’s cradle, and a baby doll with wide staring eyes. She set the cradle on the table among the animals, and the doll in the cradle, and she stood back to admire them. She looked across at the Infant Mistress, _wishing she would show the interest that would make an explanation necessary. After a moment’s waiting she couldn’t keep silent. Wasn’t it joll? decent of Mrs. Martin to lend me this, she asked. I never _dreamt she would. You can’t buy any'thing like it nowadays, of course. It was hers when she was a _ child-she brought it out from England with her. Even Annette’s only allowed to hold it on-her birthday, for a treat... . There was triumph in her voice. The Infant Mistress had been in the town a year longer than she had, and yet she hadn’t managed to make a particular friend of "Mrs.eMartin-the nicest home jin the district; and a cars... "I promised to take. the. greatest care ‘of it-of course I shah't let any of the

children touch it-they’ll be just as happy looking at it. But I must say a baby doll makes it all so real for them, don’t you think so? Better than a plasticine one? But the Infant Mistress had her head in the cupboard where she was putting books away, and it was not clear what she thought. Miss Brown sighed her contentment. Anyway, they simply loved the story of the Babe in the manger when I told it to themisn’t it awful, I really believe some of them hadn’t heard it before. She altercd the position of one of the animals, fastidiously wiping her fingers afterwards; she disliked the feel of the plasticine, she couldn’t help thinking of the warm dirty fingers that had moulded it. Even Fanny was interested-and as she said Fanny, she wiped her fingers again-and it takes something to make an impression, on her. I’m convinced she’s a really bad little girl. The lies -and cheating-and even stealing! : :

Nothing — _ simply nothing’s safe from her. And at that moment as she looked towards the door, there was Fanny’s black head beyond the _ glass, peering, impudent, and she reddened wich vexation. . Go away, go awey at once, she called, and she hated the intrusion, she liked goodness and obedience and order so much; and she reallv felt. too. that

some privacy had been violated when Fanny looked with her wild eyes at that doll, serenely calm and dainty and clean. "THE party was a. success.@ Big girls sang sweetly and big boys sang sheepishly, shuffling their feet on the dusty floor, and hanging their heads. Little girls and boys recited woodenly and competently, or in snatches and enchantingly, stopping for smiles and sidelong glances at the tree. The tree was stripped, and everyone had presents and lollies and paper caps. -And it was all over, and most of the children had drifted outside, and their voices were dying away and quiet was settling slowly down, and the holiday was at last almost begun. As Miss Brown gathered up her presents-cakes of soap and handkerchiefs and cards, how sweet it was of them to like her so much, she was sure she had far more than the Infant Mistress had-she went over in her mind what she would do. Tidy up, that shouldn’t take long, her boarding place for a change of clothes-she was hot and tired and there should be time for a bath if she hurried; Mrs. Martin’s for a cup of tea and a good talk before she went to the station for the train. . . Please, Miss Brown, mother’s baby doll-she turned and patted Annette’s smooth shining hair. I'll take it to mother myself, dear, she said. But, please, it’s not there, it’s gone. She turned quickly, and looked towards the table, and the doll was truly no longer there. And all at once they were about her like a swarm, with the insufferable importance. of children having something to tell. . . Please, Fanny took it, I think... Please, Fanny wanted to hold it, and Annette said she wasn’t to go near it, and please, she went. home,

(continued from previous page) and I think she took it when we were al] over by the tree... . She didn’t doubt it for a moment, It would be Fanny, of course. And she was furious. She looked round quickly. Tiki was at the door, just slipping through it, holding his own present, a book, and Fanny’s, a pencil-case, and she called him back sharply. Go home at once, Tiki, she said, as quickly as you can, and see if Fanny has the doll, and bring it straight back here-do you hear? Because the boy seemed positively stupid, more sullen and slow than usual. He just stood there, unresponsive, not hurrying, not running as any of the others grouped round her would have done, anxious to serve her. He gave her one glance, then his eyes were on the floor again, and he rubbed one dirty cracked foot in the dust, in a way that made her shudder... ugh! I... he said, I couldn’t take it from her; she wouldn’t let me, and she could see at cnce that he really was ‘quite useless. There was nothing for it but to go herself. It was too bad-she looked at her watch, all the eyes on her, eager for sensation. Poor little Annette was crying, and she forced kindness to her voice through her vexation. Don’t ery, dear, I'll soon have your doll from that naughty Fanny. Hurry™ "UP, Tiki, and her voice to him: was a different one, show me the way, But she knew it, you could see it from the playground, the old shack at the end of the crooked path through the gorse. She was. soon striding along it, Tiki panting. behind her. The air throbbed with the monotonous drumming of the cicadas, and the sun shone down on the gorse flowers that were like yellow enamel, and the sweet almond scent of them was all about her, until she came to the hard dusty patch of ground in front of the shack. HE old woman sat on a sagging wicker chair in the doorway; clouds of flies crawled on the dirt round her, and on the doorstep, impudent flies with

backs flashing green in the sunlight. They rose in the air lazily and settled down again almost at once. Tiki caught up to Miss Brown as she began to speak to the woman, his grandmother, who looked at her without interest or any emotion. She carn hear-she’s deaf, he said. Miss Brown stood for a moment at a loss, disgusted with: the flies and the smell. Oh-well, you go in and teil Fanny to’ come, she said, and to save trouble, he pushed past the chair and entered the place, knowing quite well that Fanny was not there. The air was hotter inside. He barely troubled to look round the one room. He knew exactly what was there. On the table as usual a half-eaten loaf of bread, and an opened tin of condensed milk thick with flies; melting butter still in its wrapper, and a teapot. Nothing had changed much’ since the day nearly a year ago when his father had brought him there, and Fanny, to his mother because their mother had died. The sickness in his stomach clutched him suddenly and he hurried outside. Well, Miss Brown asked impatiently; he shook his head; suddenly bold, suddenly desperate. Please, he said, I feel sick... Then where, she had begun, but she interrupted herself, annoyed at this attempt to divert her. Sick? I suppose you had too many lollies and ice-creams (continued on page 19)

SHORT STORY (Cont'd) (continued trom page 17) to-day. And she looked round the yard. He tried again. No, all the time, here, and he held his stomach with his two hands. Through her pre-occupation and her hurry and her disgust she tried to be kind. Wefl, you must go and lie down for a while, then you'll be all right; but tell me first where Fanny might be. Hurry-and her hand reached out for his shoulder. He couldn’t bear it; he couldn’t bear to be touched, then, and he moved away, and pointed quickly to the corner of the yard where the branches of a macrocarpa tree came down to the ground. It didn’t matter.... Miss Brown hurried towards the tree, and he followed her. Under the tree Fanny sat back on her heels. She clasped the doll tightly, feeling its body firm and yet soft under her hands; she pressed its face to hers, and the cheeks felt smooth and cold against her hot ones; she kissed the | red lips that were slightly parted. The curved arms with their chubby fingers fitted snugly round her neck, as if they clasped her too. She spoke softly to it. Lovely baby; lovely little baby; lovely little Jesus baby. The branches were swept aside, and Miss Brown was looking at her. Miss BROWN snatched the doll -- and she looked at Fanny with her ahger mounting. Wicked little girl, she said severely, wicked little thief; and Fanny stared back at her, not lowering her eyes as of course she should have done, not crying so that, showing repentance, she could be ‘forgiven. Just. impudent, and bold, and hard. Really deserving anything one could say to her, thought Miss Brown, and she hurried out quickly, quite upset, brushing past Tiki, away past the\old woman and the ear Fanny glared at Tiki who had given her away, and she thrust hard at him, so that he fell to the ground; he didn’t get up, or look at her; he put his arm across his eyes, and she knew with contempt that he was crying. She hated him,. because he didn’t get up and chase her, round and round the yard, through the gorse, splashing in the stream; for-. getting their quarrel, and catching tiny fish with the water slipping cool through their hands; climbing the trees; quarrelling again, and making it up again, half-a-dozén times through the hot days, as they used to. do-she kicked him hard, twice, and ran out, across the yard, to creep into the gorse, and hide. Miss Brown’s head and_ shoulders glided rapidly above the gorse as she followéd the track; she looked at her watch, and walked more slowly; it wasn’t so late after all. There would be plenty of time. For a bath as well as everything else-and didn’t she need it, after even being near that dirty place-how people could bear to live like that. With a sudden glow she remembered the holidays; the train journey; she loved the train. Her mind resumed the old familiar eager dreams which were never long out of it. She sat by the window, and put all her things neatly where they should be, and ‘suddenly a tall handsome man was standing beside her. Is this seat taken? and with just the right Amount of reserve she said, I don’t think so; and with the right amount of deference he said, Do you mind, and (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page). she said Not-at all. . . . She had forgotter! Fafiny, and Tiki, and was ‘absorbed in the importance of her own life above all others, It might happen another way-at a dance, he would be there,, not taking his eyes off her, choosing *het before all others-or perhaps he would ‘be in church, where she sang in the choir... . SHE remembered the doll that she car- ‘, Yied under one arm. She held it up looked closely at it. Thank goodness a fie. dirty hands hadn’t soiled it it all, "She. held it instinctively ag’she ould "haye’held a baby, and all at once ‘was. conscious of a feeling of desolate loss, a hunger .-. . . and. all round her she felt the words, Twenty-eight, twentyeight, twenty-eight, and So plain, so plain. She tried to ignore them. Why did twenty-eight sound _s6 , much, so much oldef.than "‘Twenty-' eight-like 4 heavysstone sinking to the bottom of a lonely pool. The doll-what was it that horrid little Fanny had called it, the Jesus-doll? -looked, back at her with empty blue eyes, oblivious, and for one moment of queer fancy she thought of it as indeed that Person, and in a way oblivious to the hopes and fears, the desires and tragedies and failures of all of them. She walked on quickly, and took herself ~ to task for being morbid and _ sillyit must be the heat, and as she reached the playground she had quite got over it, and was humming softly to herself; T think, when I read that sweet story’ of old, when Jesus was here among. meen. 5