Dolly

A sticky-sweet aroma from a new air freshener made the car’s interior seem like a low-rent nail salon, both acrid and artificial—the way an eleven-year-old girl would smell if she were given fifteen dollars and free rein at a fragrance kiosk in the mall. It did its job, though, masking odd and somewhat hidden odors from bygone days. This particular air freshener had been the first within reach at the gas station checkout, and the promise on the cellophane wrapper of morning rain was a total misnomer. Instead, it came across as tarnished and its bitterness filled the sedan’s small cabin, blanketing a man and his daughter cruising along the highway.

They had been on the road for about three hours before passing a familiar green sign that read Sisters 8 miles, when the small child in the backseat let out a melodic falsetto question.

“Are we there yet, Daddy?” she asked, never looking at the driver, but continuing instead to stroke the hair of her toy doll.

This was the third time she had asked since starting the journey, and Colin had tried to distract his daughter from the tedium with travel games and reminders that Dolly — with its dark strands of plastic hair, knotted and sprawled about like caramelized spun sugar — could use some extra attention.

“Not much longer now, Esther,” he told her. “The turnoff is about two miles away, and then it’s a few more minutes beyond that.”

Colin glanced repeatedly in the rearview mirror but found it devoid of any other vehicles. This stretch of highway, absent of early morning travelers most days, was also a notorious speed trap, and he could not risk getting stopped.

“Who are you looking for?” Esther asked. The girl’s reflection stared back at him in the mirror through squinted, weary eyes.

“Nobody really. I’m making sure the road\'s safe for us to be on,” Colin said.

“My teacher says that her father was a limousine driver and that he had to be extra careful when he would drive the great big limo car.” She continued to work at the Gordian Knot of kinked strands atop Dolly’s head. \"She said he drove people around until the day he died.\" Thinking about that for a moment, she added, \"Does that mean that he died in his limo, Daddy?”

\"What? No, I think what she meant was that he worked as long as he could, before he passed away. I think your teacher meant that he never retired,\" Colin said.

There was a sudden and uncomfortable silence. Esther’s smiling face had been replaced by a stern glare.

“You\'re not supposed to say that word, Daddy.”

“What word is that?”

“Retired.” Esther squeezed the doll to her own cheek. “Mrs. Daniels gave two boys timeout for calling Nicholas retired. Mrs. Daniels says that Nicholas is special, and we aren\'t supposed to use that other word.\"

\"I think you mean…\" he paused, thinking the better of it for a moment. \"No, you\'re right, Sweetie. Sorry. I won\'t use that word anymore.\" He nodded at Esther and then set his eyes back on the road.

A few minutes later, he slowed for their unmarked turnoff on the near side of a moderate s-curve. Despite having made several trips to this spot during the last year, the turn always seemed to surprise him. He slowed as best he could as they exited the asphalt, but the car still took to a light skid as it moved from the reddened lava rock shoulder through a handful of pitted dirt voids before finding the well-defined ruts of the unnamed service road.

\"It\'s going to be a little bumpy for a while. Better tell Dolly to hold on,\" he told her.

The girl took the doll and tucked it beneath the lap belt on the inside edge, near the buckle. She gave the doll\'s small hand a gentle squeeze.

\"It\'s okay Esther. We\'ve been up here before. It\'s only like this for a little bit.\"

The pitted road punctuated the cadence of their speech and jostled them from side to side.

“Remember the first...time we came...up...here? We were...with your mother. She loved...it here,” he said.

\"I...miss...her. Dolly...misses…her too,\" Esther said.

This was followed by a wild-eyed giggle that only young children, perched on the thin edge between glee and fear, can deliver. They cleared the last of the ruts as the road smoothed into worn, packed dirt.

\"I know you do sweetie. No one can ever replace her. We both know that. I thought your mother and me would be together forever. I\'ve tried to find someone who would be good. Good for the both of us, but it\'s hard to meet the right person these days. I thought I was close once or twice,\" Colin said.

\"What about Marie?\" Esther asked.

\"It could have been that way with Marie. She was pretty and fun and made the best French toast you, or I have ever tasted, but there was something missing. It’s hard to describe, but your mother and I had…a spark, and I’m looking for that feeling again with someone new.\"

\"And Marie didn\'t sparkle?\"

\"No, Marie did not sparkle.\"

\"Why not? I liked her laugh, and she read stories and braided my hair.\"

\"It takes a lot to fall in love, especially after having loved someone like your mother. You know who also agrees with me that Marie wasn’t the one?”

“Who?”

“Dolly. She’s quite picky, you know.”

They both laughed at the idea of her doll having an opinion on the matter as the car slowed to a stop in front of a makeshift barricade on the side of the road. Colin got out and cleared two crisscrossed logs concealing a long-forgotten Bureau of Land Management fork road. He hopped back in and pulled the car over the lip and onto the forked road, with a crinkle of pine needles beneath the wheels. He stopped again after several feet, got out, and replaced the logs. When he got back to the car, he noticed that Esther was in the front seat with her window down.

“About two minutes away,” he said as he got back behind the wheel.

Short, tufted grass littered the dry ground beneath the mature ponderosa pines which shot upward along this final leg of their journey. The grass was a byproduct of a blaze that ripped through this section of forest about a year ago. The fire started, as most of them do, from a lightning strike during a summer storm. The remote location slowed both the discovery of the fire and the local response to extinguish it. During the fire, the scaly, orange-brown bark of the giant ponderosas fell to the forest floor to protect the tree trunks and lessen the fire’s spread. It was Mother Nature’s method of self-preservation.

Colin rolled down his window to take in the forest air. Esther stuck her head out of the passenger window and howled like a wolf.

\"We’re here,\" Esther squealed.

An opening in the forest was littered with sunlight that poked through the trees and splayed shadows across the ground. As far as Colin knew, he and Esther were the only ones that still visited this spot.

The vehicle came to a stop, and he shut off the engine. Before he got out of the car, he took a deep breath and told her to stay in her seat, shut the door behind him with a quiet click before walking to the middle of the clearing, and looked around and listened for a minute, assuring himself there would be no hikers or fishermen bumbling through the area. He walked back to the passenger side of the car.

“Are you ready for our picnic?” he asked.

\"Yes, Daddy. Dolly was telling me how she wants to have movie night when we get home — just the three of us. Can we do that, Daddy, can we?\"

“Only if you make the popcorn. Now stay in the car for another minute while I get some things out of the trunk,” he said before leaning over and kissing her forehead.

He popped the trunk with his key fob and adjusted a few things before removing a blanket and a large, insulated lunch bag. He lingered at the trunk and looked at his watch before closing the lid. Colin told Esther she could now get out of the car and pointed her toward a knoll about sixty feet away. He met her there and spread the blanket out and covered it with their small feast.

The two of them ate their lunches in silence, hungry from the long drive, but the quiet soon turned to silliness and laughter. Colin poured them both some fruit punch from a thermos, but only pretended to drink as he brought his cup to his lips. He watched as she tipped her own cup high and finished the last of the sugary drink.

He glanced at his watch again. His timing had gotten better with each of these trips, and he wanted to get the next part over with as soon as possible.

They talked for a few minutes about school and what they should do over summer break before Esther let out a long yawn and told Colin she was getting sleepy.

“You can lie down for a few minutes while I clean up, okay?”

She went flat on her back and looked at the sun streaming through the treetops as she drifted off, with Dolly clutched to her chest.

Returning to the car, he opened the trunk once more. Inside, Marie was still unconscious. She was groaning and stirred as the same sedative he had given his daughter wore off. Colin looked at her and wondered what might have been if she had only “sparkled” as Esther had suggested. He pulled her out of the trunk and hoisted her limp body over his shoulder. He carried Marie over the uneven ground toward the blanket, where he positioned her with the greatest of care next to his daughter.

Colin sat on his knees between Marie and Esther. He massaged Marie’s cheek with the back of his hand, and she muttered something he could not decipher. She would be awake in a matter of minutes. Colin felt a sense of macabre pride, knowing that he had perfected the adult dosage as well, so much so that not even the rutted service road woke Marie up. He wanted this to be perfect — and it would be. Perfect for Esther. Perfect for Marie. Perfect for Dolly.

Colin removed a small penknife from his pocket, flicked open the blade, and without any hesitation pierced his left thumb. He milked the wound until he saw blood well up, then smeared some of it onto one of Dolly’s button eyes, then the other. Now certain everything was ready, Colin stood and walked backward toward the car, keeping a close watch on the blanket. About halfway to the car, he stumbled on a rock and fell to the ground. He scoffed at himself, looked back at the blanket, and thought he saw something moving.

There was no time to waste and rather than stand back up, he scooted himself backward, stirring a cloud of dirt that obscured the trio on the blanket. He hit the bumper with the back of his head and winced before retrieving the key fob from his pocket before popping the trunk and climbed in. As he lowered the lid to seal himself inside, he noticed Dolly and Esther were now missing. He scanned the area through the narrow gap in the nearly closed trunk lid. There was Marie, starting to stir, but his daughter and Dolly were nowhere to be seen.

“Where did they go?” Colin asked himself.

The forest went silent for a moment and Colin expanded the trunk opening to gain a better view when an immense force slammed the lid closed, sending him into total darkness.

“It’s okay Daddy. We’re right here,” Esther said. The words from his daughter were bright and clear but running beneath and beside those words was a second voice that was not her own. This other voice was cold and indifferent. It was a voice Colin had heard two other times before today, and knew it belonged to the entity that inhabited his daughter’s beloved toy.

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry. I thought we wouldn’t have to do this again,” Colin said through the trunk. “I wanted Marie to be the one. I wanted to release you from all of this.”

“We’ll take care of it. We like helping Daddy,” Esther and Dolly said as one. They repeated this several times and the duet of voices faded as Esther went back toward the blanket.

Colin sobbed, curled up tight inside the trunk, and covered his ears.

Marie opened her eyes, sat up, and rubbed her forehead. She could not explain why she felt like she was nursing a bad hangover because the last thing she remembered was having breakfast with Colin at her place. She had a strange taste in her mouth that reminded her of the coffee Colin had brought her. Waking up in the woods made matters even more confusing.

Marie tried to blink the fogginess away and saw a small figure nearby swaying and humming a tune she could not quite place. She clutched a doll in one hand. A doll she recognized. As Marie regained more of her senses, she knew the figure to be her boyfriend’s daughter.

“Esther?” she asked.

Esther snapped still but continued her tune.

“Esther, where are we? And where is your dad?” Marie asked, standing with her hands out, trying to steady herself. She found her footing and walked over to the girl, who stopped humming and dropped the doll face down in the dirt.

Marie instinctively bent onto one knee to get Dolly and when she picked it up, she noticed something different about the cloth toy. Where Marie expected to see a simple face made of thread and buttons, she saw a blank one. Marie recoiled from the oddity and tossed Dolly aside.

“Esther, what’s going on?” Marie said, reaching out and turning the girl around by the shoulder.

Marie screamed as the girl faced her.

This was no longer the Esther that Marie knew and cared for. What now stood before her was a monstrosity. Everything about the girl seemed the same. Her clothing, her build, her knocked knees were all as Marie expected to see…until she looked at the girl’s face.

Esther’s eyes had been replaced with the polished black buttons from Dolly’s face. The buttonholes looked as if they had been sewn into the girl’s eye sockets, but no blood seeped from beneath them. Esther’s mouth was pinched closed under black yarn stitching that pierced her skin above and below her thin lips. The yarn had a snakelike quality and seemed to move on its own, slithering through the piercings. The thread tightened and puckered Esther’s lips at odd intervals in between stitches, then relaxed to let her speak.

“You could have been the one,” Esther-Dolly said in unison.

Marie was frozen in fear, unable to take her eyes off the strange hybrid creature that stood before her.

“Stop it Esther,” Marie said, tears pouring from her eyes.

“It’s too late,” Esther-Dolly said, bending down, plucking the limp and lifeless toy from the ground. Esther ripped open the doll’s torso and exposed the internal batting which erupted onto Marie. It poured out in waves, more material than a simple toy could possibly hold.

Marie tried to stand and run, but was tripped by the batting, which was now spinning itself around her legs, and tore at the ground, gaining, but a few inches as the stuffing tightened around her. She rolled onto her back and tore at the material, but it quickly enveloped her hands like mittens.

She writhed and bucked beneath the spreading strands, but her efforts were no match for the sheer strength of the batting. Marie could feel the tendrils sneak beneath her body. They were lifting Marie off the ground and manipulating her like a spider wrapping prey in silk, turning and aligning her.

“Wait,” Esther-Dolly said.

The batting held short, under the control of the creature that Marie once knew to be a sweet girl who loved coloring and swinging at the park.

“Please Esther, don’t do this,” Marie said.

“It’s not up to Esther,” they said. “This was your doing. You just needed to sparkle.”

Marie looked at the sky for what she knew would be the last time and searched for a final moment of sanity. She whispered, “Someone, please help me.”

Then with a nod, Esther-Dolly willed the batting to resume its course, covering Marie’s face and tightening on her flesh. Marie’s eyes bulged beneath the threadlike veil as she spasmed in the dirt and let out a final scream as her bones were pulverized. A moment later she was still.

The girl staggered away and crumpled to the ground.

The cocoon that now held the lifeless body of Colin’s latest girlfriend continued to tighten around Marie’s corpse cutting into and through clothing, soft tissue, tendon, and bone fragments until there was nothing left but a sac of bodily fluid and detritus. The same tendrils that aided in wrapping Marie now began to claw at the ground sending up a cloud of dust. The mass sank lower and lower into the earthen grave. When the hole was deep enough the batting swept the loose dirt back onto itself, burying it and the remains of what had once been Marie.

The strands of batting, saturated in Marie’s blood, wriggled out, a thousand parasitic worms stretching blindly upward. Then the strands slithered toward the doll carcass and repacked themselves back inside Dolly until she was replenished and whole again. Two button eyes emerged from within the doll’s head, and a smile made of thread restitched itself across Dolly’s face.

After several minutes of quiet, Colin knew it was over and popped the trunk. He was bawling as he climbed out and vomited on the rear bumper. He wiped his mouth with the back of a trembling hand and tried to spit the taste of bile out of his mouth. Colin looked around and saw his daughter on the ground. She was not moving. He rushed to her side and lifted her into his arms.

“Esther, can you hear me?”

Esther opened her eyes — her beautiful brown eyes — and looked at her father.

“I think I fell asleep Daddy.”

“I think so, kiddo,” Colin said with fresh tears welling up.

After rocking his baby girl in his arms, he told her to collect Dolly and help him gather the picnic supplies. A few minutes later they were set to leave.

“Are you ready to head home?” he asked, buckling her in.

“Ready spaghetti.”

“Let’s get back to town. You know, Mrs. Everett is supposed to come over on Saturday to watch you,” Colin said. “I have a date.”

“With Marie?”

“No, sweetie, with a new person. Remember, Marie and I broke up, and I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again.”

“Okay, Daddy, but make sure this one has all the sparkles.”

“I hope she does, Esther, for all our sakes.”

About the Author

Scott Burwash (he/him) is a writer of poetry and prose with previous work appearing in Midnight Masquerade and Apeiron Review. You can find him on Instagram and Bluesky (@scottburwash).