Return to Doll Island

by Ocean

  She stood beside Rosie and still had one hand behind her back. A mischievous grin curved her lips. It was an expression Rosie had grown to love.

  “Um, what’s behind your back? I recognize that look, and whenever I see it, it means you’re up to something?”

  “What? Me? Up to something?” Devin pressed the palm of her free hand against her chest. “Nah.”

  The laugh that followed was contagious. Rosie couldn’t help but join in her exuberance.

  “Yes. You. Fess up. What’s behind the back?”

  “Well…I bid on a few things at the auction, didn’t win them all. I did win a ski trip to a chalet in Colorado for us this winter. I thought that’d be fun.”

  “You know I don’t ski,” Rosie said.

  “There’s a first time for everything. And besides, even if we don’t ski, we can snowshoe, cross country ski, or simply cuddle in front of the fireplace. I’m good with that.”

  “Fair enough,” Rosie leaned to the side in an attempt to see what Devin was hiding.

  “Uh-uh. No peeking.”

  Devin turned her body to block Rosie from seeing what she kept from her.

  “Okay, fine. Then I’ll go first.”

  Rosie placed her coffee cup back on the table, leaned down and pulled a box out from beneath her chair. It was beautifully wrapped, complete with a large, colorful bow. A card was neatly tucked inside the ribbon.

  “Here.” She handed the box to Devin.

  “A present? For me? Why?”

  Devin turned her back to Rosie and shoved whatever she’d been holding, up the front of her shirt. She spun back around and took the box from Rosie.

  “Go ahead, open it,” Rosie said.

  First, Devin opened the card. There was a photo of two women, walking the beach, hand in hand with a big heart drawn in the sand. She read out loud what Rosie had written.

  “One year ago today you tumbled into my life, and although the first few days were a little challenging, to say the least, it turned out to be the best day of my life. We love you, Rosie and Itchy.”

  “I thought we should celebrate that it was one year ago today we met on the boat,” Rosie said.

  Devin’s smile widened. She placed the card on the table, held the box in one hand, and with the other, softly cradled Rosie’s chin, guiding it to her own face until their lips met.

  “The best day of your life, huh? And the wisest thing you ever did, saying yes you’d go on a picnic with me?”

  “Ha!” Rosie gave her a playful push. “I didn’t exactly say yes. You practically kidnapped me. And, we both know how that turned out. But yes, eventually, it all turned out okay, didn’t it? Go ahead, open the box.”

  Devin ripped off the paper and pulled the top of the box off. She lifted up a pair of blue jean overalls.

  “Overalls! Oh, my goodness. You remembered your promise!”

  “Of course, I remembered. Look at the back.”

  Devin turned them around. Embroidered on the back pocket was a tiny devil’s tail.

  “Devin’s Devil’s logo? I love it!” Devin held them up against her body. “They’re perfect!”

  “I called and talked with the girls in the shop. They had them made specially for you.”

  “This is going to be a new line. I’m starting production right away,” Devin said. “Thank you, honey. I love them!”

  She placed the overalls down and reached up under her shirt.

  “Did you think I’d forget such a special day?” she asked as she pulled out a package, wrapped in a plain brown paper bag.

  “Beside the ski trip, there was something else I bid on that I really wanted for us, for you. The bidding was fierce. This other chick also wanted the item, so it was quite a nasty auction, but ultimately, I won. Of course.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?" Rosie played with Itchy’s ears.

  Devin pulled the bag away and, in her hands, she cradled a box. It was the size of a small shoebox and was intricately decorated with flashes of red velvet trim and gold gilded decorations.

  “Ooh, pretty box.”

  Rosie reached forward to touch it.

  “It’s not the box that’s special.” Devin flashed that ‘I’m-up-to-something’ smile again and winked. “It’s what’s in it.”

  Rosie clasped her hands together.

  “Well, open it. What’s in it?”

  Devin knelt on one knee and leaned in closer to Rosie. Her eyes twinkled as with one hand she held the bottom of the box and with the other, slowly lifted the lid.

  Rosie’s heart pounded. A surge of excitement flooded every nerve in her body and tingles raced over the surface of her skin. A warmth flushed over her cheeks.

  As light reached the dark shadow inside the box, the contents slowly came into view.

  For a moment, Rosie didn’t move. She was stunned. It was as if time stood still and everything in the world disappeared except for what she now stared at that was inside the box. It seemed as if her breathing and heartbeat had stopped. She felt the expression of eager anticipation that had decorated her face, fall away, replaced by shock.

  Staring back at her from inside the box were two sets of small eyes. The eyes belong to two petite dolls.

  The dolls lay neatly on a piece of burgundy velour. They were about six inches tall and elegantly dressed in extraordinarily detailed finery, like you might see a foreign dignitary wear. Brightly colored silk covered their heads and bodies. Tiny, exact replicas of leather shoes were on their feet. Their skin was two different shades of brown. One’s eyes were the color of dark chocolate, the other’s, a lighter, more golden brown. Both doll’s lips were precisely painted into an upward smirk.

  Rosie's heart rate spiked, and she pushed herself backward, away from Devin and the dolls. Itchy awoke and jumped down when the legs she’d been sleeping on suddenly disappeared from beneath her. Rosie pressed her back against the wall.

  “Devin!” Her voice was raspy. “What are you doing? Get them away from me!”

  The smile Devin had been wearing when she presented the dolls dropped away. She placed the box on the table and reached for Rosie.

  “Honey, they’re just dolls.”

  Rosie pushed Devin’s hand away. She couldn’t take her eyes off them. It was as if they’d hypnotized her.

  “Get them away from me! If this is your idea of a joke, it is so not funny.”

  Devin rested her hands on Rosie’s arm.

  “Honey, no joke. Come here. I’ll explain.”

  Rosie allowed herself to be pried from against the wall. Devin sat beside her on the divan and curled an arm around her shoulder. She kissed her temple and with her other hand, stroked Rosie’s hair.

  “Rosie. What we went through was traumatizing.”

  “No shit,” Rosie said.

  “It’s been a year. I think it’s time we work on healing and getting over it. These are dolls. That’s it, just dolls.”

  “But–”

  Devin placed a finger against Rosie’s lips.

  “No buts. Just dolls.”

  Rosie playfully bit the tip of Devin’s finger.

  “Devin. I don’t want any dolls in our home.”

  “But look at them,” Devin pointed toward the box. “Not only are they cute, but they’re antique and unique. They come from a royal African family’s private collection. Each one was handmade especially for the daughter of the King back in the 1800’s. Look at the detail. It’s amazing.”

  “They need to be amazing somewhere else, not anywhere around me.”

  “You know I’ll always respect your opinion. But would you at least give them a couple days. I really like them, and I think, in a way, it’ll remind us of the journey we’ve been on. Like it or not, what we went through, we went through together, and we survived it. Think about it logically. They’re just plastic and cloth. They can’t hurt us. Let’s make a deal. Would you please try for a few days to see if you get used to them? If, after a while, they’re still both
ering you, I’ll get rid of them. Deal?”

  Rosie stared at the dolls. She felt as if they stared back at her, as a precocious child might, as if daring her to say no.

  Am I crazy? Crazy to think they could harm me or crazy to consider having them anywhere near me?

  Devin gently pinched Rosie’s chin and turned her head away from facing the dolls toward herself.

  “Please?”

  Her voice and eyes were both gentle. Rosie felt her shoulders relax.

  She poked Devin in the chest.

  “Damn it, Devin. You are a devil, aren’t you?”

  Devin shrugged.

  “Maybe? Pretty Please?”

  “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to you when you ask me nice like that."

  Rosie leaned forward and kissed Devin’s forehead.

  Devin ran a thumb along the side of Rosie’s face.

  “Thanks honey.” She pointed toward the folded-up newspaper. “Hey, was there anything in the paper about the movie?”

  “Oh, yes, there was. Let me read it to you.” Rosie reached for the paper. “I’ll find the article while you get them….” She flipped a hand toward the dolls. “Away from me.”

  Devin chuckled before picking up the box and placing it on the side table next to Rosie’s knitting yarn and needles.

  “Oh no,” Rosie said, “that’s too close. They need to be farther away from me.”

  Devin removed each doll from the box and crossed the room. She studied them as she walked toward the kitchen.

  “These really are awesome. I think you’ll grow to love them.” She raised her voice so Rosie could hear her from the other room, then leaned around the doorjamb, peered back toward Rosie, and added, “in time.” Rosie watched from the other room as Devin reached up and moved two of Rosie’s decorative tea pots and carefully placed the dolls on the shelf beside each other.

  “How’s that?” she yelled over her shoulder.

  Rosie cast a suspicious glance in the direction of the kitchen.

  “It’ll do for now.”

  She folded the newspaper so the article she was about to read was centered.

  “Why don’t you just read the paper digitally?” Devin asked as she sat back beside Rosie. Itchy pawed the side of Devin’s leg. She reached down, scooped her up with one hand, and cradled the dog to her chest.

  “I’m old-fashioned,” Rosie said. “I like holding the Sunday paper. There’s a certain kind of nostalgic charm to it.”

  “Whatever makes you happy, dear.”

  Devin scratched behind Itchy’s ears.

  “Okay, here you go. Review of ‘The Devil’s Tale. Devin Fitzroy, daughter of famed film maker Frederick Fitz–”

  “I hate it when they label me like that. Why can’t they just recognize me for me, and not as my father’s daughter?”

  Rosie continued.

  “Daughter of famed film maker Frederick Fitzroy and owner of the infamous The Devil’s Tail line of clothing, has hit a home run with her break out movie, The Devil’s Tale. The Devil’s Tale relates a fascinating account of good vs. evil from the Devil’s perspective and continues its blockbuster trend, scorching box offices. As if Satan himself lit ticket sales on fire, we predict no end in sight for the hot success of this young, up and coming movie producer.”

  Rosie lowered the paper.

  “You did it, honey. People love your work. I’m so proud of you.”

  “No. We did it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Me? I didn’t help with the movie.”

  Devin took both of Rosie’s hands into her own and gently squeezed them.

  “You helped with my life. You helped me to grow into the woman I am today. I was so immature, selfish before and didn’t realize it. It wasn’t until I cared for you, really cared, that I learned that other people’s feelings are more important than my own. I’ll always appreciate and be grateful for that lesson. It’s made me a better person.”

  “You were always a better person.” Rosie played with Devin’s fingers. “It was just, oh, let’s just say, hidden.”

  “Hidden?”

  “Yeah. Hidden. Now the best part of you is out, for the world to see.”

  “Well, if the better part of me is out, it’s because of you. You bring it out in me.”

  “It shows in everything you do, Devin. Your work with the shelter. Your movie. I still can’t believe you made a movie in a year. Isn’t that extraordinary? I always thought it took years.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Usually it does take longer. But having your dad own a studio does help.”

  Rosie studied Devin’s hands. She traced the knuckles, the lines of blue veins that snaked over Devin’s wide wrists, the creases that crisscrossed her palms. She’d grown to love these hands.

  She released a sigh.

  “What is it?” Devin asked.

  “What is what?” Rosie said.

  “You suddenly got so quiet. Is something the matter?”

  Devin reached up and massaged the back of Rosie’s neck.

  “No, nothing the matter, but there is something.”

  “Something? What something?” Devin laughed “Are you going to make me play twenty questions?”

  “Honey?”

  “Yes, sweet pea?”

  Devin’s lips had twisted into a that cute smirk. The one Rosie couldn’t resist. She reached up and traced Devin’s lips with the tip of her finger.

  “Are you ready to talk about it yet? You know?”

  Devin inhaled deeply then slowly let it out. She regrasped Rosie’s hand that had been playing with her lips.

  “Yeah, I know.” She kissed the inside of Rosie’s wrists. “You want to know what he said to me, don’t you?”

  Rosie nodded.

  “I understand. And I appreciate you being patient with me. It’s not exactly an easy thing to explain.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Devin’s lips tightened into a straight line.

  “When it happened,” Rosie said, “you’d said you’d made a deal with him. That’s a little scary. I mean, what kind of deal did you make exactly? You can’t blame me for wanting to know. We’ve been together for a year and I…”

  “No. I don’t blame you. You’re right. You have a right to know.”

  Their fingers had intertwined, and Devin’s gaze was fixed on their conjoined hands while her thumb moved over Rosie’s knuckles.

  “Okay. I’ll tell you what happened when I spent the day with the Devil.”

  Epilogue Cont.

  Sympathy for…The Devil?

  Devin began talking.

  “First, we walked. Through the woods. It was odd, I mean we walked just as if I were walking with another person, but there he was, Satan. Walking beside me.”

  “I was nervous, as you can imagine. I didn’t know why he wanted me. Couldn’t figure out what I’d done. Truly, I thought it was the end. That I’d never see you again. That this is how your life ended if you weren’t good. I thought, maybe I’d been not kind enough to my past girlfriends. And of course, that whole thing about my brother. I still feel horribly guilty about that.”

  “Was that it?” Rosie asked. “Did he blame you for your brother’s death?”

  Devin shook her head.

  “Nope. In fact, he told me to stop feeling guilty about it. That it wasn’t my fault. That what I’d done had not been intentional, so it wasn’t evil. It was an accident. I was an innocent child and not able to make the right choices and decisions at that age. That the man, Clownie, who’d harmed my brother was the evil one, and that he was the one that would be punished.”

  Rosie squeezed Devin’s hands.

  “Oh, honey. I’m so glad he told you that.”

  “Yeah, it was a huge relief, as if someone took a humongous weight off my shoulders. He also told me that my brother had come back and was alive and happy.”

  “Really, like reincarnated?”

  Devin nodded.

  “And that
at some point, I’d bump into him. I won’t know it’s him, but I’ll get an unexplainable good feeling from someone and that’ll be because, it’s my brother. That gave me comfort too.”

  Her face lit up.

  “So anyway, he did most of the talking. I’d ask a question now and then, but mostly, he talked, and I listened. He told me he wanted me to tell his story.”

  “The Devil’s Tale?” Rosie asked.

  “Exactly. The Devil’s Tale. He wanted people to know that it’s his job to punish people who are evil, but that it’s not about the punishment, as in ‘burn in hell for eternity’ like so many believe. It’s more about the correction, the learning, to give people another chance to get it right.”

  “But, do people really go to hell?”

  Devin nodded.

  “How do you know, for sure?”

  Devin grew quiet and avoided her gaze. When she looked back at Rosie, she said, “Because he took me there and showed me.”

  Rosie bolted upright. She felt the muscles in her face go limp as her lower jaw dropped.

  “He took you where, there?”

  Devin’s head moved up then down.

  “There? As in hell?”

  Another nod.

  “You saw it with your own eyes?”

  Again, a nod.

  “Were people, um, burning and on fire?”

  “No, not burning and on fire. It was hot, yes, but the torture was more psychological, no spiritual, I guess is the right word. They were definitely tortured. You could see it in their faces. But it wasn’t physical. It was more about regrets. That’s probably a good word. Regrets. They begged for another chance to do it over and try again.”

  “And does he give it to them? Another chance?”

  “Yes. Yes, he does.”

  “So, it’s just like your movie? The Devil’s Tale?”

  “Yes. That was the deal. I make a movie that tells his side of the story. He said that every year, he’s getting more and more people than he ever has. That traits like kindness, compassion, empathy are giving way to meanness, greed, anger. Negative emotions and actions that hurt other people and animals. He says humankind is on the wrong path. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The human population was supposed to improve with each generation, each year, help the planet, help animals, each other, but instead…” Her voice trailed off.