Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch

by Stefano Pastor

  «It must look like me. I want it to be like me».

  She did not understand, or did not want to understand. «I don’t think I can…».

  «I need it, you have to do it».

  Under the coldness of her voice I perceived despair. I asked myself what she needed it for. It wasn’t for her daughter, no, I doubted that this kind of woman could have children. Or perhaps she had a daughter and had lost her, and that doll has to replace her. Whatever the reason that pushed her, however, that woman stirred me.

  «I will not accept a negative answer», she added.

  Could I do that? Certainly I was able to do it, even though it annoyed me to please her.

  «I’ll have to study the measures carefully», I said.

  Even in victory, the woman continued to be impassive. «I want her tall, and lean, just like me. Even the hair must be black, like mine…».

  It took me three weeks.

  I was impressed by my work: she really looked like a little girl. She was not dressed like a doll, the woman had brought me the clothes she had to wear, and they were as expensive and stylish as the woman’s.

  She was tall and slim, with long black hair and green eyes, just as she had asked me. Her lips were rosy and fleshy.

  The woman came to pick her up after two days, almost at the closing time of the store, when the darkness had already wrapped the city.

  She studied it for a long time, turning around, to the point that even my proverbial patience came to an end. «Then? Is that what you wanted?».

  She did not give me the satisfaction to answer, pulled out a roll of money from the microscopic handbag and paid. Then she took the doll by hand, she must have been thinking she would follow her with her legs.

  I perceived something pathological, unpleasant. At the same time, I felt sorry for her, because it was clear that she had suffered, and was still suffering now. The doll was special for her, she should have replaced someone who was gone.

  I tried to bring her back to reality. «Do you want me to wrap her?».

  I saw her confused, for the first time. Then she shook her head and lifted the doll from the waist as if she were a suitcase.

  She did not answer my greetings and went away.

  The story could have ended there, if a couple of months later I did not find myself walking the streets in center town. I was immersed in my thoughts when I raised my eyes and found myself in front of them: the woman and the little girl.

  There were two mannequins, in a beautiful display in a shop window. The bigger one looked exactly like the woman who came to my shop. She also wore the same outfit. She held a little girl in her hand, which was indisputably the doll I had made. She even had the clothes I put on.

  I looked at the sign: it was Scallis’, one of the most exclusive boutiques in the city.

  I stayed for a long time to fix the two dummies, increasingly disconcerting. I found it unpleasant, not to say disgusting, that my doll was on display in the eyes of everyone. I had always put all my love in building them, and in love they would have to live. The love of a little girl who would have filled her with attention.

  I would never have done it if I only suspected what its use would be.

  It was indignation to push me into the shop.

  It was not a place where I could feel comfortable. The two shop assistants seemed model themselves, in their elegant clothes.

  They weighted me, I think, because it was the oldest one of them to come to me.

  «How can I help you?».

  I pointed to the showcase. «That mannequin»

  She smiled. «You have a great taste, sir. An exclusive, unique model in the world».

  At the risk of being pointed as crazy, I had to ask her. «The dummy who wears it… I’m sure I’ve seen it before. It reminds me of someone, someone I met».

  Her reaction surprised me, because she turned to look at her colleague. The other woman nodded almost imperceptibly.

  There was a bit of embarrassment in the woman. «Mrs. Scallis, yes. The owner of the boutique. It was her choice that mannequin. It has been made to measure. She found it funny».

  I had a different feeling about it. «Could I talk to her?».

  Women’s uncertainty was more evident now. «I’m afraid it’s not possible, sir».

  Before I could insist, she continued: «Mrs. Scallis is in America now. She’s on vacation».

  I hid my disappointment. Certainly I could not blame them, they could not understand. So I greeted them with courtesy, and then left, determined to face that woman once she came back from vacation.

  It was a month, and I almost forgot about her when Mrs. Scallis returned to my shop.

  It was more controversial than ever, in a flamboyant spring turquoise dress. This time she had her hair in a croc and a semi-transparent cap.

  She came straight to the counter and went straight to the point. «You have to make me another doll».

  I shook my head, but she did not let me talk. «My daughter wants a little brother, she feels alone».

  Those words confused me. Could it be that I was wrong and that woman really had a daughter? Then I remembered the use she made of my first doll and shook my head.

  «Please, you must help me».

  The closing time had come and tried to take advantage of it and I asked her to leave. I found her presence increasingly annoying. «Tonight I can’t, madam, please come back next time».

  She did not even listen to me. «Must be younger, six or seven years old. And blond, I want blond hair. Can you do it with blue eyes? She likes blue eyes so much».

  I turned around the desk and took her by an arm. «Please, ma’am, it’s too late, I must close the shop».

  She continued to speak as I led her to the door. «You must hurry, she needs it. she asks me continually».

  When I got her out, before closing the door, her voice came again. «Will you do it fast? I’m counting on it. Remember that I’m counting on it».

  Still today I don’t know why, but I did it. Yet the woman never came back after that time and I could have forget everything. Indeed, I had not promised her anything, but I could not resist.

  I put all my love in it, I picked the best material and after a dozen days the baby doll was ready. He was still naked, because I had no dress to make him wear. He looked like a baby, a handsome six-year-old boy with blue eyes and a blond haircut.

  That woman was not normal, I knew that by now. Those mannequins in the shop window concealed something else, a trauma of some kind she tried to live with. Perhaps I was just stoking her obsession, but the despair she displayed in our last meeting made me look at her with more humaneness.

  She came that same evening, bringing the little boy’s dress, with the certainty of finding him ready.

  The gentleness and the love with which she dressed him on one side made me more disturbed, but on the other hand, rewarded me from all the efforts. That doll would have been loved, I was sure.

  She gave me satisfaction. «It’s just what I wanted. You managed to do a miracle».

  I could not hold back. «What do you need it for?».

  She bowed her head, suddenly tired, and her voice weakened. «It’s horrible to be alone, don’t you think?».

  Her mask had fallen, and in the end I could understand her too. Yes, it was not pleasure to live alone. And as the dolls could help me survive, why was it wrong if they could help her too?

  Those deep green eyes seemed to want to penetrate my mind. «I could not continue this way, do you understand?».

  I couldn’t say anything, then she took the doll, this time with tenderness, as if he was a true kid, and went away.

  Two weeks passed before I decided to come back to center town.

  I was not surprised to find three mannequins in the shop window. This time, Mrs. Scallis’s simulacrum held both my dolls in hand. She had changed dress again, now she was wearing a beautiful black dress, with a long skirt to his ankles, and a necklace of diamonds on
her neck.

  I kept looking at that inanimate family, but in the end I could not resist and I went back in the store again.

  The oldest sales woman immediately came towards me. «I would like to see Mrs Scallis», I asked.

  Like the other time, she was uncertain and turned to look at her colleague. In this case, however, the other assistant came to her aid and took over the situation. «I am Mrs. Bassi, I’m in charge of the boutique while Mrs. Scallis is absent. Could I get the message?».

  I shook my head. «I really have to see Mrs. Scallis, it’s a personal matter».

  «Mrs. Scallis is not available now».

  «When should she be back?».

  A shadow passed on her face. She seemed torn. «Do you know her well?», she asked.

  Did I know her well? Maybe yes, maybe even better than them. I knew her torment, her suffering. «I’m her friend», I said.

  This seemed to convince her. «We have no idea where Mrs. Scallis is», she said.

  Now it was my turn to be confused. «Is she gone away again?».

  The woman grimaced. «She never came back. Maybe it is not even gone. We have no idea what happened to her».

  There was no sense in what the woman was saying. «She was on holiday in America, I recall».

  «So we believed, so she had told us, only that she never landed. We’ve been trying to track her for weeks, but nobody has seen her anymore».

  I was getting more and more confused. «But she was here, I met her! How far ago she had disappeared?».

  These words surprised both of them. «Did you see her, really? And when? Was she okay?».

  I become reticent. «Since when she disappeared?».

  Mrs. Bassi bowed her head. «Six months, it’s six months, we have no news».

  It was crazy, she disappeared before she step foot in my shop. Something did not match, I though. I pointed to the shop window. «Those two mannequins, who brought them? What are they doing there?».

  The women looked confused. «Why does that matter now?».

  It was the heart of the whole affair. «Where did they come from? Who put them in the shop window? Who dressed them? Who chose that position?».

  The confusion was total and the women talked to each other. «Was it you, Carla?».

  «No, they were already there, I found them like that, I thought you’d put them in there», replied the colleague.

  Then they came back to me. Mrs. Bassi had understood. «It was Mrs. Scallis, is this what it means? Is she here? But we have never met her, why should she…».

  She was confused, and so was I.

  «Who is Mrs. Scallis? What does she do?».

  I saw the suspect in her eyes. «I thought she was a friend of yours».

  I tried to fix it. «She doesn’t like to talk about her personal life, she’s always reticent».

  Mrs. Bassi sighed. «Poor Mrs. Scallis. Yes, I can understand it».

  «Is she married, does she have children?».

  She shook her head. «No, she doesn’t have children, she had no time. She remained alone too soon. She lost her husband right after the wedding».

  «She loved him a great deal», the other sales assistant added.

  «She has closed in herself», recalled Mrs Bassi. «We told her to go outside, to have fun, to forget. To return to life, basically».

  «Such a beautiful woman», she continued. «She was a famous model, you know? They all admired her».

  It was not what I had expected, the absence of children, alive or dead, had misguided me.

  Mrs. Bassi approached the shop window and studied the mannequins. «They are not ours», she stated. «Certainly they do not come from our usual supplier».

  This I knew very well.

  She turned. «You’re saying that she brought them here? That she comes here when the store is closed? But why? Why didn’t she gave us any news? Why doesn’t she answer the phone if she has never left?».

  I shook my head, because I did not have an answer. «Do you know where she lives?», I asked.

  The sales women exchanged a strange look.

  «I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing», Mrs. Bassi said again.

  «Did you never come here?».

  «Why should I have?».

  Mrs. Scallis’s house was a bit out of the way, an old chalet in a neoclassical style. The garden had been abandoned for some time.

  «We should not be here», Mrs. Bassi repeated. «I should not have this key either. Mrs. Scallis will get angry when she finds out what we’ve done, she values her privacy».

  «We do it for her own good, she might have felt sick, don’t you think?».

  She did not believe it at all. Actually, the suspicion that Mrs. Scallis was still in town made her only more doubtful.

  «Please», I said.

  My age played in my favor, Mrs. Bassi did not see a danger in me. «Let’s just take a look, just to be sure she is not here. Do not touch anything».

  I reassured her, and finally she turned the key.

  We realized what happened as soon as we walked into the house and a nauseating smell surrounded us. We realized that that was the smell of death.

  We did not go over and we called the police.

  They found her in the bathroom, inside the tub. The water was evaporated all, after all it had been six months after the veins had been cut off.

  She was naked, and of her beauty not much lasted. But this is what they told us, because we were not allowed to see her.

  Mrs. Bassi was too upset to remember me, the strange incongruity of what I had told her, and that was in my favor.

  What had happened was far too obvious, the police interrogated me briefly, then let me go.

  Did I encounter a ghost?

  It was beyond any doubt that she had already died when she came to visit me. Why she had come to me and what the dolls meant to her, it would certainly be a mystery. I tried not to think about it, forget it, because I was afraid that I would have gone mad if I did not.

  That was my purpose, and maybe I would have succeeded if I did not receive an unexpected visit a couple of days later.

  I had just closed the shop late in the evening when they came knocking two kids. I would have ignored anyone else, but I never wanted to disappoint a child. So I opened.

  She was eight years old, with long black hair and beautiful green eyes. The little brother was younger, with a blond hair and two clear blue eyes.

  «What can I do for you?».

  The little girl spoke. «We want a doll».

  I sigh and I stepped aside. «Come in and have a look around».

  They came in, but they did not look to the exposed dolls. Again the little girl spoke. «It’s a special doll. You have to make it».

  Not even this surprised me. «Special how? What do you have in mind?».

  She smiled. «We want a dad».

  I froze, and only then I understood what my mind refused to see. It was not possible. No, it was not possible.

  My voice trembled. «How do you want this dad?».

  They exchanged a look, the kids, then the little girl winked at me. «Just like you, only a lot younger. Do you think you can do it?».

  Could I do that? Could I make that doll for them? They were really two beautiful kids. «Why do you want a dad?».

  «For mom. She suffers, she is always so alone. We are just not enough, you know?».

  The little brother also spoke. «We want to give her this present, so she will be happy».

  It was difficult to keep talking. «Who are you? Where are you from? Who is your mother? And your father?».

  They both laughed amused. «You know!», said the little girl. «You made us! You are our father!».

  The boy continued to laugh. «So stupid!».

  She lowered her voice. «But don’t tell mom, it must be a surprise!».

  Somebody knocked on the glass of the door, making me jump. Ms. Scallis was there, looking at us, more beautiful than ever in her blac
k dress.

  She opened the door and came in. «Here you are, kids. Do not disturb the gentleman». Then he smiled at me. «We don’t want to distract him from his job».

  The kids went back to giggle. The little girl took my hand and forced me to bend over. She kissed me on a cheek and whispered: «Remember!».

  Then I saw them go, all three, holding hands. They were wonderful, a perfect family.

  I started building the doll.

  Children. Children that Mrs. Scallis couldn’t have. Children that me and Rosa have been waiting for in vain for a lifetime. Children who can fill a loneliness. Children who were only conceived by love. The love I put into each of the dolls I build, the love with which Mrs. Scallis was waiting for them.

  Our children.

  She doesn’t know, it must be a surprise, the kids have been clear.

  In this doll I put the best of me. I put what I wanted to be but I was not. I put in my whole soul.

  I hope they remember to bring a dress for me too.

  What will happen next when I’ll finish the doll? What shall I do? Will I go to the bathroom and cut my veins as well? Will it be painful? How is death, what is it?

  What sensation will I try to look at the world from a window? To be observed, admired? Mrs. Scallis has always done it, and she obviously likes it. This is what she wished, alone in that bathroom, while life was flowing like blood from the veins: be that mannequin. But then it was not enough for her, even that couldn’t defeat loneliness.

  I’ll get used to it, the important thing is to be close to my family.

  I can not wait to finish this doll.

  My last doll.

  October 2010

  DURGA’S TEARS

  Translation by Alfio Loreto

  I couldn’t turn the handle, I froze.

  There was a recurring nightmare, and it was always the same. Beyond that door there was a bare bed. Only a mattress. The linen set on top, ready to be redone. No living human being, just an empty room.

  A nightmare far too real, because soon it would become true.

  No, I was kidding myself, it wouldn’t have been so easy, I wouldn’t find an empty bed. Diego would die in my arms after a long agony. He would just wear out. With a little luck he could have lost consciousness before, and not even notice passing away. He would have stopped breathing, simply. And I would have waited and waited for his chest to move again.