by Sergio Gomez
“None of those,” she shrugged, “but me and Twist go down to Lou’s Arcade to play there sometimes. You should come with us one of these days.”
He felt stupid about sounding like he’d been bragging about his consoles, when it should’ve been obvious her family wouldn’t be able to afford such things. “I like arcades. They have Mortal Kombat?”
“They did, but when the adults found out it had blood in it…” She ran her index finger across her throat and shook her head. “The churchgoers, as Twist calls them, wrote some letters and they took it out.”
“Bummer,” Jack said.
“I know. Me and Twist were there the day they wheeled it out of the arcade. It was like watching them take out a friend’s coffin.”
Jack laughed.
“They have Street Fighter, though,” Gina said, beaming. “I bet I can kick your butt in it, too.”
Jack was going to tell her there was no way, but then he saw Gina’s expression change. She scrunched her eyebrows up, and the top of her nose wrinkled up. Jack turned to see what had caught her attention.
At the side of the house, standing in the shadows, stood a man. He just stood there, watching, waiting to be noticed. He was tall and thin but with wide shoulders.
Gina didn’t know how, but somehow, she knew it was Mr. Gibson. Like she could sense his aura or something hokey like that.
She got out of the tire swing, and Jack stood up with her. The night closed in, and now the silent street turned eerie. The magic of their conversation destroyed by this unexpected visitor.
The old man started walking toward them. He carried something underneath his left arm. Something that had arms, and legs, and was the size of a five-year-old boy. Jack thought maybe he’d kidnapped someone until he realized it was just one of his toys. The same wooden doll that they’d seen earlier, in fact. The one that Victor wouldn’t shut up about until Twist told him to go away.
The old man still didn’t speak even as he got closer to them.
“Mr. Gibson?” Gina said.
Jack stood behind Gina, feeling a little bit like a chicken because he didn’t dare take the lead. This was her town, let her do it, he thought.
Mr. Gibson stepped close enough into the backyard to activate the motion light on the side of the house. The white light flooded around him like a stage light, and the children’s eyes both immediately fell back onto the dummy he carried.
With a bow, the old man finally spoke. “Good morning, children.”
“Uh, hi, Mr. Gibson. Can…can we help you?” Gina asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you two hanging out here in the middle of the night. Thought maybe I could put on a show for you.”
He held the dummy upright, at his chest level, showing off the details of his creation in the moonlight.
“Is that a ventriloquist dummy?” Gina asked, relaxing now that Mr. Gibson had finally explained himself.
“It is indeed. Smart girl,” Mr. Gibson said.
“I didn’t know you did stuff like that.”
Mr. Gibson looked at the doll in his hands, considering something for a second, and then seemed to shake himself. “You know what? I didn’t know I could do it either, but it’s like me and Lucas—that’s his name—have a connection. It’s like he’s a real boy.”
“I am a real boy, Dad!” Lucas insisted.
The sudden change in his voice and the dummy’s mouth moving made Jack jump back a step.
Gina laughed. “That was pretty good, Mr. Gibson. Got more?”
Mr. Gibson cleared his throat. “Mm-hmm. Let me see…”
“My dad’s house is stuffy, friends. Can I stay out here with you and enjoy the outdoors? We could play and have fun.”
Gina and Jack looked at one another.
“It would be most appreciated if you two would be his friend,” Mr. Gibson urged, nodding. “You two could put on your own show with him, if you like.”
“Um, yeah, sure, Mr. Gibson,” Gina said. She couldn’t think of any polite way to tell him how much he was creeping her out. If Jack hadn’t been here, she wouldn’t have been this brave.
Mr. Gibson beamed at her answer. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I’ll pick him up before lunch, how’s that sound?”
“Yeah. Just ring our bell. My mom is off tomorrow, so even if I’m not home she will be.”
“Ah, right. Miss Bobkin works late tonight, huh?”
The eeriness of the visit was making Gina’s teeth itch. “Th-that’s right, Mr. Gibson.”
“I’m up late a lot and notice activity on the street whenever there’s any. No need to be alarmed, my dear.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“It’s a gift and a curse to be retired.”
“Retired, must be nice.” Gina said.
The old man held Lucas out to her. “If you will, young lady?”
“Oh,” she said, stepping closer to the dummy.
Jack instinctively shadowed behind her.
She grabbed the doll. The thing was heavy. A lot heavier than she expected. She almost groaned when Mr. Gibson let the dummy go and all of its weight went on her arms, but there was no way she was going to show signs of weakness in front of a boy (Other than Tommy, huh, Smoochie? She taunted herself).
“Thank you, Mr. Gibson.” It was all she could bring herself to say.
“No, thank you,” he said, starting to walk back down the driveway. “This will mean a lot to Lucas.”
They watched him leave. The weight of the dummy grew heavier, and Gina wondered if she could just toss it in the closet for the night. How would Mr. Gibson know any different?
Jack moved in front of her to get a look at the dummy’s face. The old man sure had a talented hand because the face looked like a real human’s except for the obvious lines along the part where the jaw moved. That, and the unnatural gloss in its glass eyes.
“Hello, Lucas,” Jack said, reaching out and grabbing the wooden hand. It was cold and hard and smooth. “I’m Jack Roberts.”
Out the side of his mouth he tried his best to imitate the voice Mr. Gibson had given the dummy. “Hello Jack, I am Lucas.”
“You sound like a frog. Let me put this thing down.” She said, laughing.
Gina led him to the slanted picnic table and set the doll on the edge of it among the mismatched toys.
They stood side by side now, looking at the thing. It had a blond pompadour, a cheesy smile on its face, and dark eyes. Gina couldn’t help but think of how Tommy’s eyes had looked underneath the tunnel earlier that day—or yesterday, whatever.
“Kind of weird, huh?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, I don’t really get why he gave him to us.”
Jack shrugged, then chuckled. “Was I hearing things, or did he call him his son?”
“He’s a strange old man, but he’s sweet.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer to his question, but it answered what he was thinking next. So, he left it at that.
The sound of gravel crunching underneath tires at the front of the house announced the end of their late-night hangout. Her mom was home.
“I have to go, Jack.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, “hopefully my dad or his fiancée didn’t wake up and realize I’m gone.”
“They won’t worry once they realize you’re in good hands.” Gina punched him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, right.”
“Okay, for real. I gotta go meet my mom at the front of the house.” Gina went to pick up Lucas, but then thought better of it. “Nah, it’ll be fine here. My mom will freak if I bring this thing inside.”
“Why?”
“She’ll say I’m too old to play with dolls.”
“You are.”
Gina narrowed her eyes at him. “Only took it to be nice. Besides, you were the one who did that dumb voice.”
“I’ll take it.” Jack said.
“What?”
“I’ll take it,” Jack repeated. Then, trying to imita
te Mr. Gibson’s Lucas voice again he said, “I like making new friends.”
“Real funny, City Boy.” Gina scoffed. “But go ahead and take him if you want.”
Jack picked the doll up, and like Gina, found out it was heavier than he thought it’d be. He rotated it in awkward fashion until he had it secured in his arms, almost like he was carrying an infant, except the dummy was almost half his size, so it didn’t quite work as intuitively.
They walked to the front of the house where Miss Bobkin was climbing out of the car. She was a large woman, not in the traditional sense because from the waist up she didn’t seem large, but her thighs were some of the biggest thighs Jack had ever seen.
“Hey there, young man,” she said, coming around the car to meet Gina at the front of the car.
“Hi Miss Bobkin.” Jack said to her.
“Good night, Jack! See you tomorrow.” Gina said, going up the porch steps.
Miss Bobkin followed behind her, the wood thumped underneath every labored step she took.
Jack heard the murmur of Miss Bobkin asking Gina who he was and what he was doing out late at night, and the fact that she didn’t turn around to grill him about it told him everything he needed to know about how cool she was.
Most parents—especially his mom, now that he thought about it—would have woken up the kid’s parents and the entire neighborhood to let them know a young kid was out in the middle of the night with a strange doll.
Gina was telling her he lived across the street, and for Miss Bobkin that seemed to be a good enough explanation as she just said, “Oh”. Then Jack was halfway across the street and couldn’t hear anything.
There was a whistling sound hitting his ears that he first attributed to the windchimes, except there was no wind. The whistling was coming from him.
He laughed.
Now that he was away from Gina, and the fun they’d been having, sleep was making him deliriously tired. His eyelids were heavy, and by tomorrow morning he would barely remember meeting Miss Bobkin out front of the house. Lucas also felt like he weighed a ton. It was way past time for bed.
Jack went into his house, tiptoeing, and locked the door behind him. He listened for a moment, but it was all quiet.
He went into the living room before going upstairs and tossed the dummy onto the sofa. It landed in a half sit, half slump against the armrest facing the TV.
“Want me to turn the TV on for you?”
Jack laughed at his own joke, but the dummy stayed silent.
Then he climbed up the staircase, kicked his slippers off, and threw himself into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Raymond had walked back home with an emptiness in his heart. This must have been what a parent felt like when they dropped their child off at daycare for the first time, or left them in front of the school on the first day of pre-K. Heck, it might’ve even been what a dog owner felt when they dropped their pooch off at the kennel. It felt like he was losing a piece of himself, even if it was just for a few hours.
But it also felt right.
The force that had been guiding his hand when making the dummy had also guided him into sharing Lucas with the neighborhood.
As empty as the living room seemed without the doll, deep in his heart he knew he was doing the right thing. And that when he and Lucas would be back together again, things would be better than ever.
Not just for him.
But for Lucas, too.
Chapter 22
The next morning, Tommy Marino awoke with thoughts of the kiss with Gina on his mind. Those thoughts had been with him since he’d left Dudley Street, and all evening while he helped his old man fix up the Volkswagen, and then all night until he finally fell asleep last night.
He laid on his back, with his hands laced behind his head, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.
“Damnit, Marino,” he swore at himself.
These feelings inside of him felt foreign.
He was supposed to be the cool guy at school. The one who all the younger kids came to for smokes. The guy in that sweet leather jacket all of the older kids invited to their parties. The one who the smart kids allowed to cheat off their tests he hadn’t studied for. The one all the girls swooned over. All of them. Not just one.
So why did he feel so funny when he thought of Gina Bobkin, a poor, homeschooled girl who lived all the way on the other side of town?
Yeah, her lips had been soft.
And yeah, her green eyes shone with this sort of light.
And yeah, her blond hair looked silky smooth.
So what? Tommy thought angrily. There were other girls who had all that. He’d kissed lots of girls, and noticed their eyes, and touched their hair.
“Get it together, Marino,” he said, getting out of bed.
He walked over to his closet and grabbed his baseball bat from the corner. In times like these, he had to take stress out the only way he knew. The Marino way.
It was time to go to Lou’s and hit the batting cage.
“Holy shit,” Scott said, his heart jumping up into his throat.
He stopped at the bottom of the staircase when he saw Mr. Gibson’s dummy staring at him from the loveseat.
He shook off the initial shock, feeling stupid for being frightened of a wooden doll.
But how the hell had it gotten into his house?
He came down, and went to where the dummy sat. Its eyes, glossy but dead in its wooden face, stared at the television set. Even if there had been something playing on it, it wouldn’t have looked like the thing was watching the screen, because its eyes had a perpetual gaze of looking through things.
Scott picked it up. He felt the weight of it.
“You’re a heavy son of a bitch, aren’t you?” he said.
He wanted to get this thing out of the house before Maria woke up, because he knew her belief in superstitions would have her freaking out over it worse than he had. It was a good thing he’d found it first. She probably would have screamed loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood.
“Let’s get you back to your house. And figure out how you got back in here, okay?” he said, feeling silly for talking to it, but somehow it just seemed the right thing to do. Ignoring it would be rude, somehow.
Scott hoped the old man hadn’t forced his way in to leave it here in an early onset episode of Alzheimer’s or dementia.
Upstairs, something touched Jack’s cheek.
He stirred, and wiped at his face like an invisible gnat had just landed on it.
Downstairs, Scott got one step closer to the front door.
The something touched Jack’s cheek again, this time harder. This time it felt like a finger had poked him on the side of his head.
Jack rolled over to his other side, and grumbled sleepily, “Five more minutes. Please, Mom?”
Scott got another step closer.
Jack felt something grab his shoulder and shake him.
He opened his eyes, but there was nothing there. Fluffing his pillow up, he drifted back to sleep.
Downstairs, Scott set Lucas down on the ground and grabbed his jacket off the coatrack.
The blankets pulled away from him and he was being shook all over like an earthquake had hit his room. Jack shot up out of bed, eyes bugged out, and with a cold sweat running down his back.
It wasn’t like when he’d woken up last night spooked by Tommy’s stupid story, this time it was different. Something was wrong, very wrong.
Jack raced down the stairs.
He didn’t know how, but he knew whatever he needed to fix was happening downstairs. He took them two at a time, and saw his Dad picking up Lucas, ready to head out of the house.
“Dad!” he called out.
Scott stopped. Jack was at the bottom of the stairs, still in his pajama bottoms and an old Power Rangers t-shirt, his hair pointing in every which direction on his head.
“Hey champ, what’s up? You okay?”
“Um, yeah, I’m fin
e,” Jack said in a rush. “It’s just, well, Mr. Gibson wanted me to hold on to Lucas.”
Scott glanced down at the dummy in his hands. “Oh, so you’re the one that brought this little bugger back in the house?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. Mr. Gibson saw how much we liked him and let us borrow him for a while.”
That didn’t seem right to Scott. After Jack had got back from his ride with his new friends, he’d come right upstairs to talk. They had dinner with Maria, and then they’d watched some movies, and Jack had gone to bed. There was no time when Jack could have gotten this thing from Mr. Gibson.
“When did this happen, Jack?”
“Oh shoot,” Jack said, realizing he’d just ratted himself out. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I came down to get a glass of water, then I saw Gina—the girl that was with us yesterday?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Scott wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“Um, well, I saw her outside, waiting for her mom to come back from her night job. So I went over to hang out with her, and then Mr. Gibson came over and he had Lucas with him and he said he wanted us to keep him until later today.”
“Jeez. Does no one sleep around here?” Scott grumbled. “So let me get this straight. You went over to a girl’s house you barely know, and I don’t know at all, in the middle of the night?”
“Y-yeah. All we did was hang out in her backyard and talk. I was only out for an hour, I swear.”
“Not the point, bud. You can’t be leaving the house without telling us, and you sure can’t be alone at girls’ houses.”
Scott wanted to go harder on him, but he’d been thirteen once. And Lord knew he’d done much worse at his age. In comparison, this was nothing.
Jack looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry...”
“Well, glad you’re coming clean. Don’t do it again, though.”
“You got it, Dad.” Jack shifted his weight to his other foot. “Um. So, can I have Lucas back?”
Something had pushed him to ask that. Funny how last night he and Gina wanted to get rid of it and now he couldn’t bear the thought of his dad bringing Lucas back to Mr. Gibson early.