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THE DOLL MAKERS
By Donald Sullivan
Cindy and I enjoy the outdoors, and we were planning a camping trip for the coming weekend. She was thumbing through a brochure listing camping sites in the state.
"I like this one," she said. "Spirit Lake. Primitive area with no facilities, and it doesn't get many visitors. Only rates a half-star."
"Good," I said. "The fewer people around, the better."
"Here's an interesting footnote," she said. "It says that some campers shun the lake because of mysterious disappearances over the years. Local legend says that for each camper that disappeared, a doll resembling the camper was found in the area. Wonder what that's about."
"It's a pretty remote area," I said. "Sometimes people get lost. Nothing mysterious about that."
"What about the dolls they claim to have found?"
"A search party finds a child's lost doll, and over the years it grows into a legend. Nothing to it. If you'd like to go there, it's okay with me, Babe."
*****
We set out before daybreak Saturday morning, and arrived at the lake around 9:00 AM. We parked the Jeep and pitched the tent near the lakeshore. This was our first trip to Spirit Lake, so we set out to do a little exploring before lunch.
We'd only strolled a few hundred yards when we spotted an old, abandoned house sitting on a hill about a hundred feet from the lake. I groaned inwardly; I knew what was coming.
"C'mon, Willy, let's check it out," she said. "You know I'm still a kid when it comes to abandoned houses."
"But there might be ghosts up there." I widened my eyes in mock fright.
"William Donovan afraid of ghosts? C'mon, let's go."
She was already hurrying up the slope.
"I don't share your enthusiasm for run-down houses," I muttered, "but if it makes you happy..."
I couldn't fathom her fascination with old, abandoned houses. But on the other hand, she didn't share my fascination for old timepieces.
I plodded up the slope, but when I reached the old house, Cindy was nowhere in sight. I studied the house. It was a two-story farmhouse, at least a hundred years old.
"Willy, come around to the back," I heard her call. "I've found some fruit trees. The pears are delicious."
I hurried to the back yard. I found several apple trees and a lone pear tree. I looked around for Cindy, but she had disappeared again. She must be inside, I guessed, exploring the old house.
While waiting for her, I passed the time by looking around the back yard. I found an old well, a smokehouse, and a stable. All were rickety, but still standing. Rusty horseshoes and a bridle still hung on the stable walls.
Cindy had been quiet for a long time, which was unusual for her. I decided to go in the house and look for her. I entered the back door.
"Cindy, are you in here?" No reply. "C'mon, Babe. this is no time for games. It's almost noon and I'm hungry. Let's go back to the Jeep." Still no reply. Fearing she might have fallen and hurt herself, I searched the old house from top to bottom.
I then moved outside and started searching the grounds. I was near the end of my search when I opened the smokehouse door and discovered the doll. It was about two feet tall, and it was an exact replica of Cindy. There was the mole under her left eye, and even the clothing on the doll was identical to what she was wearing.
I picked up the doll and examined it closely, and laughed. This was one of Cindy's practical jokes. We sometimes played jokes on each other, and she was getting back at me for putting the fake spider in her soup. She'd set me up pretty good, and had me going for a while.
"Okay, Babe. You win. You've scared the bejabbers out of me. You can come out of hiding now." Complete silence.
Something was wrong. Cindy should be coming out of hiding now, laughing and teasing me because I fell for her trick. I began to worry. I remembered the old well. What if she had fallen in while looking for a good place to hide? I hurried to the well and was relieved to find that it had been filled in.
If she didn't turn up soon, I would call for help; the cell phone was in the Jeep. Before calling 911, I decided to make one more thorough search of the area.
For the next hour, I rechecked the house and the grounds, and even wandered into the surrounding woods. I found nothing. I sat on the steps of the old house to rest and to collect my thoughts. I thought of the doll. Cindy and I had left the Jeep empty handed. There was no way she could have brought it along without my knowing about it. She couldn't have planted it.
I also wondered how she had disappeared so quickly. I wasn't far behind her, and when she called to me I was there in perhaps ten or fifteen seconds. Where could she have gone?
I tried to retrace her steps as near as I could guess. I walked out to the fruit trees. She had called out that the pears were delicious. I went to the pear tree and picked one. I wiped it with my sleeve and took a bite. It was delicious.
I walked away from the tree at a fast pace, counting the seconds. After about fifteen seconds, the tree was still in sight. But as I looked toward the trees, I suddenly became disoriented. My vision blurred, as if a thick fog had formed around me.
When my vision cleared, I saw movement among the fruit trees. I couldn't believe what I was seeing with my own eyes. I thought I was losing my mind. The strain was getting to me. Elves were feasting and dancing under the trees. Instinctively, I ducked behind a bush.
This was absurd. Dancing elves? I thought of my grandmother and her tales of elves, fairies, and leprechauns. She called them the Wee People. I thought that my subconscious mind must be remembering her tales and causing me to hallucinate.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, but when I looked again, they were still there. And then I saw Cindy. She was staring in my direction. She said something to one of the elves and started toward my hiding place. She walked up and knelt down beside me. I could see that she was terrified.
"Willy," she whispered, "don't say anything. Just listen. They haven't seen you. I was lucky that I happened to be looking in your direction when you appeared. They don't suspect anything; they think I had to go to the bathroom.
"God knows I'm happy to see you, but you can't stay here. If they see you, they'll capture and enslave you, as they did me."
I started to say something, but she put her finger to her lips. "The elves have put a spell on the pear tree. The elves become visible to anyone who eats fruit from the tree--but we become visible to them as well. They are drunk now. Their senses are dulled by whiskey or they would have seen you already. You've got to go before they spot you."
"Okay, but I'm taking you with me."
"No! Impossible. They've put an enslavement spell on me. If I go beyond the boundary of their domain, I'll die. Now please hurry." She rose up. "I've got to go now, or they'll get suspicious."
My heart sank as I watched her walk back to the partying Wee People. I had to fight the foolish impulse to chase after her.
Crouching, I backed away, using brush for cover. I made it to the stable and ducked inside. For the moment, I was out of sight. The area on each side of the stable was free of brush, and offered no cover. I needed to find a way out through the back of the stable to escape.
But what if I did escape? I might never see Cindy again. On the other hand, if I surrendered to the elves, at least we'd be together. I came to a decision. I would try to escape and find help--if I could find anyone who would believe me. Failing that, I would return and surrender to the elves. Maybe Cindy and I could work together and find a way to escape them.
There was no way out the back of the stable. If I tried running around the side, the elves might spot me. Perhaps my best chance would be to wait until darkness fell. But waiting until dark would do no good, because the Wee People could see in the dark.
But how did I know that? Then it dawned on me--I knew because my grandmother, who was born in Ireland, had told me many tales of the Wee People. Some of the tales were coming back to me now.
The Wee People were partial to anyone of Irish blood, she had said. But there were spiteful renegades who had no love for the Irish or anyone else. The renegades were a cruel, vicious lot, she warned, and they should be avoided.
One of their customs, she told me, was to leave behind a likeness of any mortal they chanced to capture. That explained the dolls.
Grandmother advised that iron was the best weapon to fight the renegades. Being of fairy stock, iron is deadly poison to them. I eyed the horseshoes on the wall and a plan formed in my mind. I decided to stay and fight the renegade Wee People. I hoped that my grandmother was right about all that she had told me.
I grabbed two of the rusty horseshoes and stuck them in my belt, behind me where they couldn't be easily seen. I took a deep breath and left the stable. I set out toward the drunken Wee People. They were so caught up in their merriment that I was almost in their midst before they spotted me.
Cindy's face was ashen. "Willy! What are you..."
"Never mind," I said. "Just point out their king to me."
A long bearded elf stepped up to me and folded his arms. "I am king, ye foolish mortal." He turned and snapped a command. "Capture and enslave this fool."
Before they could move to obey him, I jumped forward and grabbed the drunken king by the wrist.
"Gotcha!" I said. "I know your rules. If you capture me, you can enslave me. But if I capture you, you must grant me a wish."
"Not if I'm able to escape ye," he said. "Help me escape this fool, ye drunken ninnies. Grab him!"
With my free hand, I reached and pulled out one of the horseshoes. "Grab me," I said, "if you like the taste of iron."
The Wee People scattered, screaming in panic.
"Now will you grant my wish?"
"Anything. Anything in me power. What do ye want?"
"Release my wife from your enslavement spell."
"It is done. Now ye must let me go."
"It's true," said Cindy. "I felt the spell leave me."
I released him and he fled into the surrounding woods. I handed Cindy the other horseshoe.
"Use this if they decide to try anything."
There was a rustling sound in the woods. The king and all his people stepped out from the woods and showed themselves. They began shaking their fists and screeching at us.
"They're still afraid of the iron," said Cindy, "but they're angry and want revenge. We'd better get out of here before they think of a way to trap us."
"Wait," I said. "Will we be visible to normal people? You vanished from sight when you ate the pear, and you were invisible to me until I also ate one.
Once we're out of their domain--the area around the lake--we'll be away from their influence and back to normal." She took my hand. "Let's go."
*****
We didn't stop running until we reached the Jeep. Exhausted, we clung to each other.
"Willy, I..."
I placed my finger on her lips, then kissed her.
"We'll talk about it on the way back. Let's get out of here."
We climbed into the Jeep and sped toward home.
**THE END**
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