Drama Dolls: A Novel: [Dark, Suspenseful, Fast-paced, Exhilarating] (15 page)

Flexing her triceps, steadying her arms, Brittney nudged Barb with her elbow. Staring into the sofa, she said, “You lead.”

In her own tabletop position, Barb rolled her eyes. She said, “Ready?”

Lena and Brittney, they simultaneously said, “OK.”

On both knees, her upper torso lengthening, Lena slow clapped a steady rhythm. “Give me a dee. Give me an ar. Give me an ay. Give me an em. Give me another ay.” Her clapping becoming louder and louder, bouncing off the walls, she said, “What’s that spell?”

Looking straight, body stern, Brittney said, “Drama!”

“What’s that spell?”

“Drama!”

And Barb, next to Brittney, her body limp and uninterested, she whispered, “Drama,” without energy.

“Say it again,” Lena said. “Drama!” Shooting her right fist into the air, her balance adjusted, causing her to crash down to the floor.

Feeling Lena next to her, Brittney turned to catch her, with Lena only falling the remaining distance with Brittney’s arms around her waist.

Lena laughed, her body shaking in excitement.

“Are you alright?” Brittney said.

Laughing, her face turning red, a smile covering half of it, Lena said, “That was so fun!”

Annoyed, unwilling to go on, Barb stood to her feet. She said, “Let’s just see what we got.” Barb quickly collected the random stacks that were pushed aside. When the remaining cheerleaders were out of the way, Barb returned the end tables to their positions.

Getting back to business, sorting through the heists’ contents, Barb sat focused on the job in front of her. Silently fuming, grabbing each necklace one by one and placing them into separate stacks, Barb began to breathe heavier. Her exhaling was visible. A din of air erupting out of her nostrils.

The voice of obvious reason, it said, “Somebody’s pissed off.”

Concerned, breaking up the tension, Lena said, “How’s Emily?” Her voice was soft. Quiet.

“She is,” Brittney said, each word separated by a pause, “resting.”

Barb’s eyes moved toward Brittney. Her hand picking and sorting without stopping. Throwing the jewelry into their respective piles, she shook her head in disgust. The air becoming thick between them, silence now eerie, Barb stopped all motion. A few items still in her grasp.

Abrupt and to the point, throwing a bracelet hard into the floor while her other palm fisted around another, Barb said, “We can’t keep taking her.”

Lena froze. Her body rising from its position, moving back to evacuate the area without drawing attention to herself. Her eyes moving sideways, she slid back into her seat to gain distance from the two.

Brittney’s mood switched. Building to a fume, she yelled, “Get out!” Pointing to the front door, she said, “Get the fuck out!”

Holding a bangle bracelet in her hand, staring into Brittney’s eyes, Barb opened her mouth. She wanted to say something but instead just stood up.

Dropping the accessory, walking toward the entry way, Barb turned and said, “We’re better off without her.” Turning the handle and opening the door, she said, “
You’re
better off. Trust me.”

Lena hesitated. Caught in the middle, deciding to stay neutral for the time being, she slowly followed. She had no other choice. “I’ll call you later,” she said to Brittney.

Brittney, her glare zoning in on Barb, did not utter a word.

Lena, leaning into Brittney’s sightline, said, “OK?”

Halfway down the staircase, Barb disappeared from the scene.

A breeze of sticky air entered the house, brushing up against Lena as she stood stationary in the doorway.

In the living room, the irate Doll’s eyes were locked on the spot where they last saw Barb, looking past the statue-still Lena and into the darkness.

Closing the door behind her, Lena paused and then poked her head inside the house. She whispered, “I’ll call you,” and then disappeared from the Victorian.

Alone in the room, the heat becoming unbearable, Brittney walked up the staircase. Taking hard steps, stomping up the wood flight, she walked toward her bedroom. Passing the answering machine, the blinking red light showing new messages, Brittney entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Stripping out of the cheerleader outfit, her face still splattered with makeup, Brittney/Jeffrey slid into bed with Emily.

Emily was naked underneath the covers, undressed by Jeffrey when he brought her upstairs. Sleeping, passed out, dead, whatever tripped Jeffrey’s trigger, Emily did exactly what he wanted her to do. A RealDoll consisting of a poseable skeleton and silicone flesh, Emily had been purchased after She died.

Unable to let go, and not wanting to be alone, Jeffrey had ordered the life-sized flexible mannequin when an Internet advertisement popped up on his browser while visiting an adult website.

Designed to be as realistic as a human female, Jeffrey had maxed out his credit card with the anticipation that he could temporarily replace his wife until he finished grieving.

Dressing up Emily was difficult at first. Jeffrey had never dressed anyone but himself, so sliding on panties and pulling shirts over her upper body was new to him. Ordering a doll with the same measurements as his wife, he was able to save money by reusing Her clothes.

Working it out with his inner voice, Jeffrey insisted that Emily was not taking the place of Her. Merely wearing Her clothes was a way for Jeffrey to remember Her and save money at the same time.

The voice of “killing two birds with one stone” reason said, “I love how your brain works.”

The sturdiness of the RealDoll was worth the money. Platinum silicone was stronger so the doll would not tear, so the longevity would last as long as Jeffrey needed it to.

He turned to Emily. Still distraught from the encounter with William, Jeffrey said, “He can’t tell me what to do.” She remained lifeless as he stroked her hair. Jeffrey pulled her in close to him.

“OK?” Jeffrey said to her. Emily was unresponsive. She had the same expression as before. Her eyes seducing you when you look at her. Her lips, full, and ready for action. Blackish straight hair that was interchangeable with a blonde wig with a trace of sandy brown.

Emily’s sultry eyes were olive colored. Shaped like raindrops, they never moved. She never betrayed any emotion. When Jeffrey was depressed, Emily flashed her pouty lips. When he was angry, her alluring eyes put him in a trance. Praying to God to give him one more day with Her, Emily sat available with her thirty-two inch bust. Whatever emotion Jeffrey experienced, Emily was there, always accessible and never criticizing him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeffrey said. Emily, dead still, she said nothing. Jeffrey turned to her, spooning the naked figure, he said, “I know what will make you feel better.” Rolling on top of Emily, Jeffrey began kissing her naked body. Sliding his tongue down in between her breasts, Jeffrey kicked Emily’s legs apart and slid into her.

On the steps in front of the house, just off the boulevard, William and Lena were talking. Explaining how he had broken down at the burglary, William said, “You need to talk to him.”

“Me?” Lena said. Changing the subject, she said in an accusing manner, “What the fuck was that in there?” Accusing William of malice, she pushed him. The shove caused William to fall back a couple steps.

Regaining his posture, getting into Lena’s face, William said, “You know I’m right, Lena!” His face close to hers, the warmth of his breath on her lips, he said, “Don’t act like I’m not right!”

Backing away, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, Lena looked up to the window of the master bedroom. A dim light from the lamp, she could make out a shadow in the window. Up and down a dark head passed into view, disappearing suddenly.

When Lena returned to William, he was back in her face. “You need to talk to him,” he said. Pointing his finger at her, he said, “This is what’s best for him.” William pleaded his case. His body deflated, exhausted from the continual heists and getaways.

Lena turned away. She was holding in tears. Her body began to shake and her heart started to beat faster. Looking back up to the bedroom window, a silhouette of an upper torso appearing, she burst out crying.

Sighing, William said, “Lena.” He followed her gaze, stepping in front of her view, attempting to convince her. “Please tell me you will talk to him.”

Covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes wet with tears, she fell to her knees and bawled. Moving her hands up over her eyes, her voice shaking as she spoke, Lena said, “I don’t know.”

William scratched the side of his neck. Spinning around, looking out into the darkness, William brushed his hand through his hair. Scratching the top of his head, he placed his other arm on his hip. William stood still, his back toward the crying Lena. Breathing in and out, slowing down his pulse, William closed his eyes.

A soft voice, his body calming, William said, “Lena.” Sniffling below him, Lena stared into the sidewalk. “Lena?” William said. He said, “Promise me you’ll talk to him.” Turning around to face the emotive cheerleader Doll, William looked down and saw the top of her head. “This is for the best.”

Never looking up to him, still in a kneeling position, Lena nodded her head in agreement.

William craned his head up toward the bedroom window, looking into the faintly lit room. In the opening, shadowed cast from the lamp, showed two figures having sex. Staring for what seemed to be an eternity, William said, “We both know it.”

He turned back to Lena, whose head was buried in her chest. “Trust me,” he said.

Tiptoeing up each step on the staircase, the stairs creaking beneath her as she walked closer to the bedroom, Lena’s breathing increased. Her heart was racing. The sounds from the room growing louder.

A sliver of light escaped from underneath the door. Its cheese wedge shape being interrupted by random shadows. Through the door, the bed frame was quietly squeaking. The casters digging into the floors. They were making small divots after a while.

Reaching for the decorative knob, Lena pulled back when a loud groan filtered under the door. She slid down the wall, onto the hardwood. Sitting with her head buried into her knees. Her body started convulsing. Tears began to fall from her warm, damp cheeks.

“Emily… yeah… that feels good,” coming from the room. Hearing Jeffrey’s voice only made Lena worse. His wife had been gone for not nearly as long as her own spouse, yet he was coping better than she was.

The bed rocking increased, the divots formed by the casters rounding out deeper into grooves. “Uh… uh… oh… UH!”

The surround sound of love grunts echoed off the walls. Lena stared into her lap, her kneecaps saturated in sweat. The humidity in the house was uncomfortable. The polyester from Lena’s cheerleader skirt was sticking to her thighs.

Pulling the fabric from her skin, releasing the sweat beads that were trapped underneath, Lena straightened out her legs and sat still. Listening to Jeffrey and Emily in the bedroom through the wooden door that separated them.

The phone rang suddenly, startling Lena. Leaning her head down to the floor, Lena peeked into the bedroom to see if Jeffrey was getting up. The bedframe’s feet shaking repeatedly, the phone was ringing its third chime. Jeffrey’s voice, imperceptible under the loud drumming of the telephone, became audible when the answering machine turned on.

“Emily!” Jeffrey said. His voice, it was ethereal in the dark quarters.

Lena swallowed her tears, saliva in her mouth she had to take down before choking.

A woman’s voice pouring out of the speaker was announcing to Jeffrey that she loved him and should call her soon. “We all miss Her,” the disembodied voice said. “Please let me know you’re OK.”

Lena crawled into the spare room where the phone machine was. A blinking twelve enticed Lena to hear the messages. The twelve, flashing on and off, mocking her, invited her to push play.

A fingernail distance away from violating Jeffrey’s privacy, Lena withdrew her arm and walked back into the hallway. She slinked down to her former position, the back of her thighs sticking to the floor.

The bed rocking louder, Jeffrey’s grunts hollow against the walls, the lovemaking culminated when Jeffrey squealed, “UHH!”

Silence ensued.

Lena, lying flat on her chest, she peeped under the door into the master bedroom. A clicking sound scared her back. Then, the cheese block of light vanished from under the door.

Alone, in the dead hush of the house, the only light came from a street light on the corner of the block. Illuminating another room in the home, the faint light shadowed Lena as she buried her head into the floor, attempting to recover. Her sniffles were short and quick. Cottonmouth in exchange for saliva. Her cheeks were balmy. They were becoming a sticky dryness.

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Lena was picking Jeffrey up for coffee when she first met Emily. Entering his antique house, Lena was amazed at how beautiful the inside was. Staring up at the basketball-hoop-high ceiling, eying the crown molding around the perimeter, Lena’s vision found the brick fireplace positioned in the center of the wall in the living room.

Everything flowed together nicely in the home. “Would you like a tour?” Jeffrey said.