by Ocean
“Seven a.m.ish.”
“So, we’ll only have a few hours before we’re frozen again to figure out our next step, right?”
“Yeah.”
They spent a long time not talking. Rosie’s thoughts jumped sporadically from thinking about her life prior to the vacation and remembering how she’d met Devin. She relived what had happened on the island and worried about their current situation. And, she wondered what would become of them.
When Devin spoke, it jarred her, and she twitched.
“Rosie. I’m really sorry I got you into this. I promise, I’ll get us out of it. I’ll figure something out.”
Rosie’s brain ached. That is, the space where her brain would be if she had one. It felt as if someone had pulled a rubber band tight and released it. She snapped.
“Devin, I’ve had enough of your promises. Our souls are stuck inside these stupid nun dolls, and we’re on our way to Cuba. Two other women are walking around in our bodies. Who knows what they’ll do with them? I’m not very hopeful that we’ll make it back to the Florida Keys, find the women who absconded our bodies, and figure out a way to reverse the curse. I don’t think it’ll be easy to simply sneak up on them and kiss them long enough to have our souls transfer. Basically, I’d say we’re screwed.”
Devin slumped.
“Well, you have a point. It won’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean impossible. One thing we have going for us is time. Look on the bright side. We won’t age.”
Rosie felt her temper catapult out of control but couldn’t stop it. If she had blood pressure, she was pretty sure it’d be high right now. She wanted to scream. It took all her self-control to keep her voice even.
“We won’t age? We won’t age!” Her voice rose an octave. “That’s what we have going for us?”
“Shush, keep your voice down,” Devin said.
“It. Is. Down,” Rosie seethed but lowered her tone. “But our bodies will age, Devin. With or without us. I don’t want to get back into our bodies when we’re eighty years old, do you?” Then a thought occurred to her. “Or, oh no, what if we never find them again? What if they disappear, go somewhere to a distant place, some unknown island on the other side of the world? What do we do then? Trade bodies with someone new? I don’t want a new body. I want my old one back!” Panic had set in. She knew her anxiety level was rising out of control but was helpless to stop it.
“Okay, listen.” Devin placed a hand on her arm. “I understand, and I’m sorry, but we can’t start fighting. We have to work together to get out of this.”
“Well, then stop making promises you can’t keep.” Rosie was about to either cry or hyperventilate.
“Rosie, getting you back into your own body is one promise I intend on keeping. No matter what it takes.”
“Devin! How can you say that? You–”
Without warning, the bag lifted, and they tumbled toward each other.
There was a long moan of a ship's horn followed by a male voice booming over a loudspeaker.
“Dockside in five minutes.”
As the man walked, he swung the bag. Rosie jiggled against Devin.
“Ouch. Quit it,” Devin said.
“It’s not like I can help it.”
“We’ve got to get out of here. I refuse to be stuck in a museum for the rest of my life.”
The man stopped walking, and they disentangled themselves.
“What’s he doing?” Rosie asked.
“I don’t know.”
Devin tried peeking through the space in the zipper. “I think he’s waiting in line.”
“When he said he was bringing us to the Mambo, the other men were terribly frightened of her. Do you think it’s the same Mambo that placed the curse on Ria and Naomi in the first place?”
“Maybe, but that was almost three-hundred years ago. I don’t see how could it be.”
“How could it be that our souls are trapped inside the bodies of two dolls?”
“Good point. If there is a Mambo, do you think she’d help us?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it’s worth a try. What’s the worse she can do? She can’t curse us again.” Rosie paused. “Can she?”
“Rosie, help me. I can’t reach.” Devin was trying but the top of the bag was just beyond her fingertips. Since the man was holding the handles, the zipper was pulled up, away from her grasp.
“How can I help you?” Rosie asked.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
Rosie dropped down, and Devin climbed on her back.
“Ouch. You need to lose some weight,” she said.
“I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t think we even eat anything.”
Devin had a grasp on the tag of the zipper from the inside and wiggled it. Slowly it moved an inch at a time. She pulled herself up and popped her head out of the bag.
“Well?” Rosie looked up at Devin’s body that hung above her. “What do you see?”
“A sign that says, ‘Welcome to Havana’.”
“Come on up.” Devin held onto the top of the bag with one arm and reached down for Rosie with her other hand. Rosie jumped up and grabbed the extended arm, and Devin lifted her up. Together they hung onto the top of the bag and surveyed their surroundings. The man had bounced down the ramp from the ship and hustled toward a bus.
“We’ve got to go,” Devin said.
“Go where?” Rosie asked.
“Anywhere but where he’s going. We can’t get on that bus.”
Before Rosie could argue, the man shuffled the strap of the gym bag up over his shoulder. In an instant, Devin climbed up, out of the bag and lept. She landed on the ground and rolled. Devin waved frantically at Rosie and pointed down at the ground, but Rosie continued to cling to the top of the bag. She certainly didn’t want to be carried off to a museum, especially without Devin, but the thought of jumping from such a height terrified her. The screeching squeal of brakes announcing the arrival of a bus masked the sound of Devin’s cry.
“Rosie. Jump!”
“I can’t. I’m afraid.” She mouthed the words.
Devin was losing ground and falling farther behind.
“Jump!” She ordered. “I don’t want to lose you!”
As the man was about to take his first step into the bus, Rosie took a deep breath, closed her eyes and jumped. Both she and her glasses flew airborne in different directions. She grunted as she landed then rolled in the dust. Devin rushed to her, picked up her glasses first then helped Rosie to stand.
As the bus pulled away, they brushed the dirt off themselves. Devin sniffed.
“We stink like onions,” she said.
A man riding a bicycle approached them, and they froze like two statues.
The tires of the man’s bike were rusty and warped. He looked as equally rusty and warped. He sang to himself. “Ole Amigo, mi’ amore…”
When he saw the two dolls, he stopped.
“Ah, look. Two lovely dolls. My little girl will love them.”
He picked them up and tucking one under each arm, continued singing his song as he peddled away into the night.
4
Nice doggie
When the man arrived home, he parked his bicycle around the back and entered into a small cottage. The furniture and decorations were sparse, but it was clean and neat inside.
“Where have you been?” A female’s voice projected from an adjoining room.
A matted, rotund dog lay in the corner. It lifted its head. A low growl rumbled from the animal’s graying muzzle, but it didn’t bother getting up.
“I had a meeting,” the man said.
A woman appeared from the back room. Her hands gripped her hips. She wore a stained apron, the front of which was covered with flour.
“A meeting? My beautiful ass. Meetings don’t last until four in the morning. You were at the Thirsty Padre’s again. I swear, if you don’t–”
“Please,” the man held a hand up. His face softened. “Look.
I brought our sweet little bambino something. Where is she?”
“Where is she? It’s four in the morning. She’s sleeping like we all should be.” The woman eyed the dolls with suspicion. “Where’d you get those?” Her nose lifted as if she’d smelled something foul.
“Never mind. That’s my business and none of yours.”
“None of my business?” Her finger waggled in the air. “I’ll tell you what’s my business–”
“Mamma, you’re making too much noise.” A little girl appeared, rubbing her eyes.
She had black hair worn in two tight braids and large, dark eyes. When she saw the man, she pulled her hands from her face and clasped them together, intertwining the fingers.
Quickly, he turned sideways, partially hiding the dolls from the girl’s view.
Rosie’s head tilted from around the man’s shoulder enough to see the girl’s eyes grow larger as the child attempted to figure out what her father was concealing.
“What do you have Papa?” The toes of each foot pointed inward toward the other, and one finger rose to play with her bottom lip. She stood obediently next to her mother, yet her scrutiny was fixed on him.
The woman crossed her arms, lifted her gaze toward the ceiling, and nodded in the man’s direction.
“Your father brought you something.”
The girl’s face brightened, and her two tiny palms slapped together several times. “You did? What did you bring me Papa?” She bound toward him.
“Two dolls. Look!” He turned back to face her, leaned down and forward, bringing his disheveled face closer to hers.
“Ooh, they’re beautiful!” she exclaimed. Enthusiastic joy beamed from her as she reached up and took the dolls. One at a time, she lifted them to her face and crinkled her nose.
“They smell like onions,” she proclaimed, holding them an arm’s length away.
“We’ll give them a bath and wash their outfits tomorrow, honey.” The mother patted the girl on the head.
The dog growled again. This time, he raised himself with great effort, slowly, one limb at a time and waddled unhurriedly toward the family.
The dog approached the girl, stretching his neck toward the dolls to get a better sniff.
“No! Bingo!” The girl spoke forcefully and held the dolls above her head. “These are mine. You’ll ruin them.”
The dog’s lip curled. A low rumble slid through his exposed, yellow teeth. His ears flattened, and his body lowered.
“Bad dog, Bingo! Bad dog!” The girl slapped at the dog’s nose, but he was quicker and turned away in time to miss the whack. He continued to eye both the girl and the dolls from a safe distance.
The girl hummed, turned and skipped away, clutching a doll in each hand with the dog dutifully trotting behind her.
5
Bad doggie
Rosie and Devin faked being immobile, keeping their arms and legs fixed in stiff positions while the girl played with them. Occasionally they snuck sideways glances toward each other. Rosie hoped Devin would think of some way to get out of this, because she had no brilliant ideas, so she continued to pretend she was a doll.
As the little girl played with Rosie and Devin, setting them up for a tea party along with other dolls and stuffed animals, the mother came into the bedroom.
“You need to put the dolls away and go back to bed, baby. It’s too early for little girls to be up.”
“Okay, Mamma. I have to go pee-pee first.” The little girl placed each doll high on a shelf next to her bed and skipped off to the bathroom with her mother following close behind.
“Devin,” Rosie whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what we’re going to do,” Devin answered. Rosie saw Devin eyeing the window and wondered if they could get it open and escape before the girl and her mother returned.
Bingo who’d been sleeping sprawled across the bedroom floor, lifted his head. A growl gurgled from his throat. His gaze fixed on Rosie, then Devin.
“What are we going to do about him?” Rosie asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
The dog sat up and moving in a crouched position, crawled toward them.
“Uh-oh,” Rosie said
“Scram,” Devin hissed.
The dog paused, momentarily freezing before taking two cautious steps forward. The girl’s joyful voice entered the room before her body bounced through the door. When the child saw the dog staring intensely at the dolls, she released a scream.
“Bingo! No!”
Bingo lunged. He was large enough that by extending his body, his two front paws landed on the shelf. His teeth clamped around Rosie.
“Ugh!” she yelled.
“Rosie!” Devin shouted.
The dog shook his head and with it, Rosie whipped side to side. As she was flung back and forth, the room spun, with her head, arms and legs flailing uncontrollably. Her glasses flew off and skid across the floor. The pressure of the dog’s teeth as they pressed into her stomach and back was uncomfortable, yet strangely, there was no pain. Her midsection felt the heat from the dog’s breath, and the dampness from his saliva soaked into her outfit. The smell of his rancid breath penetrated her nostrils.
“Devin!” Rosie yelled. “Help me!”
“Bingo! Let go! Mamma!” The girl screamed. She grabbed the dog's muzzle and unsuccessfully tried prying it open. The mother dashed into the room, pushed the girl out of the way and wrestled open the dog’s jaws. Released, Rosie fell face down to the floor.
Stunned, she lay still. The mother picked her up, brushed her off and straightened her veil and habit. She crossed the room, picked up Rosie’s glasses and placed them back on her face.
“Here,” she said as she wiped the dog’s saliva from Rosie’s dress and arms then handed her to the girl. “Keep your dolls away from Bingo.”
“I did Mamma. He took her off the shelf,” the girl said but refused to take Rosie. Instead, she crossed her arms and stepped away.
“Here,” the mother offered Rosie to the girl again.
The girl shook her head.
“No Mamma, that’s a bad doll.”
The mother studied Rosie.
“What do you mean, baby? This isn’t a bad doll. It’s a very nice doll.”
“Mamma, I heard it talk. It said, ‘Devil’.”
The mother laughed.
“Honey, this doll didn’t talk. Your imagination is too wild.”
“It did too talk, Mamma. I heard it. She said, ‘Devil’. When Bingo had it, she called for the Devil to come and help her. I’m scared of it. Throw it away.”
The mother looked at her daughter, then Rosie.
“Okay, if you don’t want her, I’ll throw her away. What about the other one, do you want her?”
The girl shook her head.
“No. They’re both evil. They talked to each other.”
The mother chuckled, reached for Devin, tucked them both under her arm, and turned to leave.
“Okay, sweetie. You go back to bed. Sweet dreams.” She reached for the light.
“No. Leave the light on, Mamma. I’m scared. I’m afraid the Devil will come looking for the dolls.”
The mother paused. “Okay, but only for tonight. You’re too old to sleep with the light on.”
The mother closed the door behind her.
As the woman past the living room, the man was laughing at the antics of a game show host on television. A commercial came on just as she walked by. He glanced up and watched as she entered the kitchen, stopped at the garbage can, stepped on the lever that opened the lid, and dropped the dolls in.
“Hey! Why are you throwing the dolls away?” he asked.
“She won’t play with them. She says they’re haunted. She says she heard one of them yell for the Devil.”
The man laughed and shook his head.
“Kids,” he mumbled and returned his attention toward the show that had resumed.
Bingo
sniffed at the garbage can.
6
Out with the trash
“Gross. It stinks in here.” Rosie struggled to disentangle her foot from a half-eaten burrito. Meanwhile, Devin had leaned several beer bottles along the side of the trash can.
“What are you doing?” Rosie asked her.
“I’m piling the bottles up so when they go to bed, we can climb out of here.”
Bingo whined and scratched at the side of the can.
“Shush, keep your voice down. That damn dog is out there.”
The man’s voice boomed from the other room.
“Get the dog away from the trash.”
The woman’s voice quickly followed.
“Why don’t you just take the trash out?”
Light flooded them as the trash can lid was lifted. The bag was cinched closed and once again, they were in near darkness. As the man yanked the bag out of the can, they tumbled against each other and the garbage.
“Take the trash out,” the man mumbled as he carried the bag. “Walk the dog. Fix this. Fix that. A man can’t even rest in his own home.”
Suddenly, they were weightless and sent hurling through the air. They landed with a crash, as bottles in the bag broke, then all was silent.
“You okay?” Devin asked.
Rosie adjusted her glasses.
“Yeah, I guess. You?” A soft glimmer of light snuck through the top of the bag, enough that Rosie could see Devin, who’d landed sideways beneath a bottle and a tin container that held remnants of mac n’ cheese. She pushed the bottle off her, stood and peeled a yellow noodle from her veil. Liquid from inside the bottle had poured down the front of her tunic.
“Gross,” she said. “We need to find new clothes. I’m sick of wearing this dress.”
“Oh fine. Let’s go shopping for new outfits,” Rosie said. “I’m sure you have plenty of credit cards on you. Oh, wait. Maybe they have a line of miniature Devin’s Devils outfits here we could try on.”
Devin tilted her head. “Hilarious.”
She eyed the top of the bag. “Here. Boost me up.”
