Return to Doll Island

by Ocean

Rosie looked up from the book. “This is really hard to memorize.”

  “I know it is, but you can do it. Concentrate.”

  Rosie focused on the words, taking her time to enunciate each syllable slowly.

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak.”

  Devin laughed. “That sounds like mosquito.”

  “This is so not the time for jokes, Devin.”

  Devin’s smile fell away. “Sorry. You’re doing great, keep practicing.”

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak. Mozzubee.”

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak. Mozzubee bahaba.”

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak. Mozzubee bahaba bangoo.”

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak. Mozzubee bahaba bangoo. Dooha.”

  “Is that it?” Devin asked.

  Rosie exhaled and swiped at a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. She felt as if she’d just completed a marathon. A mental marathon.

  “That’s it,” she said. “How can it be that a doll sweats?”

  “Okay, say it again. You’ve got to make sure you have it memorized. Otherwise, if anything happens to that book,” Devin pointed to the book, “we’re screwed.”

  Rosie spoke the words.

  “Chagga zee. Morung, I mean morang,” she started over. “Chagga zee morang witchabak. Nosquito witchabak. Mozzubee bababa, I mean bahaba.”

  She released a sigh of frustration.

  “I don’t think I can do this Devin.”

  “You’ve already done it. Twice, you’ve cast spells, Rosie. You can do this.”

  “The others were much shorter. And I read them. And this is much more important. To us. I’m afraid I’m going to fail when it really counts.”

  Devin gripped her arm and stared into her eyes.

  “Rosie,” she said. “You’re doing great. You’re going to do this. For us. Start over again. Close your eyes, concentrate.”

  As Rosie gazed into Devin’s eyes, the two colorful circles that so powerfully mesmerized her, she allowed the words that Devin spoke to sink into her brain. It was as if some magical ability that resided inside Devin were being transferred to her. In the spot where her heart would be, she felt fears and doubts wither, replaced with confidence and courage.

  Rosie closed her eyes.

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak. Mozzubee bahaba bangoo. Dooha.”

  When she said the final word, a rush of relief flooded her.

  Maybe I can do this after all.

  “Now, say it again, but this time add the, ‘I command a reverse’ and say our names part,” Devin said.

  Rosie repeated the words, adding, ‘I command a reverse Devin and Naomi,’ to the end.

  Devin pumped her fists. “Perfect! Now, will you do one more thing for me?”

  Rosie realized her shoulders had been tensed and were lifted up toward her ears. She allowed them to drop.

  “What?” she answered.

  “Say it one more time, but this time instead of simply saying the words, say them like you mean it. Say it like it matters. Say it the way the Mambo chanted when she spoke the time travel spell. As if it’s a matter of life or death, because,” she paused. “Rosie, it is.”

  Rosie stood, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and repeated the phrases, but this time she willed a power to rise from her chest, a power she’d never felt before, never knew she had. This time she said the words with a force as if each syllable would have the strength to reverse their souls back into their bodies. She said it, as if it mattered because she knew, it did.

  “Chagga zee. Morang witchabak. Nosquito Witchabak. Mozzubee bahaba bangoo. Dooha! I command a reverse Rosie and Ria!”

  The ground trembled. Just lightly, it only lasted a few seconds, but the shaking of the earth beneath her feet caused her to tumble to the ground. In the distance, a dog barked. Voices rose from inside the tents.

  “What was that?”

  “Was that an earthquake?”

  “Did I do that?” Rosie whispered and pressed her fingertips against her lips.

  Devin lay prone, spread out on the ground. A wide grin crossed her face.

  “I think so.” She sat up. “Here sit. We’ll wait a little while longer and as soon as everyone is asleep, we’ll make our move.”

  They sat in silence and waited. Other than an occasional burst of laughter from inside one of the tents, the only sound was the gentle motion of the waves as they curled onto the beach. The sounds of animal life that they’d heard the last time they were on the island, were gone.

  The minutes dragged.

  Rosie stared toward the dark night sky. Stars twinkled between gray clouds.

  “Devin, when we get our bodies back, what’s the first thing you’re going to do?” She realized it was the first time she’d said, ‘when we get our bodies back,’ not ‘if.’

  “Hmm…” Devin’s eyes also turned upward toward the star-scattered sky while she thought. “The first thing I’m going to do? I hadn’t really thought about that. Definitely get far away from this place.”

  Rosie nodded.

  “And then, some good food, good wine.” Devin stopped abruptly and turned toward Rosie. “No. The first thing I’m going to do is to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been through a horrible ordeal, and it’s my fault.”

  “It’s not all your fault,” Rosie said.

  “Yes, it is. I insisted you go on a date with me when you didn’t want to. I tricked you into coming here. If you knew I’d planned a picnic on this island, you’d never have gone with me, would you?”

  “That’s true.”

  “It is all my fault, and I accept full responsibility. It’s time I grew up and take ownership of the consequences of my actions. I can’t keep avoiding responsibility or paying someone to take care of things when I screw up, just because I can.”

  “I wish we could pay someone to get us out of this,” Rosie said.

  “Me too, but that’s not the point.”

  “I understand. So, yeah, I guess it is all your fault.” She nudged Devin.

  “I’m serious,” Devin said. “I hope you know how sorry I am. Do you?”

  “Yes, I think I do.”

  “I can’t have you only thinking you know. I need to make sure you know how sorry I am. I plan to spend a long time making up for this.” A smile crept across her face. “And that will include a lot of good food and good wine. And what about you? What’s the first thing you want to do when you get back in your own body?”

  “I want to go home. I want to be back in my cozy apartment, curled up with Itchy and reading or knitting. I want my boring, simple life back. And I’ll never step foot on another island again.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “Not even Martha’s Vineyard?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hawaii?”

  “Nope.”

  “Australia?”

  “Australia is a continent, so yeah, maybe.”

  Devin rested a hand on Rosie’s forearm.

  “You’ll get your quiet life back, I promise.”

  Rosie chuckled.

  “You and your promises. Look where they’ve got us.”

  There was a twinkle in Devin’s eye.

  “I know. But you wanted an adventure, and you have to admit, you certainly got one.”

  “I never said I wanted an adventure. My friends insisted–”

  Devin squeezed her arm, cutting her sentence short.

  “Look.” She pointed to the big tent.

  “They just dimmed the light. Let’s go take a look.”

  Rosie squeezed the book. They stood and tip-toed toward the dimly lit tent.

  37

  Peeping nuns

  Rosie and Devin cautiously made their way across the campsite. From inside one of the nearby tents came the growl of a dog, and they froze.

  “Brutus. Down,” came a command, an
d the growling stopped.

  Rosie and Devin approached the larger tent that Ria and Naomi had disappeared into. The door had been zipped tightly closed, allowing no light to escape or provide an opportunity for them to peer inside. There was one tiny window on the side wall of the tent. It was about five feet off the ground. Devin pointed to it.

  Rosie kept her voice to a low hush.

  “How are we supposed to get up there?”

  Devin searched their surroundings. Her gaze rested on one of the folding chairs that Ria and Naomi had been sitting on during the interview.

  “There. One of those chairs. Help me drag it,” Devin’s voice matched the rushed, hush of Rosie’s.

  Rosie placed the book down and they waddled to one of the chairs. They each grabbed a leg and tugged, dragging it across the sandy beach until it was under the window. Devin scrambled up but was still inches shy of being able to look inside the tent.

  “Darn. Come here and help me.” She waved her hands, motioning for Rosie to join her.

  Rosie scrambled up the chair.

  “Let me get on your shoulders,” Devin said.

  “What? I can’t hold you on my shoulders. What do you think I am, a trapeze artist?”

  “Yes, you can. You’re a plastic doll. You’ll be able to hold my weight. Remember? I stood on your back before, no problem. Come on, get over here. Put your hands together to make a step for me.”

  Rosie placed the book on the chair, stood as close to the tent as possible, interwove her fingers, and bent forward. Devin gripped her shoulders for support, stepped into Rosie’s hands and with a slight leap, jumped up onto Rosie’s shoulders. For a few seconds they teetered, side to side.

  “Whoa,” Devin whispered. “Stay still.”

  “I’m trying,” Rosie muttered. She gripped the back of the chair to steady herself. Surprisingly, Devin was right. The weight of Devin on her was not difficult at all. But balancing, that was a challenge. Rosie gripped tightly onto one of Devin’s ankles with one hand and the back of the chair with the other. She peered up but was surrounded in darkness as the bottom hem of Devin’s skirt encircled her face.

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “They’re just sitting and talking,” Devin said. “You look great, by the way. That hair cut is very attractive on you. Not that you didn’t look great before, but I mean–”

  “Okay fine, whatever. Just tell me what’s going on,” Rosie said.

  “I’m, I mean Naomi, just put her cigarette out. Now she’s standing. She’s walking toward you, I mean, toward Ria. Ria just stood. They’re, um, they’re ah…” She grew silent.

  “Well? They’re what?” Rosie shuffled forward and backward, trying to accommodate the slight movements of Devin’s body. “Stay still and quit moving.”

  “Damn it,” Devin said.

  “Damn it, what?”

  “They’re kissing. Like really kissing as in heavy making out. Naomi is unbuttoning your shirt.”

  “What?!” Rosie took a step backward.

  “I’m walking you toward the bed. I mean Naomi is walking you, I mean, Ria, toward the bed. Shit. I think they’re going to have sex.”

  “Oh, goodness.” A flash of warmth flooded Rosie’s cheeks.

  “That does it. I’m putting an end to this right now,” Devin said. “I haven’t even had sex with you yet. She’s not–”

  “Hey!” Rosie slapped the side of Devin’s ankle.

  “I’m sorry. What I mean is, we haven’t even…They can’t…Damn. You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Rosie said.

  “Let me down. I’m going in there.”

  Rosie took a step back and suddenly the weight that had been on her shoulders was gone.

  A grunt came from Devin at the same time her skirt flew off from Rosie’s head. Rosie looked up and saw Devin hanging, her fingertips clinging to the thin mosquito netting of the window.

  The first sound Devin made was the word, “Rosie.” But before Rosie could move, the second sound of, “Uh-oh,” came from Devin followed by the noise of netting as it ripped. Devin tumbled down, knocking the chair, Rosie, and the book to the ground with her as she fell. The chair banged against the side of the tent.

  Rosie and the book both lay in the sand. She reached for the book but before she could grab it, the distinct whir of a zipper as it was yanked from bottom to top caused her to pause.

  38

  I see your threat and raise you

  Devin was on her feet first. She marched with a firm air of authority toward the front of the tent. If it wasn’t such a serious situation, Rosie would’ve laughed at the sight of a pissed off miniature nun stomping with such an intense purpose. She scooped up the book and hustled behind Devin.

  “Who’s out there?” came a voice from the front of the canvas.

  Devin stepped from the side of the tent. Rosie shadowed her.

  “It’s us,” Devin said. She stood defiantly with her legs splayed wide, and her arms crossed.

  “Oh, shit.” Ria stood before them with her unbuttoned shirt gaped open. She turned, retreated into the tent, and as she struggled to pull the zipper down, yelled to Naomi.

  “It’s them!” There was a frantic urgency to her voice.

  Devin scooted through the opening of the tent and held the canvas while Rosie hustled through.

  Ria stopped trying to zip the door and backed away from Rosie and Devin. In her hurry, she bumped into a small table where a gasoline lantern was perched. The table and the lantern wobbled. Naomi hustled, grabbed the lantern, steadied it, then winced and quickly pulled her hands away from the hot glass.

  “What do you want?” she demanded as she shook her injured hands. Ria hurriedly buttoned her shirt.

  “What do you think we want?” Devin said. “We want our bodies back.”

  Naomi laughed.

  “If you think that’s going to happen, not only are you small, plastic dolls, you’re also crazy.”

  “What you did to us was horrible,” Rosie shouted. She knew she had spoken the words, and felt the anger behind them, but it wasn’t her voice. It was the voice of a doll’s, and the words that came out reminded her of something a character in a Disney cartoon would say.

  “We’re sorry, but we were desperate,” Ria said as she cautiously took a few steps back and positioned herself behind Naomi. Rosie watched as Ria’s words came out of her own body. It was her body but Ria’s voice. It was strange having an argument with herself. “We’d been in doll bodies for almost three hundred years. In those stupid nun bodies for over fifty,” Ria’s words had a pleading urgency to them.

  Devin stepped forward, placing herself between Rosie and Naomi. “And you’re about to be sent back into them.”

  “Ha! If you think we’re going to let you waltz up to our lips and do the change, you’re out of your minds,” Naomi said. “We have a huge advantage over you. First, we know what you want so it’s not like you can trick or surprise us like we did to you. Second, we’re a lot bigger than you. We’ll tear you limb from limb and drop each body part into the ocean at different spots of the world. You’ll never be able to put yourselves together. Your souls will be destined to float through eternity without having a body. As bad as those nun bodies are, it’s better than not having one at all.”

  Naomi crossed her arms and tossed a smug nod in Ria’s direction.

  “That wouldn’t be a bad plan,” Devin said, “except for one thing you didn’t count on.”

  A solitary eyebrow raised on Naomi’s face. “And that would be?”

  “Show her Rosie,” Devin said.

  Rosie held up the book.

  Naomi’s arms uncrossed. Her hands fell to her sides. A look of surprise flashed across her face. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched tightly together as the muscles in her jaw tensed. Only her lips moved.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “That,” Devin said, “is none of your business. The fact is, we have it, and
we also know how to reverse the curse.”

  Ria and Naomi exchanged wide-eyed glances. It was odd, watching her body and Devin’s interact. It wasn’t them, she knew, and yet, it was. It was as if she were watching her body in a movie.

  A horror movie.

  Naomi reached for one of the gas lamps and removed the glass top. She held the open flame near her face.

  “The moment you speak the first word of that curse, Devin’s face will be burned beyond recognition. If you want your body back, you’ll have it. But your face will be scarred beyond anything that resembles human. You’ll spend the rest of your life with a face that looks like one of the burnt tree stumps out there.”

  Devin clenched her fists tight and took a step forward. Her lips curled back like those of a wounded animal about to strike.

  “Don’t you dare do anything to my face!”

  Naomi took a step back. The palm of her free hand flashed toward Devin.

  “Stop right there or the burning starts right now. And I’ll begin with the eyes.”

  Devin kept firm eye contact with Naomi. Rosie looked back and forth between the two of them. Neither blinked and neither backed down.

  “Rosie, don’t listen to her. Say the chant.” Devin’s voice was solid, stern. “Swap your soul with Ria’s. I don’t care about myself. All that matters is that you get back into your own body.”

  Naomi moved the flame closer to her face. The fire reflected a yellow glow on her skin.

  “Devin. I, I can’t. I…” The words wouldn’t come out Rosie’s mouth. There was a tightness in her chest, her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Rosie! Say it!” Devin screamed.

  39

  Let’s get to the bottom of this

  “Rosie, just do it. Say the chant!” Devin demanded.

  Rosie trembled. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and reviewed the words in her mind. But images flashed before her, interrupting her ability to concentrate on the words. Images of Devin laughing when they’d first met on the boat. That mischievous smile that melted Rosie’s heart. Devin comforting her after she’d fallen into the marsh. Devin sharing her hopes and dreams with her. Her beautiful face, mesmerizing eyes, infectious smile.