by Lani Lenore
“What?” he questioned, leaning back a bit to look at her face, but not releasing his hold on her.
“I won’t,” she repeated. “Not in front of them. Not again.”
Them? She was embarrassed of being watched by lifeless toys?
Todd faltered a moment. Then he pulled back his head and laughed, unable to contain it. All around the room, tiny eyes watched him, their faces expressionless in their disapproval. All too suddenly and unnaturally, his amusement turned to anger. His gaze jerked back to her, flames lapping in his eyes.
“These things–these objects–are more important to you than the living?” he asked roughly, his voice rising.
Olivia refused to answer or even look at him then.
“They aren’t real, Olivia,” he explained, his tone insanely calm. “They aren’t alive like you and me. They don’t talk, or breathe. They don’t have lives to waste away in a room with toys!”
Todd pulled himself off of her, striding quickly to the wall shelf to examine the spread of porcelain–faced dolls. The first that caught his eye was in a green dress with curly red hair, and he lifted her up carefully, looking into her green eyes of glass.
“What has this one told you to call her?” he asked, staring at the doll as if trying to figure out the answer to the question before she could give it.
“Beth,” whispered Olivia, staring at Todd with wild eyes like a hunted animal. He liked that look for her.
“And what does Beth like?’ he wondered aloud.
Olivia didn’t speak for a moment, her worried eyes not leaving the doll.
“She likes tea parties and cakes,” the girl said. That was not the answer he was looking for.
“No!” Todd shouted, finally losing his temper.
“Don’t hurt her, please,” Olivia begged, her voice choked.
“Your friend Beth isn’t real. She’s not alive! She feels nothing,” he screamed at her, not bothering to be gentle.
“Please, put her down.”
Olivia’s eyes never left the toy, and Todd, realizing this, stared back at her, lowering the doll to his side. She wasn’t even listening to him. She was only interested in the doll, staring at it like it was floating through the air without his hand’s aid! How could she think this way? What was inside her mind that would not allow her release from these beliefs?
He let the doll fall from his grasp then–watched Olivia as her gaze followed it to the floor. The smooth head hit the wood planks with a thud, but did not break, and he saw that Olivia was immediately relieved. The girl wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees, tucking herself away from him.
“Please leave now,” she urged, shutting him out.
Todd stood quietly a moment, and then took a few steps toward the door, but his violent mind got the best of him. He stopped. He had his theories about her condition, and had his thoughts about how she’d get on the road to recovery. By taking away her toys, perhaps she would be forced to accept reality and leave her fantasy world. Yet no one would take her dolls away; it was time someone did.
Olivia stared at the wall, not looking toward him as he slowly picked up his foot. He put the sole of his boot quietly on Beth’s white face, pushing down with the weight of his leg slowly and carefully, keeping his eyes on Olivia as a soft cracking sound began to touch his ears.
She heard it too, her eyes growing wider as she looked towards the floor.
“Please stop,” she asked him calmly, though her face was full of distress.
Her voice was firm, almost demanding. The emotion flowing from her eyes was not able to take over her voice. She stared, glued to the innocent head under the boot, slowly caving in slightly and unnaturally. He pressed harder.
“Stop…”
The gentle face split from the forehead to the chin, following along the right contour of the nose. The crack that had formed then began to grind outward against itself until finally it caved in completely, cracking off in different directions and breaking apart into pieces.
Todd did not try to hide his sadistic smile.
3
The whole act happened in just a few short seconds, though for Olivia, the ages it seemed to take as she took in every detail of the horror would always remain with her. The sound was gradual and light at first, reminding Olivia of the eggs that were cooked at breakfast time, yet this sound wasn’t pleasing. She knew no good would come from it. The girl flinched as she watched the doll’s worried face grow longer beneath his foot, but nothing could drive Olivia to move, fearing her action would hurt Beth more.
I cannot save you. I’m so sorry…
After the final shattering and the horrible sound reached her ears, she turned her face away from the sight, cringing, unable to look.
“Olivia,” Todd said, calling for her attention. The sound of his voice sickened her. “It’s for the best.”
She raised her eyes to his, and to her surprise, he was at the wall again, tugging at a shelf of dolls and puppets to pull them down to their doom. He was aiming to commit further acts of murder.
“Please,” she begged, but her words were unheard over the sounds of the wood of the shelf cracking. Olivia did not know what to do. All her concepts of going to war to defend love were hypocritical now.
Beneath his firm insistence, the shelf gave way and fell, the dolls rolling off of it, hitting their heads on a large chest before they collapsed on the floor, some shattering. Olivia jumped up, surprised and shocked by the mass murder taking place before her eyes. What was he trying to prove to her? What kind of devil had possessed him?
“Stop this!” she screamed, finally gathering the strength to stand up. “Stop!”
“Why?” he demanded. “So they can keep you in this state? Tell me: why do these dolls have your love? What have they done for you?”
The girl could think of nothing to say. It wasn’t about what they had done for her, it was what she could do for them. She was the only one who understood them. He had no right to take their lives. They had done nothing to him.
“Leave them alone please,” she asked. “Just leave.”
“Leave?” he countered. “I’ll leave when you answer my question.”
His angry eyes searched the room over, finally falling on the bed. She didn’t know what he was looking at, and by the time she had realized what he was doing, it was too late for her to stop him. He snatched up the nutcracker from the quilt where she’d left him unattended.
No!
She grasped at Todd’s arm, but he threw her off easily. Felling helpless, she stood back, hiding her face behind her clasped hands in worry.
“Don’t hurt him,” she pleaded, tears gathering at the edges of her vision.
She was like a lovesick maiden who wished to reach out and touch the fingertips of her lover’s ghost. Olivia longed for the nutcracker, though she’d only come to have him a few short hours ago.
“Tell me then,” Todd inquired. “What does he have that’s so special? So important–so valuable that you would care about him more than me, Anne, your own family? What?”
When she didn’t speak her defense, Todd wrapped his fingers around the nutcracker’s leg, and he did not wait for her to protest. With a malicious snap, he broke the wooden limb away, dropping it to the floor.
Olivia screamed, putting her hands to her ears in sheer horror and lowered herself to the ground. The wood snapping was as ghastly as a human bone in her mind, because that was just the way she viewed it. Todd dropped the nutcracker onto the floor, leaving her to stare at the broken toy. Quickly, she swooped to retrieve him.
Olivia looked down at the red liquid on her hands that only she could see. The blood covered the nutcracker, dripping off of his detached leg.
4
Anne stared at herself in the round mirror in her own room, smoothing her hair down and looking for any evidence of tiredness around her eyes.
So tired, Anne. Don’t you ever sleep? She sent this inquiry silently to her
reflection, but received no answer.
She was grateful for any moment of peace she had from Olivia, but even now, she could hear muted voices from the attic room above. The girl was playing with her dolls, no doubt, giving them voices in different tones. If Anne hadn’t known better, she might have guessed that there were actually two people above her having a conversation, but of course that could not be true. Olivia was secure. She would not come out, and who would bother to visit her?
Fleetingly, Anne let herself imagine the family downstairs, and how they would lounge about now, truly enjoying the house, and certainly not being bothered by someone of lower birth, such as herself. She was not invited to join them, and so all that was left for her to do was ready herself to turn in for the night. Of course, only after she had examined every pore.
Anne found herself to be as decent as she’d been this morning, but she constantly swore that Olivia would be the cause of premature gray hair.
Thinking that, her mind wandered back to other things. What had Todd been on about after dinner? What right did he have to be on her case about Olivia? He hadn’t even seemed like himself. When he’d begun to talk about the girl, as if he knew what was best. Anne knew Olivia–much better than she wanted–and the girl could not be saved. Honestly, Anne would be pleased when Todd went back where he come from–
What? Her eyes shot upward. It sounds of distress above. A whale of sadness and a loud crash had startled her, thoughts ceasing as she jumped in her skin.
Olivia. That was her only thought, and it was enough to get her moving.
Anne dashed from her room, feeling the key in her pocket as she took to the stairs. She would have to admit that she had felt a short jolt of panic, followed by an instant need to protect her charge, but she told herself. Now that it was false instincts. She rushed to the girl because it was her job to do so, and that was that.
Anne reached the attic hallway, and hadn’t realized that William and his brother author were following behind her until she burst through the door, where she was confronted with the site she certainly hadn’t expected.
Broken dolls were scattered all across the floor, Olivia was kneeling down in distress, and there are with her was Todd. What was he doing? Anne was at once ashamed and suspicious, but she made no accusations.
“What’s happened?” William demanded from behind her, and she waited for either party to give an answer.
“I came to say goodnight,” said Todd, sounding shaken, “but she wanted me to play with her, and when I told her I had to go, she started breaking all her things and screaming like this. She’s gone completely mad!”
Anne walked to Olivia, touching the girl’s arm as she stooped over one of her toys. Anne could see that it was the nutcracker. She just received, his leg snapped off.
“It’s alright,” Anne promised the trembling girl, but without a hint of sympathy. “It will all be alright now.”
“He’s bleeding,” Olivia uttered, not seeming to hear Anne at all, directing her words at Todd. “He’s bleeding! Look what you’ve done!”
The young man did not answer, merely shaking his head as he watched her. She quickly lost interest in him.
“He’s a wounded solider,” she mourned quietly.
“What the devil is she talking about?” asked Arthur. Anne would guess that they had been smoking in the study when they’d heard the screams.
William, more than a little embarrassed, gave a look of disapproval.
“I’m sorry she acted this way, Todd,” he said. “Anne will calm her down. No need to worry ourselves about it.”
He ushered the others out of the room, turning back to Anne with a stern look that she had never seen in his eyes before. She wanted to apologize to him, but she didn’t get the chance.
“Take care of this,” he commanded, and she knew he was serious. He wanted no more outbursts.
Anne looked at him a moment in surprise, blankly. How many times had he ever spoken to her that way? His severity startled her, and she was suddenly reminded of her place in this house. Their affair aside, she was merely here to work.
“Yes, sir,” she relented, lowering her eyes as he left the room.
The nurse looked at Olivia, who still watched the nutcracker doll sorrowfully, clearly having forgotten about all the other broken toys.
“We don’t like disruptions, Olivia,” Anne told her lowly. “Everyone is disappointed in you.”
Though it had been her sole intention to hurt Olivia’s feelings, the girl said nothing.
“I’m going to lock you in for a while now, and I don’t want to hear another word.”
Anne moved towards the door, but suddenly Olivia jerked back to her, staring at Anne with her watery eyes.
“Please take him to be fixed,” she begged, handing up the nutcracker and his leg to Anne. “Take him to uncle. He’ll fix him.”
Anne sighed, wondering why she should even be bothered to do this. The girl’s outburst had gotten her into trouble, but, if getting the toy fixed would keep the girl quiet for the rest of the night and assure that William–No, Mr. Ellington–was not upset, then it would be done.
The nanny nodded, though still keeping her disapproving stare, and turned to go, locking Olivia away in the silence with one final sentiment.
“Don’t cut yourself,” she warned. “I’ll be back soon to clean up your mess.”
5
Anne was flustered and dismayed as she left the attic room. Her mind was full of reflections on William’s harsh looks and the disappointment in his voice. She had one responsibility in this house, and that was keeping Olivia in line. If she allowed the girl to act out like that, the Ellingtons would lose faith in the idea that she could do the job they’d entrusted her with, and it would be back to the gutter with her. She had to keep that control established, and this was not the way to do it.
But it’s odd. The whole thing is.
Olivia was not usually violent like that, though she’d occasionally have a tantrum or crying fit. This outburst didn’t seem right. Anne wondered, secretly, if Todd had done more than what he’d said in wishing Olivia goodnight, but she decided that this aspect was out of her hands. This didn’t affect her own situation, or how William must have been thinking of her now.
I just need to be sure that it doesn’t happen again.
As she walked slowly down the creaking stairs, Anne observed the broken nutcracker in her grasp, his body in one hand and his broken leg in the other. She had never cared too much for toys herself. To her, they were what separated her from Olivia. Anne lived in an adult world and Olivia did not. She had no use for dolls–perhaps only because she had never been granted many of her own growing up–but she had to admit that the soldier in her grasp was more than a little bit interesting.
The nutcracker was certainly not new in make, but he was masterfully carved. His face was done with such detail and was smooth with polish. The long white hair was of such high quality that she might swear it was from a human head. He was anatomically correct, and every part of his decorative suit was meticulously engraved.
He’s almost real, she thought to herself, lifting him up a bit to peer into his hollow eyes. Almost real enough.
Weighing his body in her hands, she turned her attention to the broken leg. Would Olivia have done this, even in a fit of anger? She loved her toys more than anything else.
Olivia had said that he was bleeding, but as Anne peered down at him, she didn’t see anything at all.
She had almost passed the toymaker’s room before she had realized it, looking down as she was. This room had always unsettled her, even more than Olivia’s, but the nanny had never been given much reason to go inside, and that suited her well. All the glass eyes watching her was one thing alone, but the pieces of the unfinished toys disturbed her more. The heads without bodies, staring at her…
Perhaps he’s not even here. He could be downstairs.
“Did you need something, Anne?” She detected the th
ump of the cane only after hearing his voice, and she jumped in surprise. Euan had approached her–stringy hair, crooked spine, and with a patch over one eye. Anne couldn’t see how he didn’t frighten the children. He certainly frightened her. His one eye traveled downward, and he was quick to notice the nutcracker in her grasp.
“Oh, what’s happened?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there,” Anne said dismissively, crossing her arms after she’d handed over the pieces of the nutcracker “Can you fix it?”
Euan stared at the broken nutcracker, and Anne thought she saw a mixture of sadness and confusion on his worn face, but she could not trouble herself with that.
“Yes,” he said finally–absently. “I’ll deliver it back to her later.”
The man who seemed so old to Anne–though he was not much older than his brother William–opened the door of his darkened room. Freezing air rolled out, but Anne did not see inside before she turned away abruptly, and he pulled the way shut.
6
After a while, once the house had quieted, Euan knocked twice on Olivia’s door before he entered without admittance, using his key. He knew she wouldn’t protest, for he knew he was always welcome here, even in her worst moods.
He found her just as he had expected to, sitting on the bed, cross–legged on the mattress in her night dress. Her long hair was loose and draped over her shoulders, her watery eyes staring down at the ballerina that danced in front of her. She’d heard him come in, but she didn’t lift her eyes, simply laying the doll long–ways across her legs.
“Why did Todd hurt them?” Olivia asked. “They did nothing.”
“Todd was just upset,” Euan said gently, already suspecting the truth that Todd had been the one to break the dolls. Olivia hadn’t done this. He knew the girl–knew her limits and her mind. Euan only regretted that he’d not noticed the young man’s absence from the hall sooner.
“He didn’t mean to hurt your dolls,” Euan said, merely trying to make her feel at ease.
“Yes, he did,” Olivia said, her words forceful. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
