Naughty or Nice

by Barbra Annino

  The story about the sisters was taking shape, the characters springing to life on the page right before her eyes. She could hear them talking in her head, could see their faces as if they were right there in the room with her. The grogginess and queasiness she had felt that morning were long gone, replaced by an energy she didn’t understand but welcomed all the same.

  Just after nightfall she heard her name.

  Julia.

  She got up from her desk and opened the door to her office, sticking her head out.

  “Hello? I’m in here.”

  No one answered, although she thought she heard the television. Someone must have come home. Maybe one of the kids had called her name.

  Julia stood and stretched, realizing she hadn’t showered all day. She left her laptop on, thinking that she may have some time after dinner to get back to writing and stepped toward the door. Then she hesitated. She felt something. A primal instinct that told her she wasn’t alone. That she was being watched.

  She spun around to find a bird on the windowsill darting back and forth as if it couldn’t decide which way to fly.

  Julia shook her head and said, “Get a grip.”

  When she turned back, she looked at Toby.

  The doll stared vacantly off into space.

  She approached it with interest, wondering if her new office mate was the reason for her inspired writing session or if it was just the surreal dreams and the caffeine.

  She decided to give Toby a second chance and twisted the crank.

  He slowly came to life, lifting his head and his quill. The doll dipped the quill into the ink, his eyes following the motion of his hands. Slowly, he began scratching out a note on the scroll as he had done the other night when she had first taken him out of the box.

  She braced herself before she bent over to read the page.

  “You can handle this. It’s just a toy.”

  When she read the white slip of paper, she gasped.

  My name is Toby.

  ***

  Julia backed out of her office slowly, her eyes glued to Toby. She turned, and dashed down the hall into her bedroom. She rushed to splash cold water on her face and stared at herself in the mirror for a long while, trying to convince her reflection that there must be some kind of mistake. That she wasn’t crazy.

  The door to the bedroom creaked open and Dane was suddenly standing in the doorway, still dressed in his work clothes.

  “There you are,” he said. “I was just coming to get you. The kids want pizza, so I thought—”

  He stopped and looked at her carefully. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  Julia studied Dane for a moment. The man she loved. The man she had married. The man she trusted more than anyone in this world.

  Would he play a trick on her this cruel?

  But then she remembered Ron and Dane’s promise to ask his uncle to reprogram the automaton.

  “Did you ask your uncle to change the message on the machine?”

  He gave her a confused look. “Why would I do that?” Then he seemed to gain some comprehension. “You mean the doll? No, I didn’t. I thought you said you wanted to wait until after the holidays.”

  “Yes, that’s right, I did.”

  Should she tell him? What would she say? What if she had only imagined what was on that piece of paper?

  Her husband stared at her expectantly.

  “Come on,” she said with a waiver of uncertainty. “I want to show you something.”

  Julia grabbed Dane’s hand and led him down the hallway, around the corner and into her office. She pointed to the automaton. “Look.”

  Dane swung his head toward the doll. “What?”

  “Just look at the page. Look what he wrote.”

  Dane gave her a funny look, but he acquiesced and walked toward Toby. He bent his dark head down, his hair falling in wisps across his forehead like a spider’s web.

  “I don’t see anything, honey.”

  “What?”

  Julia stepped over to the machine and looked down to examine the scroll.

  Dane was right. There was nothing on the page.

  Oh my God. It’s happening again.

  Or was it? Because it didn’t feel like last time. Julia felt completely present. She felt like herself except for the bout of nausea this morning and the energy burst earlier that day. She felt normal.

  But if that was the case, then how could she explain this? And the voice she kept hearing, calling to her.

  They both stood silently for several minutes.

  Finally, Dane said, “Have you eaten anything today?”

  “Toast. This morning.”

  “That’s all?” Dane let out a disappointed sigh. As if she were a child. Or a complete burden.

  “Come on, you. Shower and then downstairs for dinner.” He opened the door and waved his arm for Julia to take the lead.

  She obliged. Perhaps he was right. Maybe she was imagining things. People can get pretty kooky when they’ve gone without food or sleep for too long, and she had had little of both over the past few days.

  At least that’s what she told herself then as she followed her husband down the hallway.

  In the dark, under the covers, in the soft light of the moon that shone through the sheer curtains of her marital bedroom as her husband slept peacefully next to her, she told herself something completely different.

  She told herself that she had to pull it together. She refused to go down that drain of darkness ever again. She refused to let the monsters win.

  Chapter 10

  He, Dane thought. Julia had referred to that hunk of metal as a ‘he.’ As if it were real, made of flesh and blood and bones. What did that mean? Was his wife on the edge? Was she finally about to snap?

  Over the next few days he watched her closely. She made a big show of feigning normalcy. She smiled at him confidently as they sat at the dinner table, as they readied for bed, as she went off to work in her office on whatever it was she was working on, shutting herself in there for hours on end, banging away at her keyboard. He used to love that sound.

  Now it was the sound of desperation. It made him uneasy. Like there was a bacteria growing in his home and there was no pesticide that could flush it out.

  He told himself that everything was going to work out just the way he wanted it to, just the way he had planned, and he focused on his job. He scheduled meetings, kept his appointments, worried about the drugs in his town, the crime, the economy. Anything to keep his mind off of Julia.

  His mother breezed into the office one day insisting they lunch together. Dane agreed, dreading the conversation he knew they were about to have.

  “Something’s wrong with that girl, Dane, you have to do something about her,” she said over a glass of Pinot Gris and smoked salmon. “Don’t let this thing get out of control before it’s too late.”

  “I’m handling it, Mother. It’s all under control.”

  “Yes, well, you better handle it faster. Get her some real help. We’ll say she has an alcohol problem and that we had to whisk her off to rehab. The public loves rehabilitated people. It gives them hope. Makes them feel all warm and fuzzy inside like they too can overcome their own problems.” She smiled.

  Her smile reminded Dane of a circus clown. Painted on for show purposes only.

  “She doesn’t have a drinking problem, Mother.”

  “What she does have won’t gain you any points in the polls.”

  Cynthia sipped her wine and eyed her son contemptuously. “Your father would have handled this far better, you know.”

  Dane kept his anger in check. “He’s not here, though, is he? Frankly, I’m more worried about my brother’s issues than my wife’s. I know all about his cash flow problem, Mother. It was stupid of you to keep it from me.”

  “Oh, please. There is no cash flow problem. He just needs to shut down that damned dump he calls a restaurant.”

  “But he won’t, and you know it.”

>   Dane stabbed his chicken with his fork, wondering for the umpteenth time how his twin could be so vastly different from him. He couldn’t afford to loan Nathan any more money and he told him so the last time he had asked. Then Julia had the gall to suggest another loan just the other day. She didn’t know about the three loans he had already granted his brother and he thought it best not to tell her. His brother’s heart, Dane realized, was bigger than his brains. Because what good did it do to try to help downtrodden people if they just brought you down with them?

  It made no sense to Dane.

  When he returned home that evening, Dane took care of a few things around the house, greeted his brother and his uncle, then went upstairs to change clothes. He found his wife in the shower, singing. He hadn’t heard Julia sing in months and his heart gave a little tug.

  “Julia.”

  She stopped singing instantly and shut off the water.

  “Hello?” There was a quiver in her voice that wasn’t there a moment ago.

  “I’m home. Just wanted to let you know.”

  She stuck her head out through the shower door, looking relieved. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Who else would it be?” he asked.

  Julia laughed and told him she’d be out in a minute.

  Dane discarded his suit and chose a pair of relaxed pants and a soft blue sweater to get comfortable in for the evening. He wasn’t in the mood for a run today. He slipped into loafers and waited for his wife to finish her shower. He wondered what she had done today. When was the last time she even left the house? He didn’t know.

  Julia was nestled in a cozy robe, a towel swathed around her head, when she entered the bedroom looking chipper and rosy-cheeked. She smiled at him and jumped on the bed, causing him to bounce. Then she planted a long, deep kiss on his lips.

  When his wife pulled back, Dane said, “You seem happy.”

  “I am! I’ve had the best couple of days.”

  Her energy level was at full throttle. She was vibrant and lively as she rattled on about the project she had been working on this week.

  “I really think I’ve made some great headway. In fact, it might be finished in another week or two.”

  “That’s terrific. I’d love to see it.”

  Julia tilted her head, considering his offer.

  “Okay, but it’s only a rough draft, so go easy on me.”

  “Don’t I always?” Dane said.

  Julia quickly dressed and the two of them went down the hall and into her office. The automaton was still perched next to her desk on a side table and Dane wondered if she had tried to operate it again. She wasn’t shaky today, so he thought that wasn’t very likely. Rather, she must have begun to look upon the writer boy, or Toby, as he had heard her call him, as the office mascot she had dubbed it to be.

  He watched her move the mouse and the screen on the laptop lit up.

  Dane was standing next to his wife, watching her intently. The smile fell from her face, replaced with an anxious twitter. “No,” she whispered.

  She banged on a few keys, floating the mouse over the mouse pad.

  “What? Did you forget to save the file?” Dane asked.

  “Hang on.” She cleared her throat and positioned herself in front of the screen, moved the mouse again and clicked a few keys on the laptop.

  “Julia, what is it? Let me see.”

  Julia turned, barricading herself in front of the computer. She gave a nervous laugh and rose her hand to her throat—her signature move whenever she was about to lie to him. “On second thought, I’m not ready to show you. It needs more work.”

  Dane sent his wife a suspicious look. “Let me see, Julia.”

  “No!”

  She tried to push him away, but he maneuvered around her.

  Dane heard a yelp escape from his wife, a drastic cry of anguish and confusion.

  On the screen, the entire length of the page, were only two words. Written over and over again.

  Help me.

  Chapter 11

  Julia backed away. “It’s not what you think, Dane, I swear. It must be some mistake. Some horrible mistake.”

  Dane approached his wife cautiously. “Honey, I think it’s time we visit the doctor.”

  Julia shook her head like a petulant child. “No. No, I’m fine.” She swung her head around the room, wild eyed, like a trapped animal.

  “Honey, it’s for your own good. Just let them run some tests.”

  Her face twisted in anger. “The kids. One of the kids must have been up here fooling around with my laptop.”

  Dane considered this. It was possible. But not probable. His niece and nephew were very well behaved. They knew not to come into Julia’s office.

  Dane decided to hear his wife out. He wanted to be reasonable. He wanted to play this as smooth as possible so that he wouldn’t alarm her any more than she already was. “Don’t you have a backup file?”

  The look on her face told him the answer to that question.

  “Julia—”

  “Wait! There is something.” She shuffled through some drawers on her desk and pulled out a plain red notebook. She handed it to Dane. “Look. This will prove I’ve been working this whole week.”

  Dane opened the notebook.

  On the first page was one sentence.

  Why did you leave me, Mommy?

  He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no mistaking that his wife had to go now. He had to take her to the hospital.

  “What? Let me see.” Julia snatched the notebook from Dane’s hands and read. Her eyes welled with tears and she began shaking uncontrollably. “No, Dane, I’m telling you, this had notes in it.”

  “Then what happened to them, Julia?” he asked gently.

  Julia was chewing her bottom lip, frantically searching for an answer. Finally she said, “Your mother. I bet your mother is behind all of this. She hates me, she’s always hated me. She’s trying to drive me insane.”

  “I was with my mother today, honey.”

  “But she came home. Hours ago. She would have had time to do this to destroy me.”

  She was grasping at straws now, desperately clinging to the threads of sanity she had left and Dane felt an overwhelming sense of pity for his wife.

  “I don’t think she would do this, Julia. I really don’t.”

  Dane watched as his wife paced the room. Her frustration began to mix with anger and she ran her fingers through her long hair, pulling out a few strands.

  She stopped in front of the writer boy, staring at it for several moments.

  “It’s you,” she said, slowly turning around. She pointed a painted fingernail at Dane. “You brought this evil thing into our home! You’re the one! You’re trying to drive me crazy!”

  She lunged at Dane and he grabbed her wrists. She writhed and twisted in his arms, kicking, spitting, screaming, and cursing at him, like a rabid dog.

  “I hate you! I hate this house! I hate that thing!”

  Dane wrestled his wife to the floor, his arms tightly wound around her so she wouldn’t hurt herself or him.

  He heard Nathan call his name, but he didn’t answer.

  Julia was bucking like a wild horse beneath him, still screaming, as he tried to calm her.

  Nathan came into the room, took one look at Julia, and said, “What the hell is going on, Dane?”

  At the sound of his brother’s voice, Dane’s wife lost the will to fight. He felt her relax in his arms. Her body slowly came to a rest. She melted into a puddle of quiet sobs.

  ***

  The entire night was a blur. Dane paced the living room, drinking scotch, thinking about his wife. She had agreed to go to the hospital, but only if Nathan was the one to take her.

  Nathan, always the hero.

  When Nathan came home hours later, he told Dane they were keeping Julia overnight and that his wife was resting comfortably. Nathan took the kids back to his ex-wife’s house and at one point, called and said he was going to stop by t
he restaurant.

  Dane surmised that he passed out shortly after that.

  The next morning, he woke up with a headache that reminded him just how awful his night had been. He didn’t have the strength to dress in anything more formal than a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and he certainly wasn’t up for any of his mother’s caterwauling. All he wanted to do was grab a coffee at Starbucks and find out what was happening with his wife. He made it out of the house without running into anyone, warmed up the car, and headed to the hospital.

  He found a tight spot in the back of the parking lot and walked through the sea of cars and through the emergency room doors, kicking himself that he hadn’t asked his brother the number of the room where his wife was resting.

  The young petite blond behind the desk looked up, a befuddled expression on her face.

  Dane didn’t waste time with introductions. He just said, “I’m here to see Julia Caulfield.”

  Again, the woman crinkled her brow. She smiled, said, “Certainly,” and tapped a few buttons on her keyboard.

  She lifted her head and frowned up at him. “I’m afraid she’s already checked out.”

  “Checked out? You mean you let her leave? By herself?”

  The woman shook her head. “No, of course not. We have a strict policy that all patients be escorted out the door by a family member or emergency contact.”

  “I’m her husband. She has no other family. So who checked her out?”

  If ever there was a time to pull the mayor card, this was it. His city was small. About 60,000 residents, so Dane wasn’t recognized as much as the mayor of New York or Chicago might be, but he still had some authority. Someone was going to pay the price if they lost his wife.

  The woman said, “Just a moment.” She picked up a phone and dialed, spoke briefly and said, “Dr. Taylor will be right with you.”

  Dane paced the lobby for several minutes wondering where the hell his wife was. Finally, a thin doctor with gray hair around the temples approached him.

  “Mayor Caulfield?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  The doctor glanced at a clipboard in his hand and said, “I believe your brother is the one who signed the papers releasing your wife.”