by Mike Hopper
“Not allowed to say? What? Why?” Steuart demanded. “We’ve answered your questions. We found your boxes.”
“Ed,” Sam asked, “Do you know the people who travel?”
“I know some of them.”
“Who are they?” Steuart asked.
“I just told you. I’m not at liberty to tell you.”
“You’re not telling us anything. I think you’re teasing.”
Ed growled, “I hate this part of the talk.”
“What do you mean, the talk? How often do you do this?” Sam asked.
“It’s how I make my living. This is my job.”
“Job?”
“Yeah, I work as a guide.”
“What about Trista?” Sam asked. “Do you and she always work together?”
“Trista isn’t a guide. She’s a student. She came here for the cultural experience. I’m her guide, too.”
“So, Dolls are place holders?” Steuart asked.
“Yes and there are defined holding areas in communities that keep the dolls safe.”
“Dr. Klesel? What does he know?”
Ed shook his head, “Dr. Klesel’s office is a holding area.”
“What does he know?” Steuart asked.
“It’s unclear.”
“You’re kidding us.”
“No, and if I knew anything more, I’d still be unable to tell either of you.”
Sam stretched and took a deep breath, “It’s so secretive. Where did Dr. Klesel get his dolls?”
“The Doll-maker.”
“Is that where you came from?”
Ed nodded, “Dolls come from the doll-maker.”
“Where’s the doll maker?”
“Where’s God? You might as well answer that question.”
“When did you arrive?” Steuart asked.
“About a week before we were introduced.”
“You seemed different—not like you were alive. You didn’t seem real,” Sam said. “Explain, please.”
“I can’t.”
Steuart looked at Sam. “This is frustrating.”
“The absolute most important thing you need to remember is that this is not an exact science. Also, we occasionally get surprised.”
“You won’t tell us who travels?” Steuart asked.
“It’s against the Code of the Guide.”
“What?”
“There’s a code we guides live by. I follow the code. I took an oath. I live under strict orders.”
“From whom?” Sam asked.
Ed shook his head. “Look, I sincerely apologize for my vagueness. It’s not by choice. I’m bound by my oath. Believe me, I feel your frustration.”
“Do you?” Sam asked.
Ed nodded. “You can feel confident that I won’t tell anyone about you.”
“What will you tell us?”
“I’ll tell you everything that’s allowed—nothing more. That’s how it works.”
Sam let out a huge sigh and walked to her bike.
“Where are we going now?” Steuart asked his sister.
“I’m not sure. Let’s bike downtown. Maybe we can figure things out when we get there.” Sam got on her bike and began pedaling.
* * *
Sam biked towards town. Steuart and Ed sat with Sparky and enjoyed the trip. Sam thought about Trista’s accident and wondered how it all came about. What was Mother doing with Trista? Sam felt angry and sad—she also felt responsible. “Trista, I’m going to help you get well. You have my promise.”
Snow fell and the temperature dropped as she continued peddling towards downtown. A small number of people walked in and out of buildings, some using umbrellas, others wearing hoods or hats. Cars inched along on the snow-covered roads. A yellow city truck, preparing for icy evening conditions, dropped salt as it passed the bicycle. The day was becoming one of those grey, dreary days that Midwesterners often complain about—cold, slushy, icy, wet, and dull.
The children learned early that Midwesterners care little for cold or snow. For some, complaining about the weather seemed to make them feel better. For others, it appeared to be a hobby. Sam didn’t understand. It’s snow. It’s beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous snow, she thought. She loved the snowy days, even days like this one. She fantasized about standing in the middle of the street screaming, “Be thankful for these beautiful days! They are treasures for you to enjoy.” Sam also realized that one man’s richest blessing is often little more than another man’s daily complaint. She felt sad and grateful at the same time. She felt sad for the people who hated the season. She felt grateful for the ability to recognize and appreciate every day. Then she wondered, what do other people see and appreciate that I miss?
Sam slowed her bike as she noticed a little coffee shop diagonally across the street. A heavy velvet curtain was installed at the entrance for the winter months. The color of ripe, juicy, raspberries, it was pulled around to keep the cold and wind out of the shop.
“What are you doing?” Steuart asked. “Why are you stopping?”
Sam pulled up to the curb. “Let’s go in here. Are you hungry?” she asked. Steuart stepped onto the snowy pavement with Ed. “Watch your step.” Sam reached to help her brother with his good arm. “I was thinking we could get a muffin and a cup of tea.”
“Chocolate,” Ed insisted. “Let’s get a chocolate muffin.”
“Ed, sometimes you have to eat food other than chocolate,” Sam said.
“Blasphemy!” Ed shouted.
“Please, don’t yell,” Sam whispered as the people walking in front of them turned back to see who was yelling.
“Sorry, I can’t help myself. I’m enthusiastic about good flavor. That said, I’m going to recommend we save poppy seed for another day. My vote is for chocolate.”
“You can’t always eat chocolate. At least I can’t.” Sam looked at her brother for reassurance.
“She’s correct,” Steuart said.
Ed shook his head, “What’s wrong with you people?”
Inside the coffee shop, Sam asked for a booth away from the crowd. “How about that one?” the hostess asked as she pointed to a booth located in the far, back corner.
Sam leaned close to Ed, “This is perfect. You can talk without being noticed.”
“Hi, I’m Christy. I’ll be your server today,” the young waitress looked like she had just popped from a toaster. “What would you like?”
“We’d like a muffin. Do you have lemon poppy seed?” Steuart asked.
Ed made a noise. Sam nudged him with his elbow.
Christy nodded, “We do. What to drink?”
“Two cups of tea with cream please.”
“I’ll be back with one lemon poppy seed muffin and two cups of tea. Is Earl Gray okay?”
“Yes,” Steuart responded.
“I’d like peppermint...” Sam said. “If you have it.”
“I’m not sure about the peppermint, I’ll have to check on that. What’s your second choice?”
“Green. Green is good.”
“And that muffin—would you like it heated?”
“Yes, please,” Sam smiled. Steuart nodded.
As soon as Christy was out of hearing range, Ed frowned, “What’s wrong with our server?”
“I think they call it a tanning addiction,” Sam said.
“I thought you were going to tell me she ate too much pumpkin. Why the sudden problem with chocolate? I really wanted chocolate."
Steuart looked at Ed, “What’s wrong is that we’ve never seen you eat anything other than chocolate. We’re concerned about your health. Sam’s right. It wouldn’t hurt you to try something new and different.”
Christy returned with tea and muffins. She looked at Sam and shook her head, “Sorry, no mint today.”
“That’s okay. I like green. Do you know of any place in town that repairs dolls?”
Christy shook her head, “I’m not much help today. I don’t know of anything like that around here. I’m a new stud
ent—probably not the best person to ask. I’ll ask in the kitchen and see if anyone knows of a place.”
A young woman approached the children from a booth across the aisle. “I overheard your conversation with our server. Did I hear that you’re looking for a doll hospital?”
Sam nodded, “We are. Do you know a place?”
“The Purple Doll House is well known. It’s in Hytumpol. They do great work, but it’s at least fifteen miles from here. You’ll need to ask your parents to take you.”
“Does the bus go to Hytumpol?” Steuart asked.
The woman thought for a moment, then nodded, “Yes I think it does, but not the local bus. You’ll have to get on the transit.”
“Where do we do that?” Steuart asked.
“The bus station. It’s about two blocks from here. You can’t miss it.” The woman wrinkled her forehead, “I wouldn’t go alone. You should probably ask your parents.”
The children nodded. The woman said good-bye and walked away.
Sam and Steuart began talking with Ed about how they would make their way to Hytumpol. “I don’t know,” Steuart said, “that’s a long way from here. Taking the bus sounds risky. Mother will ground us for the rest of our lives if we get caught.”
“I know,” Sam sighed. “You’re right. But I think we can figure out a way to make it happen. We have the day off on Thursday. If we leave early enough, we might be able to make it back in plenty of time. Nanny Claire won’t care.”
Steuart nodded, “She never misses us.”
“I know,” Sam smiled. “Aren’t we lucky.”
“What about our appointments with Dr. Klesel?”
“We can cancel.”
“Let’s go to the bus station after we leave here. We can find out how much it’s going to cost.”
* * *
The children left the coffee shop and biked the two blocks to the bus station. “Bus schedules are confusing,” Sam said.
Steuart nodded, “Expensive too.”
The children sat on a bench and discussed their options. A man stopped in front of them. “Hello, young people.” The man was as round as he was tall. “Did I hear you talking about The Purple Doll House?”
“Yes sir. Do you know it?” Steuart asked.
“Oh, yes—yes indeed,” the man nodded. “You’re in luck if you want to go now. I’m headed in that direction.”
Steuart reached for his sister and looked up at the man, “No thank you.”
“I’m going that way,” he said. “Are you certain that you won’t let me drive you over?”
“Certain,” Sam nodded. “We haven’t decided to go.”
“Well, if you need a doll hospital, that’s the one you want. The place has an excellent reputation.”
“No, thank you,” Sam said, this time in a more forceful voice. She stood to walk out the door. “Steuart, we have to go. Daddy’s waiting for us.”
“Oh, your father is here.”
“Yes, he’s outside.” Sam and Steuart exited the building. Steuart ran towards the bike carrier. Sam followed.
“What is it with these people?” Steuart yelled to his sister. “I wish they’d leave us alone.”
“I’m glad you didn’t let him drive us,” Ed said.
Sam peddled until she felt safe and certain that the man was not following behind. “Look,” she slowed briefly and pointed to a pink sign in the distance, “I’m going there. I have a good feeling. I’m going to follow that color.”
Reaching the sign, Sam slowed and looked in the distance at another pink sign.
“What are you doing?” Steuart asked.
“I need to keep going. We need to follow that color.” Again, Sam pointed in the distance and continued peddling.
At the corner, Sam stopped and looked to her right. This time she pointed in another direction. “We’re going over there.”
“Will you please make up your mind,” Steuart shouted. “I’m getting tired. This is silly.”
“No, it’s not.” Sam kept moving. “It’s that pink. That’s the one.” She pointed to a pink building and continued up the block until she arrived. She smiled as she stopped her bike in front of a large pink house with white gingerbread trim. A sign hung from the porch, “Girren Herd, Attorney at Law.” Disappointed, Sam frowned. “I was certain this was a dollhouse.”
“You can’t win them all,” Steuart said.
“Thanks.” Sam looked back at her little brother. She let out a heavy sigh. “I might as well start back. We’ll have to worry about this later.” She peddled the bike up the street four blocks before stopping to catch her breath.
Steuart became animated, “Sam, I don’t believe this. Look Sam, look up the walkway. I think you’ve found it!”
Sam turned and saw a tiny pink house with a sign above the entry that read, “Lars Abot Doll Hospital.”
The children walked inside with Ed and Trista. They stood in a small room and waited ten minutes before a young man entered from the back. “Have you been here long?”
“Just a little while,” Steuart responded.
Sam took Trista from her backpack and placed her gingerly on the counter. “This is my friend Trista. Do you think you can help her?”
The young man opened the bag and looked inside, “I don’t know. I really do not know.” He shook his head, “This looks serious. I’m not sure,” he said. “What happened to her?”
“Someone threw her against a tile wall.” Sam felt tears coming, “She’s extra special. I hope you can help her.”
“The only promise I can make you is that we will do our best. I’ll call you as soon as we know something.”
Sam and Steuart said good-bye to Trista. “We’ll be back for you soon,” Sam whispered. “I love you.”
They thanked the man and started home.
FIFTEEN
Five days later Sam received a call that Trista was ready to come home. Immediately following school, she and Steuart headed towards the doll hospital. This time an older man greeted them. “I think you will be pleased,” he said as he laid Trista on the counter.
Sam gasped, “She looks perfect. Oh my goodness, thank you for doing such a wonderful job.”
“I had my doubts when I saw her. I’m pleased with our work.”
Sam paid the man, put Trista into her backpack and walked outside with Steuart. She let out a huge sigh and smiled. “I’m so thankful. I’m relieved.” Sam took Trista from her backpack and looked closely at the doll. “Trista, you look beautiful. I don’t see any trace of your injury. How do you feel?”
Trista didn’t move.
Sam and Steuart sat on a bench. Steuart held Ed. Sam held Trista.
“Trista?” Sam looked at her brother. She looked at Ed, “Is she playing a joke?”
Ed shook his head, “I hope so. Trista?” Ed reached over and touched her arm, “Are you teasing us?”
Trista didn’t move.
“She wouldn’t play that kind of joke,” Steuart said. “Something’s wrong.”
Tears rolled down Sam’s face. “It didn't work.”
* * *
Sam and Steuart decided to visit with Ceil. “Are you okay?” Ceil asked.
Sam shook her head.
“We just picked Trista up from the doll hospital,” Steuart said.
“How does she look?”
Sam removed Trista from her backpack and sat her next to Ed.
“She looks wonderful,” Ceil said.
Sam shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know what to say. I’d rather not talk about it today if you don’t mind.”
“That’s okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” Sam held back the tears. “I should probably go home.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“No. I don’t know what I want to do.”
“I understand.” Ceil changed the subject, “How about going to the tree house?”
“You’re forgetting, Steuart can’t climb.”
Ceil pointed towards the tree house, “Steuart, check this out. Roger, my handyman, has been working on this since you were in the hospital.” She showed the children an elaborate system of pulleys—a sort of dumbwaiter designed to lift Steuart up into the tree house.
“This is way too cool” Steuart exclaimed. “It’s identical to the one that Captain Crandall made for Baby Bonner Blaster!”
Ceil nodded, “That’s where we got the idea.”
“Cool.”
“There’s only one thing you have to promise before you do this. You must promise that you’ll not go up or down without help from Roger or me. You need an adult. Understood? Sam, you can go ahead and climb to the top. I’m going to need your help.”
Steuart leaned back into the basket. Ceil strapped him into the seat and secured the safety belt. “Sam, when he gets up to the top, we’ll pull the hatch shut, I’ll come up and show you how to do it. After that, I’ll show you how to unhook his seatbelt.”
“Are you sure this is safe?” Sam asked.
“Roger’s a retired engineer. He’s worked nonstop getting things just right for you.”
Ceil looked at Steuart. “Pay attention, please. I don’t want you getting back into the basket without assistance. You need adult help. Do I need to repeat myself again?”
“No,” Steuart was eager to ride to the top. “Now I feel like a true king,” he said.
Ceil followed Sam up the ladder and prepared to meet Steuart.
“Ready?” Roger asked. “Ready on the count of three.”
Steuart gave Roger a thumbs-up.
“One, two, three,” Roger counted. He pushed the button and began pulling ropes. Steuart was lifted up. Once inside the tree house, Ceil pulled the hatch closed and helped Steuart exit the basket.
“This is great,” Steuart said laughing. “It’s so much fun to be back up here.”
“I’ve heard the two of you talk about names,” Ceil said. “What are we going to name this one? Did I hear Sam-Steuart?”
“Yes, you did,” Steuart said.
“It’s okay with you if we give it our names?” Sam asked.
