Rag Doll, a short story by larkinwilliamson. Date added: 2011-09-20. Times viewed: 1016.
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- Intro: She loved her dolls and he loved to hate her.
"How much did you pay for that damn thing," Jake asked Nola with a grimace on his wrinkled face. Nola frowned and said,“A couple of dollars....so what...I saw you bid seventy two dollars on that stupid power saw." Jake grumbled back, “A saw is a useful tool...your dumb ass doll don't do nothin' but take up space."
Nola huffed...spun around in her seat and mumbled,“Old bastard...I hate you." As Jake walked away...towards the auctioneer who was selling fishing equipment, he said to his friend Carl,"Ignernt bitch bought another doll....she keeps it up...I am kicking her ass out of the trailer." Carl just grinned...saying,"Yeah, yeah....you been saying the same shit for twenty years." Jake gave Carl a dirty look and began to bid on a fishing pole he wanted.
It was a gray snowy day as Jake and Nola left the auction barn that cold afternoon. The old rusty Ford truck had too many holes to feel the warmth of the heater. Nola complained about her cold legs and Jake complained about her complaining. Nola held the rag doll in her lap. Jake looked down at it and said,“That damn thing is filthy....looks like your ugly ass mother too." Nola clutched the doll tight with her hands and snarled,“You go to hell Jake Vonness....my mother was beautiful.....it was your mother who could scare the mud off a rail fence!"
The screaming vulgarities began and exploded into Jake grabbing the doll. The truck was swerving on the slick road as they tugged on the doll. Nola heard the doll rip and turned it loose. Jake immediately rolled his window down and tossed the doll out. Nola screamed,“You son-of-a-bitch.....I hate you...I hate your guts!" Jake slammed the brakes on and almost slid off the road. He reached over Nola....pulled the door handle and pushed her out of the truck with his hand at first...then...the rest of the way with his boot.
Nola cried out as she hit the frozen slush on the muddy gravel road. Jake floored the gas pedal and felt a bump as he pulled away. He had run over Nola's right leg. The spinning tire had removed the flesh from just below her knee to just above her ankle. Nola was bleeding profusely and crying out for Jake to come back to help her. Tears streamed down her face as she watched the truck disappear over the next hill. She was filled with fear...thinking...."what if Jake doesn't come back...no one but the mail man ever came down that road...it was Saturday afternoon and the mail had already ran in the morning."
Nola looked at the flesh pulled back from her leg and tried to put it back in place. She managed to get her green coat off and pulled a sleeve over her leg. Nola was sixty six years old, in bad health and overweight. She noticed that her purse had fallen out too. She crawled to it and frantically pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter. She lit one...inhaled deep and screamed,“Jake Lester Vonness.....I will have my revenge on you....I wage my soul...I will!"
Light snow began falling as Nola noticed a spot of red and blue back down the road. It was her doll. She hooked her purse around her neck and began crawling towards it. By the time she reached the doll...the snow was falling heavy and fast. The coat sleeve was soaked in blood and Nola was feeling weaker by the minute. She grabbed the rag doll with her blood soaked hands and cried,“You’re not ugly...you're my baby....my baby...I love all of my babies."
Nola's head dropped in the muddy slush and her hands slowly released the doll. She could faintly hear growling. She was too weak to move as the pack of coyotes moved in. Within an hour....the pack had torn her to pieces and carried her parts away to the woods. A coyote pup sniffed at the doll and growled. It suddenly yelped and ran away.
Meanwhile...Jake had been at home in the trailer....warming himself up with whiskey and chucking Nola's dolls in the pot belly stove. Burning her dolls seemed to ease his anger. He decided to go back and get Nola....he was hungry and needed her to fix his supper. Half drunk...he climbed in his truck and headed down the now...snow covered gravel road. He stopped where he thought he'd kicked her out but saw nothing but snow. It was still snowing...almost a blizzard as he drove on down the road a ways.
He rolled his windows down and began yelling for Nola. It wasn't long until he was crying for Nola. He drove back and forth and finally had to head home or he would be lost in the storm. He stumbled in the trailer door and fell to his knees. His head was spinning...the room was spinning with her dolls on the shelves. He grabbed his whiskey bottle from the coffee table and chugged half of it down. He slobbered as he groaned,“Stupid old bitch...hope you freeze to death in the damn woods.....that's what I'll tell the Sheriff....I took a nap and you was gone."
Jake crawled on to the couch and fell asleep. The grandfather clock ticked and the fire crackled. Shelves of dolls in the living room sat and stood silent as the trailer door creaked open. Flakes of snow blew in and sizzled on the tin of the stove. A cold blast of air hit Jake in the face and startled him awake. He looked around slowly with hatred in his eyes. Those damn dolls were all staring at him. He reached under the couch cushion....took out a hidden pistol grip pump shotgun and began shooting the dolls.
Plastic and glass pieces were blasting all over the room. Hair and cloth were tumbling from the shelves and some of the shelves were falling. In a frenzy of madness....Jake kept reloading and blasting the dolls! Even after his last shell was spent....he kept racking and pulling the trigger. The head of one doll was smoldering on top of the stove. Eyeballs, arms, legs, hands, torsos and feet were scattered everywhere. Jake began to stomp on what was left of the dolls.
Suddenly...the kitchen light came on! Jake snapped out of his madness and saw that the door was slightly open. He gritted his teeth and shouted out for Nola. Foaming spit drooled over his bottom lip and he cautiously stepped towards the entry way of the kitchen. He looked around the wall and saw her sitting at the table in her light blue bath robe. He couldn’t see her face for her scraggly long gray hair. Jake nervously mumbled,“Guess you made it home....good...you can fix my damn supper."
She didn't move as he said again...louder,“Fix my damn supper...woman!" He saw the rag doll lying on the table and grumbled,“I see you brought that damn thing with you....well it’s going in the fire too." Nola didn't move but she slowly sat the rag doll up with her hands...facing Jake. Jake wiped his eyes and could now see that it had blood stains on it. The yellow yarn hair was matted with blood. Jake started to step towards Nola but stopped when he heard her say,“What would you like for supper dear?"
Jake half smiled and said,“I don't care...I'm just hungry...git yer ass up and fix it before I find more shotgun shells and finish off your collection in the bedroom!" Nola stood up slowly with her head down. She looked up at Jake and he jumped back...screaming! Her face was just a skull with bits of meat and blood on it. Jake fell back over the coffee table as she pulled her robe back and dropped it. Her arms and legs were just meat covered bones. Her rib cage and stomach was packed with eyes, noses, mouths, ears, body parts and bloody hair of dolls.
Jake backed against the wall as he saw there were no doll parts on the floor. He had just been crushing them under his boot a few moments before. Nola took a couple of steps towards him...stopped and slightly squatted. With a gurgle and rasp in her voice...she said,“I can't fix your supper Jake....until I have your baby....oh Jake...it is a cold, cold baby." Jake gasped in fear as he saw something begin to protrude from beneath her. He cried out in fear, “No....no...no...please..no!"
A horrible filthy head and one clump of a slimy arm squeezed out with a gushing, crackling sound. Jake saw its black pulsing eyes and passed out.
It was a bright Sunday morning. The storm was long over and the sun was shining bright on the sparkling snow. Jake opened his eyes to see the blue eyes of a broken doll head staring at him. He huffed out a scream as he sat up quickly from laying on the floor. He cursed,“I hate them damn things." He ran his fingers over his face and said with relief, “A dream...it was a dream." He leaned over to look in the kitchen. Nothing was there. He raised a little to see if the doll was on the table. Nothing but Nola's daisy vase was there.
He slowly stood up and looked out the door window. He opened the door to see the snow drifted on the steps. He was happy to see no footprints. Jake said to himself, “Never touching that whiskey again." He rubbed his hurting forehead as he went to the kitchen to put on some coffee. The lingering smell of burning plastic aggravated him but the trailer being so cold was worse. He got an armload of wood from the back deck and started a fire in the stove.
Jake sat on the couch and sipped his hot coffee. He thought about Nola being out there in the woods...probably frozen to death. The nearest neighbor was about eight miles across country. He glanced down at his shotgun on the floor and scanned the doll parts he had blasted apart. He grinned and said below his breath,“Stupid bitch....now I have to call the Sheriff and report your fat ass missing....it's all your fault....you and your dolls."
Jake sat back on the couch and began to feel a little strange. He could feel tingles on his skin. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his right hand...then another!" He stood up while thinking, "Oh no...a stroke...I'm having a stroke!" The pains were excruciating as he buried his hand between his legs. Then he felt the pains in his left hand. Jake screamed and stumbled over the coffee table on to the floor. He tried clinching his fists but couldn't. He squirmed and kicked at the wall.
He could feel the pains all over now. They were in his face, his head, back, stomach chest and crotch. He rolled on the floor and managed to sit up next to a cracked mirrored shelf where dolls had been. Jake could see his face swelling outwards. He looked at his hands and screamed! His fingers were being sewn together with veins coming from his arms. He could feel his feet swelling in his boots. The top of each brown boot split open and revealed blood soaked socks. Veins were now coming from his neck and sewing his lips together.
Jake was making muffled screams,"Nola....Nola...Nola!" His fingers and thumbs were now being folded and sewed to tightly to his palms. He could feel the meat and bones stretching in his head. His nose disappeared as his face spread out. Jake looked in the cracked mirror and could see his hideous face. His eyes were a foot apart...peeking from the stretched splits. He saw bulges next to his eyes on the inside. The eyes that he saw on Nola's baby in his dream...bulged out of the splits. A rotted slimy cloth mouth stretched through his nostrils. Blood soaked sharp teeth chewed at the nostril skin to make the hole bigger.
Jake screamed out in terror for the last time with a gurgle. The dirty mouth said,“I’m hungry daddy."
Almost a most a month had gone by. The mail man had called the Sheriff to report that Jake and Nola hadn't gotten their mail from the box in weeks. The Sheriff and his deputies found Jake's ripped and bloody clothing on the trailer floor. They figured Nola had killed him with the shotgun and ripped his clothing and boots up in a rage...then got rid of the body.
Everybody in town knew they hated each other. A deputy was putting Jake's clothing in a plastic evidence bag. When he lifted Jake's red and gray plaid shirt...he was startled by a bloody rag doll beneath it.
The deputy spoke out,"Hey Sheriff....check this shit out.....look at that doll's face...hell...it looks like old Jake."
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