‘Tis the Season
By Mandy Beasley
Allison’s puffy pink
parka accentuated equally rosy cheeks as she pressed her nose to the window
outside of FAO Schwarz.
Her mother, Susan, groaned
as she held on tightly to the Scooby Doo mitten that wasn’t reaching out for
the dolls that adorned a two-story Christmas tree. This was precisely why
she had hoped to avoid 5th Avenue; she hadn’t wanted her daughter
to see the season’s new gotta-have-it toy. But, obviously it was too late.
“Oh,
Mooooommy…..” Allison said in awe, her little body pulling her mom closer
to the window. “I neeeeed that. Do you think Santa would bring one for me?”
Susan
rolled her eyes as she gazed at the “Only $89.99” sign, which was spelled
in multi-color Christmas lights in the center of the tree. She adjusted her
shopping bags and squatted down to Allison’s eye level.
“Honey,
why do you think you need an ‘ER Infant’?” she said gently as she took
out a tissue to wipe Allison’s running nose.
Allison curled her nose and backed away. She hated when her mom did
that.
Allison
looked thoughtfully from the dolls to her mother. “Because Mom, I just do,
and besides, Jackie says her grandma and grandpa are getting her one, so I
need one too so we can play together.”
“But
Allison, you have other dolls you can play with when Jackie comes over,” she
said as she stood up and pulled her daughter away from the toy store. Allison’s
little pink snowshoes hit the ground with ungraceful thuds and she followed
her mother with a pout.
“But
these dolls are special. They’re like real people.”
This
was exactly what worried Susan. Dolls that bleed like humans, scar like humans,
get sick like humans? It was all a little bit too weird for her. Susan had
visions of Chucky as she hailed a cab. Sure, “My Buddy” had been a cute little
doll at first. But then, he had turned into a mean little bastard who stabbed
people, especially mothers. Susan laughed to herself at her farfetched mind.
After all, “Child’s Play” was definitely one of the most idiotic movies she
had ever seen.
“Mommy,”
said Allison as the taxi driver took them to the subway station twelve blocks
away.
“Yes,
sweetie,”
“Member
when you asked me while ago why I wanted an ‘ER Infant’?”
“Uh-huh”
“Well,
I just remembered why.” Allison paused and Susan raised her eyebrows. “It’s cause I want to be a doctor when I grow
up. And the kids on TV said that the
‘ER Infants’ are good for learning how to be one.”
“Sweetie,
I thought you wanted to be a kindergarten teacher like Ms. Anderson.”
“Oh,
well, I want to be that too, but what I really want to be is a doctor. I think
it would be fun to help people feel better. Don’t you? It’d be educational,
you know?” Allison’s blue eyes sparkled with delight as she thought of this
new toy.
Susan
chuckled softly, knowing Allison was quoting the commercial that had run yesterday
morning during Pokeman. She hugged her daughter against her brown wool
coat. “We’ll put it on your Christmas list.”
That
night Susan vowed to talk to her husband, Jeff, about the dolls. She was hoping
he could convince her that this really was just an educational toy and would
be worth the ninety dollars.
“Susan,
you’re overreacting, just like you always do,” Jeff said after she told him
her concerns about the ‘ER Infant’ in bed that night. “I’m sure they’re perfectly safe and besides, Allison really wants
one.”
He
kissed her lightly, his brown hair tickling her nose, and then rolled over
to turn off the lamp beside the bed.
“So,
you really think we should get it for her?” Susan asked, staring at the ceiling
fan in the moonlight.
“I
don’t see why not, it’s just a toy.”
“So
was Chucky…” she mumbled.
“Sue,
I heard that. You’ve gotta stop,” he yawned.
“But,
have you seen the names they give to those dolls? It’s just morbid.”
“Yeah,
like ‘Bloody Mary’ right?” Jeff said with a chuckle.
“Do
you really think that’s funny? I mean, god, Allison said she wanted ‘Broken
Bones Bonnie.’”
“Yeah,
yeah. I know. But she’ll only be six once,” Jeff mumbled. “Go to sleep, hon.”
Yeah,
like going to sleep was gonna be easy, thought Susan as she imagined shadows
the size of two-foot people emitting from the open closet door. She cowered
under the blanket and attempted to picture the sweet angelic faces of the
dolls in the store window that afternoon. Instead, she immediately had a vision
of Chucky swiping a butcher knife at her in the darkness. She squeezed her
eyes shut and forcefully kicked a bare foot from beneath the comfort of their
satin sheets toward the image. Her
foot encountered a cold breeze from the fan, but nothing else.
Well, what did you expect?
A doll to slice your foot off, thought Susan. This is ridiculous. I’m
a grown woman and Chucky is not a real doll. She chuckled at her own stupidity.
To avoid looking at the empty room, she turned over to cuddle with Jeff’s
warm backside, trying to convince herself that he was right. After all, Allison
was their only child, and Susan wanted to make her happy.
The
next day Jeff brought home the ‘ER Infant’ named ‘Broken Bones Bonnie,’ to
add to the guest bedroom closet with Allison’s other Christmas presents. Susan
was still skeptical about the whole thing, but didn’t say a word to Jeff.
She wasn’t in the mood for another you’re-just-overreacting speech.
Instead,
she waited until she heard Jeff’s steady breathing in their living room recliner
and stepped quietly out of the room towards the guest room. It was time to
examine that doll. She was hoping it would ease her mind. After all, it couldn’t
be that bad. Parents across the country were buying them.
When
Susan opened the closet door, a mound of Toys R Us and FAO Schwarz bags fell
at her feet because Jeff had stacked them awkwardly on top of the picnic basket.
She shook her head. Maybe they had bought Allison a bit too much this year.
Susan pawed through the bags. A grocery cart with plastic food, two Pokeman
computer games, Baby Love Button, a Blues Clues puppy, a beaded craft kit.
Where was that damn doll? Susan sighed, arranged the bags neatly back on the
basket, and retied her ponytail. Then she looked up and noticed it on the
top shelf.
“Shit,”
she muttered when she opened the bag and saw that Jeff had had it gift-wrapped.
Now what? She thought. Well,
there’s only one thing to do. She left the room and returned with a long
silver letter opener. She plopped
down next to the doll and with a few delicate swipes of the wrapping paper,
Bonnie was free. Susan curled her nose as she held the doll. The words “Broken
Bones Bonnie” were in the upper left hand corner of the box. Underneath the
name, it said “Casts and Crutches included!” The doll looked like any other
doll with blonde braided hair, big blue eyes, and plastic pursed lips that
Susan knew must talk. (The side of the box confirmed it: two AA batteries
required.) Susan opened the top of the box and pulled out the doll, which
was firmly attached to cardboard by two plastic prongs.
It was in the bottom of
the box next to the plastic crutches that Susan found what she was looking
for: an “All about my new ER Infant” parents’ handbook. On the front was a
picture of all of the dolls from Bruisin’ Bruno to Pink Eye Pete. It said,
“Collect all Six.” Yeah, that’ll happen, thought Susan. For $90
a pop. She flipped to the first page and began reading:
Suddenly,
the door to the guest room slung open and Jeff walked in.
“I
can’t believe you, Susan. Sneaking in our child’s Christmas present.” He shook
his head in a disapproving manner and put his hands on his hips.
Susan
smiled guiltily as if she had just been caught snooping through her own Christmas
present. She pulled down the doll’s
skirt in a hurried gesture, “I’m sorry, Jeff.”
Jeff
continued shaking his head. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“I
believe you now, Jeff. I’m fine with it.”
“Well,
that’s good news now that you demolished the wrapping paper,” he said, motioning
to the heap of green foil and red ribbons lying next to Susan.
“I
didn’t demolish it! See, how neat it is?” Susan defensively held up the paper.
“We can slip it right back on the doll.”
“We?”
“I’ll
take care of it, she’ll be good as new.”
“Whatever.”
“See?”
said Susan as she slipped the doll back into its packaging.
Jeff
bent down to kiss her good night. “You’re crazy, but I still love you.”
Susan
smiled and began re-wrapping the doll. “I love you too.”
Maybe
Jeff was right after all. The doll really wasn’t that scary.
Three
weeks later Christmas Day finally arrived, and Allison was delighted at the
mound of presents under the tree. Santa had arranged the presents so that
the ‘ER Infant’ was on the bottom of the pile. By the third gift she had opened,
Allison was already looking antsy.
“Mommy,
uh…I may be wrong, but you do think Santa remembered, don’t you?”
Needless
to say, Allison was thrilled when the second to last present revealed the
ninety-dollar toy.
“Oh
wow,” she said, “I knew he wouldn’t forget.”
The
smile on Allison’s face was enough to ease all of Susan’s past-skeptical notions.
Allison really did love the doll. Making her happy was the most important.
Within a day, Allison had
the doll figured out. At this point, however, she was doing everything she
could to keep Bonnie from getting injured. Two days after Christmas, things
changed when she accidentally dropped her while was spinning her around in
a circle in the kitchen. (Although, of course, Susan had told her not to.) Bonnie hit the refrigerator with a thud and
a wail emitted from her pathetic little body almost immediately. Aww…finally
the batteries kick in, thought Susan. She had been wondering exactly what
those were for.
Allison ran over to the
refrigerator with concern. “Are you okay, Bonnie?”
The wail was growing stronger
from the voice box deep within the doll’s throat. Obviously she was not okay.
“Owwwww…..my
leg…..”
“Oh,
no Mom,” said Allison as she gently picked up the doll, “I think Bonnie hurt
her leg.”
Susan
was ironing Jeff’s pants and set down the iron to go check out the doll. She
had been waiting for this.
“Mom,
what’s that smell? It smells like rotten cabbage,” Allison said as she curled
her nose, “and you know I hate cabbage.”
“Hmm…I
don’t know honey.” She was pretty sure Allison had never had cabbage before.
Susan
took the doll out of her daughter’s hand and noticed that the bottom pleats
of her dress were turning a distinct shade of scarlet.
“Oh no, I think Bonnie’s bleeding,” said Susan
as she pulled up the doll’s skirt to reveal a long gash on the doll’s right
rubber leg. Red liquid slime was dripping out of the wound and accumulating
on the backside of the doll’s dress. And sure enough, it smelled, although
more like earwax than cabbage. Wouldn’t Mattel be smart enough to not let
the doll’s darn blood stain the clothes? Susan thought.
“I’ll..umm…”
Allison pressed her hand to her head as she contemplated what to do, “I’ll
go get my doctor’s kit!” she said frantically, as if she were tending to a
real person.
Susan continued examining the doll,
which had finally stopped wailing and was now smiling up at her as if nothing
had happened. Susan was relieved that this was the extent of the doll’s wounds.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t get any worse than this. Although she still had yet
to have a broken bone.
Allison came running back
in the room with her doctor’s kit, nearly slipping on the wooden kitchen floor.
“Okay,
Mommy. Here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said as she tied a doctor’s mask around
her face and then took Bonnie from her mom. “You’re gonna be the nurse, and
I’m gonna be the doctor, because Bonnie is very hurt and she needs our help,
okay?”
Susan
smiled at Allison’s innocence, wishing she could be a child again.
“Okay,
Dr. Elliot. May I have the gauze?” Susan said seriously.
“Wow…
Dr. Elliot. That sounds cool, Mom,” said Allison, brushing a lock of blonde
hair off of her face.
Susan
took the gauze and patted Bonnie’s leg. It absorbed the red slime quickly
and Bonnie was immediately clean.
“Okay,
now Nurse Elliot,” said Allison to her mom, “It’s time for the band-aid.”
Allison removed a real band-aid from her black doctor’s bag and applied it
to Bonnie’s leg. “What should we do about the dress, Mom?”
Susan
definitely wasn’t prepared to wash Bonnie’s clothes on top of the rest of
the family’s. Wouldn't Mattel have thought about that? Apparently, they hadn't
thought about a lot of things.
"Well,
I guess we'll wash it and you can either put another dress on her, or leave
her naked."
So,
Bonnie remained naked.
That
night at dinner Susan told Jeff she was feeling a little uneasy about the
day's incident with Bonnie. Of course he told her that there was nothing to
worry about and she was just being paranoid. But while Susan and Jeff were
watching TV two days later, a CBS Special News Report interrupted Survivor.
"Hi, I'm Patti Hill reporting
live outside of an apartment on 10th Avenue. A seven-year-old boy
has just cut his little sister with a pocketknife in seven places on her abdominal
region. The boy said that he had wanted to cut his sister up so he could make
her better using the techniques he learned on the ‘ER Infant’ he received
for Christmas. After this incident and the recent mutilation of a San Diego
infant by his six-year-old sister, the Federal Agency for Safe Toys is requiring
that Mattel recall the 82 million dolls produced for your child’s safety.
In order to do this….”
Susan’s jaw dropped as
she listened to the report, but she quickly regained herself and shot Jeff
an I-told-you-so look. He intensely studied the New York Times. The
special news report went into a segment on other violent incidences that had
been provoked by ‘ER Infants.’ If children weren’t attacking their own siblings,
across the country they were mutilating their dolls just to see how gory they
could make them. Susan was relieved that Allison wasn’t doing that at least.
But she still didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Jeff?
Are you listening to this?” said Susan as she jumped off the sofa, “Do you
see what you’ve exposed our child to?”
Jeff
grunted something and rolled his eyes.
“Well,
I’m going to put our daughter to bed.”
“What
is she doing, anyway?” said Jeff.
“She’s
playing tea party in her play room, if you wanna know,” said Susan sarcastically
as she began pacing the entrance to the living room. “Now, how the hell am
I supposed to tell her that we have to take her favorite doll away from her?”
Jeff
shrugged and laid down his paper.
“I
think you should have to tell her. You bought the damn thing,” said Susan
as she tapped her pink house slipper on the carpet.
Suddenly
Susan heard three sharp thumps coming from upstairs, followed by a muffled
cry. She and her husband exchanged bewildered looks before running out of
the living room.
At
the top of the stairs, Susan and Jeff found Allison sitting in front of the
toilet.
“Honey,
are you sick?” said Jeff before he realized what she was holding over the
toilet. The doll was positioned so that both of its feet were hanging over
the toilet. Apparently, the thump they had heard was Allison slamming the
toilet lid on the doll’s legs. An intense earwax smell was rising from the
doll.
“Mommy,”
she said looking up with a pathetic pout, “Bonnie’s legs won’t break. I think
there’s something wrong with her.”
“Oh
boy,” muttered Jeff.
“Yeah,
oh boy, is right,” snapped Susan before squatting down next to Allison.
“See
Mommy, Bonnie is bleeding, but her legs are still fine,” Allison said as she
raised the toilet lid, not noticing her mother’s sarcasm. Sure enough, red
slime was covering Bonnie from her waist to her little pink painted toenails.
The toilet water was turning a pale shade of pink as the goop slid gracefully
into the mysterious toilet hole.
“Al,
why do you want to hurt Bonnie?” said Jeff, leaning against the sink.
“Because,
Daddy. That’s what you’re supposed to do with her.”
Susan
raised her eyes and shot Jeff a “you-tell-her” look.
“It’s
not nice to hurt your dolls, Al,” Jeff said choosing his words carefully.
“Do you know what happened tonight?”
“No,
Daddy, what?”
“A
little boy in New York hurt his sister pretty badly because he had been playing
with his new ER Infant and had gotten ideas.”
“Well,
I don’t have a sister, Daddy.”
“Yes,
but have you ever slammed your other dolls’ feet in the toilet like you’re
doing to Bonnie?” Jeff said a little too forcefully.
Susan
looked at Jeff quizzically and pulled Allison’s delicate little body onto
her lap. Bonnie fell on the floor.
“Ouch…. That hurt,” Bonnie
said. A soft purple mark began to form on her arm. Jeff chuckled.
“Honey,
I don’t know how to tell you this, but we’re gonna have to take Bonnie away,”
said Susan softly as she caressed Allison’s cheek.
Allison’s
face fell and shriveled. Susan had just succeeded in breaking her heart for
the first time. And all because of Mattel!
“But
why, Mommy? I love her.”
“I
know you do, honey, but the people in the government say kids can’t play with
them anymore because it’s making them mean.”
Tears
caressed Allison’s cheeks and she began sobbing against her mother’s pink
flannel pajamas.
“Why
do they have to do that?” she said forcefully.
“Because
it’s the law, baby,” said Susan as she and Jeff exchanged knowing looks.
Jeff
interjected quickly, “Al, we’ll buy you any other doll you want.”
“I
don’t want another doll….. I want Booooonnieeee,” she wailed and lifted her
head.
But
the doll had to go.
As
she walked into the playroom to straighten up two days later, Susan still
remembered Allison’s pitiful pout. It didn’t seem right that the government
was ripping dolls out of children’s hands, despite the consequences,
thought Susan as she leaned down to pick up a puddle of Legos. Maybe doing
this was the wrong way to go about it. Were the dolls really provoking violence?
As Susan remembered the toilet incident, something else confirmed her
thoughts as she picked up the last of the Legos. Next to Allison’s doll crib,
Baby Love Button was lying in a twisted pile with her legs folded over her
head. Susan eyed it carefully. The doll was covered with small scissor cuts
and what looked like dried ketchup. It smelled like rotten tomatoes.