Mrs. Mackenzie’s Doll House

Dorothy was pacing to reach her house on time before it started to rain. She had been under the weather for a week until today, when she saw the sun shining brightly. Her instant reaction was to put on her jacket and get outside to play with her friends at the park. She had missed them and could not wait to meet them. They lost count of time while playing at the park, and as the sun set, everyone hurried back on their way home. She had to reach home fast before it became dark. She had to pass Mrs Mackenzie’s house on her way; there was no alternate road.

As she had feared, it grew quite dark, and the roads were nearly empty because of the chilly wind. Dorothy was coughing and was feeling dizzy. By the time she was near Mrs Mackenzie’s house, her head started to spin. She somehow managed to hold onto the wooden fence of the house to keep from falling. Someone came out of the house running and caught her with loving hands. Dorothy was taken inside the house- the house of Mrs Mackenzie.

Dorothy could hardly breathe as the elderly Mrs Mackenzie lay her on the couch and gently tucked a cushion under her head. She was cold and shivering. Mrs Mackenzie covered her with a woollen shawl. Before Dorothy fell asleep, she could see a pair of kind eyes looking anxiously at her, and beyond that, the room was filled with all types of dolls, in every shape and size.

When Dorothy woke, it was almost 8. Her mother might be searching for her everywhere by then. She had to rush now. As she tried to get up from the couch, her knees felt weak and numb. She saw the elderly lady approaching her with a mug of hot chocolate and a warm smile. So, this is Mrs Mackenzie, whom the whole town stayed away from!

As she took small sips from the mug, she looked around. The room was filled with dolls. There were girl dolls, boy dolls, baby dolls, bunnies, teddies, cats and dogs.

“Do you like them?” Mrs Mackenzie asked in her soft voice.

“Yes, they look so real. Have you made them?” Dorothy spoke in a nervous tone.

“Yes, dear, I have been making dolls since I was your age. I learnt it from my father.” Her gentle voice was comforting.

“I have to go now. My mother might be looking for me everywhere.” Dorothy got up. The hot chocolate had provided strength and warmth in her body.

“Oh yes, but do come by if you ever feel like meeting my dolls.” Mrs Mackenzie waved her as she walked out the door.

“Thank you, Mrs Mackenzie.” Dorothy turned back to notice Mrs Mackenzie’s moist eyes, which she hid under her lovely smile.

Dorothy reached home to find her mother worried and making calls to all her friends. She ran and hugged her tight as soon as she entered the house.

“Where have you been? I have been calling all your friends. I even walked to the park. Where were you, honey?” Her mother’s worried face troubled Dorothy.

“Oh, Mama, don’t worry. I was feeling sick in the cold, and Mrs Mackenzie was kind enough to take me inside her home…”

“Who did you say? Who took you home?” her mother interrupted her.

“Mrs Mackenzie. She covered me with a shawl. I slept on her couch, and she gave me hot chocolate,” she continued excitedly.

“Dorothy, I am not telling you anything today, but you would never go to Mrs Mackenzie’s house.” Her mother’s stern voice worried her.

“But mama, she is so nice, and you know her house is full of dolls, so many dolls of every shape and size and colour…” the little girl would have continued to praise, but her mother put her finger on her lips.

“It's time for your supper. Go to your room and change. I don’t want to hear about Mrs Mackenzie and her dolls, ever.”

After her supper, as she was reading a book in her room, she heard her parents talking about the incident from the evening. They sounded worried.

The next few days were quite windy, and most of the children were stuck indoors. Dorothy felt an ardent pull to see the dolls in Mrs Mackenzie’s house. How beautiful they were. But how could she sneak out without her mom knowing?

And she got that chance that very afternoon, when the weather was better, and her mother drove to the supermarket. “It would take time for me, but you, young lady, are not going out anywhere when I am not there.” She warned Dorothy as she left the house.

As soon as her mother’s car went out of sight, Dorothy sprang and put on her jacket. She ran out of her house to Mrs Mackenzie’s place. After a couple of knocks, Mrs Mackenzie opened the door. “Oh, come in, dear. I had been waiting for your visit.” The lovely lady took her inside.

Dorothy went up to a girl doll with a pink dress and curly golden hair. “That’s Mili, Mrs Mackenzie said, “and the baby next to her is Baby Joshua.” One by one, she introduced Dorothy to all the dolls. Dorothy was ecstatic when she knew all of the dolls by name. There was Tod, Funky- a spaniel, Dodger- a grumpy cat, and Simon- an angelic white tiger. When she was staring at Simon, Mrs Mackenzie asked, “Do you want to take Simon home?”

“I would love to, but my mother would not allow it,” Said Dorothy.

“I know what the townspeople tell about me and my dolls. Your mother must be scared of me, like everyone else. It's not her fault.” She sighed.

“Oh no, Mrs Mackenzie, I have told her how kind and nice you are and how you had given shelter to me that windy evening. But I cannot take anything from anybody.” Her polite voice melted Mrs Mackenzie’s voice.

“No worries, dear. You don’t have to take them, but feel free to come and play with them whenever you feel like.” Dorothy started playing with the dolls. As time went by, when it struck 3, she realised she had to be back home before her mother came. Saying goodbye to Mrs Mackenzie, she ran to her house, just in time. From that day onwards, she started visiting Mrs Mackenzie’s house to play with the dolls whenever she could, without her parents knowing.

Winter arrived, and the whole town was covered with snow. Dorothy was not allowed to go out. Her mother would drop her off and pick her up from school. Dorothy was getting restless to visit Mrs Mackenzie’s house, and one afternoon, again, the opportunity came along. Her mother had to visit a friend at a cafe downtown. As she had every time, she warned her not to venture out. But this was the time Dorothy had been waiting for so many days. She walked past the snow-clad roads, avoiding slipping and reached Mrs Mackenzie’s house. She was surprised to find the door slightly open. It had stopped snowing, but the door was covered with snow that might have piled up over time. Dorothy picked up the shovel from the porch and dug the snow aside to enter the house. There was a creepy silence all around. She called out to Mrs Mackenzie but could not hear anything. She ran inside to find the elderly lady lying on her bed, her eyes half-open, her face as pale as blank paper. She ran to her.

“Mrs Mackenzie, you are sick. I will call the doctor.”

Mrs Mackenzie’s feeble voice was hard to hear. “I knew you would come, dear. The doctor would not come; no one will come. The townspeople think my dolls and I are cursed. They bring omens.”

“But that’s not true, Mrs Mackenzie; I will tell them.”

“When someone chooses to lead a life on her own, doing her own things, people notice and speculate about what they don’t know. That’s life. My time has come to depart this world, but my dolls will be there. If I had a granddaughter, I would have asked her to turn this house into a museum. I have made hundreds of dolls throughout my life. I have kept them all, all around the house. Promise me, you won’t let them destroy the dolls after I am gone.” Her feeble, veined hands softly pressed Dorothy’s hands, and Dorothy could see the spark of water droplets around her pale grey eyes.

 

After 10 years

Her class was over, and she walked toward the canteen. The 22-year-old Dorothy had enrolled herself at the university for a Master's Degree in Design. This was her second day, and she had made a few friends. Thelma joined her for lunch.

“I am from Bricksbury. Where are you from, Dorothy?” Thelma asked, munching on a carrot.

“From Russelfield”, Dorothy replied from the corner of her mouth while sipping on her juice.

“Wow, you mean you are from the place of Mrs Mackenzie’s Doll House?” Thelma looked at her with round eyes.

“Yes, that’s where I am from, Russelfield, the town famous for Mrs Mackenzie’s Doll House Museum.” Dorothy winked back at Thelma.

This post is a part of #ChalkandDusterBlogHop hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under the # EveryConversationMatters Blog Hop Series sponsored by Bare Bones Publishing