Dolls

Chapter 3: Worms and Birds

     "Faaathherr!" I called down the steps to the basement.

     He was down there working again, although he wouldn't tell me what it was. He said it was a surprise though, but that's it. My curiosity was still raging in my mind, trying to tempt me into sneaking downstairs and night while he was sleeping. But, I'd been forbidden to go back down every since my first day of Existence. When I asked why I couldn't go Father always answered saying that I was too bright for the darkness down in the basement. I wasn't really sure what he meant but Father always seemed to know what he was talking about, so I decided to obey his word and not go to the basement.

     "I'm working, Charlotte. What is it?" Father replied, his gravely voice bouncing off of the walls back up to me.

     "I made us some lunch. Why don't you come upstairs and have something to eat. You can't stay down there all day anyways, it's not good for you," I told him, leaning me head through the doorway, holding myself back by bracing my hands on either side of the door frame.

     A soft chuckling came from the basement, growing nearer as Father began to make his way to the stairwell. "Now, where on earth did you learn that?" He inquired, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he looked up at me, ascending the stairs slowly, taking his time.

     "In those magazines you have sitting on the coffee table," I pointed to them. They looked old. The pages were yellowed and the covers were crinkled as if they had been touched by hot coffee one too many times. "They said that it's bad for someone to stay in the dark or to stay cooped up somewhere for too long," I explained to him as I led him into the kitchen where freshly cooked spaghetti noodles were laying in a plastic strainer. A bowl of microwave meat sauce sat next to the strainer and two empty dishes lay next to that.

     Father chuckled in amusement once again, "They did, huh? Well, you shouldn't listen to what those old things say," He told me, his amusement seeming to fade for a moment as he sat down at the small, wobbly dinning room table as I grabbed one of the plates, filling it with noodles and sauce.

     "Why not?" I asked him curiously as I set the plate full of food down in front of him before turning back to make a plate for myself. I placed the remaining noodles onto my plate and poured a thin layer of sauce over top them as Father explained.

    "Well, for one they're about as old as me. So they're not all that accurate," He said, pausing to put a fork full of spaghetti noodles into his mouth.

     "Secondly," He began, quickly swallowing before continuing, "Those magazines are biased, meaning they're written from the views of only one person. So they arn't very trustworthy either. Those things lie, Charlotte," Father told me, "You'd best not take anything they say to heart."

     "Oh," I murmured, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth since I seemed to have nothing else to say. I guess that was true. They did look pretty old, and Father was probably right that some of the ideas put in those magazines could be debated. I quickly vowed to never read those magazines again.

     "Anyways, Charlotte," Father began. I glanced over at him as he spoke, surprised to see that his plate had already been wiped clean. "Thank you for the meal," He said, smiling.

     He got up and made his way over to the sink, rinsing his plate and placing it on the metal, "It really was delicious, but I have to get back to my work," He told me, leaning over to kiss me softly on the forehead before he stepped out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

     "Wait! Father!" I called out to him, shooting up from my chair and rushing to catch him before he made his way to the basement door.

    "What is it Charlotte?" He asked, turning to look at me as I rounded the doorway and stepped into the hallway.