Doll Face

Politics, Forgiveness, and Tea

Halloween Day

"He doesn't want to see me," Velma grumbles as she hastily tosses her cigarette on the ground.
"Of course he does, he's our dad. He'd love to see you," Sally tugs on her arm, pulling her up the hill to Dr. Finklestein's laboratory; an immense building with an orb on top of a brick cylinder and a barred up circular window. The two sisters ease their way up, both skeptical of going inside. Velma hasn't stepped foot in this place for years. She was a teenager when she ran away and she hasn't seen the inside of this place since then. Sally never got along well with their father either, but the two of them has developed a distant and polite relationship since the wedding.
Velma wonders hesitantly, "Will Jewel be there?" Ever since her suicide attempt–– or as Jewel had called it–– a cry for attention, Jewel decided she was toxic for the family and even threatened to cut her out of the will. Transfixed on the memory, she comes to a stop.
Sally then notices her sister's retraction as she reclaims her arm, refusing to go any further. "That was five years ago––" She argues, attempting to tug on Velma's arm.
"You didn't answer the question." She pulls back.
"She doesn't blame you for that anymore."
"Sally..." There's a hint of panic in her tone. Velma can almost feel her nerves pulsating beneath her fabricated skin as she plays with a loose thread on her left wrist. She's been meaning to snip it off for weeks but is almost relieved she hadn't yet so she'd have something to fidget with when anxiety got the best of her.
Noticing this, Sally takes her sister's hands. "I talked to them both. They don't care about the past, they're just excited to see you," she beams.
Velma considers this for a moment. After a while, she nods and the two of them reach the top of the hill. They approach the front door and Sally knocks. Velma can feel her heart banging against her chest, her nerves causing her hands to tremble at her sides and breathing heavily.
After what feels like an eternity, the door swings open with Jewel on the other side to greet them. She's wearing a white, mink coat over her off-white dress embedded with pearls. Her blonde hair is tied up in a slick bun. She gleams at the sight of Sally and Velma with her red lips. "You made it! Oh please, come in and take your shoes off if you would," she says excitedly as she gestures for them to enter. Sally is surprised when she sees what Jewel has done with the place. It's not nearly as drab as it was when she left it. The walls have floral wallpaper and there's actually decent furniture; a living space and dining room with polished mahogany and potpourri. The wheelchair slope is now carpeted and there's a large chandelier on the high ceiling. It's all very elegant. Sally wishes it had looked like this when she was living here. Jewel continues talking excitedly and non-stop, "Was the walk okay? Not too cold out I hope. Oh, which reminds me, I'll start a fire in the common room. Do you ladies want anything to drink? I have hot apple cider."
"No thanks, Jewel," Sally declines politely. "I love what you've done with the place," she admires. They follow her into another room where there is a cream-colored mantel on the wall opposite of them and a lovely lounging space with cushioned seats and white lace.
"Aw, thank you! We just got the kitchen done as well."
Sally and Velma seat themselves comfortably while Jewel starts the fire.
"That should do it," she says matter-of-factly to herself while stabbing the flaming log with her iron pole. She takes a folded blanket from Sally's lounge chair and wraps it around Velma. "You look cold. It's good to have you back, sweetie," she rubs her shoulders lovingly. "Your father should be down any minute. He's been up in that lab for hours on end, not a single meal break. I tried sending up a bowl of snake and spider stew, but he just insisted I stay out of his way."
"Next time try frog's breath," Sally suggests, remembering the days she used to cook for him, "That's his favorite."
Taking this into consideration, Jewel nods and smiles almost too graciously. She turns to admire her reflection from the round mirror over the mantel and reapplies her lipstick.
"So..." Velma says through the uncomfortable silence. "What are your plans for Halloween?"
"Oh you know," Jewel trails off; entranced by the bayberry-scented candles she has lit over the fireplace. She continues, "Sophia and Maria are having a party that evening. I usually join them being as your father doesn't care much for going out."
Sally wonders, "Who are Sophia and Maria?"
"Oh, lovely girls from my spells class. You know them from their acapella group. They particularly enjoy singing around this time of year."
Velma exclaims in total fascination, "You're friends with ghosts?"
"They prefer to be called, 'transparent people.' 'Ghost' is a derogatory term. We had a whole town meeting about it a few months ago during the mayoral election. Things got kind of ugly when one of the candidates threatened to ban them from the town... something about building a barrier to keep them out," Jewel scoffs as she seats herself on the sofa across from Sally and Velma.
"That's ridiculous. If they're transparent they can just walk right through it. Nothing can keep them out," Velma reasons as she reclines in her seat, starting to feel a little more relaxed.
"Yes well, some people are just plain naive. Why anyone would vote for that guy is beyond me," Jewel smirks. Sally and Velma snicker in agreement.
"I'll drink to that," Sally chimes.
Jewel stands to her feet, still laughing. "Right, right, let me get those drinks." She adjusts her dress and steps out of the room into the kitchen.
After a few silent and anticipated moments of the two sisters sitting quietly, they hear a soft hum coming down the slope, growing louder as it gets nearer. As he rolls in with his electric wheelchair, Dr. Finklestein croaks in his aging voice, "What is so funny that I can hear you all the way from my lab?" He parks himself by the fireplace and continues, "Ah Sally, how are you, my dear?"
Sally gets up from her seat and bends over to kiss him on the cheek, "Hi dad, I'm doing just fine."
Dr. Finklestein takes her hands while gazing up at her through his glasses, "You're looking thin. Are you taking good care of yourself? Eating all right?"
"Yes, dad..." She says with a tinge of annoyance as she rolls her eyes.
"And how's our Pumpkin King? Is he ready for the big day?"
"He is."
"Is he treating you well?"
"Yes."
"Good, good."
"Dad, look who's here to see you," Sally gestures to Velma as Dr. Finklestein notices her for what seems like the first time in the last twenty seconds.
Dr. Finklestein pulls down his glasses to get a clearer view as if he can't believe his eyes but is trying his best not to seem too thrilled by her presence. "Yes, I see. I'm not blind you know," he says defensively. Both he and Velma share a loss for words as they continue to gawk at one another.
Jewel enters the room again with a silver tray of three glasses of apple cider. She quietly sets it down on the coffee table before them and places the glasses on their individual coasters. For a split moment she stands there looking at everyone and wondering why it's exceptionally silent, but then she nods to herself and says, "I should go check the laundry." She decides as she takes her glass of cider and hurries out the room with the silver tray in her other hand.
"I'll help," Sally quickly states as she also takes her glass and follows Jewel out the room and into the kitchen.
Dr. Finklestein studies Velma for what feels like an endless amount of time. She shyly sinks her eyes to the floor, fishing her mind for something, anything to say. She takes her glass of cider and gulps most of it down in frustration.
"You're––uh–– you're looking well," the doctor finally says. He forces a smile upon his pale, wrinkled face.
"Thanks," she mumbles back. Suddenly guilt seeps its way into her, streaming through her veins and causing her to want to vomit. She thinks about all the awful things she's done over the years; making his life difficult, insulting him, and being downright ungrateful. She can't bear to look him in the eyes while also remembering the time she stuck razors in his candy apple when she was fifteen. He had to get stitches for weeks. Thirteen years ago she would have laughed, but now the memory is sickening. She feels vile, repulsive. She wants to apologize and leave, never looking back, never thinking about him again. She stands up from her chair, but she just stays there, forcing herself to look at him. He sits and waits but doesn't say a word. Finally, she walks closer to him. She looks him in the eyes, reliving her hellish past until she can't hold it in any longer. She falls to her knees and collapses on his lap. Tears leaking down her face as she sobs, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She wails uncontrollably.
At first, the doctor is perplexed as he struggles to comprehend what's happening, but then he gently soothes her, not saying a single word, just caressing her hair and holding her close. The two of them grab hold of one another, tears streaming down both of their faces. He doesn't cry tears of sorrow, but tears of joy as he holds his daughter, his creation, in his arms. Reunited at last.
"There's nothing to be sorry about, my dear." He continues to stroke her fuchsia hair.
At last, she looks up at him with mascara smeared around her watery eyes and sorrowfully says, "I was terrible, I was the worst––"
"None of that matters now." He wipes the tearstains from under her misty eyes with his thumb and moves her hair behind her ears so he can get a better look at her. "I'm just glad you're here," he beams.
"I'm sorry about the razors in the apple. I'm sorry about faking my pregnancy when I was sixteen. I'm sorry about the drugs. I'm sorry about being such an awful daughter to you," she continues bawling. "You don't deserve to have someone as horrible as me."
"You're not horrible." He says matter-of-factly.
"Yes, I am!" She wails.
"Shhh." He soothes.
She screams angrily, "Stupid. I'm so stupid!" She combs her fingers through her hair, violently rocking back and forth. She crumbles to the floor, drowning in self-loathing. The doctor moves his chair beside her to position himself so that he is looking down at her from the side and can easily reach her head. His heart shatters as he watches her fall to pieces.
"You are many things, my dear, but 'stupid' is not one of them."
Velma slowly starts to calm down. After a couple of minutes, she sits up on her knees and collects herself as she regains her breath. Finally, she asks, "Then what am I?"
The doctor places his gloved hand under her chin and lifts up her head so she's facing him. Then he says matter-of-factly, "You are loved. Loved by so many people who would do anything for you. You are not 'stupid' nor worthless and you are most certainly not a disappointment." A smile slowly grows on her face. She rubs her eyes, which are now bloodshot and filled with hope. "Please accept my forgiveness and stay for tea."