"Living Dolls"

A large duel wheel black pickup truck made its way up the long deserted road. All the windows were tinted dark so no one could see into it. The lights reflected off the wet asphalt of the road. The radio was playing old country music as it whined higher up the road.  The head lights cut beams into the thick mist and fog. As it traveled higher up the road the mist turned into a light rain. The truck pulled to the edge of the overlook at the top of the cliffs. As the truck turned, the head lights hit a marker, the words Johnson’s Cliffs, could be read. The marker described that on this spot, was where European settlers found villages of Indians of the great Algonquin tribe. Below the waves crashed on the rocks.

From the edge of the near by woods a deer lifted its head and watched the truck as it rolled to a stop. The deer stood with its head high, ears perched forward; ready to run if necessary, as it watched the truck for several minutes.  Satisfied it is in no danger, the deer went back to eating the patches of grass near a tree trunk.

The truck door opens and the light inside reflexes on the payment. As the dark figure stepped onto the pavement, he looked both ways, to assure himself that no one was coming.

The deer lifts its head at the movement and runs a short way into the woods. Then it stopped to look back to see if its fears of being tracked were true. It stood stature still and watched as the human left the truck. The deer lifts his nose and sniffed the air. There was an unsettling scent to this human; the deer quickly, yet quietly disappeared into the brush.

The man had his hat pulled low on his face, and as he walked, he limped, giving to his right leg.  He was completely hidden by the long black topcoat he wore. Slowly he circled the truck, opened the passenger side door. He stood for a few seconds and stared inside the truck. As he reached in, he took his gloved hands and pulled a large black trash bag from the floor. One could not tell what it contained, but it was heavy enough that he had to use both hands to lift it. He held the bottom so as it would not tear. He gently sat it down on the wet pavement. Then turned and closed the truck door.

Once again he lifted the bag, but this time he cradled it in his arms as one would a child. He seemed in no hurry as he walked to the edge of the cliff. In fact he had stopped twice and stood still and looked down at the item in his arms. He was singing softly, as he walked. It was a strange tune, about trees and birds and little girls. Even listening hard you could not make out the words. It was as if he made it up as he limped along. He staggered a bit from his load as the wind blew harder when he reached the edge of the cliffs. Over head the clouds part away from the full moon allowing its light to come through. As it brightened, he looks up at it as he neared the edge. All one could see was his profile, bearing a resemblance to the paper black silhouette profiles in the frames.   He was not a large man; in fact he was average in statue. The long black coat concealed him so one would not know if he was heavy or thin. He wore boots, but this time of year everyone here wore boots.

It seemed the burden he carried was causing him distress. He limped more and more with each step towards the edge of the cliff. He seemed to have difficulty breathing, he stopped again to rest. He sat the bag on the ground and took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. He shoved the handkerchief deep into his back pocket.  Then he picked up his load and started again. He was near the edge and the wind rattled the bag in his arms. He stepped over the protective metal rail that lined the overlook. He rocked for a second which gave the impression he would fall over the edge. At the last second he caught his footing and stood with one leg on each side of the rail. The he sat on it, rocking the burden in his arms. He still sang his song.  He seemed in no hurry at all. He swung his leg over.  He rose and took the few steps to the edge. The water below crashed on the rocks. He stopped once more. He stood there, swaying back and forth, as he debated throwing the item over the edge. Then he shook his head and laid it on the edge. With a slight push it slid down the cliffs onto the rocks below.