Prosthetic Grin


Chapter 1: Fateful Day

Who is to say no one took notice that fateful day, when the sun scorned a maze of shimmering iron towers and bustling traffic, a multitude of bleak greys and faded life? Somewhere in New York five small figures, mere dots in a sea of black, made their way down a path. Meandering their way about clacking heels and shiny shoes, they came across three bell-clad figures, seemingly magic as they danced to a tuneless song, faces dressed with painted smiles.

A poor beggarman, dressed in rags, emitted the sad and aimless music from a flute; his face was lined with the years gone by. Every so often someone stopped to take notice, regard the dancing toys with wonder, flip a quarter if they so wished. Each generous offer he would pardon with a solemn nod as they continued on their way. “Out of sight, out of mind” was the motto of this servitude to existence.

The leader of the five wandering toys, a small plush with a cowboy hat gave a jerk of their hand, indicating the three dancers. This was West, their unofficial leader who never spoke a word yet resonated a certain strength, amiable to the others, that drew together the group.

“Yeah, they’re living toys as well, no doubt about it,” said Serge, a toy soldier, his tall hat gleaming in the sunlight. “Maybe they’d know others.”

“Worth checkin’ out, brudda,” said a gold, dreadlocked fish, Jabulani. He hobbled on one crutch and wore a necklace of bottle caps and corks.

“I’ll fly ahead! The rest of you, follow me!” Adair exclaimed crazily, a faded-pink butterfly with the tattered remnants of wings. One eye held askew, regarded the three Pierrot clowns as they danced. The others walked past him, giving him strange looks.

“Shut up, worm! Let’s get this over with,” grumbled Alaina, a marionette doll possessing one glass eye, which reflected the scene.

As they approached the beggarman and his three companions, he stopped to regard them, his eyes dark and endless. The beggarman gave a furtive nod and the Pierrots stopped their dance. People began to walk away, bored, no longer intrigued. He had made around ten bucks, meagre, but good enough for lunch.

“What’s this? More of you?” he said in a voice like sandpaper, worn out by the world. “Take a break guys, I’ll be off to Maccas for a time.” With that, he slowly climbed to his feet and skulked away in the masses, his faded grey coat carrying behind him. One couldn’t help thinking that he was simply an apparition, awoken from a dream and couldn’t find his way back.

The toys were left to stare at one another in realization. The tallest of the three Pierrots frowned deeply, sighing disdainfully. “Oh great, you’ve died too! What a horrible world we live in! Purgatory, I tell you.”

“Gosh, we try to talk to you and all you have to say is stupid gibberish?” snapped Alaina, bristling. “Well, of all the nerve!”

“Sorry, he’s always like this,” the two other Pierrot dolls said at once. They appeared to be twins, a boy and a girl.

“So is she,” Jabulani said, smirking at Alaina who snorted and rolled her one eye.

The girl Pierrot wore a tutu and two pompoms on her head to define herself from her male counterpart. They smiled mischievously. “He is Pierre, and we are Dijon and Belle. Grand to meet you.”

Something inside touched the five toys as they observed the two children’s innocent manner. They had been robbed of life, by their own will or not, cursed to exist in a pathetic excuse for living, without breath, without sleep, without sensation. And yet they were responsible for the impartial smiles on their faces, painted, but genuine.

“You actually talk to humans, and they’re not afraid of you?” Serge asked in quiet reverence.

“Yeah, nothing new!” Belle giggled.

“We know alotta people, they help us out!” Dijon added merrily, folding his arms.

“They also take advantage of us,” Pierre simpered bitterly, indicating the beggarman that had vanished from sight.

“Yo man, a fine acquaintance to make. You guys know where we can crash?” Jabulani inquired, his beady eyes twinkling.

“Oh no, not more mouths to feed,” Pierre sighed mournfully. “Do you have anyone who can BREATHE with you?”

West shook his head promptly, to which Serge added, “No, we’re alone. In fact, we thought we were the only ones…until now.”

“How exciting! Whee!” Adair chirped, bouncing gaily. “We must do lunch, sometime!”

“We can’t eat, you idiot. We’re practically dead,” Alaina growled, stepping forward, the sticks and strings swinging at her arms precariously. “So what’s this about knowing others?”

They all stopped what they were doing as they watched Pierre gawk shrewdly at West. West appeared to be uncomfortable, stepping back slowly. “You’re a cowboy, right? That means you’ve got a gun, right?” Pierre bounded forward and latched onto West’s waist. “Then shoot me, for the love of squash! SHOOT ME! END MY CRUEL, SECOND EXISTENCE!!!”

“Let go of him!” Alaina snapped, attempting to pry Pierre off of West. With much effort, he let go and went tumbling back. “How DARE you touch West! He’s only a child! Shame on you!”

Pierre whimpered, curled up in a foetal position and started sobbing hysterically. “CURSE YOU, CRUEL FATE! WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO?!”

They ignored him and went back to talking.

“We will show you where the others are! Come on!” the twins exclaimed together, doing back-flips as they implored the others; Jabulani and Adair attempted to mimic them. “This way! This way!” As cordial were their acrobatics, was Pierre anger when they tripped over him.

“Blaggards! Insipid, vile children of Hades! I wish I had never come across such despicable creatures as you!” he cursed them with breathless scorn. Dijon and Belle simply grinned comically. In time, the group would come to find his insults rather frequent and commonplace. They would become desensitised to his senseless complaints and when looking back, regard them as expressions of love. It was the only way he knew how.



***

Chapter 2: The Others

On the other side of the Big Apple, another group of toys stood in front of a large building, attempting to decipher its true purpose. It stood against the sky, as if to insult the sky’s blue lustre with its morbid colour and jagged points.

“This is it, eh?” said a small sack, as grey as the building that he was glaring at. He was known as Zip, for the zippers that made his mouth and stomach. “Don’t look like much…”

The tallest of the five, a lithe and loopy mime nodded his round head. “Yes, many-a-rumour spread about the colony about this establishment. And there were mentions of it in California, do you not recall? They say that toys run this industry behind the scenes.” He brushed an arm across his chest, which bore a bright red stitched heart on his left side.

“It says it’s a dental clinic on the sign,” Ryan said shortly, folding his arms. And he was right, as standing just on the left side of the building entrance was a sign, displayed with large gothic letters was “BLACKSMITH DENTAL CLINIC”. Ryan was the epitaph of “paperboy”, and not much to look at. He frowned. “I wish Kitty had come.”

“That’s the hundredth time you’ve said that!” Ivy, a vain plastic princess, reprimanded him for the hundredth time. “She’s safe in hiding with the others to “play nurse”! So shut it, already!”

“For once, I agree,” Zip said, scowling at the taller boy. “Quit actin’ like a lovesick puppy…”

“But it is love! TRUE LOVE!” Ryan insisted hopelessly.

“You can’t even kiss, let alone feel anything physical,” Ivy snorted.

“But it’s like food…I remember what it tastes like - I mean, feels like.”

“Ya neva kissed no-one when you lived, as I recall,” Zip said, smirking darkly.

“That’s not the point!” Ryan cried irately. “If I could live one more day, and if I had known that I was going to die…” He held a palm to his forehead dramatically. “I certainly would have kissed any girl I came across.”

“Ew,” Ivy and Zip said at once.

Nique held a hand to his face. “How un-gentlemen-like.”

Isabelle just watched with amusement, smoothing invisible folds in her dress. “We must be getting inside to investigate, should we not?”

Suddenly Ryan whipped his head around and almost shrieked with glee. “FOOD! HOTDOG, MY FAVOURITE!”

Everyone turned and stared in revulsion as he bounded towards a nearby fallen trashcan, its contents scattered across the street corner. Amongst the bits of paper, empty packaging and rotting food protruded a half-eaten hotdog. At once, Ryan grabbed the soggy bun and sausage and shoved it into his mouth. Not possessing an esophageus nor a throat, it merely slid down his front, leaving a heavy reddish stain on his outfit.

“Ya look like you’ve been shot!” Zip snapped, disgust etched in his bulbous, cloth face. “Ah, who needs ya? I dun need ya slobberin’ hotdogs or ya Teetee…”

“T.V.!” everyone corrected him.

“Eh, who cares, huh?” he shrugged, although was slightly flustered.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re the oldest, because you act so immature!” Ivy sniffed airily.

“Eh, respect your Elders, ya friggin’ prissy!” he yelled back.

With a background of silence mingled with horn honking and distant crowds, Nique and Isabelle regarded Ryan. He stood amongst the garbage, staring down at the hotdog, which was slowly falling apart, covered in dirt and who knew what else. It was sad to see him like this. Since the colony had dispersed, he had been having a hard time retaining his sanity.

Death was unfortunately a common thing for all of them, and he was the least able to cope with the stress that death brought. He had clung to Kitty for emotional support, and now that she wasn’t with him (nursing and repairing injured toys back in England), he was beginning to feel isolated, desperate. The others didn’t know how to console Ryan or how to react, so they often responded to his odd behaviour with banter and jokes, most of all Zip, who had been with Ryan the longest.

Suddenly a group of humans, clad in black and wearing sunglasses, came stalking towards the toys. The toys made sounds of fear, but the humans simply walked up the stairs, not heeding them, not even a vague glance in the toys’ direction.

“That’s strange,” Isabelle said, propping a hand under her chin. “They didn’t even notice us.”

“Well, let’s get goin’, then! Come on, ya slob,” he yelled at Ryan, although with a hint of sadness in his voice. “Get movin’, or ya ain’t worth it these days.”

“Gluttonous, much?” Nique added jovially, implying Ryan’s recent attempt at eating. He tried his best to smile (although the action was near-impossible to achieve). “Come now, young sir, we best be on our way. Up to the “dental clinic” you speak of.”

Ryan nodded wordlessly and led them up the stairs. Ivy watched his retreating back with narrowed eyes, but deep inside she wanted to express all her feelings, all her thoughts. She wanted to hug him, although not knowing what good it would do, she wanted to cry with him, letting him know that he wasn’t alone. But for now, she would stay this way, a passive-aggressive bystander, seen only for her bad qualities.

Nique rested an unsteady arm around Isabelle’s shoulders, which she accepted, her long brown ringlets blowing in a breeze made by cars rushing by. Together, they followed the three smaller toys up the stone-grey steps, towards their destiny.



***

Chapter 3: The Building

They had only just entered the building when they gasped in awe. The building was so bright, so clean, so prim inside! Everyone was wearing a combination of black and white: lab coats, business suits, each carrying one or more toy companions!

“What do ya know,” Ryan said in wonder, nearly slipping on the linoleum floor, like a vast chessboard, each man as a pawn.

“Heh. Like a Chess game. Wonder who tha Queen is, eh?” Zip said ironically, but he could not disguise his own amazement.

“If anything’s close to royalty around here, it’s me!” Ivy muttered.

“Check Mate,” Zip said sarcastically, turning to the others. “So, whadda we do now?”

“Split up, I presume,” Nique suggested lightly. “Considering our presence will be generally tolerated. If anyone asks where your human counterpart is, just say they’re having a toilet break or something. Hmmm…” He rubbed his chin and turned around. “There appears to be an information desk down the hall…”

“Let’s check it out,” Isabelle said, taking his hand. Together they wandered off.

“I’m going to the elevator to check the other levels,” Ivy said, frowning slightly. “Do you want to come, Ryan?”

“I’ll go down the left corridor. Check back here in ten,” Ryan said monotonously as he adjusted his hat, turned and left.

“Hmph,” Ivy grunted, flicking a length of hair over her shoulder. “Fine, loverboy, fine. See you, Zip.” With that, she tossed her golden locks and stomped away.

“We make a great team!” Zip said sarcastically and looked up at a row of signs that indicated the use of each level. “Wish I could read…” He squinted at the more interesting-looking sign, trying to decipher its symbols. He scratched his head. “Yeah, the stairs…I’ll take the stairs.” He tried convincing himself that he knew what he was doing, but felt quite afraid of the possibilities. “Man, this sucks.”

He grunted in an effort to reach the top of each stair, when finally he came to the next floor. He brushed the dust off his knees and looked around. There were more corridors and a chest-board floor. “Not much for decoratin’.” He chose to take the left corridor and started scampering forward, passing rooms containing even more people and their toy company. “This is definitely weird. Nothin’ like it,” he muttered to himself and ran headlong into something. He fell back on his head. “Watch it, ya foo!” he exclaimed, climbing to his knees, but was bombarded with yells of surprise.

“West?! Where are your clothes, and you can talk?!” said the toy soldier, looking shocked. He grabbed Zip’s arms and threw Zip over his shoulder. “We must hide you quickly, maybe we can find you some new clothes on the way! Come on!”

“Wha? Who? West?!” Zip said in a flurry of confusion. He only just realized he was being carried.

“I’m sorry, West, I know you don’t like being touched, but you’re indecently exposed!” the soldier said, truly apologetic. “Alaina should know what to do with you.”

Sure enough, they arrived in a large white room with other toys, each as unique and strange as the last. A doll with strange joints and strings hanging from her elbows came leaping forward, looking irately at the soldier. “Who the hell is that, Serge?”

“But Alaina, it’s West…minus the clothes…plus a voice.”

“You idiot! That’s not West!”

“Yeah, I’m not this West guy yous are talkin’ ‘bout!” Zip said angrily, and was dropped instantly.

“Besides, if West could talk, he wouldn’t have such a mundane accent,” Alaina sniffed.

“Hey!” Zip cried defensively. “Who the heck are ya guys?”

“Ooh, a new friend!” exclaimed a disorientated butterfly, that by no means could fly. “What’s your name, chum? I’m Adair. And this here is Jabulani, and this is Serge, and that witch is Alaina – pay her no attention – and we thought you were West, but you’re not West, so who are you again?”

“Zip,” he replied, a little overwhelmed. “Can ya tell meh what this place is ‘bout?”

“Easily, brudda,” Jabulani said sagely. “This place is a refuge for livin’ toys…the government funds this place privately, and not many know about it.”

“It kind of helps toys get back on their feet. They provide counselling and emotional support,” Serge added bashfully, rubbing the back of his hat (Pierre muttered “Never did me any good.”). “You get a human friend and you help each other out. Pierre, Dijon and Belle just so happened to be together, and got this beggar guy…but I don’t know where he went.”

The Pierrot toys waved; albeit one gloomily.

“Really?” Zip said shrewdly, folding his arms. “And how long have ya guys known about this place?”

“About five hours, actually,” Adair said absentmindedly, his smile broadening. “They’re very lovely people. Why, they’re going to pair us up with people too, and we can get new clothes and stuff. I need new wings, mine seem to have broken. That’s why I can’t fly at the moment.”

It sounded a little too good to be true, Zip thought. “I dun want no clothes.”

*

Ivy peeked into yet another room. Each one contained humans and toys. It was rather strange, and she hoped that it was real, that humans knew about living toys, that they could one day live in harmony, that toys were simply another minority in the long line of minorities in the population, like different races, like sexuality, like disabilities…but what category could they possibly be lumped into? “Unfortunately Deceased”? “Rehabilitated Undead”? No way, she thought. It couldn’t be possible. Never.

“Zip?” she uttered, spotting a toy in the corner of her eye. “I thought we were going in separate directions…” She turned slowly to see that the toy wore cowboy attire, a miniature ten-gallon hat and a scarf to cover its mouth. “Wha? You finally caved in and got clothes?! Wow…Zip, I’m sorry for all the bad-mouthing I’ve given you. This look really works for you.” She took his hand and they walked in the opposite direction. Zip appeared to be struggling in her grasp, but she didn’t mind. It must be shocking for him to see a nicer side to her. “When you dress in clothes and when you’ve gotten a bath, how can I not be nice to you?” she said aloud, smiling, several people giving her odd glances. “Although…you do look a little shorter. Did the people here give you these clothes? Didn’t take long, did it? You are awfully silent lately…is something bothering you?”

“Zip” remained silent, having given up the struggle and followed her back to the entrance. Ryan had already returned, leaning against the wall, hands tucked behind his back as his hat fell over his eyes. Nique and Isabelle had also returned, standing alongside each other, talking. Once they spotted Ivy approaching, their jaws dropped.

“Zip?” Nique uttered in amazement. “My, this place must change people for the better…”

“Zip” stared at them beadily.

Ryan raised his head, squinted at “Zip” and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s not Zip!” He walked forward and smiled at the confused-looking cowboy, his front still stained with ketchup and mustard. “Hi, I’m Ryan. Did she frighten you?”

Ivy glared at Ryan. “I didn’t scare him!”

Everyone stared at the cowboy expectantly. He, however, remained silent. At once he turned and ran off. Surprised, the four of them were hot in pursuit, yelling, “wait!” They followed him up four flights of stairs, around a corner and then into a room. What they were met with was the relieved grunt of Zip, and the stair of seven unfamiliar toys.

“Hi everyone,” Ryan said, shrinking in the doorway.



*

Chapter 4: Investigation-Interrogation

“This is a cozy ‘lil’ get-ta-getha,” Zip commented sarcastically, folding his stubby arms as the united group of toys sat in a circle on a bed, covered with crisp white sheets. “So, explain yaselves, ya’ll.”

Although he portrayed himself as an impulsive and impatient individual, Zip was often a surprisingly good listener when it came to other peoples’ stories. He stared intently at West, who could never tell his own tale, due to the inability to speak. All he knew was that West’s head had an unusual heaviness to it.

Serge was an American pilot from the Second World War. During a transfer to Japan, to help salvage the ruins of the devastated country, the plane crashed. His spirit projected into a soldier toy that was meant for a young boy. He hadn’t left it since.

Alaina had been a miserable teenage girl who dreamed of becoming a dancer. She lost her chance during a robbery at a bank and was shot on sight. Her soul perpetuated into the nearest toy; a marionette puppet owned by her little sister. Her new vessel was discarded and feared for being literally a “possessed toy”.

Adair was an eccentric grandfather with many grandchildren who got very involved in his storytelling. The last story he ever told, and cannot recall to this day, caused him to have a heart attack and fall into a coma. He died shortly afterwards, inhabiting a toy left by his grandson at his bedside in hospital.

Jabulani was a Black farmhand in the 1930s, his true name forgotten. He was falsely accused of molesting the farmer’s wife and was hung. His spirit was so sad that it developed the ability to skip different objects and eventually found its way to the custom fish toy.

Dijon and Belle were fraternal twins raised in a well-off home in France. They could not recall their time or cause of death, but were content in the knowledge that they died together and remained inseparable to this day.

Pierre led a miserable, unexplainable life, his depression so severe it perpetuated into his afterlife and forced him to live in the shell of a Pierrot doll whose plastered smile did not penetrate his own sadness. He was left with his worse experiences.

As each tale circulated around the group, each toy became involved in one another’s affairs, offering condolences and encouragement, bereavement and hope for the future. That evening the thirteen toys bonded beyond the heights of human interaction, transcendent to this reality. Their lives would never part in spirit, and they would be friends until the end…

*

Much later they came across the Head Honchos of the Toys, a Ken doll and a Barbie doll fashioned to resemble a vicar and a nun. They were dressed in crisp black and white robes, forever smiling and discernibly “plastic”. They held Sermons every afternoon around three o’clock, professing the Combining of Toys and Humans alike. Zip regarded them coldly, calculatingly, it didn’t seem right. He wasn’t so positive about “cult-like” settings. The two worldly toys had a bodyguard who at first appeared to be a “perfect” human man…until they noticed that his fingers were fused together.

“A clothes store mannequin. Interesting,” Nique whispered amongst them, not really paying attention to the Sermon. “I wonder how that came about. In the old Colony we had thought of using mannequins to capture wandering spirits…but that proved faux. It didn’t work out.”

“And so, my Brothers…and Sisters…it will be that Place in Time when we will walk, arm and arm, towards a new horizon…Thank you.” The vicar Ken doll made a gallant bow as he his final words were met with applause. As he ushered people out the door, Zip approached him.

“Hey, whadaya guys plannin’? Ya think humans are just gonna accept us into society, just like that? Doncha realize there’s gonna be a lotta questionin’ ’bout us? We are kinda all on the “possessed” side o’ things…”

The vicar wore a well-rehearsed smile, and said calmly, “Now, my son, there is nothing wrong with giving people hope. It may take some time to build a general acceptance of our kind, but there is much more good in the world than bad.”

“I neva saw life that way,” Zip said bitterly. “I robbed on the streets since I was young, couldn’t read, couldn’t write, and ‘cos it got too expensive to look afta me, my master put a bullet to my head. How’s that for good o’ mankind?”

“I’m sorry for your previous losses, my son. But bygones will be bygones, we have all had a share of losses…and now we must come together to support each other with our own niche to fill.” He and the Barbie doll looked over at Nique and Isabelle, noting the closeness they expressed for each other. “You know, we do perform marriage services.”

Isabelle’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Nique grimaced and started ushering Isabelle away. “Um, that’s lovely, but we must be off…”

Isabelle pulled away from him, frowning. “What does that mean? You don’t want to get married?”

Nique stammered, looking quite uncomfortable. “It’s j-just that…well, what purpose would marriage serve? We cannot feel…I mean…”

Isabelle glared at him. “Just because I can’t feel you doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you!”

Nique took her hands. “It’s not that. I do…this isn’t the time!”

“It’s never the time for you, Nique!” Isabelle whispered, pulling away.

The priest curtly interrupted. “You know, I was only offering. Marriage that we hold is simply symbolic, gratifying the love two people have for one another, no strings attached. Although the more evident dimension of marriage cannot be fully…expressed…it is the passion that still exists. Some people believe that reassurance is enough.”

“We need to go now,” the Barbie nun said. “But do think about it, dears.” With that the two of them walked off.

Ryan stared after them in wonder. What would it be like to actually wed another toy? A bit of a surreal concept, that was for sure!

Ivy was frowning inwardly. What a weird idea…

“He is actually really nice,” Belle said carefully. “He helped us to forgive others and stuff.”

“Forgiveness isn’t my number one thing, kid,” Zip quipped. “What we’re here for is to find answers…wot is this place all about, eh?”

“We told you before,” Pierre muttered. “Why do you insist on asking? You’re such a selfish child…”

“I’m tha oldest, loser!” Zip yelled.

“Calm down!” Ryan said quickly.

At that moment, the mannequin came walking over to them. He noticed Isabelle and winked at her. “Well hello there, sweetie. The name’s Carlos. Why do you insist on hangin’ around with these…pipsqueaks. I’d offer much more…satisfying company.”

“Excuse me, but I think I’m going to go over here now,” Isabelle scoffed as she walked away with Nique. “I’m sorry, Nique. I didn’t mean to assume that we could just…”

“It’s alright. I would have done it if you’d wanted…” He still looked slightly hesitant.

They smiled at each other and walked off.

The mannequin “hmphed” and followed after the Ken and Barbie dolls.

“That guy’s pretty seedy,” Ivy said quietly, eyes narrowed. “Best we watch out for him.”

*

Every toy they interviewed seemed to hold the same closed-minded perception, that they would be brought to justice, that mankind would accept toys as just a different class of humans…people who, if they so chose, would live forever, would suffer no disease…were people who had achieved immortality and thus transcended above mankind.

“This is hogwash!” Alaina spat, to which Ivy agreed. Unsurprisingly, the two got along quite well. “How can people believe such brain-numbing things?”

“People believe what dey wanna believe,” Jabulani said quietly, concentrating on his crutch.

“No matter how radical it sounds, someone’s beliefs can’t be shattered by simple truths,” Ryan agreed sadly, brushing the dried stains on his front. “Everyone’s concept of reality is different.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Hey, where’s West?” Adair asked absentmindedly. No one could give him a proper answer; Alaina wore the greatest look of concern.



***

Chapter 5: The Discovery

West followed the Ken and Barbie dolls quietly, stealthily in the shadows, around corners and across corridors until they alighted into a glaring room full of tall and brooding figures. Careful to balance his rather weighty head, he peeked around the door.

“There was another questioner today,” said the Ken doll with a hint of fear in his voice. “That’s too many in a short period of time. What if we’re found out?”

“Silence, you fool!” commanded the central figure, brow furrowed with anger. “What can these minorities of pestilence do? They cannot sway the masses with their seemingly inane accusations! This has happened before, and we have but to eradicate such vermin, simply stating that they have “moved onto a better place”. Toy sacrifice is quite common in Eastern cultures. You know that.”

“Yes, but…this one seemed rather adamant,” the Ken doll continued, yanking at his collar. The Barbie doll clung nervously to his arm, and suggested, “Maybe I’m just anxious, but I don’t think he’s familiar to our services.”

“Then we’ll have to enlighten him,” suggested the central figure matter-of-factly. “Or else do away with him!”

“Have you seen them, the others? They are quite new.”

“I did spot a deranged-looking butterfly, but that’s all…”

“But what if they are aware of the Colonial settlements in other nations? The results would be disastrous! If the President hears about this…”

“He will NOT know anything. He’s too busy with the war in Iraq to tend to such trivial matters…also, scepticism is his greatest quality. He points fingers too quickly, so it is left in our hands. We must contain this epidemic on our own.”

West slunk back in the shadows, completely shocked. He had to warn the others!

“What is this?” the mannequin Carlos said conceitedly, grabbing West by the collar and lifting him about his plastic head. “Well, well…a spy. Hmph, no matter. You won’t be warnin’ the others.”

“Can’t have that. Rid of that one,” the central figure said dismissively.

“But sir, I sense that one is a child,” the Ken doll stuttered, looking fearful. “Please, maybe we only have to…keep him under lock and key until the matter is solved.”

“Shut up! That’s nonsense! Kill the thing!”

“Oh no,” the Barbie uttered in horror, her smile receding. “Another innocent child…when will it end?”

*

“WEST!” the scream of twelve toys echoed through the darkened vicinity. They scrambled along hallways in search of the cowboy toy, presumably the youngest of them all.

“Shh!” Ryan shushed them as a tall shadow loomed across the wall.

“What?!” Alaina and Ivy asked angrily. “You’re not the boss of us!”

Ryan waved an apology and held a finger to his mouth to signal silence.

“Oh,” they said as they hid in the darkness and watched as the tall mannequin carried an unconscious West over his shoulder.

“Haha, this’ll shut ya up,” the mannequin said, who ironically didn’t realize that West couldn’t speak at all. “Pay back the lass for rejectin’ me.”

Isabelle placed her hands over her mouth. “How could he?”

“Quickly! We need to hurry!” Ivy urged them, looking meaningfully at Ryan who nodded. “Okay, let’s go!”

They all came running out and tackled the mannequin, causing him to fall onto the ground with a dull thud. Abruptly they bound his limbs and mouth shut.

“HURRY! I HEAR THEM!”

“Hey, you!” yelled a deep, throaty voice.

They turned around, their sight assaulted with the able bodies of twenty men armed with rifles. They made a break for it, an alarm ringing in the distance, either in their minds due to panic or from a security breach.

“This is like back in the war,” Serge huffed as they ran. He was carrying Jabulani and Adair in his arms as they could hardly walk as it was. “Pursued…like a wild animal…in the air…on the field…”

“Instincts aren’t going to help, this time!” Nique cried out in frustration. “There must be an exit somewhere!”

“This way!” Pierre yelled as they ran around a corner and seemed to have lost the men. Everyone leaned against the wall in procession, panting and wiping their brows out of habit.

“This is terrible!” Belle and Dijon whimpered together. “How could they? Why?”

“They want control,” Serge rasped through gritted teeth. “They want to manipulate the toys. Either for their destruction and leading them to other colonies for more culling, or to use toys to control all of society.”

“Either way is bad, and that’s what we came ‘ere to stop!” Zip grated, standing his ground. “Oppression of anyone is wrong! We were once human! We ‘ave a right ta stand up an’ fight!”

“It’s easier to say but when you think about the odds, we’re kinda out-numbered,” Ivy said in between pants. “How do you know we’re even gonna survive this endeavour?!” She looked desperately at Ryan as they ran on. He avoided her gaze. “How are we going to survive? Why are we forced to exist like this, if it has happened for SO LONG and yet, come to nothing?!”

“You’re right! That’s what I’ve been trying to say all this time!” Pierre exploded. “Don’t any of you get it?! We’re doomed! None of that counselling helped, I told you before – just made me feel worse and more dependent on their so-called resources…If only I could eat! I would have overdosed long ago.”



***

Chapter 6: The Last Hope

“We can ask questions for all of history’s sake, but we have to live in the now,” Serge said. “That’s what I learnt during the war. Every moment is a life-or-death situation. Anything can happen. You have to make the best of it.”

Everyone nodded in affirmation, some more reluctant than others.

“We have to survive, so we can let others know about what is to come, to be prepared for the possibilities. Are we all willing to try?” Serge ventured, his eyes fiery with passion. “For those who fall into this way of living, who haven’t got a choice.”

“Okay,” some said. The others nodded once more.

“Then let’s go!” Adair declared, grinning stupidly but meaning well.

“There’s no point in this…” Pierre muttered to himself. “WE’RE OVER HERE! GUARDDDSSSSSSSSSSSS! OVER HERE!!!”

They stared at Pierre in horror.

“It was destiny who chose for us our own Judas,” Nique said ironically. “Go to your tempters, Pierre, but let us go.”

“Don’t you see? We’re all for dead, anyway!” Pierre argued. “They’ll find us eventually.”

“At least we can try to make a difference,” Dijon whispered spitefully as the others turned and ran for it.

“OVER HERE!!!” Pierre continued, only to be met with the nozzle of a gun. His painted eyes widened in realization.

A hollow shot resounded down the halls.

“Pierre,” Belle uttered mournfully. “Dijon!” She grabbed the attention of her brother and they exchanged a nod. The two of them flipped backwards and stood their ground to the oncoming hordes of men.

“Okay!” they said at once and bound up, somersaulting onto the men’s heads, disrupting their aim. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off the walls and into the men’s bodies. Bodies fell like rain. A man wielding a flamethrower stalked towards them, his wrinkled face drawn back in a maddened grin. The beggarman…why? Why was he doing this?

“Don’t worry, children, your pain will end shortly!” he cackled, tears pouring down his cheeks as the Pierrots met the advance of flaming tongues.

“Together,” the twins mouthed wordlessly as the fires consumed them.

Shortly after they had turned to dust, the beggarman turned the flamethrower on himself.

*

“Friends, this way! The alarms do not reach this place!” the Ken doll ushered the others towards a strange door that hadn’t been there before. “We’ll help you out. Their tyranny has gone on long enough. This is not the dream we had strived to achieve.”

They clambered through the doorway, which led down a damp corridor. Everyone remained silent as they moved onward, well aware of the destruction of two innocent spirits that had brought much joy.

“How long has this operation been goin’ on for?” Zip asked the Ken doll, breaking the silence that nearly crushed them.

“For about five years,” he answered calmly, not looking back at them. “We had hoped that there would be more followings. But our branches don’t exceed the US. We have been finding it…difficult…to convince other countries to follow up. The US government undertook this project along with us, funded privately. A dental clinic is simply a guise; no one comes here as we have deliberately built up a bad dental reputation. At first, we thought that they meant well. But after a while it became painfully clear that their motives were sketchy. They only wish to keep the existence of living toys to a minimum. They do not truly wish for peace amongst Man and Toy…that feat is impossible.”

“But earlier on you said it was an attainable goal,” Ryan said, frowning. “You professed words of hope.”

“Empty words, merely to keep the hopefuls subdued and unaware,” he said shrewdly, his arms folded in his long sleeves.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” moaned Ivy, as she received a comforting pat from Alaina.

“Whatever happens, it was meant to happen,” Adair said sagely, his smile never absent.

“Real comfortin’,” Zip said sarcastically.

“But those are true words of faith,” the Ken doll said wisely.

They gradually made it to the end of the corridor and came out into a cosy study. There was a timber desk with plush armchairs placed before an open, roaring fire. They gathered into the room hesitantly across the Persian rug, their heads turning which way and that, taking in every detail of the large space.

“Are you sure we’ll be safe here?” Isabelle inquired.

“Yes, this area is sealed off from all…except from the Head, Mr Blacksmith. But he’s away doing business.”

“I got back early,” said a stern voice.

They all whipped around in horror to see a rather short and round man, his fat fist wrapped tightly around Serge’s neck, who was trying desperately to free himself.

“Serge!” Alaina screamed.

In a flash, Mr Blacksmith stomped towards the fireplace, threw Serge into the flames and shut the fire-grate. All they could do was watch as Serge’s form slowly began to distort. Alaina walked towards the fire wordlessly, her mirror eye reflecting the scene. Mr Blacksmith’s laughter rang in the distance as she placed a cold hand on the grate; Serge mimicked the action, his reassuring smile slowly sliding down his face. He was gone.

Alaina turned around and screamed in fury, advancing towards Mr Blacksmith, a train of curses, meaningless words escaping her lips as she jumped onto his leg and bit his shin. Mr Blacksmith gave a great howl of pain and attempted to shake her off. At that moment two armed guards came bursting through the door.

Adair and Jabulani looked at each other meaningfully and hobbled towards the men. Moments passed as Adair and Jabulani were thrown back and forth between the men, grinning stupidly. “I’m finally flying!” Adair called while Jabulani cried “Watch the hair!” Each time their bodies were exchanged, each time a bit of their bodies fell away until they was fewer than three curls of wool.

Mr Blacksmith was grasping aimlessly in the air until he fell on his face and gripped West’s arm. Carlos came sauntering in wielding a long blade. He advanced towards West, vengeance gleaming in his hollow eyes. Alaina let out a yell of fury and jumped in front of West. West gazed up at Alaina’s plaintive smile as her face slowly slid in half, the pieces landing beside each other on the floor. At that moment, West found his voice, a hole opened by Carlos’ blade striking through the doll’s face.

“ALAINA!”

Zip grabbed West by the waist and yanked him along. While this had happened, Nique and Isabelle had upturned the fire-grate and allowed the fire to spill out onto the carpet. Haste a blessing at that moment they headed for the open window. More men were gathering in the room, helping Mr Blacksmith to his feet and pursuing the toys to the window ledge.

“Hurry!” cried the Barbie doll, her nun hat falling away from her head revealing a mop of dark brown hair. “All of you are able to survive the jump! We will bring an end to all of this!”

“But what about you?!” Isabelle cried.

The Ken doll smiled ruefully. “Don’t worry about us. We are the instigators of this great Sin…we will be the ones to end it. If you wish for us to stay in your memories, which is true Immortality, my real name is Robyn and she is Kirsty. Farewell, my friends.”

“Children, we will meet again, on another plane!” said Kirsty as she turned around and charged at their assailants with a gun.

The room suddenly exploded with flames, a force so great that it sent the six toys careening towards the cement path that awaited them below…



***

Chapter 7: Another Day, Another Doll

Ivy’s sight refocused as the scene flashed before her eyes: scarlet tongues lapping at the charcoal sky, glaring a vibrant, orange light across the road, across cars, across pavement. How could this happen…more death, more destruction? Ryan put a hand on her shoulder, frowning deeply as he too gazed at the destruction before them.

Five toys stood transfixed across the street as sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Dogs howled from far away, smelling the acrid burning in the air.

A small, feeble cry broke the convoluted silence. They all turned to regard the gallon-hatted child. He was hunched over, staring down at something large and gleaming. It was a nugget of gold. Then there were more, one after the other, dropping from West’s tear for a mouth. Slowly, Zip edged over to the little boy and squatted beside him.

“You a’ight, kid?” he asked carefully, reaching out.

West’s head snapped up and he gazed at Zip. “I’m not a kid…” he muttered in a high, broken voice. “I was old, once.” He peered down at the gold. “The Gold Rush…my only family was this gold. They kept my head and heart heavy. Now I am free.”

They all stared at him, transfixed. West was, in fact, older than even Zip.

“He must have retained a child-like spirit, even in old age,” Isabelle murmured.

Ivy stepped forward and gently lifted West onto her back. Quietly she asked the others to gather the gold, so they could make a run for it.

“Oh no you don’t!” came a petulant voice.

A shot fired in their direction, sending sparks into the darkness. There remained a cluster of black suits, advancing towards them whilst uniformed officials tended to the blaze. By the expressions on their faces, they were livid with anger.

“Quickly, everyone! Move!” Nique shouted, stepping forward at once. “Run!”

While the others retreated, the men advanced on the lithe-limbed toy. Nique poised himself slowly and using his curled toes, bound swiftly into the air. As they soared forward he came rocketing down in a circle, sending his limbs whooshing in perfect arcs, sending the men careening into the ground. Once he landed on his feet, he muttered, “I’ve always wanted to do that!” and followed after the others, post-haste.

*

“No recollection of the others?” Ryan echoed, his voice hollow. “How can you forget…such significant people in your life?”

“Yes,” Isabelle said, nodding sadly. “Sometimes a person unconsciously wants to forget such subjects of trauma – even the most precious people in their life – and seal it away inside. West’s intent to forget is so great that it has perhaps dissipated from mind. His spirit is fragile, so for his own sanity, he has shut them away. Forever.” She closed her eyes. “It would help to be able to shed tears, right now.”

Nique brought her into his arms as she drew a shuddering breath. “They will have never truly left us,” he said wisely, though he too was on the verge of crying.

In the distance, Ryan could see a small motley group of people. Having escaped from the flaming building, each was singed with ash, dust and grime. Some stood and hunched and whimpered at the sight of the blaze. Some wailed with the deepest sorrow. A young woman clutched a bear whose stomach had been torn, stuffing slowly spilling out onto her lap.

Folding his arms, Ryan turned away to watch the others. Zip and Ivy sat beside each other just talking about West. The child brought them together, if only slightly; he was the link to their friendship. Ryan felt a pang of jealousy at the smile that touched Ivy’s lips when Zip threw his arms back and started laughing. What was so funny about such a situation? His envy receded at the moment when Ivy began to cry. She cried long and anguished sobs as she leaned into Zip’s shoulder. Zip appeared to feel awkward, not interrupting but patting her idly on the head.

Ryan turned away, not wanting to see any more sorrow. He’d had his share.

*

Atop a tall, grey building, facing smouldering ruins of a once great building, six toys stood in a circle, each carrying with them a golden nugget. They ceremoniously cast the yellow stones into the centre of the circle, one by one, reciting the names of the fallen.

“Jabulani,” Nique said, tossing his nugget into the middle.

“Alaina,” Ivy murmured, casting her piece onto the last.

“Serge,” Ryan mouthed wordlessly, and followed the same process.

“Adair,” Zip muttered, discarding of the golden treasure.

“Dijon, Belle,” Isabelle sighed, casting two yellow stones into the pile.

After a moment’s hesitation, in unison they uttered, “Pierre.”

“Oh – AND Kirsty, AND Robyn,” Zip added hastily, his eyes shifting back and forth.

The others muttered apologetically. “Erm, sorry, sorry…”

Ivy lifted a flower, a meagre daisy found in a patch of grass in the gutter. She scrunched it in her small fist and let its remnants fly with the wind, a scatter of yellow specks on the breeze, falling away, away…

West watched the scene with curiosity, unable to understand. Yet somewhere, deep inside of his soul, he felt a twinge of loss.

*

It had been three days as they set out across the sea. Ryan and Ivy sat on the edge of the ship, watching the sun descending in the sky.

“It looks like the sky is slitting its wrists…the lines of red…it’s blood flowing into the sea…”

Ryan looked at Ivy with widened eyes. She had a tinge of pink to her pale face. “Um, what?” he asked blankly.

Ivy smiled strangely and stood up, her golden hair billowing off her face, obscuring her tiara. She glanced down at him with a twinkle in her eye and turned away from him. “You know,” she said after a brief silence, “if you keep lingering in the past, you can never truly move on.” She sighed softly and turned back to him. “I’ve changed, Ryan. Things change and we need to get on with it. And…we’ve been through so much together.”

Ryan stared at her, unfalteringly. “And you’re saying this, because…?”

She smiled sadly and kneeled in front of him. Ryan flinched, nearly falling over the edge, however Ivy caught him just in time. They stared at each other for a long while, the silence eating away at time.

“When you smile, I wish it were only for me,” she said seriously. With that, she let go of his wrist and walked away.

Ryan slowly turned to regard the sea. How could he have not seen how she felt? When he thought of Kitty now, she was like a distant memory that had been blown away that day the daisy petals scattered. He didn’t want to lean on others for support anymore. He didn’t want to bring any more pain. He wanted to find his own strength, but before he did, he had to bring his own closure.

“I wonder if…if Ginevra truly moved on…if she isn’t just some lost soul, searching for something that she can’t have.” He clenched a fist. “That’s what’s been bothering me, even more so than my father and the many deaths we’ve witnessed. I just want to know, is she okay?” As if speaking to a higher power, he yelled, his voice meeting the abyss of endless waves. “Is she really okay?!”

“Whadaya talkin’ ‘bout, foo?!” Zip’s voice boomed from behind. He nudged Ryan. “Make room for me. I wanna yell, too.”

Together the two of them yelled incoherently into the distance, where the sky and sea met on a shimmering horizon. They could never forget about the experiences they had been through. But once the sun came to dawn, they could face the future with genuine plastic grins.

Because of the indistinctive sounds made about the cruise, occupants of the ship believed the ship to be haunted, and so it was decommissioned that following month.

The six reunited with the Colony, hoping to be sent on yet another mission (when it was deemed emotionally safe).

*

Ryan peaked his head from behind the wall, his gaze shadowed by the cap of his hat. He watched as Kitty lifted the needle and thread with precision, then slowly descended into the torn ligament of a plush bear. This pattern was repeated with poise, her gaze gentle as she tended to effortless work on yet another patient. Not a thread was out of place.

That was Kitty; always so proper, so dedicated that she had mastered a usually tedious craft. West sat silently beside the cracked porcelain doll, watching with a gaping tear for a mouth, engrossed in her artistry. But as Ryan gazed at her soft featured-smile, that flutter that often erupted inside of him was beginning to fade. It was time for him to let her go, and to find himself. He did not want her to be hurt in yet another mission, and so he planned to leave for good with his four companions.

“Hey!” whispered a soft voice over his shoulder.

Ryan turned slightly to come face-to-face with Ivy. He flinched and stumbled back, bracing himself against the wall. Ivy’s lips were upturned in a tiny smile. Her eyes seemed to glow with something uncertain, new to him.

“Uh, er, y-yeah?” he mumbled, not wanting to look her in the eyes.

“It’s almost time. The others are ready,” Ivy answered softly, a tone so unusual it made his insides squirm (if he had insides other than fluff). She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to say good-bye?”

Ryan shook his head resolutely and gestured that they walk away. Before they walked on into the shadows, he took one fleeting glimpse over his shoulder. Kitty was mending, forever mending. An angel to the plastic, the torn and careworn.

Together the five walked beside each other out into the snowy night, unto a great adventure. They were leaving this place for good and the memories that reverberated off the walls in its silent haunting manner. They would finally find their place out there.

“Hope you’re well, Ginevra,” Ryan mouthed wordlessly as he realized the new horizon that lay before them.

*

In the Place That Never Existed, she was a single face in an endless sea of faces. The young girl with tight blonde curls smiled bemusedly.