Read Hollow Dolls, The for Free Online Page A

with
a tourniquet on her leg, her face turned to the viewer, still alive. In the
drawing, Winnie herself looked out at the viewer while chewing on the flesh.
She’d been successful at giving herself ‘that look’, the one Mel saw in her.
Plus she had drawn the blood on her own lips and cheeks. It was her eyes and all
the subtle nuances of Winnie’s expression. She’d done it over and over until
Mel said it was right. The drawing hung in a gilded frame in Winnie’s living
room for some time. During one of her impulsive furies, Winnie had smashed it
open and burnt the drawing.
    Winnie
pulled out the little blade in her nail clippers and cut eyes in her wrists
like Mel’s. She felt warmer inside. Closer to her, bringing their connection
back to where it belonged. She watched the pink escape into the water. Mel
didn’t care anymore about cuts or blood. Neither of them did.
    The
tub needed filling every fifteen minutes or so. Winnie turned the hot on and
Mel paddled to circulate it. They drank some more, then Winnie added more hot
water. They’d usually top it about five times, turn to prunes and get out.
Winnie kneeled in front of  Mel. She carefully took Mel’s bandages off and kissed
her little eyes. She compared them to hers. Hers were still open. Fresh, not
bleeding that much anymore.
    Then
Winnie started talking about the woman with the long dark hair. It made her restless.
She thought of Mel with her black hair. She tried teasing by biting on her
nipples. Mel was fading in and out.
    Winnie
went back to her end, turned sideways away from the faucet and blasted more hot
water into the tub. She stuck her finger in and out of the water flow, saying,
‘Ow,’ each time in a low, monotone voice.
    Mel
stirred. She told Winnie in a groggy voice about the Man-Rabbit and the island.
It took her almost a solid minute to find the little white rabbit in her jeans
pocket on the floor so she could show Winnie. Winnie reached over and picked up
Mel’s bottle of xannies.
    “I
want to go...to the island,” said Winnie. She took the cap off and poured half
in her palm. Popped them in her mouth and swallowed them all down with rum. Mel
took the rest, then dropped the empty plastic bottle over her shoulder. It
bounced around on tile floor and then it was quiet, except for the empty sound
of the water in the drain.
    “Hollow
dolls,” said Winnie.
    Mel
took the rum and filled the glass tumblers that said 500 ML on the bottom. The wallpaper
rabbits changed as they sat at each end and sipped their rum. Rabbits. Hands.
Rabbits. Hands. Winnie tucked her fingers in between each of Mel’s toes on both
feet.  
    Mel
watched Winnie’s eyes roll around. They wanted to roll back and stay there. They
pulled forward at the last second and looked right at Mel’s.
    “I
guess I should say something important,” said Winnie.
    “You
just did.”

 
    5
    Twelve hours later, Mel’s eyes fluttered open slow and mechanical.
Winnie was bent forward like a doll whose batteries had gone dead. Mel noticed
Winnie’s face had a blue tinge. Her neck felt cold like plastic. She was alive.
The floor of the tub had dried urine and barf all over it. She almost threw up
again. Mel stood, fell out of the tub, clutching the shower curtain, and did
throw up. On the floor, clamouring in puke, she insisted she could stand and
did so, knocking her knees and bumbling around like a newborn giraffe.
    She stood back in the tub and hosed everything down with the
shower head, then dried her plastic Winnie doll. Something pinged inside, like
a tiny voice. She checked Winnie’s pulse automatically. As Mel held her fingers
to Winnie’s wrist, she saw her own hand as a nurse’s hand, as though it were attached
to a third person who was there with them. The nurse wrestled Winnie’s
housecoat onto her limp body and carried her to the couch.
    They both slept for another six hours. Mel woke to hear Winnie
puttering around. They drank coffee, hated themselves worse than