Dolly Departed

Stop with the excuses. Isn't that part of recovery? No more excuses?

The clothes didn't do it. You did. Six months without a drink, and now this.

Joseph hears a murmur of voices outside the lobby, near the meeting room. Carl will stay behind to make sure the room is in the same condition he found it in before the meeting. He will turn off the lights and lock up for the group. Responsible Carl. Solid, perfect, example-setting Carl. Believe in the power of God. Sit quietly when in doubt. Joseph reviews the principles of Alcoholics Anonymous. The Twelve Steps. But his mind wanders, and he tries to remember the night before Charlie died. He wants a cigarette so badly his entire body is trembling. He can't remember. More minutes of his life unaccounted for. Wasn't it the blackouts that finally scared him enough to seek help for his drinking problem? He could live with the morning-after sickness, but not remembering. .

The massive church doors open and close several times, and the voices die away.

He has the list in his pocket, one of the steps. It contains every person he has harmed with his actions.

One more to add.

But there will be no making amends this time. The woman is dead.

Joseph rises slowly and moves back up the aisle like an old man.

Carl turns from the meeting room door, and their eyes meet.

Joseph thinks his sponsor can see right into his very soul. Carl's face is a sea of tranquillity and, for a moment, Joseph hates him for it. 'Joseph.' Carl acknowledges his existence, then waits.

Joseph almost breaks and runs. Sweat seeps into his shirt. He's come this far, might as well finish what he started.

'Help me,' he says. 'I'm in trouble.'

18

Contests: How could the doll community exist without awards for excellence? Collectors and dealers alike anxiously await these announcements. Competition is friendly but fierce. Judges with scorecards move among the exhibits. The crowd's excitement builds while the contestants covet the grand prize. Winning means recognition, blue ribbons to display, prize money. Sometimes the top award leads to a feature in a reputable doll magazine seen by thousands of readers.

– From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch Gretchen took a deep breath, savoring the fresh, early morning desert air. She wore hiking boots, a baseball cap, and binoculars strapped around her neck. She had already added many of Phoenix's local birds to her list: rock wrens, roadrunners, black-throated sparrows, and the elusive Gila woodpecker that builds its nest in saguaro cactus holes. She wanted to burn off her tension with a rigorous climb up Camelback Mountain. If she discovered a new bird, it would be a bonus.

The morning was still too chilly for snakes to be slithering about, and that suited Gretchen just fine. Bugs and snakes creeped her out, especially the poisonous kind that dwelled in the Sonoran Desert.

She strode along the footpath to the trailhead, past a creosote bush in full yellow bloom and a thicket of teddy bear cholla dominating a rocky slope. The teddy bear cholla looked furry and cuddly, but Gretchen had learned the hard way that it wasn't as huggable as it appeared. She had been careless and brushed against one of these silvery, tall cacti. Its spikes had reminded her that only those with very developed defense systems survived the harshness of the Sonoran Desert. It was always best to admire desert beauty from a safe distance.

February was a marvelous month in Phoenix, she decided, veering to the left and following the path to Summit Trail. Spring rain showers cleansed the desert dust away, blossoms sprouted from the tips of the different varieties of cacti, and the sun hadn't yet baked the earth hard and brittle.

She lost track of time as she began to maneuver over slippery rocks. The incline became steeper, and she dug in. At last she stood at the summit, looking off over the awakening city. This was the top of the world for Gretchen, a place to hide and think.

She sat down and studied the sheer, red cliffs, vegetation cropping out in the most unlikely places. Her thoughts turned to Charlie Maize's death and the people involved in the doll shop owner's life. Why had Joseph lied about attending the parade? What was the story with Charlie's druggie son, Ryan? Did the craggy old man, Bernard, have designs on Charlie's shop? And Britt? What about her? Something about that woman seemed weird. A roadrunner watched boldly from a few yards away. When Gretchen remained motionless, it went back to its task of hunting lizards. The answers to her questions didn't come to her on the top of the mountain, as she thought they might, not even a whisper to calm the disquiet she felt.

Gretchen hiked back down the red clay mountain and joined Nimrod and Wobbles for breakfast, opening cans of dog and cat food for them, toasting a bagel and pouring coffee for herself.

Then she went to work on a client's antique doll. Gretchen fished through a drawer and found a white leather glove. After studying the doll's kid body, she set about preserving the doll's original body as closely as possible: stuffing sawdust into the doll's ripped torso, carefully cutting a piece of the glove into an oval and gluing it on.

She was putting away the repair supplies when she heard her mother call out a greeting.

'Hey,' Gretchen raised her voice. 'I'm in the workshop.'

'You're up early.' Caroline plopped down on a stool.

'It's good to be home. I'm staying put, no more book tours for a while.' She picked up the doll that Gretchen had just finished. 'Nice job on the kid body.'

'Thanks.'

'Evie Rosemont called yesterday. She wanted to know how the room boxes were coming along.'

'Do I know Evie Rosemont?' Gretchen asked, trying to place her.

Caroline laughed. 'You'd remember if you did. She's a hoot. Never stops talking. Wears enormous hats. She must have hundreds of them, all displayed on her walls. And antique shoes everywhere. Rooms of hats and shoes, a massive collection. Want me to take you over? It's worth seeing.'

'Yes, I'd like to meet her.' Gretchen remembered a woman outside of Charlie's shop the day of the parade, the day Charlie died. The woman had worn a big straw hat and had been the first one to speak to Bernard about unlocking the door. He had called her Evie.

Gretchen retrieved the street signs from her purse, which was on the floor with Nimrod cuddled inside. 'Joseph knew the location of the Second Street sign,' she said, relating the details.

'Charlie was really acting out her frustration with her sister's death,' Caroline said. 'Lizzie Borden was acquitted of the most brutal double murder of all time. The crime was never solved. Did you know that?'

'No. I thought she killed them.'

'We'll never know.'

'That's exactly what Joseph said when I wondered why Charlie would put together such an awful scene.'

'Let's find the dolls that go with the room boxes today and finish up. I'm taking a camera along for the after pictures. Your camera phone takes okay pictures, but the colors aren't as vivid as they could be.'

Right, Gretchen thought. Make sure you can see all the blood splatters.

She watched her mother head for the kitchen, trailed by the pint-sized puppy and Wobbles, who was trying to remain aloof but failing. Gretchen was sure her mother fed table scraps to the pets when she wasn't looking. Why else the intense devotion?

Gretchen took a quick shower and was drying her hair when her cell phone rang. The caller introduced himself as the manager from Gretchen's bank. 'A courtesy call really,'

he said. 'We aren't required to do this, but your mother is a good customer, and we realize you are new to our banking services.'

'Is something wrong?'

'You're account is overdrawn.'

'Impossible!'

'By quite a lot.'

'That can't be right.'

'I'm afraid it's correct.'