Ghost of the Doll

Author: Ren Rong Shen
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-09-01
Features: Excerpt from the book: A terrible incident occurred at the luxurious Cranston Duke's Mansion, as if the sky had collapsed, causing chaos in the entire neighboring estate. The butler was in his room trying to rest comfortably when he quickly stepped out. Two male servants rushed towards him from two directions simultaneously. Several female servants stood motionless on the grand staircase. The housekeeper, Mrs. Pringle, stood tall at the top of the stairs. As for the head nurse, the little nurse, and the maid in the children's room, their anxiety was beyond description. The head nurse placed one hand on the polished marble railing, gazing blankly ahead; the little nurse leaned against the polished marble wall, pale and unable to move; the children's room maid sat on the marble step next to the velvet carpet on the stairs, crying openly. Miss Gwendolen Lancaster Douglas-Skrap, the ninth daughter of the youngest son of the Duke of Cranston, aged six years and three months, sat alone on the third step from the bottom of the grand staircase at Cranston Mansion. "Oh!" the butler exclaimed first, then disappeared. "Ah!" the two male servants shouted in turn, also disappearing. "Just for a doll." Mrs. Pringle said clearly, with an indifferent tone. The little nurse heard her say this. Then the head nurse, the little nurse, and the children's room maid gathered around Miss Gwendolen, gently patting her and taking unsanitary things from their pockets to give to her, coaxing her, and then hurriedly dragging her out of Cranston Duke's Mansion to prevent the masters upstairs from discovering that they had allowed the delicate Miss Gwendolen Lancaster-Douglas-Skrap to be her doll down the grand staircase. Because the doll was broken badly, the children's room maid wrapped it in Miss Gwendolen's small cloak, putting all the broken pieces inside. Cranston Duke's Mansion was not far from Hyde Park. There, they found a quiet spot and carefully examined Miss Gwendolen. Fortunately, there were no bruises. Because the carpet on the stairs was very thick, soft, and loose, and there was a thick cloth underneath to make it even softer. Miss Gwendolen Lancaster Douglas-Skrap had always screamed but never cried. She had just been screaming, and the nurse had no choice but to let her come downstairs. She insisted on walking alone, holding Nina (the doll) in one arm and gripping the marble railing with the other, walking along the polished marble steps on the edge of the carpet. As a result, she slipped and fell, causing Nina to suffer greatly. When the head nurse and the others were sure that Miss Gwendolen was safe, they finally opened the cloak covering the doll to see how it was. The doll was large and beautiful, with real blonde hair and eyelids that could open and close, and dark eyes. Not only that, but as long as you raised and lowered its right arm, it would say "Dad," and as long as you raised and lowered its left arm, it would say "Mom," clearly. "I heard it say 'Dad' only once when it fell," the little nurse, who heard everything, said. "But it should have said 'Dad.'" "That's because it only raised its arm when it landed on the step," the head nurse said. "Look, if I put this arm back down, it will say the rest of 'Dad.'" "Dad." When the right arm of Nina was put down, its broken face really made that sound. The face was cracked exactly from the center of the forehead through the nose to the wide, light green collar of the long coat at the neck, and two triangular pieces of lucite had fallen off. "It's simply incredible that it could still make a sound after being broken like this," the little nurse said. "You need to take it to Mr. Parker," the head nurse instructed her. "It's not far, you can go right now." Miss Gwendolen was busy digging a hole in the mud with a small shovel, ignoring what the nurses were saying. "What are you doing?" the children's room maid asked her. "Nina is dead, I'm burying her," Miss Gwendolen replied. "Oh, Nina will come back to life." the children's room maid said. The little nurse wrapped Nina up again and was about to leave. Fortunately, a kind, tall soldier wearing a small hat was there. Since he was idle anyway, he volunteered to take the little nurse safely to Mr. Parker and then take her home. Mr. Parker and his young daughter lived in a small house in a lane that led to a quiet street not far from Belgravia Square. Mr. Parker was a skilled doll doctor who was famous in the aristocratic circles. He repaired dolls of all sizes and ages, male and female dolls, infants in robes and adults in fashionable clothes, talking and non-talking dolls, and dolls that closed their eyes when they lay down and those that required pulling a invisible wire to close their eyes. His daughter Elsie was only twelve years old but was already good at sewing and mending doll clothes, and making doll hair. Although the dolls sat still while their hair was being made, and no matter how you manipulated them, this job was much harder than you might think.