The Dollhouse

CHAPTER 8

Susan could have stayed there all day, playint with the dollhouse. But a look at her watch sent her scurrying. She was supposed to meet her mother in just a few minutes. She couldn't afford to be late again.
Before she left the toy shop, she cast a quick glance at the row of dolls by the door. Her eyes fell on the one who she thought had winked at her when she had first walked in.
The doll, with its long chestnut curls and red satin dress, seemed to be staring at her again.
Well, of course she is, Susan told herself sensibly. That's how her glass eyes set in her head.
And yet the doll's look seemed to hold a secret. It was almost as if she knew something Susan didn't. Something that gave her great pleasure.
Something evil.
Susan swallowed as she opened the door to leave. The little bell tinkled, and she felt a cold shudder run down her spine---the way it had yesterday, when she'd first entered The Once and Forever Toy Shop.
She frowned. Something evil?. What was the matter with her, anyway? How could she think such crazy, far-out thoughts about a harmless little china doll?
Standing in the doorway, Susan took a last look back at the store. Mr.Tidwell was nowhere in sight, as usual. She looked over at the counter, where the little tin soldiers had been yesterday. They weren't there now. She wondered what had happened to them, especially the one with the bandaged leg. Had they gone back to war?
She shook her head in disgust. Gone to war? What was her problem?
She couldn't believe herself. She was usually so calm and levelheaded.
But the soldier's leg. . .that bloody bandage.
Susan closed the door to the shop quietly behind her and the bell jangled one last time.
Once she was out in the mall, among all the other shoppers, she could think more clearly. She felt as if she was awakening from a dream. And as she raced through the halls, all she could think about was how she wanted that dollhouse more than anything in the world.
But how could she get it? She had only a few dollars in her piggy bank. She never seemed to be able to save anything from her allowance. Would her parents buy it for her, maybe? Her birthday was only a coupld of months away. . .
No. It was probably much too expensive. And they'd spend most of their savings on the down payment on the house and on the move. Her parents would have to be scaled down this year.
Susan was panting by the time she reached her mother in front of the department store.
"Did you habe a good time, Sweetie?" Mrs . Martin asked. She shifted her shopping bag to the other arm and pulled her big leather pouch back up on her shoulder.
"Yeah. Listen, Mom----you know that dollhouse I told you about? Can you come look at it now?"
Mrs. Martin sighed. "Could we do it another time, Susan? I'm really tired and I'd love to get home."
"Okay," Susan said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
She'd been hoping that if her mother saw the dollhouse, she might fall in love with it, too. And then maybe she might come up with the idea of buying it on her own, without thinking having to be asked.
A wild shot, but there was no harm in trying.
"So where are the curtains?" Susan asked, pushing through the big glass exit door and holding it open for her mother.
Mrs. Martin didn't answer. She was busy scanning the parking lot. Susan rolled her eyes. Her mother was always forgetting where she parked.
"What? Oh, I only picked out the fabric and style, and gave them the measurements," she explained. "It'll be a few days before they're ready. But in the meantime, I got these nice thick towels on the sale."
They had to wander up and down a few parking aisles before they located the car.
"Next car I get is going to be a flaming-orange convertible," Mrs. Martin said. "Evryone in the world must own a dark-gray hatchback like ours."
"Hey, Mom," Susan said as they pulled out of the parking lot. "It's going to be real easy to get to the mall from our house. I can take my bike and---"
Mrs.Martin flashed Susan a stern, sideways look. "Not by yourself, young lady. With me, fine. Or maybe with a couple of kids your age---careful, responsible kids, that is."
Susan stared out the window. Every now and then she really misded Donna. Now was one of those times. Here was this really great mall and she didn't have anyone to share it with!
"Mom," she said, going back to the subject that was most o her mind. "You really should see the dollhouse sometime. It isn't just a toy. It's a work of art."