Lj Idol 01 - Winding up
The evening was fast approaching, and the chill in the air made everything that much more tense. I had grown up, like most of the kids in our small town, hearing all about Jenkins’ Doll. Our mothers found it romantic, a testament to true love (if it were, in fact, real), dads joked about how bad it made them look, and us? Well, we just wanted to see it. I stood at the purple door, and held my breath.
The story was a simple one. Some say it was 1932, some 1942, no one was really sure just how old Robert Jenkins was, only that he was weird. He wasn’t always that way though. Apparently a handsome man once, it’s said he had many lovers, or, as my Nonnie politely put it, “He was on a lot of dance cards”. One day, while walking to work, the wind kicked up something awful. Head down, clenching his trench closed where a button had popped off the morning before, he walked as quickly as he was able without breaking into a run. Out of nowhere, a purple silk scarf whipped around his face, and caused him to walk straight into a lamp post.
Dazed, and a bit angry, he tore the scarf off, and looked around for it’s owner. And that’s when he saw the most beautiful woman he could imagine, doubled over in a fit of giggles she couldn’t control. Hair black as soot, the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and the most adorable up-turned nose. She was a sight, that’s for sure. As she raced over to see if Robert was okay, the scarf seemed to leap from his hands, and back onto her neck.
"The magic of true love", he would later tell her.
They fell in love, of course, and married just 1 month after this first meeting. He loved that woman with an intensity usually reserved for epic poems, and when they found out she was sick only 2 years later, it is said to have destroyed him. The handsome, charming man he once was became bitter, aged beyond his years. After her passing, he was rarely seen outside of his home, though there was a curious period of time where he could be found at the local general store every day, gathering what seemed to be random supplies.
He also ordered these supplies through the mail; exotic packages arriving from places like Haiti and Paris becoming a fairly regular occurrence. Eventually the curiosity became too much for the post man, and when asked what was in them, Jenkins replied, “All the makings of a beautiful doll”. The post man replied, “A doll? You don’t exactly strike me as the doll-making kind…”. Legend has it that Jenkins’ mouth turned into a funny little smile, something flashed in his eyes, and he chuckled just a bit. “Not just any doll, my friend. A doll whose beauty is matched only by that of my sweet Rebecca. Alike in all ways, you’d almost not be able to tell the difference, were she still with us”. Jenkins shut the door, and the post man could hear him muttering to himself, while he just thought, “Crazy kook”.
When the final package arrived, Jenkins was not home. Living in a town as tiny as ours, the post man was used to leaving packages on kitchen tables, and thinking nothing of it, opened the unlocked door and walked in. He was stopped by the sight of a large glass case in the far corner of the living room, large enough to hold a full grown woman. Inside, the most realistic looking doll he had ever seen. Long black waves of hair, piercing eyes that seemed to be calling to him. He began to walk towards it when he heard, “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!”. With one last glance back, he ran from the house, stumbling over his own feet on the way out. After telling his wife of what he saw, the whole town quickly knew of Jenkins and the monument to his lost love.
Since that day no one had been allowed inside the house, though many had tried to catch a peek at the crazy old man and his doll. So, here I am, standing on his door step, hoping for the same. No one had heard or seen Old Jenkins for a few weeks, though this wasn’t a cause for alarm, as we rarely saw him anyhow. My friends had come up with the plan- I would knock on the door, and when the old man came to it, I would try to distract him while they snuck inside to take a peek. How they thought they would get in unnoticed, I’m not sure. I don’t think we really thought that far ahead. But damn it, we were going to see this doll! SOMEONE had to.
I let my breath out, and timidly knocked. No answer. I knocked again, and when there was still no answer or sound from inside, I decided to try the handle. It was unlocked, and the door swung open. Looking around for my friends, I stepped inside, and waited for them to follow. The musty smell seeped out into the night, and Jason and Eric quickly joined me in the foyer. And that’s when we saw it, the glass case which seemed to glow in the darkness of the house. Two beautiful blue eyes staring at us with the strangest of expressions. Slowly as we made our way towards it, more and more of her features become clear. The Dark hair that seemed the slightest bit stringy and dull. The upturned nose that looked as if the fabric was peeling just the slightest bit. And yet there was the wedding dress, somehow still pristine and white.
“Jesus, he really loved that broad, huh?”
“Shhh!”
As we got closer, I noticed something sticking out from the dolls back, almost like the crank on a wind-up toy. Jason’s hand dug into my shoulder, and glancing over to him, I saw the color in his face had drained. “Look at it’s skin…”
And so I moved as close to the glass as I could get, and it all became more clear.
Her skin, the oddest shade of gray and blue and green, all in one. The “fabric” fraying by her nose… the smell in the house… It couldn’t be.
Eric pressed a button I hadn’t noticed on the wall, lifting the case up in to the air, and off of the doll. The smell was overwhelming, a smell of something not quite rotted through, but not alive either. We couldn’t even scream, so mesmerized by her. We could see where she had come undone and Jenkins had sewn parts back on. I don’t know how he could have embalmed her so well that all these years later she was still mostly in tact, but it was impressive.
“I wonder what this crank does…” Eric said as he got behind her, and began to wind it to the left. One full turn - her arm began to move. Another turn, her leg bent. With all the force he had in him, determined to prove to himself it couldn’t be, Eric wound her up all the way. And that’s when more than just her body moved, and we ran the hell out of there, screaming all the way.
I still hear her sometimes, her quiet, broken voice, “Please, help me”, eyes begging for release.
I hope this wasn't too long.