“He went back into our home to retrieve a porcelain doll.” She quietly wept. The detectives insisted Mrs. Harris answer a few questions about why her husband burned to death in a house fire.
“He risked his life for a doll?” They asked.
“He’s a respected collector.” The classy older woman spoke, her nose pressed into a silky handkerchief.
“Why was this one special and where is it now?” They continued.
She paused before answering. “The doll belonged to his late mother, and I don’t know where it is.”
Rumor was that Mrs. Harris was schizophrenic. She swore on occasion her husband conversed with his favorite doll whom he referred to as mother.
“Thanks for your time.” Detective Midley instructed his partner, Theo, to give her a lift home. Upon arrival, Theo opened the door, Mrs. Harris stepped out, stood amidst the rubble, and watched him leave from the corner of her eye.
Suspicious, Theo parked the police cruiser down the road and snuck back, hiding behind the shell of a scorched tree. Mrs. Harris kneeled, digging through the scarred land. Searching for the doll that held the spirit of her mother-in-law, fearful it had escaped the grave she buried it in.
A porcelain doll wearing a purple dress holding the hand of another in a black tuxedo skipped up behind her. “Looking for us?” Giggling, they opened their mouths releasing a fury of black vapors, spiraling until they found their way into Theo’s nostrils.
Theo’s laugh came alive, possessed by mother and son. “You thought you’d kill us!” Their voices echoed.
Mr. Harris’ smile appeared on Theo’s face. He wrapped his hands around Mrs. Harris’ neck. Theo would be charged with murder.
Mrs. Harris wasn’t crazy, her husband held a profound passion for the dead, especially his mother.
Leesa Writes 