It’s nearly midnight and I fidget in the uncomfortable bed. I am not a big person. I am actually pretty short, and yet this bed still feels dangerously small. I squirm and flail my limbs as they drift off the edges of the mattress. I can barely roll from one side to the other without risking tumbling to the floor. The bed is composed of two thick mattresses stacked atop a box frame and the abnormal height adds to the sense that I am perched precariously on it, opposed to lying in it.
I have been tossing and turning for hours in what I have come to think of as my own reenactment of the princess and the pea. The blinds don’t close all the way and the lights from the street mean the room is bathed in a soft light, usually this wouldn’t bother me so much, but the dresser across from me is topped with many creepy dolls. And I can see them all too clearly. There are at least fifty of them. There are your classic porcelain dolls in quaint little outfits with perfect ringlets; there are knitted dolls, plastic baby dolls, and then other dolls that defy description. The only way I can think to describe them is that if they are meant to resemble anything human, they don't. They all look just a bit wrong. Whether it’s their proportions or their weird grimaces, something just isn’t right. What all the dolls share though is their beady little doll eyes. Fifty or so pairs of dead eyes watch my every move. It is unnerving to say the least. It is the thing of nightmares and budget horror movies.
I can’t decide which way to face. I can feel there eyes boring into my back when I face away, and if I face them then, well, I’m facing them and my eyes drag open to take in the whole horrific array of them. I am contemplating my bloody death at the hands of these dolls when I hear banging. It is muffled and sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom. Or at least I think it’s coming from the bathroom. My grandparent’s house, although unchanged since my childhood, is unfamiliar to me. I shoot up right and swing my legs off the bed. The floor creaks beneath my feet. I hesitate, trying to listen harder into the gloom of the house. My grandfather has fallen a handful of times already this week. It often happens in the bathroom, and this is what I fear has happened now.
Bright light slips under the door and I hear movement. I open the door expecting to find my elderly grandfather sprawled on the floor, either on the landing, or in the bathroom, both of which I can see clearly. So, imagine my surprise when instead I am greeted by the sight of my uncle, stark bollock naked, backlit by the bathroom light. He is unseasonably tan, and hairless. I’ve never seen a naked sixty something year old man before, it is shocking to say the least. He is still visibly inebriated. He mumbles an apology and I quickly shut the door. I am startled and my heart is pounding in my chest. That is not at all what I expected to see. I lean against the door take a few steadying breathes.
I try to suppress the images that flash across my mind, a surprise penis is never nice but it’s even worse when it’s related to you. I am horrified, embarrassed, furious, and somewhat afraid. Is this the moment when I encounter the dreaded “funny Uncle”? I mean it seems unlikely that my gay uncle would attempt to interfere with me, but there is just something inherently threatening about a surprise encounter with a penis. I push my suitcase against the door, just in case. And retreat back to the bed under the watchful eyes of the dolls. I am suddenly thankful for their vigilance.
When I make my way down stairs the next morning my uncle is already at the kitchen table, thankfully fully clothed. I’m not really sure what the etiquette is for this moment. I nod at him, blushing, and make for the kettle. He offers a cheery hello. At a loss for anything else to say, I call from the kitchen,
“Want a cuppa?”
I liked it the first time I read it.
I liked it when you read it out at writers club. And I liked it this third time when I read it on substack.
The way you circle back to the dolls and they gazes have shifted from unnerving to reassuring because of the surprise penis is a stroke of genius.