"The Little Chill" Part 1 Part 2 By Omnibus
All rights reserved.
Contains adult content for 18 years and older.
"Experience . . . that's what separates the girls from the girl scouts." (George Hamilton - "Where the Boys Are" (1960))
"Nice turn signal, Moron!" Judy Hampton screamed at the car in front of her, as it slowly turned on to a side street.
Judy had just gotten off second shift at the local hospital and was now rushing to Claudia Gardner's house for her 40th birthday party. The both of them had been best friends for over 30 years now, and the fact that she was almost three hours late greatly affected her current driving attitude.
"Fuck!" Judy yelled, slamming on the brakes suddenly as the light above her turned red. The birthday present that she had placed on the passenger seat flew forward into the dashboard, crushing one of the box's corners.
"Shit! I'm never gonna get there!" She exclaimed to herself, tapping her fingers consecutively across the steering wheel. Looking down at the the digital clock in the console, the 9:32 that blared back only seemed to mock her frustration. Having turned 40 herself recently, Claudia had thrown her a huge surprise party which had been catered and everything. Five months later, Judy finds herself returning the favor by showing up late for her friend's party, and still in her nurse's uniform no less. But what made matters even worse, was the fact that Claudia's birthday celebration also represented a special kind of reunion. Tonight would mark the first time "The Group" had been together in over 22 years, ever since they graduated from Whitmer high school together.
The light decided to flash green at that moment and Judy floored the accelerator like Shirley Muldowney with cement shoes.
"Well, I should be there before ten." Judy proceeded to pull on to the highway. "Hopefully, they won't open the presents or cut the cake until I get there."
"Hurry up and open the presents so we can cut the cake!" Wendy Moore shouted, handing a large box to Claudia.
Claudia proceeded to carefully open the gift, trying not to tear the wrapping paper too much as she did so.
"Jesus Christ, Claudia! Today, while we're young!" Kim Myers exclaimed across the glass coffee table. "I mean, we always knew you were a neat freak, but you make Martha Stewart look like Oscar Madison."
Claudia continued opening the box, moving a little more quickly now, as the other three women hulddled around her. After 15 minutes, she finally opened all the presents and thanked the other girls with hugs and kisses.
"Wait a minute Claudia, you forgot one!" Sharon Welker replied, picking up a plain looking box at the end of the couch.
"Oh, it's from my husband!" Claudia read the little card that was attached out loud. "Honey, a little bit of magic to make sure all your wishes come true. Love, Dan."
"Awwwww! That's sweet!" Kim said, gathering up the discarded wrapping paper. "Now hurry up and open it!"
The gift was wrapped in brown rice paper with a piece of white string strategically tied around it. Claudia gently untied the bow, causing the paper to easily fall away. There for everyone to see, was a stained wooden box with black words written across it in Japanese.
"Well, Dan's not much for showmanship, but at least he knows how to wrap a present." Kim jokingly whispered to Sharon.
Claudia proceeded to unhook the latches on the sides of the box. The box creaked open and a thick cloud of dust billowed out. Claudia coughed and waved her hands around in response. After the dust had somewhat dissipated, she continued to open the box up completely. The other women suddenly moved forward to see what mysterious items the box contained.
Claudia reached into the wooden container and pulled out . . . a doll.
"What the hell is that?" It seemed Kim always had a way with words. "It looks like an albino Kewpie doll."
The small figure was dressed in a flowing red and gold robe that covered most of its body. The doll's round face was completely white except for a black tattoo written on one cheek in Japanese, while the black hair on it's head was tied back in a severe bun. Claudia flipped the androgenous-looking doll over and over again in her hands, looking for some sort of tag or instructions.
"Hmpf! I really don't know what it is exactly!" Claudia continued turning the strange figure over and over. "I just wish there was a tag or something to tell me exactly what the hell this thing is."
Claudia was just about to put the doll back in the box when her finger brushed against something with a hard edge. Flipping the doll over one last time in curiosity, she lifted up the back of it's robe. There, sewn into the hem, was a small tag with some English words written on it.
Claudia read them out loud to everyone. "It says here that this is a Konoko Doll which will grant it's holder anything it wants."
"Yeah, that's great." Kim replied sarcastically. "At least it'll make a nice knick-knack around the house, not that you need any more. Are you sure your husband is an airline pilot and not a Pier-One Import broker?"
Claudia simply smiled at Kim's comment and glanced up at her friends. Even though she was beyond delighted that her childhood friends had all finally come together after so many years, Claudia couldn't help but feel a certain distancing between her and her companions. The years apart had driven certain wedges in their relationships and the frequent pauses of silence during their conversations only emphasized this.
"God, I wish things today were as simple as they were 30 years ago." Claudia whispered to herself, not noticing the slight twitch the doll made while still in her hands. "Oh well, if wishes were fishes. . . "
"Hmmmmm! Did you just say something, Claudia?" Wendy asked as she approached her friend.
"What? Oh, it was nothing. Just some wishful thinking."
Wendy's eyes sudden fell upon the doll in Claudia's hands. "Hey, can I see that doll for a second?"
"Yeah, sure, here you go." Claudia handed the doll over to Wendy, though she felt somewhat reluctant as she did so.
Wendy stared at the small porcelain figure in her hands for a minute or two, studying it's delicate features. She jumped in shock at the sudden touch of a hand on her shoulder.
"Jesus, Sharon! You scared the crap out of me!"
"Sorry! I didn't realize that you were off in la-la land." Sharon looked down at the item in Wendy's hands. "Still playing with dollies after all these years?"
"Least my dollies don't vibrate when I play with them." Wendy replied, on the inside, a bit indignate at the tone of Sharon's jest. "No, I was just looking at Claudia's birthday present." Was the cold reponse that Wendy eventually ended up saying.
Wendy and Sharon used to be the best of friends, inside and outside "The Group". The two of them were inseparatable, doing almost everything together, from sleep-overs to double dating. Unfortunately, during their senior year in high school, Sharon had malicously slept with Wendy's boyfriend of three years, Brad, behind her back. At that age, romantic partners are (or at least seem) more important than chilhood friends, thus Sharon and Wendy parted ways most bitterly. That, and college, pretty much resulted in a complete deterioration of "The Group".
"As I recall, you used to have quite a collection of dolls and stuffed animals in the old days." Sharon continued on with the topic.
"Well, things change!" Wendy barked back, unintenionally. "Sometimes I wish my life was as simple as it was in the old days, but it's not! Why complicate the present with emotional baggage from the past?"
Wendy was in such an agitated state, she didn't feel the figurine begin to spasm in her hands. Without warning, she startled Sharon by carelessly tossing the doll at her, who barely caught it with her quick reflexes.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom and find some aspirin. It seems a sharp pain in my neck has suddenly resurfaced." With that said, Wendy quickly turned around and departed from the room.
"Well, that was pleasant." Sharon brought the doll up close to her face. "You don't hate me too, do you?" The doll just stared back at her with it's expressionless features. "You'd be one of the few who didn't." Sharon breathed a deep sigh as a sense of melonchaly swept over her. " Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and change some of the mistakes I've made. Maybe then my life wouldn't be as messed up as it is right now."
"What the fuck!" Sharon screamed, reacting from the sudden unexpected movements of the fugurine in her possession. "Aiiiiieeeeee! It's fucking alive!" She threw the doll across the room, almost hitting Kim, who was sitting on the couch drinking her fourth glass of champagne. Kim dodged out of the way just in time, but not before spilling a whole glass of Asti Spumonti on herself, the couch and the doll.
"Jesus, Sharon! Still having one of your paranoid, drug-induced hallucinations brought upon by your decade of cocaine abuse in the 80's? Or is this just your way of breaking up the monotony of the party? Either way, I'm not impressed." Kim yelled as she stood up, soaking wet with champange.
"Oh my god! The couch!" Claudia ran past Kim into the kitchen to get something to clean of the mess in the living room.
Sharon just stood there in shock, pointing at the object she just threw. "The doll! The doll moved in my hands by itself! I swear to god you guys, I'm not lying! It's alive!"
Kim looked down at the lifeless figure on the couch and picked it up. She looked at it for a second, shook it, then held it upside down by one leg. "Been watching a marathon of 'Child's Play' films lately, Sharon? Or has 'Trilogy of Terror' been on again, the one with the little voodoo doll Prey chasing Karen Black around the house?"
It soon became apparent that Sharon wasn't going to convince anyone of her bizarre occurrence with the doll, so she decided to just drop it. After all, maybe it was all in her head. "Fine, think what you want, but I could have sworn the doll moved." Sharon brushed her long dull blonde hair out of her face. Frustrated, she turned toward the sliding glass door. "I need some air!"
Claudia walked back into the room with a bowl of soapy water and some towels just as Sharon slammed the door behind her. As she began dabbing the stained couch with a wet towel, she looked up at Kim. "Where'd Sharon go to?"
"Outside to pout or something. She always was the most maladjusted of 'The Group'." Kim continued wringing the liquid out her sweatshirt. "Oh great! Now I'm starting to get all sticky and stuff. Claudia? I don't suppose you have anything I could borrow while I wash my wet clothes?"
"Sure. Help yourself. Bedroom is upstairs, third room to your right." Claudia responded without looking up.
"Thanks, you're a doll." Kim paused for a second, suddenly realizing what was still in her hand. "Speaking of dolls, it seems as if someone else needs a good cleaning too." With that, Kim grabbed her purse and trotted upstairs, with the the figurine in tow.
Upstairs, curiosity got the better of Kim and she began snooping around the other rooms along the hallway. She stuck her head in one of the doorways and flicked on the light switch. "Hey! This must be one of her daughter's rooms."
The entire room was painted pink with white carpeting. The walls were adorned with posters of Hanson, Backstreet Boys and N' sync. Dirty and discarded clothes covered the floor and unmade bed. "This has to be Cindy's room, her twelve year old."
Kim scuffled around the room quickly, kicking piles of clothes over as she did so. "Well, what is this?" Kim picked a wrinkled cheerleader uniform off the floor. The top was blue with gold stripes, while the short skirt was blue and white. Grass stains were visible throughout the fabric.
"This brings back memories." Kim looked at the uniform for a little while longer, reminiscing about her own cheerleading days. "I wish I could fit into a uniform like this again. Oh well!" Throwing the outfit onto the bed, Kim unknowingly threw the doll with it, thus not noticing the mysterious movements it had begun to make.
"Back at it. I better find Claudia's bedroom before I'm permanently stuck to these clothes." Flicking off the light switch, she proceeded down the hall to her appropriate destination.
Downstairs, Claudia continued scrubbing away at the champagne staturated cushions of her new white couch. "This is not how I pictured my birthday / reunion to turn out. Me, on my hands and knees, cleaning my couch by myself in the living room. Whoopee!" Claudia continued scrubbing away, unaware of the magical changes her body was beginning to go through. Her biological clock had started ticking backward at about a year or two a minute. In five minutes, her body had recelebrated 10 birthdays, and aside from a tuck here and a pinch there, not much appeared visiblely different. Being a Libra, Claudia had a tendecy to be a neat freak. This compulsive behavior covered not only her house and belongings, but her own body as well. Morning workouts, laps in the pool and a vegetarian diet were daily routines to Claudia. So it was no wonder any signs of age regression were barely detectable during the first 10 minutes of Claudia's transformation. Unfortunately, the next five minutes were something else entirely.
"There, one down, one to go." Claudia propped the cushion up to dry as she removed the long brown strands of hair from her line of sight. Claudia paused for a second, puzzled by a faint remembrance of her hair being shorter and more curly. After a few seconds, Claudia simply shrugged her shoulder at her obvious mistake (her hair had been long and straight since she was ten) and continued on with what she was doing.
Grabbing the other couch cushion, she began scrubbing away at it wildly, not at all like the professional job she had performed on the first one. Water splashed around furiously as she figured the harder one rubs the quicker the stain gets clean.
Claudia was wearing a desert coral colored long-sleeved silk sweater and a pair of navy blue pants. As Claudia crossed from adulthood to adolescence, her clothes were gradually becoming looser and less form fitting. Pushing the sponge across the fabric in her fists, she stopped for a second, noticing suddenly that half her hands were covered up her sleeves. Claudia pushed her hands out of the sleeves, like a pair of blooming peach flowers, and felt the dampness of the cuffs across her wrists.
"Hmpf! Stupid Sweater." The 16 year old commented, tugging on her bra strap in the back which didn't feel quite right all of a sudden. In fact, nothing felt right all of a sudden. Phyically and mentally Claudia saw no problem, but everything outside herself, from her clothes to her surroundings, were beginning to feel akward, almost alien. Only the task of cleaning up the couch still seemed to be her primary goal, though the reason she was doing it was starting to becoming unclear.
"Phooey on this!" Claudia exclaimed, throwing her wet towel across the room. "Why am I cleaning this mess up in the first place? I didn't make it; Kim did! She should clean it up." Taking the cushion by the sides, she flipped it over and placed it back in the couch with the dirty side facing down.
"Perfect!" The 14 year old proudly commented on her ingenuity. Even though she managed not to notice the zipper sticking out in the front of the cushion or that the pattern direction didn't match the rest of the cushions. Something the old Claudia would have noticed in a heartbeat.
Considering her job done, Claudia stood up, causing everything she wore to fall down. The dark blue pants and white lace panties she had on fell to around her ankles, since she no longer had the womanly attributes which had held them up in the first place. The bottom of her sweater followed suit, covering her downy area, as the cuffs enveloped most of her hands. Her breasts were barely larger than an A-cup now, but the memory of the C-cup she once sported was still visible in the stretched material of her sweater (that and the half-empty bra that hung precociously off her small shoulders). Freckles soon began to appear on the bridge of her nose and spread to her check like a contagious disease.
Confusion and panic collided together inside Claudia consciouness, and she quickly left the living room and her teenage years behind at the same time. Totally oblivious to where she was going or what was happening to her, Claudia wandered into the kitchen. The sweater continued to grow on her as her height diminshed and her breasts flatten out, leaving little proof of the adult she once was. Claudia's physical and mental regression stabilized at around 10 years old, but the comprehension of her situation continued to evade her.
"HELLO!?!?!" Little Claudia yelled out in a high-pitched voice, trying to find some clue as to where she was. "HELLO!!!! Is anybody home?" Panic began to chip away at Claudia's sense of security, what little there was of it. She did know some things as undeniable facts. She knew her name was Claudia Jones (aka DJ to her friends). She knew she was 10 years old and the year was 1968. She also knew that she would like nothing better than to be at home, all safe and snuggly, with her mother and father.
Instantly, Claudia realized her salvation was a phone call away, literally. All she had to do was phone her parents and they would pick her up. Only two problems stopped her from carrying out this plan. Where was she and where was the phone.
End of Chapter One
The Little Chill Part 2
All rights reserved.
Contains adult content for 18 years and older.
“We all dream of being a child again, even the worst of us. Perhaps the worst most of all.” (Mexican elder (bit player) to Pike Bishop (William Holden) - “The Wild Bunch” (1969))
“Nah, too fancy.” Kim said to her reflection in the mirror, as she held a V-necked blue dress up to her front and twisted back and forth.
Rumaging through Claudia’s closet for the last couple of minutes, Kim still hadn’t found anything wearable. All the dresses were hung up nice and neat, wrinkle-free, and color cordinated together. All the shoes were polished and properly stacked on oak shelves under them. Every outfit within the double glass door closet looked to Kim to cost more than her monthly house payment. “Jesus! Doesn’t she have anything to just loaf around the house in? I’m just sitting in her living room, not going to the Oscars.”
Suddenly, a red box on the top shelf caught her attention. She quickly grabbed it and opened it up. Inside, to Kim’s surprise and delight, were several neatly folded sweatshirts and sweatpants of various colors.
“FINALLY!” Kim remarked, pulling out a white sweatshirt and a pair of dark green sweatpants. Throwing the box and it’s remains on to the bed, she quickly flicked off the light and headed toward the bathroom.
Unfortunately, the upstairs bathroom seemed to have an occupant as Kim began knocking on the closed door.
“Hello? Anybody in here?” Kim questioned as she turned the bathroom doorknob. The door slowly opened inward, giving Kim an open view of Wendy sitting on the toliet, silently sobbing to herself.
Sensing the sudden presence of another person in the room, Wendy quickly tried to compose herself as best she could. She quickly tried to wipe the tears away, but the smearing of her blue masquara across her puffy red eyes left a maroon streak of proof to her real disposition.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Wendy stated, clearing her throat.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I mean, I didn’t mean to bust in on you like this.” Kim replied akwardly. “I just thought the bathroom was empty. I was just going to take a quick shower to get this sticky champagne off of me. But if you still using it . . .”
“No! It’s perfectly alright. I was just . . . . . trying to get something out of my eye.” Wendy rubbed her left eye, further smearing the purple blur around it.
“Sure, whatever you say.” Kim answered, placing her sweatclothes on the bathroom counter. During which, Wendy stood up and walked over to Kim, who was now studying the stains in her outfit. Embarassment swept through Wendy like a bush fire when she suddenly caught her reflection in the full length bathroom mirror.
“Oh my god! I look like a raccoon with a bad perm!” Wendy exclaimed, leaning her face forward into the mirror. Turning on the faucet, she began dampening a hand towel to remove the mess around her eyes.
“Either you’re taking make-up tips from Salvador Dali, or you’re upset about something.” Kim abruptly commented, trying to be cordual to Wendy in the nicest manner she knew how, despite it’s comical undertones. “Are you OK? You seem kind of, I don’t know, depressed tonight.”
“No!” Wendy quickly answered without turning her head, as she finished cleaning up her face. She squinted slightly at her reflection in bewilderment. The reason she had worn so much makeup, especially around the eyes, was to cover up the severe crow’s feet and bags that had begun to appear. Now it seemed, contrary to what she remembered, the age lines around her eyes seemed less pronounce, almost nonexistence.
“I mean no, why would I be? This is a party after all. Nothing but good times with old friends reminencing about the days gone by. I’m as right as rain.” Wendy turned to face Kim on the last sentence and plastered a fake smile across her pale face.
“Oh really, well then it must have been the waterworks display you were giving while sitting on the john when I first came in that threw me off. Sorry.” Kim bluntly replied, waiting for a reactionary response from Wendy, which surprisingly never came. Kim just sighed silently and shook her head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a shower to remove this gunk that psycho Sharon spilled all over me.”
As she watched Kim walk behind her in the reflection of the mirror to turn the shower on, Wendy began to open her mouth as if to say something, but gradually closed it again. She wanted so very badly to tell Kim about all the fucked up things that had happened to her in the past 22 years since they had last spoken to each other. The date rape at college, her alcoholism, the three miscarriages she had (the last one happening only six months ago), the seperation of her and her adulterous husband Ted after 8 years of marriage, and the most recent affront to her person; being fired from her job due to downsizing. As kids, Kim and her used to tell each other everything, of course back then, Wendy’s biggest problem was Algebra class, not infertility. Now, after both their inocecence had long been corupted by the years, did they find themselves back together again, with nothing but small talk between the two of them. She also didn’t feel like turning their encounter in the bathroom into a Fruedian therapy session. Wendy would had continued delving on the sadness of the situation had the sound of the shower starting not startled her back to reality.
Wendy was even more startled by the sight of Kim removing her sage sweater behind her.
Wendy swiftly turned around, almost coming face to face with Kim (or face to chest, given Kim was a good foot taller than Wendy). “What the hell are you doing?”
“Well let’s see. I’m in a bathroom, the shower’s running and I’m removing my clothes. I’m either : A) doing laundry the hard way; B) an exhibitionist who gets off wasting other people’s water; or C) going to take a shower.” Kim put the tip of a finger in her mouth and rolled her eyes upward to further emphasize her cockiness. “Ding! Ding! Ding! Time’s up! The correct answer is C. Thanks for playing and please enjoy our home game.” With that said, Kim proceeded to unbutton the front of her print skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
“Jesus Kim, you can be such a facetious bitch sometimes.” Wendy replied half-jokingly, though a serious undertone could easily be detected. “All I meant was, that you could have at least waited until I had left the the room before undressing.”
“What’s the problem? We used to see each other undressed all the time as kids. Hell, we even took showers together after gym class in high school. Why the prudish attitude all of a sudden? You’re not suffering from some subconscious unfulfilled latent homosexual urges are you?” Kim finished the last sentence with a quick sardonic wink.
Steam was now beginning to fill the room, suttlely clouding both women’s vision of each other. If Kim could see clearly at this point, she would have been somewhat taken aback at Wendy’s appearance as she rounded the bend at 30 and began her twenty-something stretch. The scars and weight that had been forced upon her during the last twenty abusive years of her life began to melt away. Wendy’s body was starting to firm up as agelines quickly dissolved away. She soon felt the bagginess of her clothes, but simply excused their suddenly strange feel due to the extreme humidity in the room.
“You wish!” Wendy exclaimed in response to Kim’s contemptuous remarks. She quickly turned back around toward the fogged up mirror and wiped a clearing across it. “Just because you’re a paid psychatrist for a living, doesn’t mean you can project your unwanted psycho-babble on others. Talk to me, don’t analyze me.”
“Hmphf! Touchy!” Kim shrugged, deciding to drop the conversation as quickly as she had brought it up. With a flick of her fingers, the back of her bra opened, releasing their contents. Without their fabric support, Kim’s ample breasts (38 C) sagged considerably, stretchmarks clearly visible underneath her arms from their weight.
The 22 year old Wendy blushed slightly at the reflection of Kim’s topless body in the mirror. She watched out of the corner of eye as Kim walked over to the shower, slowly stripped her panties off, opened the door and stepped in. The slamming of the shower door shut jolted the 20 year Wendy back to her senses.
As Wendy’s body worked it’s way back to adolescence, her mind now began rewinding itself to keep pace. Short term memory went first, causing her surroundings to seem less and less familiar (not that they were that recognizable to begin with). Long term memory quickly followed, taking the good along with the bad. Every few seconds brought up a different question which Wendy’s mind barely had time to contemplate before another new mystery surfaced.
Once in a while their was enough of a pause in her transformation where she could slightly get a hold of her bearings. One of those time occurred when Wendy hit 16, suddenly snapping out of the daze she had been in.
“What the heck . . .?!” Wendy exclaimed in confusion with her new girlish voice. “What’s with these clothes?”
Either by reflex or subconscious impulse, Wendy did a quick inspection of her body, padding herself down from head to toe. Thankfully everything checked out, she still seemed (in her mind) to be a perfectly normal 15 year old girl. The only complaint she had about herself was that she wished her breasts were larger, a fault now emphasized by the emmence bra that eclipsed them.
Wendy leaned into the mirror and wiped another streak across it’s fogged surface, which was about a foot lower than the one she had made previously. The 14 year old looked at herself in the reflective clearing she had made. A cute, red-hair, freckled-faced girl in comicly over-sized clothes returned her stare.
Before Wendy could form any kind of hypothesis on her state of dress, her attention was suddenly broken by the sound of a woman singing in the shower next to her. Shocked by the realization she was not alone in the room, Wendy jumped out of her shoes, literally. Even though the shower had been on the entire time she had been regressing, she always thought it was on for her to use.
The combination of being in strange clothes, in a strange bathroom, with a stranger shocked Wendy enough to make her want to hastily leave the room. It took her a while to reach the door, due to poor visibilty from the steam and poor movement from her ill-fitting clothes.
“Finally!” Wendy silently said to herself as her finger grabbed and turned the doorknob.
Making an entrance into the hallway that Kramer from “Sienfeld” would have been proud of, Wendy swung open the door and began to step into the cool air. Unforunately, her first step met with a problem, as the black stretch-knit pull-on pants she wore fluttered down around her ankles, easily taking her white panties along for the ride. It seemed her hips had receded enough so that the elastic waistband on the pants had nothing to hang onto any longer. The unexpected confinment of her barefeet caused her to lose her already altered balance, and Wendy fell, face first onto the hallway carpet with a ‘THUD”. The top half of her body, which was completely covered up by a now humongus bright agua colored, short-sleeve blouse, layed in the hallway, while her bare bottom was now fully exposed in the bathroom.
Kim heard the noise and abruptly stopped singing her version of “My Heart Will Go On”. Wendy heard the woman in the shower suddenly become quiet and, kicking the remains of her pants off her feet, scurried into the hallway.
“Hey Wendy, what was that noise?” Kim asked as she opened the shower door to see what all the commotion was about. The room was empty, except for a pair of white pumps and a crumpled up pair of black stretch pants on the floor. “That’s weird!” Kim pondered for a second, before returning to her shower and her one-woman concert.
In the hallway, a 10 year old Wendy was trying to figure out where she was and why. The super-sized blouse she wore, actually the only thing she now wore, covered her down to her knees and only helped in adding another layer to this already confusing mystery.
Trying to get some clue as to her current whereabouts, she entered the first dark doorway she came across and flicked on the light.
“Whoa!” Wendy commented with a transfixed wonderment. It was Claudia’s 12 year old daughter’s room and to Wendy’s 10 year old sensibilities it was a dream come true.
The pink walls were covered with posters of boys Wendy had never heard of before, but she thought they were cute anyway, even though she preferred the likes of Davy Jones, Bobby Sherman, or even Fabian.
Doing a quick survey of the room, her attention focused on an object laying on the bed. It was a doll. Wendy walked over to the bed and pulled a rumpled up cheerleadering uniform off the figure. “Groovy! I’ve never seen a doll like this before.” Wendy looked at the doll for a little bit longer before putting it under her arm and continuing her tour of the room.
“This girl must be rich!” Wendy commented to herself, as her eyes went from the television, to the stereo, to the phone, to the computer. “She’s got two TVs. Man, I don’t even have one in my room.”
Wendy was about to turn on the computer to see if Room 222, her favorite television show, was on when she heard a faint, yet familiar voice from downstairs. She clamored into the hallway to verify what she heard.
“HELLO?!?! Is anybody home?” Wendy heard the voice say from downstairs. She quickly trotted down the stairway, with the doll in tow, as fast as her little legs could carry her. Finally, someone who could help her through all this madness.
An unseen smile began to form and grow on the wooden white face of the doll.
END OF PART 2