Another day, another story!
My sister has always hated two things. Dolls and Clowns. The combination of the two is lethal.
Her dolls were history the moment that they were brought into the house. She wasn't going to love them or push them around in a buggy. She wasn't going to change their clothes, rock them or give them kisses. And she surely was not going to sleep with them. Because to Sister all dolls are demons and the only thing worse than a doll is clown. (My apologies in advance to all you wonderful clowns out there but just a word of advice, you might want to circle wide around my sister.) The troll wasn't the only doll of question seeing how my Aunt Kate bought my cousin Beverly, a big, Susie walks-a-lot or talks-a-lot doll when we were little. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, in the family knew the doll had a demon and nobody would seep with it in the room with them because it stood in the corner and stared at you with that one eye. The doll was old by now and missing some hair and had one eye that kinda rolled up in its head and blinked at you but that one good eye was trained on you and plotting all manner of things all night long.
So, we would tip-toe from the bedroom, try to pick up the doll without touching it and take it to another room where we would stand it in the corner facing inward. And then run like hell.
When I took a friend to visit my Aunt Kate they took a wary look at Suzie and said, "Something's not just right with that doll." I'm like - "OH, you mean Susie walks-a-lot demon doll? What ever gave you the first clue? That head spinning all the way around?
Okay, so I never actually saw the head spinning around but I knew it was doing it the minute I walked out of the room. Aunt Kate swore that Susie walks-a-lot was a treasure and an antique something or other at this pint and worth some money so that we couldn't take her for a special drive in the country and toss her off a bridge but believe me we tried. For Years! Imagine if you will that generations of children had to be traumatized by Susie who were otherwise having a joyous time to be hanging out at Aunt Kate's. Until nightfall that is when Susie woke up. But eventually, every doll gets it's day as Susie did the night my now very, big, teenage son, our practical joker - who also knew the doll was a DEMON - picked it up while trying not to touch it and stood it by the bed where I was sleeping so that I woke up to Susie's one good eye staring me down an inch from my nose. That was the morning that Susie lost her head - literally - and one arm - also literally - to yours truly who must have remembered a few old karate moves after all.
Aunt Kate was not very happy about this although you can still hear my son laughing if you try. Aunt Kate said something like, "She was a collectors item is what she as but that's alright. I knew you never liked that doll." Then she made me breakfast, hoecake, tomato gravy and bacon which I ate with a big grin on my face. If it ever tasted good before it really tasted sweet knowing that demon Susie had plotted her last nightmare.
A FEW YEARS LATER JUST BEFORE SHE PASSED -
Aunt KATE felt that her time was growing short on this Earth and wanted to give away some of her little things. I went to visit down Georgia way and She reaches wayyyyy in the back of a china cabinet pulls out this creepy little clown doll. I swear. And says, "I want you to give this to Sister for her baby. I know my sister is not no way not happening going to let that little Chuckie thing into the house. No way.
"River, I see that look on your face and you better do what I'm telling you and give this doll to your sister to give the baby you hear me."
"And you better promise me you going to give it to her. You promise me?"
"Ummm, Aunt Kate, I don't really think that she's gonna want . . .
"What's a matter with that doll? Nothing's the matter with it!!. I'll tell you what. It's a collectors item. Now you better promise me that you'll give it to her when you get home."
I lock the doll in the trunk and head for Nashville driving like batman. Just as soon as I get home I call Sister and tell her that Aunt Kate sent her something very special.
"Really?" (She thinks it's something good like family china.)
"Yep. She sent you something really, special and made me promise to give it to you RIGHT AWAY so you need to come by here and get it with a quickness."
Sister comes by on her way home from work. She is in a big hurry and that's not a problem for me. The thing is still in the trunk and I think I can hear it clawing to get out. She stands by her car waiting as I pull the creepy clown doll out of the trunk and start toward her. She begins to back away saying, NOOOOOO.
You must take it! I make the Aunt Kate PROMISE," I scream.
I open her door and FLING IT IN HER CAR AS SHE TAKES OFF Like a whirlwind caught in a hurricane. There's a dust trail wafting in her wake.
I give her just enough time to get home and call. "Okay, where'd you put him?"
"Ha. You think that little demon from hell is getting in my house? Oh, hell no! I tossed that thing out the window going eighty miles an hour and then kept swerving so he couldn't pull up and get my tag number and follow me home."
Hwy 100. Nashville. Dark of night. Beware.
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