#I'm shaking n whimpering like an immorally bred miniature dog

[bitchdafuqyousay]

Roadside Find: Short Story

It was ridiculously humid, adding to the swelter that surrounded and chased after the rusty old pick-up truck. The damned thing’s AC was broken, and having the windows down provided no sort of relief whatsoever; just made the shrieks of the cicadas seem even louder. Dust was kicked up by the tires crunching over the dirt road, but thankfully none flew into the car as by the time it got high enough to reach the windows they’d already passed that particular cloud of grit. 

Usually she’d scold her friend for being such a reckless driver, but she didn’t mind it currently. Afterall, no one else was on this long country straight-shot. Kudzu covered trees whizzed by as she stared out the window, glancing to the front seats when the young man in the passenger seat gave a heady sigh, but then returning her gaze out the open window, looking forwards meant a full face of hot, country sun, and it was uncomfortable enough as is without seared retinas. 

“What the fuck is that-” the driver barked suddenly, slowing the truck to a crawl and squinting into the distance. She unbuckled and leaned forwards in between the two front seats, resting her hand on the passenger’s slim shoulder.

“Ya’ll see that thing too, right?” He grumbled and glanced at his friends briefly, waiting for them to nod in confirmation before sliding his gaze to the thing on the roadside roughly twenty yards ahead of them. 

There, in the dust and dirt was a little body, completely still and laying on its side. Crumpled and faced away from the truck, it’s front obscured from the three young travelers. 

“Is- is that a kid?!” The young man in the passenger seat said hoarsely, his voice filled with anxiety; and he had every reason to be nervous, it certainly looked like a kid. A little boy no larger than a six or seven year old. 

“We should call-” the driver began, but the young woman was already leaping from the car, the backdoor swinging open as she rushed out, ignoring the dust she kicked up as she quickly paced towards the little figure in the dirt, if it was in fact a child, she’d be damned if she didn’t try to help right now. Wait in the truck for who knows how long for someone else to arrive her ass, if it was a kid, they needed help now, no doubt. 

She ignored the yells of her two male companions to get back inside the rust bucket, that they shouldn’t touch whatever or whoever it was and instead call for real, decent help.

She knelt in the dust and gently turned over the little figure, letting out a huge sigh of relief; “No reason to call anyone-” she hollered over her shoulder “-It’s not a kid, it’s just a doll. Like one of them live sized things collectors are into.”

She continued to ignore her friends as they told her to just leave the thing so they could be on their way and get off of the “bum fuck, hick country road” and back to civilization; civilization with food and air conditioning.

But she kept poking at the doll and observing it at her own leisure, her male companions’ calls simmering down into frustrated grumbles between themselves. 

The doll’s hair was a rich auburn, shining like amber in the scorching sun and reflecting the heat waves in a way that made it look like fire. His glass eyes were so bright a blue it looked as though rather than eyes they were mirrors reflecting the cloudless summer atmosphere above them. The thing was a real work of artistry and dedicated craftsmanship; a small, pale pink blotch adorned his left cheek, and delicate freckles splattered his face. The patch could be a birthmark, maybe. Whatever it was, it gave a sense of life to the doll, made him look real. 

“I bet he’s modeled after a real person.” She cooed and hoisted the thing off the road so it could sit on her hip, quickly bounding back to the truck with her new found treasure. 

“He’s got like, a birthmark? I think? Which would be an odd thing to put on ‘im if he isn’t based on an actual person.” 

“Oh , ew… Think it’s like, one of those memento mori sort of deals? Like somebody’s kid died so they had that thing made in his likeness?” the boy in the passenger seat fretted, leaning away and making a bit of a fuss as she clambered back into the truck with the doll.

“Maybe, and if so that’s all the more reason I don’t wanna leave him on the side of the road, might’ve fallen out a moving truck or something…”

Soon as she was rebuckled in her seat the driver shifted gears and began to move again, rolling up the windows and saying nothing about the situation at all. He’d known the girl much longer than the other boy and figured she’d made her mind up to keep the wretched thing the moment she’d seen what it was.

She had odd hobbies, and would pick up anything that caught her eye.

She sat quietly and continued to admire the doll; it had the face and general build of a young man who was maybe about nineteen or so; fairly developed and quite handsome. She could feel under his clothes that he’d been carefully sculpted to have lean muscles, she was stunned by the incredible amount of detail and precision that went into making him. He’d no doubt been well taken care of up to this point. Love and tenderness was evident in his carefully parted and combed hair, the press and pleats of his linen button up shirt, the straight and well fit waistcoat over it, and the black slacks he wore had been carefully ironed, and some elegant shiny black shoes with spats over ‘em; his dashing appearance having been disturbed only slightly by his time on the road. 

“He’s only a bit dirty, but I’ll bet that's from being out on the roadside. But he isn't dusty enough to have been out there for anything more than a day or two.” She mused as she brushed some of the grit from his shoulder.

She rather liked him. He was a handsome piece of art, she thought. That splotch on his cheek was so delicately painted the freckles smattering his lovely face lingered under it and about its edges where it began to blend into the natural blush of his cheekbones. He had individual eyelashes and eyebrow hairs. The artist who’d made him had even delicately and finely painted body hair; she could see it hinted on his wrists just under the cuffs of his sleeves. His wrists and fingers were finely and properly jointed, and she delighted in that if she linked his fingers between hers, they sorta fell over her knuckles as though he were holding her hand right back.

“He’s right handsome, I think! Whoever made him put a lot of care and detail into him, just look at his hands!” She chirped enthusiastically and continued to fiddle with the large doll in her lap. 

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, and the boy in the passenger seat craned his neck to see what she was talking about.

“I still think it’s weird… it looks too much like a sorta real person, it’s totally uncanny valley.” He turned back around and crossed his arms with a huff, looking to the driver for support.

The other male only shrugged, “If she likes it and wants to keep the thing she can, I don’t care.”

“He does look like a real person-” the girl interjected, “-which is what makes the fact that he was on the side of the road even sadder to me. Somebody obviously loved him a whole lot, but a brief moment of carelessness and now they’ve lost him.” 

She adjusted the doll in her lap and fixed her eyes back out the window, once again watching the kudzu infested trees and the humid, wet forests behind ‘em whizz by as they continued down the dirt road. She arranged the doll’s hands so they were folded politely in his lap, fingers laced and creating a sort of cage.

“Where are you gonna put him?” The driver asked, not looking away from the road, she shrugged.

“Dunno, maybe I’ll sit him on the windowsill in my room.” 

“You gonna keep him next to the plants you got on there?” The boy in the passenger seat asked while he tore open a bag of chips, reaching back to hand her one, and then placing one directly into the driver’s mouth before he himself ate a couple. 

“Mhmm.” She nodded, pausing to finish chewing before continuing, “I’ll set him up there. He can keep watch out my window for weirdos.” Her little quip earned her a snort from the driver and the passenger shook his head, trying to stifle a sigh of displeasure that not only was she keeping the doll, but she’d be putting the damn thing in her bedroom.

The truck cabin soon fell silent, broken only by the sound of the second boy crunching away on his chips, but eventually even that stopped as he fell asleep, his head pressed against the window, arms folded under his chest and snoring slightly. 

The driver zoned out everything but the long road ahead of him, and the young woman leaned her head back against her seat, securing her arm about the doll a little tighter, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

And in the quiet of the truck's cabin, that doll finally allowed himself to smile. He smiled the handsomest and most genuine smile he’d done in ages. And no one noticed a thing as he ever so slightly, ever so carefully and ever so delicately shifted his finely jointed hands in his lap so that his cold, smooth fingers could brush the warm, gentle ones of the young woman who’d oh so nicely rescued him from the dirt on the side of the road.