Tommy's Toy Land © Jessica A. Weiss
“Come one, come all! We've got chills and thrills, freaks and creeps! Hurry, hurry, sights like you've never seen before!” The barker stood on an old barrel beneath a faded sign, enticing small town people to devour the offerings on display.
Tommy stood to the side watching parents' sooth crying children, and rowdy teenage boys assuring their ghostly pale girlfriends that they would keep them safe. Anything was better than being at home, listening to his parents fight.
“There was so much blood, I won't sleep for a week,” one wide-eyed blond exclaimed, clinging to her football star escort as they walked away from the haunted house.
The boy rolled his eyes at her childishness. “It's all fake. Nothing here is real.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her and they walked on.
The tents and stalls looked ancient; holes in canvas tarps, wood poles old and blackened with time. This was not like the other carnivals that came to town. Even the entrance sign was aged and missing letters. Tommy decided to check it out, it couldn't be that bad.
Walking around, Tommy realized there were no rides. There were side shows and freaks, a haunted house, fortune tellers and card readers, unusual game stalls, and the center attraction a giant Toy Land Castle. Finally, he approached a dismal dunking tank.
“Care to try your luck, son?” The man in charge held out a black ball. His smile didn't reach his birdlike eyes and most of his teeth had rotted away.
“Sure. How much?” Tommy held out his hand to receive the heavy ball.
Stepping closer, the man laid a scarred, three fingered hand on Tommy's shoulder. “First try is free,” he cackled, his breath stinking like decomposing trash.
Tommy stood before the woman in the murky tank. She was wearing a dry, thin white dress. Obviously, no one had successfully sent her into the dark fluid below. She smiled as he pulled his arm back to throw the ball, her forked tongue flicking through her lips in anticipation. With a rush, the ball hit the target and the woman in white splashed out of sight, only to resurface a moment later.
She screamed and flailed against the tank. Her dress, skin and hair were covered in slimy red fluid. Watching the crimson rivulets drip down her face, Tommy backed away in shock, his reaction causing the nearly toothless man and drenched woman to laugh hysterically.
“Screw you!” Tommy was angry with himself for letting the freaks get a reaction from him. His outburst only received more laughs. He was going to have to toughen up if he was going to make it on the road alone.
Turning away, he continued to explore the carnival grounds. Across the packed dirt area from the game stall, Tommy saw a cleaner looking tent. Metallic stars caught and reflected the low lights strung from pole to pole. It called to him and he made his way to the shadowed opening.
No one waited to beckon unsuspecting people in, and the tent appeared to be vacant. Tommy felt an unusual disappointment as he started to walk away.
“Come in, Tommy,” a low voice called, stopping his retreat.
Tommy poked his head into the tent flap. “Hello? Did you call me?”
“Yes. Please come in and sit,” the voice replied.
Stepping through a second fabric flap, Tommy's skin crawled as if spiders were dancing on his nerves. Before him was a small round table covered with a tattered, dark blue cloth, a dripping red candle burning at its center. An old woman dressed in rags sat to one side, at the other stood an empty, dusty chair.
She motioned towards the empty chair. “Come, my boy, don't stand there with your mouth open.”
Carefully, Tommy sat. The interior of the tent reeked of mold and dust. Even the old woman across from him smelled ancient and rotting.
“Give me your hand, Tommy.” She laid an old spotted hand on the table, her palm upwards, expecting his.
“How do you know my name?” He kept his hands clasped in his lap. The barker had been correct, this place did have freaks and creeps.
“Madame Boliva knows many things,” she cackled, which turned into a harsh cough. “Your hand, then?”
“Fine, I'll play along.” Tommy was surprised by the softness of her skin, though the chill of her flesh was a bit unsettling. “So now you're going to give me some vague fortune and expect me to pay for specifics, right?” He tried to laugh off his unease.
“So cynical for a young boy.”
“I am not a boy!” Tommy's anger burned his cheeks. He slammed his free hand on the table, the candle dislodging hot, dark red wax, splattering the table cloth.
“Of course not. Fourteen is a man, isn't it?” Amusement colored her voice. “Now, sit calmly while Madame Boliva unravels your future path.” She began tracing the lines on his palm, the jagged edges of her nails scratching his skin.
“I see you've left home and are ready to start your own life without your parents' rules and restrictions.” Her revelations shocked him. No one knew he had run away, his parents probably had not noticed he was gone. “You feel you are man enough to be your own Master. Very good. But I see you as being the Master of others, too, and soon.”
“That's what I'm talking about. I'm going to be the boss of others!” Tommy liked her version of his future. “So I made the right choice in leaving. I am just that good,” he said puffed up with pride. He would be the youngest and most powerful boss ever. His imagination was soaring.
“Would you like to know more? Madame Boliva sees more.” She waited, a smile pulling the corners of her mouth.
“Why not? Can you tell me who I'm going to be the boss of? What kind of company? Just how soon is this going to happen? Where should I go to get this started?” Greed lit his eyes, his discomfort and unease gone.
“You will be their Master, not their boss. You've already started in the right direction and, by the time you reach the next town, you will be the master.”
“The Master of who, of what business?” he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.
“You are Tommy, Master of Toy Land!” she announced with a huge, yellow toothed smile.
“What? Are you crazy?” He pulled his hand free from her grasp. “This is all a stupid joke, isn't it?” He stood angrily, knocking over his chair. “I don't know how you knew so much about me, but this is obviously crap.”
Tommy stormed out of the fortune teller's tent, her laughing cough chasing him. Tears quivered in his eyes, he'd been suckered in and felt small and alone.
He didn't realize how much time had passed while he was with Madame Boliva. The lights outside were dimmed, and all the patrons and marks were gone. The only signs of life came from the muttered conversations of carnival workers as they walked around going about the business of packing up to move on. The full moon shone through thin clouds upon the skeletal carnival grounds.
Regardless of what the crazy fortune teller had said, Tommy was still determined to run away. He never wanted to see his parents again. His mother's screaming accusations at his drunk father were lullabies of a life he did not want. He would continue on his own. He would be fine.
“Hey, you! Get outta here. We're closed,” a gruff voice called from the shadows, yanking Tommy out of his thoughts. “Trying to steal stuff, huh?” The man's coarse, calloused hand closed on the back of Tommy's neck. “We'll see what you've got hidden in your pockets.”
“No, wait, please,” Tommy pleaded, struggling in the big man's grasp. “I wasn't stealing anything.”
“Oh yeah? Then why are you slinking around here in the dark?” The man shook him with every word, making it hard for Tommy to think or speak.
“Put him down, Darkman. He was visiting with me.” Tommy never thought he'd be happy to see Madame Boliva again. The large man set Tommy on his feet and slapped him heartily on the back.
“Why didn't you just say you were a friend of Madame Bolvia to begin with, son?” Darkman attempted to smile, casting deep shadows across his face.
“Not like you gave me much of a chance,” Tommy pouted, rubbing his bruised neck. He looked the man over from head to toe. “What kind of a name is Darkman?”
“It's my name. That's all you need to know.” Darkman stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest, and returned his attention to Madame Boliva. “You sure this kid is okay with you?”
Tommy tensed at being called a kid. “This is no kid, Darkman,” she crooned, winking at her rough companion. “This is Tommy, the Master of Toy Land.”
“Oh?” Darkman raised one bushy eyebrow. “In that case, Master,” he mocked, dipping into a deep comical bow, “Come with me. I'll show you to your domain.”
“This is really dumb. If you mean you want me to be a freak like you, and work in that Toy Land castle, you are really nuts.” Tommy backed away from the towering man, only to stumble into Madame Boliva.
“Go with him,” she whispered in Tommy's ear, her cold hands strong vices gripping his arms. “He won't bite...much.” Her familiar laughing cough rang through the still night.
As hard as he tried, Tommy could not break free of her grip. His eyes grew wide as Darkman came closer, then he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and saw stars. His world shifted sideways and the full moon slipped into view as his eyes closed.
“Take him away. You know what to do,” Madame Boliva instructed Darkman as he picked up Tommy's limp body.
“Are you sure?”
She waved a black and white flier in his face. “He's a runaway, so we're going to help him find a new life.” She smiled softly, a look at odds with the rest of her. “Just like the others.” * * * “Come one, come all! We've got chills and thrills. See the freaks and creeps! Hurry, hurry, hurry! Don't forget to visit Toy Land where all the dolls are alive!” The barker wiggled his eyes at a group of girls as they passed.
“Let's go see the living dolls, Beth,” a young girl said as she nudged her friend. “That should be cool.”
“I'm sure he meant life-sized dolls, nothing cool about that. We're too old for girlish toys, anyways.” The girl flipped her hair and batted her eyelashes at a young man walking past them. “You go if you want, Alice . I'm going to get my fortune told.” Beth walked off, following the cute boy.
Alice made her way to the center of the carnival grounds where another barker called to the crowd. “Welcome to the world's only living toy land. We've got dancing girls, fighting knights and sleeping beauties. For the first time ever, we've got the Master doll! Only two dollars! Seeing is believing.”
She paid her two dollars and stepped through the door. Inside, the rooms were separated by thick glass, each a self contained world. Engraved plaques in front of the displays declared their titles. The place was deadly quiet, as if it were a museum or church.
In the first room Alice saw a mother and father silently watching television with friends in a modern living room. The television played a current sitcom, but the people in the room were expressionless. “If you were real, you'd be laughing like crazy. I watch that show and it's funny,” She said aloud. She did not get a response, not that she expected one, especially since the dolls looked like their lips were glued shut. “Someone should have given you mouths.”
The next glass cell was titled Little Girls' Sweet Dreams Room. There were rows of bunk beds with six girls moving sluggishly around, doing each others hair. A couple of them turned glassy eyes toward Alice , as if they could see her. “A little more realistic, but I'm still not convinced,” she muttered. She waved at them, but they just continued in their slow movements.
In The Knights' Practice Room she watched boys fencing and fighting with swords. They moved quicker than the other dolls she had seen and they even displayed some facial expressions. Stepping closer as one boy swung his sword, she jumped when he cut off another's head. The toy slumped to the floor, dark red liquid spurting from the body and splashing the glass wall where she stood. The toy who had done the damage stood still and wide eyed, as if shocked. “That is amazing technology. I wonder how they make the blood look so real.”
“Gross!” Her first thought escaped her lips as she came upon a dungeon room. “I've never seen this in a doll house.” Before her were two figures dressed in black hoods and leather pants. There were pieces of others, dressed in outfits she'd seen in the other glass rooms, and more of the fake blood she had seen with the fighting boys. Heads, arms, and legs littered the floor. Even a torso, cut from neck wound to belly button, hung on the wall. The engraved plaque simply stated When Toys Misbehave . “How does a toy misbehave?”
Feeling ill and looking for the exit, Alice continued walking along the corridor. As she progressed down the rows, the human-like behaviors increased. It was like watching a child grow up, each stage of life more animated than the previous. “Whoever makes these is getting better.”
She reached the end of the house and came upon a brightly lit throne room. The Master of Toy Land read his plaque. The glass room was covered in lush velvet material, all trimmed in gold. Two enormous thrones sat in the center and a regally dressed young man sat in one, the other mysteriously empty.
Alice stepped closer to the glass barrier. “Hello? You look very real,” she said, lying a hand on the cool surface.
The young man jumped out of his seat and ran toward the vision of Alice on the other side of his cell. She jumped when he slapped the glass. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, and she could see he had no tongue.
“Wow! Whoever made you did a wonderful job!” Alice admired the young man-doll. “If you were real, I'd so date you.”
The Master jumped around, like a madman in a padded room, waving his arms and pointing behind her. His mouth moved constantly, frustration painted over his face, but no words could be heard.
“Are you trying to say something? You are, aren't you?” Alice 's curiosity was piqued. Studying his face she swore the Master of Toy Land looked terrified. “Silly girl,” she chided herself, “Dolls don't feel anything.”
“Move along, young lady,” a large man said, stepping beside her. The doll in the throne room backed away from the man with terror filled eyes, shaking hard enough to be visible. “ We're closing up for the night.” He gently pushed her towards the exit.
“I swear that Master doll was trying to talk.” She glanced over her shoulder, into the young face peeking out from behind the throne. “I almost believe he's alive.”
“All the dolls seem life like. He's the newest version, and much more realistic, which is why he is the Master of Toy Land.” Darkman gave her a wink and a crooked smile.
“Why is there an empty throne in there with him?” she nervously chewed on her lower lip. “Haven't made the right doll to compliment him, that's all. Hope you're enjoying your time tonight. You should go see Madame Boliva before you leave. Her predictions are nearly always correct.” He walked Alice towards the star covered tent. ***
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