[#071] Ignorance is Bliss

I leaned through the doorway and glanced around the moon-tinted shadows of my little girl's room in astonishment. Glassy orbs glinted in hordes from the shelf above the bed. More dolls as large as cats lined up along the dresser, and one as tall as a child lounged in the rocking chair beneath the window, the occasional flash of lightning gleaming off its nylon hair.

Honestly, I'd have woken with a start myself with all those glittering eyes watching me. Especially in a power outage.

"Well, I regret not bringing a flashlight," I admitted with a shrug.

Beatrice was busy studying the wood grain beneath her feet when I turned around, and I knelt to squint at her face. "You don't have anything to be afraid of, sweetie. Your dolls aren't going to hurt you. They're just shapes in the dark."

She finally turned and trudged back into her room after a couple words of encouragement, and I smiled at her one more time as I pulled the door shut. Bea's paranoia had spilled over onto me, and I felt foolish power-walking as quietly as I could down the hallway, terrified something might hear.

The glow of an LED lantern greeted me in the kitchen. My wife sat at the table, slumped over the tall bottle she'd polished off while I was gone. She growled around her arm as I reached for the coffee maker. "How many?"

I glanced over my shoulder at her. "Six or seven. Maybe... Maybe eight?"

Samantha lifted her head and glared at me. "You can't count them?"

"I didn't buy them, how can I keep track of them?"

"Jesus, you haven't been listening to me." She leered up at me from her pile of misery. "Nobody bought them. She didn't have any. Did you see the one in the rocking chair? That look on its face..."

I glanced at my watch. "Four more hours. We all had to do this once. They won't hurt her as long as she ignores them."

"Four more hours? What are you talking about?"

"Until dawn." I cocked an eyebrow at her. "We can sleep when its daylight. She can sleep."

Samantha opened her mouth and paused a moment. Then she rose from the table so quickly she knocked the lantern to the floor. She gripped my shoulders, shaking me furiously. "Michael, she isn't here. Did you forget? I dropped Bea off at mom's house before the storm hit."

The lantern rolled into the hallway, coming to a stop at a small pair of plastic feet.