Annabelle has escaped from Warren Museum and you are her target. What will you do if you have just a day before she shows up?
Lorraine Warren is no more. Their star attraction has gone.What would I do?
Meanwhile, I’d wash her sister, a non-possessed Raggedy Ann, and ready my sewing kit.
I go into my storage, and take out the beautiful doll's tea set, nearly a hundred years old, that my mother had, and then me. I had no children, and girls nowadays would rather their dolls worked out and went clubbing than uphold tradition.
I set a cloth on our Harvest Table, and set to work baking and brewing. It would be a mixed spread, with both Doll and Human…People, I corrected myself…dishes.
I opted for a simple menu of mixed tea sandwiches, Royal Lunch crackers, and a traditional Mud Pie, upscaled with art-grade Italian Plastalina.
It seemed like I was in a dream when I put on my handsewn skirt — so unlike the confections of my youth — and hunted up my faux pearls. Not having a white blouse, a T-shirt would have to do. At least I had flats, instead of flip-flops.
How would she deal with the doorknob? I wondered. Perhaps, I ought to just leave it ajar.
I sat down, and waited. The old feeling, not quite trance, not quite dream, comes back. I’m happy to be with my best and oldest friends.
R. Ann gave me her fondest smile. “It’s been especially hard for her.” She looked down at her sculpturedtrapunto hands, with her wedding ring of pure gold. We both knew what she wanted. “Not having an Andy, for so long…” I remember the cut, the needle lace of her lips, the single pearl…That wonder the night when I knew that she and Andy were really, truly married…
Gregory Sasha looked sheepish. He’s about twelve or so, circa 1969. He’ll always be about twelve, not a boy but not yet a man. More enlightened cultures would have him go through a ritual of manhood, about this time. His older brother became a junkie and lives on the third floor of the Yale Art Gallery. When we first met, we were the same age, and played with each other under Summer sheets. Now I don’t know whether he liked that, and I guard his innocence. But there are things he should know. He liked playing Steve Jobs back when I was an Apple rep in the 90's. Now his face has a little scar. But he has beautiful eyes….
We wait. Then we hear a thump.
I run to the door.
“Annabelle…?: