Supernatural Tale

A Surprise for Christmas

It’ll take a miracle for Lucy’s love to make it home in time for Christmas.

‘There’s a parcel coming.’ Archie’s voice rang with excitement. ‘An enormous parcel.’

Lucy smiled. ‘You don’t have to send me anything. You know I only want you — home safe and sound.’ She closed her eyes to focus on the sound of his voice. She lived for these moments, counting down the seconds between calls, her heart soaring when an unexpected text message came through, or a postcard appeared in the mail.

‘You know I’ll be back,’ his voice softened. ‘I love you.’

‘Love you, too.’

‘And don’t you forget it!’ There was a pause. ‘The parcel… It’s something you won’t be expecting. Just look after it, okay. I’ll be out of range from now until Christmas Eve. So you won’t be able to call me. But don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. And I’ll see you again soon!’

The parcel was so big it barely fit through the front door.

Lucy sat it in the middle of the lounge room, peeling back the paper to reveal an enormous doll's house.

Her heart sank.

In truth, she’d hoped that Archie himself was her oversized Christmas gift, that he’d been able to work miracles and come home early.

She missed him so much her chest ached, and knowing it was impossible for him to get back before the New Year didn’t stop her from wishing he could.

She opened the front panels on the house. It was her house, she realised, but renovated, just the way she’d always planned — right down to the colour scheme.

She frowned. This must have cost a fortune. Why didn’t he save his money so they could renovate for real?

Peering into the rooms, she found a single doll, asleep in the bed in the master bedroom.

She pulled him out, her eyes pricking with tears when she saw it was a perfect replica of Archie himself, brown eyes, dark hair, even wearing a replica of Archie’s favourite jacket.

Lucy hugged the doll to her chest.

‘I miss you,’ she whispered, closing her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek.

‘I miss you, too.’

Lucy glanced up at the whispered words. ‘I must be desperate.’ She shook her head. ‘Now I’m hearing him.’

The next day, her sister came with her nieces and nephews. She told them not to touch the doll or the house, but after they left, she found mini-Archie sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, the fridge door ajar.

When her sister visited again, the following afternoon she chastised the kids, but they insisted they hadn’t touched him, and though they played outside for the afternoon, the doll had moved again after they left, this time watering the plastic roses in the window box.

Lucy shivered, putting the doll back into bed and closing the front panels of the dollhouse.

As the days passed, the doll kept moving. She found him in the shower, lying on the couch reading a book, cooking dinner in the kitchen.

She tried locking the dollhouse in the bathroom, then a cupboard, then the garage, but each morning it was back in the lounge, scuff marks showing where it had been dragged across the carpet.

She tried to call Archie, even though he’d said he’d be out of range.

‘You need to stop this.’ She shouted at the doll. ‘Please. Just stop.’

The doll just looked at her, a sad expression on his face.

Christmas Eve came, and still no call from Archie, though Lucy checked her phone again and again to make sure the battery wasn’t flat, that she hadn’t mysteriously lost service.

She left the family get together early, holding back her sobs until she’d shut the front door behind her.

On a whim she grabbed mini-Archie from the dollhouse, clenching it to her chest as she threw herself onto her bed, tears pouring down her cheeks.

‘Where are you?’ she whispered, her chest tight with all the fears she couldn’t allow herself to voice; because why else wouldn’t he have called? ‘Oh Archie. I miss you.’

‘I missed you, too.’

Lucy bolted upright. ‘Archie?’

She fumbled with the bedside lamp, peering into the gloom for his familiar shape.

‘Here.’

Something squirmed in her hand, and she reacted on instinct, throwing the doll onto the bed as though it were a spider.

‘Archie?’ She peered at it, her heart pounding as it rolled over and sat up.

‘Thank god that was the bed and not the floor.’ It rubbed the back of its neck.

‘Archie?’ Lucy didn’t recognise the squeak that came out of her mouth.

He peered up at her, a grin spreading across his face. ‘I’m home.’

‘You… You’re a doll!’

‘Yeah. For the moment.’

‘You’re tiny.’

‘You can help with that.’

Was she hallucinating? Lucy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hadn’t had anything to drink at the family get together, she’d needed to be sober to drive herself home. Perhaps someone had slipped something into her drinks? But why would they do that?

She opened her eyes again, dropping to her knees on the floor so she was eye-level with the doll.

‘Why?’

He frowned. Her heart fluttered at the familiar expression, but she still couldn’t accept that this experience was real, that this doll was actually her love.

‘You wanted me home early. There was no way they were going to let me leave, but they’d let me send a parcel.’

‘But how… and who… and why?’ She realised she was repeating herself, but she couldn’t move past the impossibility of the whole situation.

Mini-Archie’s frown deepened, and he stalked across the bed. ‘Just kiss me.’

‘What?’

‘Kiss me.’ He planted his fists on his hips, scowling at her.

She frowned. ‘Assuming this is real, and not a hallucination — what if this is all a trick? What if you aren’t my Archie at all? What if you’re some sort of… I don’t know… demon or something?’

The doll’s arms dropped to its sides. ‘Oh, love.’ He took another step, reaching up so his tiny hand brushed her cheek. It was warm, and Lucy was surprised by the sudden tear that ran down her face.

‘You cried that time I shaved my beard, do you remember? Your sister came over and was furious with me because she thought we’d been fighting, but she thought I looked better clean-shaven, so you didn’t want to tell her you were crying over a beard.’

Lucy’s cheeks flushed at the memory only she and Archie shared, and she lowered her head so her chin was resting on the bedspread, letting mini-Archie press his forehead against hers.

‘I love you, Lucy. I’ve missed you, so so much. I thought I could work away from you, but I can’t. It was awful. And then they wouldn’t let me quit, and there was all sorts of weird stuff going on.’ He shuddered. ‘Then I stumbled on an old wise woman, and she got me out.’

More tears escaped Lucy’s eyes, and she picked up mini-Archie and pressed her lips against the side of his face.

He swelled in her hand, growing so fast she had to drop him on the bed, her eyes widening as he returned to his normal size before her eyes.

‘I wished you’d done that when you first opened the parcel.’ He rolled his neck and shoulders, and stretched out his legs.

‘What?’

‘Kissed me. Would’ve saved all these weeks of anguish.’

‘You thought I would kiss a doll?’ Lucy frowned.

‘A doll of me, yes.’

She laughed, leaning in close to kiss him again. ‘You’re home.’

He grinned. ‘I am.’ He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back onto the bed. ‘And we have weeks' worth of time to catch up on.’

If you enjoyed this, you might enjoy some of my other (steamier) stories.