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1995-12-29
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47 lines
Copyright 1995(c)
The Good Seed
By Bartram Wolfe
There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for Caroline. The child made
her entire world go round and she doted on her. She tried, most often,
to give the child quality attention and not just lip service. Sometimes
she insisted Caroline leave her alone and entertain herself, but more
often than not she interrupted what she was doing for the child. The
child was first in all things.
Caroline colored quietly as her grandmother decorated the tree.
The two talked as each worked. "I've put in a special order to Santa
Claus for you this year," said the grandmother. The child said nothing.
"It's a doll and it looks just like you," said the grandmother,
unable to contain her surprise. She finished decorating the tree and
turned. "And you can open it first," she said, taking the present to the
child.
She had spent $120 all told for the doll. She'd seen the company
advertised on television in the middle of the night while she was up
'straightening up,' in that obsessive way she had. It didn't bother her, and
she had incorporated it into her lifestyle. She would often rise at 3:00 a.m.
and polish the kitchen table, then return to bed and sleep soundly until
6:30 a.m.
She'd saved toward it and ordered it in June. It had arrived in
plenty of time for Christmas. The doorbell rang.
"Ma'am, you'll have to evacuate this building. There's a fire in
the elevator. Take the stairwell at the North end of the building. It's
that way," he pointed, as if expecting her to leave at once.
"Let me get my purse and a couple of my valuables," said the
grandmother, turning to her bedroom. "Caroline, come along right away with
this nice fireman. I'll just be a mo--"
"Sorry, ma'am, there's no time," said the fireman, pushing her out
and through the door. He left Caroline behind, and she began to shriek.
***
"No casualties? Hell of a thing," said the fire chief some 35 minutes
later.
"That thing sure went up like a matchbox," said his Lieutenant.
"We got nothin' but the crazy broad," he said, pointing to the
clearly-sedatd figure on a stretcher.
"Matilda Saunders. Lived in 2-B condo with her grandaughter 'til
the kid died last year. She had a doll that looked just like the kid --
ordered it from some specialty doll company that makes them from
photographs. The doll was on the couch and I think she wanted to get it,
but there wasn't time. She went nuts and screamed 'til they shot her up.
You'd think it was a real kid."
End