**The Doll**
In the village, life was lived in full view. Secrets were hard to keepsooner or later, everything came to light.
Everyone knew everything about this couple. They had married for love, a fine pairboth strong, hardworking. Their well-kept home, which they had rebuilt themselves, and the tidy yard, where weeds had long been banished in favor of summer flowers, spoke of their care. The young wife was always warm with the neighbors, never one for gossip. Her husband, quieter by nature, was a man of few wordsbut silence could mean many things. Some men were gentle beneath it. Others, like him, had steel beneath the skin. It ran in his blood, passed down from his father and grandfather. Yet, with his wife, he was different. He took on the hardest chores, drove to town without complaint to buy her new things, never skimped. Andmost rare of allhe never joined the men at the pub. Theyd tried to coax him at first, but hed wave them off*”No, thank you.”* That was enough. He wouldnt drink. And, of course, he never raised a hand to her. Some women envied her for it. She had tried, once, to persuade others not to endure beatings, but no one listened. *”Youre just lucky,”* theyd say. The bitter ones added, *”Who knows how long that will last? Maybe one day youll be running to the barn too.”* She never answered them. She pitied women who let their husbands walk all over them.
But there was one shadow in their marriage: four years together, and still no children. Both were healthy. Yet, nothing.
Then, one day, a neighbor begged them to take a puppyher terrier had birthed eight. Seven had found homes. The runt remained, small and fragile. *”Take her,”* the neighbor urged. *”Youll fatten her up, train her. A little bell of life in your yard.”* To the wifes surpriseshed been ready to say yes but feared his refusalhe agreed. And so, they took in the pup. They named her Doll.
No one could say who doted on her morethe wife or the husband. He taught her tricks, carried her inside when it rained. When she grew, he built her a kennelspacious, with a wooden floor. He trained her to sleep there. But at night, they let her roam. She always returned, knowing her place.
Then, one day, the wife noticedDoll was expecting. And that was when the husbands true nature flared. He turned on the dog. Nohe *hated* her. Chained her up. *”If I catch you leaving the yard, dont bother coming back,”* he warned.
The day came. Doll bore four pups in the night. They hadnt heard a sound. At dawn, when he went to refill her water, he saw them. He stormed back inside.
*”Dolls turned the yard into a bloody kennel,”* he snapped. *”Four of them, born last night.”*
*”Really?”* The wife brightened. *”And she didnt make a peep! Ill go see.”*
*”Go on. Before I drown them.”*
She froze. *”Drown them? Puppies? And what about Doll? You think she wont feel it? That shes got no mothers heart?”* She rallied. *”Ill ask around the villagesomeone might want one”*
But he was already outside. She followed. He was filling a barrelbucket after bucket from the well. She knelt by the kennel, watching Doll curled around her four tiny shapes. Tears ran down her face. Shed heard of this, but never seen it. Never seen this cruelty.
She knew him. Knew she couldnt stop him. So she walked back inside. Shut the doors. The windows. So she wouldnt see. Wouldnt hear.
Later, he came in. *”They didnt feel a thing. Blind still. Buried them at the far end of the garden.”*
She whispered, *”Did Doll understand?”*
*”How should I know? I didnt ask. But Ive locked her in the kennel.”*
*”Listenshes howling.”*
*”Shell stop. Maybe shell learn not to stray.”*
Something inside her cracked. Yes, in the village, litters were drownedkittens, puppies. But why like *this*?
That day, she barely spoke to him. He grumbled, *”Whats with the bloody sentiment? Wholl feed them? Clean up after them? That not matter?”*
Dolls eyes stayed wet with tears. Some might scoffdogs dont cry. But she *saw* them. And she felt guilty. She noticed Doll kept slipping to the gardens edge, sitting like a statue in one spot. Then she knewthat was where hed buried them.
Twice more, Doll had pups. Twice more, he drowned them. Then chained her for weeks. She never got used to it. And neither did the wife. She didnt think of leavingbut what had once bound them frayed.
Then came the last straw.
Doll was heavy with pups again. Her belly sagged. She waddled, slow and awkward. Autumn had come, and she barely left the kenneltoo cold.
But she never froze. One morning, he took his shotgun, scooped her up, and marched to the pond.
The old neighborthe one whod given them Dollsaw it happen. She stood frozen, tears on her wrinkled cheeks. As he passed, her voice trembled. *”What have you done, lad? Taken lives. Not just a doga mother and her unborn. You think God wont notice? That He wont do the same to your own?”*
He glared but said nothing. Who was she to judge? Her own house was full of strays, yet she lived hand-to-mouth. Comparing children to pupsridiculous. But her words stuck, buried deep.
At home, he meant to tell his wife. Chose his words carefully, knowing it would hurt her. But she met him with news:
*”I think Im pregnant.”*
Everything else vanished. Thisthis was joy. Long-awaited. Unthinkable.
*”Get your coat,”* he said. *”Ill start the car. Were going to the hospital.”*
At the clinic, tests confirmed itfive weeks along. She emerged, braced for his impatience at the wait. But he was radiant. *”Id have waited all day,”* he said. *”Boy or girldoesnt matter. Just ours.”*
Suddenly, they had a future. They talked constantlycribs, names, toys. They itched to shop but held backsuperstition said buying early brought bad luck.
A month before the due date, she spiked a fever. Thenworsethe baby stopped moving. They rushed to the hospital. The midwife took her in. He waited. Time stretched, then snapped.
The doctor emerged. *”We saved your wife. The child was stillborn.”*
He stumbled outside, blind with grief. Then rememberedhe hadnt even asked. He turned back.
*”Was ita boy or a girl?”*
The young nurse softened. *”Let me check.”* She returned. *”A boy.”*
He sat in the car and wept.
They let him see her. He dreaded her eyesand rightly so. Her face was gaunt, all light gone from her stare. He kissed her hand. *”Youll get better. Well have children. The doctor promised.”*
She tried to smile. Said nothing.
For a year, they followed the doctors orders. She took air in the garden, where hed set up a bench and table. He brought crosswords from townshe devoured them. Shed picked up the habit at the village library, where shed read every book twice. With the youth gone, readers were scarce. Crosswords filled the silence.
Every morning, he fetched fresh cream and curds from a farm. Slowly, she improved. Then, one day, she met him with a shy smile. *”I think its happened. Im pregnant.”*
This time, they barely spoke of itafraid to jinx it. The village knew nothing.
Then, at eight months, labor came early. They called an ambulance. It saved her lifebut not the baby. A girl, born dead in the back of the van.
A week later, he returned to the hospital. *”Why? Two stillbornswhy?”*
The doctor spread his hands. *”There were no signs. Both times, everything was normal.”*
Superstition crept in. Had they been cursed?
At home, his wife was a ghost. Unwashed. Unmoving. Once, she whispered, *”Find a real wife. Im barren.”*
That word*barren*was a brand no woman wanted.
He snapped. *”Dont say that!”*
But how to help her? If the doctor was rightif it *was* a cursehow to fight it?
He remembered a neighbor hed driven to the next village. Her son-in-law in the city was deathly illdoctors were baffled. Shed gone to see a local wise woman, Granny Agatha. *”Maybe hes been cursed,”* shed said.
Now, he stole his wifes photothe one from the village halland went.
Granny Agathas cottage had a queue. He waited. Inside, the air smelled of incense and lavender. Icons glowed in lamplight.
Before he could speak, she said, *”Your wifes not to blame. You took livesfor no reason.”*
He exploded. *”Liar! Ive killed no one!”* He threw money at her and stormed out.
Driving home, he passed the old neighborthe one whod given them Doll, whod seen the killing. What had she said? *”You took a mother and her young. God sees.”*
A chill seized him. He remembered Dolls eyesshed *known* what hed do. Shed remembered the drowned pups. That was why shed sat by the garden.
And nowhis wifes eyes were just like Dolls.
He *was* a killer.
The next day, he went to the cathedral. Didnt know how to pray. An old woman tending candles listened. He confessed everythingDoll, the pups, the stillborn babies. His wifes despair.
*”How do I beg forgiveness?”*
*”Light a candle for your wife,”* she said. *”Then help those who need it. Theres a dog shelter nearby. Go.”*
He went. The dogs wagged, hopeful. He asked what they needednot food, but cleaning supplies. Then, a favorcould he drive the vet sometimes? He gave his number.
For six months, he helped. Learned their names. They knew himwagging when he came.
Then he saw Benny. A tiny puppy, missing an ear, found by train tracks. Skinny. Lopsided. He took Benny to the vet, told him stories in the cararmy days, meeting his wife. But never Doll.
When he left, Benny cowered in his pen, eyeing himhurt or hopeful?
That night, he told his wife. *”Im bringing a guest tomorrow. If you dont like him, Ill take him back.”*
She shrugged.
He fetched Benny. The pup knew this was differentstayed quiet, watching him. Inside, his wife barely glanced up.
Then Benny whined.
She turned. Stood. *”Good Lordwheres your ear?”*
Benny licked her hands. She held him.
That night, Benny slept in a boot-box. But by morning, he was curled on her pillow. She woke, alive in her eyes for the first time in months. Benny licked her cheekspink flushed back into them.
He laughed. *”Bennywalk!”*
*”You two go,”* she said. *”Ill make breakfast.”*
He nearly wept. How long since shed said that?
Benny was a healer. A miracle. He kept helping the shelter. And, soon, his wife came too.
One evening, she whispered, *”Im pregnant.”*
He froze.
*”Dont be afraid,”* she said. *”I believe in miracles now. In you. Youve changed. This time, itll be alright.”*
She was right. Or maybe it *was* a miracle.
Hed softened. If it had been a curse, it was broken. Hed begged forgiveness. Helped where he could. Andit seemedGod had listened.
Now, twin girls chased Benny through the garden. His redemption. Proof that kindness was power.
His past cruelty? Gone without a trace.
And he knewlife was lighter without it. For him. For others. For all living things.
