Doll Finders
by Julie Ann Shapiro
Roly Poly Doll’s Head
Where do you roll?
Where do you play?
Roly Poly Doll’s Head
Who tucks you under the covers?
Roly Poly Doll’s Head
You can’t stay here
Roly Poly Doll’s Head
Don’t look at me like that
I’m an adult
Roly Poly Doll’s Head
It’s for the best.
You won’t like it here.
There’s no time to play.
Roly Poly Doll’s Head
Don’t look at me like that.
There’s only so much heart to go around.
You know this your heads so round.
The doll’s head made its way to the trash bin. The bodiless wonder no one wanted to take home. They’re adults, the janitor reasoned. Besides, they have computers to sit in front of, day in and day out; families at home, children of their own who have dolls with limbs.
The janitor combed and washed the doll’s hair with baby shampoo, the same way he did for his daughter as a toddler before she turned away.
He placed the cleaned doll’s head on a dumpster and watched whoever passed it. People dressed in business attire headed to the parking garage couldn’t pass the doll’s head fast enough. Their faces held looks of dismay. Some blushed, perhaps reminded of their own dolls.
The artsy women, who likely worked in the graphics departments of companies in the business complex, stopped for moments at a time and often altered the doll’s appearance. They adjusted the doll’s red hair, added a hair tie; blue eye shadow across her eyelids; candy apple red, cinnamon, orange lipstick to her lips and cheeks.
The woman scientist in the white lab coat touched the doll’s cheeks and her own wrist at the vein as if comparing the real and the imagined pulse beat. She held the doll to her chest, sobbed a bit, then sat the doll down and ran off into the office complex.
A man stopped by the doll and acted like she looked thirsty. He put droplets of water on her lips and sat ice cubes by her neck.
Other workers placed wilted flowers and clothes by her base; a daisy picked from the grass, a sprig of lavender, a palm frond, a lady’s green sock, a man’s boxers, thong underwear, a sweatshirt.
The clothes, the janitor started to cart away as his pager went off; the higher-ups called him to mop the parking garage and told him not to slack on the job. He took one last look at the doll, wiped the tears from his eyes and vowed to try harder to find his lost daughter.