SARALINDA - PART 8

11:14 p.m.

Keith finally excuses himself to go and get Allura’s gift. And right when Lisa is about to discover that Scott, the man donating his kidney to save her brother is actually their real father because they were both switched at birth by Marcus VanDolan, their father’s evil corporate rival, during a kidnapping scheme to force Scott to sell his holdings in a corporate takeover. Darn it, I’m gonna miss the good part.

I ask Sven to keep track of which disk is playing so I can pick up where the story left off. He nods and I follow Keith through the door.

There’s something very different about the Captain, it seems. He not only let Allura cry on his shoulder during the mushy parts, he actually draped his arm around her to comfort her. He’s never, ever been that open with his feelings toward her before. I suppose it could be blamed on the soaps, but I think I know better.

The storefront is unlit when we arrive, but there’s a light on inside the building. A scribbled note is taped on the window: ‘Please use rear entrance’. We walk around and buzz the doorbell. There’s a brief bit of moving around behind the door, then it opens. Mrs. Goldham smiles at us and steps aside to let us in. We step into a crowded room filled with toy-laden shelves and tables covered with more toys in various states of repair. One table has been cleared off and has wrapping paper, bows, tape and a box with layers of tissue paper lying in it.

“Wait here a moment,” she says and ducks through a side door. She reemerges with a cleaned-up Saralinda in her hands. She looks even better with her hair washed and tied up in fresh, mint green bows. Her features are sharp and clear, her dress freshly pressed to perfection. Her little patent-leather slippers shine in the lamplight.

“Here she is, all ready to be presented to the Princess.” The woman beams with pride. “Isn’t she a lovely little thing.”

“Yes, she is,” Keith replies. “Do you think you could wrap her up for me?”

“Oh yes, the gift box is all ready.” She points to the table. “I just wanted you to see her and give your approval before I put her in.”

Keith flicks playfully at one of her bouncy ponytails with a finger. “She looks just fine, Ma’am.”

“All right, then.” She carries the doll over to the box and places it inside, folding the tissue paper over as if tucking a child into bed. “I had a little time to do some research on this doll while waiting for the paint to dry. She has quite an amazing history.”

“Really?” Keith asks.

“Yes. Of all the dolls Kerr Delgado designed and sold, he never parted with this one. It was put up for auction by his estate after he died and the earnings donated to charity, according to his will.”

“Why was that?”

She puts the lid on the box and tapes it shut. “Well, Mister Delgado was a toymaker pressed into service during The War of Lions, before King Alfor’s father Xanlon III united the planet under a single ruler. Delgado served the noble house of Bensarret, rivals to Xanlon determined to seize the throne. He began to make a name for himself among his peers, and was promoted to the rank of Major in less than three years.

“During an assignment to press into Xanlon’s territory to cut a vital supply line, Major Delgado was ambushed and his contingent reduced to himself alone. He was chased nearly all the way back to the border where he managed to evade his persuers just short of it, but he was severely wounded. He happened upon a tiny refugee camp and threw away his jacket and shirt to avoid being recognized. He begged assistance, was taken to the medical tent and a doctor began to see to his wounds.

“In that tent was also a little girl, all of four years old. She had been wounded by shrapnel, and her little arms were wrapped in bandages. She sat silently in her bed, watching the people all around her with eyes that had seen too much of the horrors of war. Delgado found himself drawn to her, and asked the doctor who she was. He was told that her name was Saralinda and that she was an orphan, her parents killed during a raid that Delgado himself had initialized. He felt a twinge of remorse, and asked if he could talk to the little girl. The doctor replied that he could try, but she hadn’t spoken a single word since she’d been brought to the camp. Delgado tried anyway, and she didn’t respond to him. He made several attempts every day.

“Partway through his convalescence he took some scraps of fabric, a needle and thread, and he sewed a small doll for the little girl. He brought it to her and offered it as a gift. She took it from him, but said nothing. Eventually she healed, and was able to wander around the camp. She carried the doll with her everywhere she went.

“Delgado also healed, and prepared to go his own way. As he reached the edge of the camp, he heard a noise behind him and turned to see the little girl standing at the gate to the camp, the doll in her hands. She smiled, waved at him and said, ‘Goodbye.’ He responded in kind and hurried off. Not long after that he was found by a special team sent to locate him and his men. He was escorted safely back to his home base.

“A month or so later, word reached him that a refugee camp near the border had been wiped out because it was suspected the troops that attacked his men had been harbored there. He remembered Saralinda, and it broke his heart. He renounced his Duke and deserted his post that same day, turning himself over to Xanlon’s forces. His input helped turn the tide of the war. He was granted citizenship for his efforts, but he spent his days in seclusion, never venturing far from his new home. After a few years he eventually decided to make toys again, and built up a thriving business.

“Saralinda was the very first doll he ever made, which is why her eyes were painted on instead of using the usual inserts. He hadn’t developed his molding technique yet. She was entirely sculpted by hand, and considered to be one of his finest works. Her smile is believed to be the same expression he saw on her face when she said goodbye to him.

“And as I mentioned before, he never sold this doll. She had a special little chair on a shelf that overlooked his workshop, and no one else was allowed to touch her, not even to dust her off. He alone performed the task, and he was often heard to be apologizing to her as he did so. When she came up for auction after he died, she was purchased by a private collector who kept her for years until she was finally sold to the Duke of Jenharsa.”

“The man who gave her to Princess Allura as a birthday gift,” I say aloud.

“Yes, that’s right.” She finishes wrapping the package and hands it to Keith. He accepts it with something much like reverence.

“Definitely a very special little doll,” he says.

“Most certainly. Perhaps you’ll have an opportunity to tell the story to Her Highness. She might not know the history behind it.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Keith replies. “And what do I owe you?”

She makes a dismissing wave with her hand. “I’ve closed down the register for the evening. I’ll send a bill to the castle, if that’s all right with you.”

“That’s fine.”

She gives us a cheery wave as we leave.

“That was an amazing story, Keith,” I say to him as we emerge out of the alley. “I wonder how much of it is true, and how much is legend.”

“I dunno, Lance. But Delgado was a real person in Arusian military history and he really did make toys. In fact, he was nicknamed the ‘Toy Soldier’ because of it.”

“Yeah, but the whole thing about the orphan and the camp being wiped out - seems like she was laying it on pretty thick. I don’t think she was doing it herself, just repeating the story as she heard it.”

“You’ve seen the doll, Lance. What do you think?”

“I dunno. Maybe I’m just hoping that there wasn’t a little girl who had such a short, tragic life. It’s unfair, it’s cruel, it’s -”

I look across the roof of the car and take notice of the digital display on the building across the street.

“- eleven forty.”

“What?” Keith snaps his head around to look, then he blinks at me.

“Twenty minutes...I’ve got twenty minutes to get back to the castle, navigate the halls to the sitting room and give Saralinda to Allura so I can kiss her.”

“Not a problem, Cap’n. Gimme the keys.”

He tosses them over the roof at me and we run around the car to switch places. I yank the door shut and stick the key in the ignition.

“It’s one hundred and sixty miles to Chicago,” I say as I grip the steering wheel. “We’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses.”

Keith smirks a little. “Hit it.”

I behave myself until we reach the highway exit. There I leadfoot the gas and we’re off.

To Saralinda: Part 7

To Saralinda: Part 9