The Christmas Doll
By
Michael Infinito
Tom Billings wrapped a fragile porcelain doll with tissue paper and put it into
his leather briefcase. Then he gathered up the rest of his belongings and
checked out of the hotel. He had been away on business quite often the
past year, missing most of the major holidays with his wife, Liz, and their six
year old daughter, Lisa. Thankfully, he would be home in plenty of time
to spend Christmas with his family.
In a phone conversation, Little Lisa had told him she wanted a pretty doll for Christmas. Tom felt so guilty for being away that he spent an entire night scouring Washington DC for just the right one. What he found wasn’t something she could play with like one of those plastic toys, but instead a work of art that could be cherished forever. Although it cost a small fortune, money proved no object when it came to pleasing Lisa.
Tom hailed a cab and then made his way to Union Station. Not a big fan of flying, he opted for rail travel whenever an opportunity arose. Sure, the earth-bound route added a substantial amount of transit time between DC and Chicago, but spacious seating and the car’s relaxing rocking motion made for a therapeutic ride—something desperately needed after a stressful conference.
Carrying one large piece of luggage and a briefcase, he arrived at the station just in time to catch his train. Before he could board, a security officer approached.
“We need to check your luggage, Sir,” the stern looking official stated.
Tom rolled his eyes. “The guy in front of me had two briefcases and no luggage…and I’m the suspicious one?” he asked, sarcastically. “You guys check so few people that it’s really just grasping at straws. If someone wanted to bring a bomb into DC, the train would be the way to do it. I went from Rocky Mount to here a few weeks back and not one person got inspected. Now I’m running late, so you’re gonna pick on me?”
“Please open your bags, sir, or you’ll be detained.”
Tom gave in. Normally, he didn’t mind security inspections, but he hated the idea of clumsy strangers handling Lisa’s special gift. He opened his suitcase, at which time the security officer carelessly rummaged through its contents.
In a phone conversation, Little Lisa had told him she wanted a pretty doll for Christmas. Tom felt so guilty for being away that he spent an entire night scouring Washington DC for just the right one. What he found wasn’t something she could play with like one of those plastic toys, but instead a work of art that could be cherished forever. Although it cost a small fortune, money proved no object when it came to pleasing Lisa.
Tom hailed a cab and then made his way to Union Station. Not a big fan of flying, he opted for rail travel whenever an opportunity arose. Sure, the earth-bound route added a substantial amount of transit time between DC and Chicago, but spacious seating and the car’s relaxing rocking motion made for a therapeutic ride—something desperately needed after a stressful conference.
Carrying one large piece of luggage and a briefcase, he arrived at the station just in time to catch his train. Before he could board, a security officer approached.
“We need to check your luggage, Sir,” the stern looking official stated.
Tom rolled his eyes. “The guy in front of me had two briefcases and no luggage…and I’m the suspicious one?” he asked, sarcastically. “You guys check so few people that it’s really just grasping at straws. If someone wanted to bring a bomb into DC, the train would be the way to do it. I went from Rocky Mount to here a few weeks back and not one person got inspected. Now I’m running late, so you’re gonna pick on me?”
“Please open your bags, sir, or you’ll be detained.”
Tom gave in. Normally, he didn’t mind security inspections, but he hated the idea of clumsy strangers handling Lisa’s special gift. He opened his suitcase, at which time the security officer carelessly rummaged through its contents.
“This one looks good. Now the briefcase, please.”
Tom reluctantly followed his instruction. He flipped the briefcase latches and
eased it open.
“What’s inside the tissue paper?” the officer asked.
“It’s a doll for my daughter, please be careful. It means everything to her.”
The man peeled the tissue away, exposing a rosy-cheeked, blonde doll with blue eyes. After a brief moment, he returned the paper and closed the case. “Have a Merry Christmas, sir,” he said with a smile. “I’m sure your girl will be very happy.”
“Thank you. You do the same.” Tom boarded the train. He found his assigned seat and ended up next to the man who had been in line in front of him—the one with two briefcases.
“Tough luck, huh?” he asked Tom.
“Yeah, like a middle aged business man is gonna be an international terrorist or something. The whole thing is ridiculous if you ask me.”
“Well, at least train security is easier than that airport shit. I can actually bring a regular bottle of shampoo along. Plus, they don’t check everyone all the time.”
“Yea, I guess you’re right.” Tom didn’t really feel like conversing with the stranger.
After a few minutes the train started rolling. Tom propped a pillow up against the window and nestled his head deep into it, hoping for a peaceful sleep. The man next to him put a briefcase on his lap. Tom dreaded the thought of having to deal with a computer geek for fifteen hours, so he just closed his eyes and sighed.
As he drifted off, the man next to him said something about seeking vengeance. That was the last thing that Tom Billings heard before the passenger train bound for Chicago exploded into a fireball of twisted metal and burnt bodies. With the exception of 9/11, it ranked as one of the worst terrorist acts ever perpetrated on American soil. Tom and everything he possessed were instantly incinerated. His Christmas trip home ended within sight of Union Station.
“It’s a doll for my daughter, please be careful. It means everything to her.”
The man peeled the tissue away, exposing a rosy-cheeked, blonde doll with blue eyes. After a brief moment, he returned the paper and closed the case. “Have a Merry Christmas, sir,” he said with a smile. “I’m sure your girl will be very happy.”
“Thank you. You do the same.” Tom boarded the train. He found his assigned seat and ended up next to the man who had been in line in front of him—the one with two briefcases.
“Tough luck, huh?” he asked Tom.
“Yeah, like a middle aged business man is gonna be an international terrorist or something. The whole thing is ridiculous if you ask me.”
“Well, at least train security is easier than that airport shit. I can actually bring a regular bottle of shampoo along. Plus, they don’t check everyone all the time.”
“Yea, I guess you’re right.” Tom didn’t really feel like conversing with the stranger.
After a few minutes the train started rolling. Tom propped a pillow up against the window and nestled his head deep into it, hoping for a peaceful sleep. The man next to him put a briefcase on his lap. Tom dreaded the thought of having to deal with a computer geek for fifteen hours, so he just closed his eyes and sighed.
As he drifted off, the man next to him said something about seeking vengeance. That was the last thing that Tom Billings heard before the passenger train bound for Chicago exploded into a fireball of twisted metal and burnt bodies. With the exception of 9/11, it ranked as one of the worst terrorist acts ever perpetrated on American soil. Tom and everything he possessed were instantly incinerated. His Christmas trip home ended within sight of Union Station.
****
Liz Billings had been watching TV when news report of a terrorist attack broke. She always worried about her husband because of how much he traveled, but she took solace in the fact that security provisions were more stringent than ever before. Viewing the televised fireball, she felt a sudden chill creep down her back. Liz immediately dialed Tom’s cell phone number. The call went straight to voicemail. His phone rarely did that, so she panicked and kept dialing repeatedly, coming away with the same result every time.
Liz rummaged through a stack of papers in search of Tom’s travel information. She knew his arrival time but couldn't remember the train’s number. In a matter of seconds she located his itinerary, and that’s when her world came crashing down. The number on the paper read 705, the same number that scrolled across her TV screen. Liz fell to her knees in the kitchen and screamed hysterically. Lisa rushed in from her playroom.
“Mommy, what’s the matter?” she cried, scared by the sound of Liz’s shriek.
At first Liz couldn’t get a single word out. She grabbed Lisa and drew her close, almost crushing her in a vise-like embrace. “O…oh…Li…s…a, Daddy’s d…d…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“Daddy’s coming home tomorrow with a doll for me, Mommy.” Lisa wiped her own tears away. “He says it’s made of glass.”
Liz just continued her emotional display, further confusing the little girl. After an hour of sorrowful tears, she released her daughter and began making phone calls. She needed confirmation of what her torn heart already knew.
In the remaining days leading up to Christmas, Liz Billings had to bury her husband, and also tell poor Lisa that her daddy would never come home again. It was a terrible memory for a young child to have on such a wonderful holiday.
On December twenty-fourth, Liz sat in her quiet den, just trying to come to grips with all that had happened. Lisa, who’d been off playing, entered the room. She climbed up on the chair and put her head on Liz’s shoulder.
“Mommy is Santa still coming this year?” she asked.
“Oh Lisa baby, of course Santa’s coming. He wouldn’t miss your house,” Liz hugged the worried child.
“If I ask Santa to bring Daddy home, can he do it?”
“Honey, Santa brings gifts and toys. He can’t bring a person home.”
Lisa looked dejected, but not grief-stricken. She obviously didn’t yet fully grasp the concept of death.
“Will he bring me a glass doll, then?”
Liz hadn’t done any Christmas shopping in the wake of the tragedy, but she had bought quite a few gifts right after Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, there were no dolls amongst the items, and it was way too late to find a sitter so she could make a last minute purchase. “I don’t think Santa can bring you a glass doll tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure he’ll give me the power to get you one the day after. Is that okay, sweetie?”
“I guess,” Lisa answered with a pouty face.
“I’m so sorry.” Liz’s tears resumed.
“Mommy, you cry too much. I hate it when you’re sad.”
“I know. I’ll try not to do it so often. I just miss your Daddy.”
“Me too, Mommy.”
They both stayed on the couch for a little while until Lisa eventually fell asleep. Liz gently put her in bed. Then she pulled her daughter’s gifts out of the locked storage closet and arranged them under a sparsely decorated tree. Seeing the presents she had purchased for Tom caused so much pain. She almost couldn’t bear sorting through everything, but she did it for Lisa’s sake. In the end, after the emotional task had been completed, Liz took a sedative and dozed off.
Morning came and Lisa woke up first, just as all children seem to do on Christmas morning. She ran into her sleeping mother’s room.
“Santa came, Mommy. Santa came!” she shrieked.
Liz rolled out of bed. Lisa grabbed her hand and guided her into the living room. Upon first glance, Liz thought something seemed different than it had the night before. The gifts were not set up the same way she had arranged them.
“Did you move any presents, Lisa?” she asked.
“No Mommy, honest I didn’t.”
Liz stared at the gifts and noticed something else unusual—an unwrapped package in the midst of all the decorative boxes. She moved everything out of the way and gasped at what she found. Tom’s briefcase, the one he always carried with him on trips, sat in the back, a shiny gold bow stuck to its worn out brown leather.
“Can I open it, Mommy, please?” Lisa asked.
Liz had no idea what to say. The whole thing seemed impossible. Perplexed by the situation, she finally decided to let her impatient child investigate. Lisa popped two latches and the case flipped open. Liz’s jaw dropped as her daughter reached inside and removed something wrapped in tissue paper—a beautiful porcelain doll, just like the one Tom had promised to bring home. Liz’s tears flowed once again, this time for different reasons.
“Santa did bring my doll,” Lisa Shrieked, “I just wish he could’ve brought Daddy home, too.”
Liz smiled for the first time in weeks as she grabbed hold of Lisa and held her tight. “I was wrong about Santa, Sweetie. He did bring Daddy home last night, but not to this house. He stopped by here on his way home to God. It was Santa’s way of letting us know everything’s okay with him and for us not to worry. We’ll all go to God’s house someday and you’ll see Daddy then, I promise.”
Those words made the little girl smile.
“Merry Christmas, Mommy,” Lisa said as she stared at the pretty porcelain doll.
“Merry Christmas, Baby, I love you.” Liz looked skyward “And Merry Christmas to you, Tom. You'll always be my special gift.”
Liz Billings had been watching TV when news report of a terrorist attack broke. She always worried about her husband because of how much he traveled, but she took solace in the fact that security provisions were more stringent than ever before. Viewing the televised fireball, she felt a sudden chill creep down her back. Liz immediately dialed Tom’s cell phone number. The call went straight to voicemail. His phone rarely did that, so she panicked and kept dialing repeatedly, coming away with the same result every time.
Liz rummaged through a stack of papers in search of Tom’s travel information. She knew his arrival time but couldn't remember the train’s number. In a matter of seconds she located his itinerary, and that’s when her world came crashing down. The number on the paper read 705, the same number that scrolled across her TV screen. Liz fell to her knees in the kitchen and screamed hysterically. Lisa rushed in from her playroom.
“Mommy, what’s the matter?” she cried, scared by the sound of Liz’s shriek.
At first Liz couldn’t get a single word out. She grabbed Lisa and drew her close, almost crushing her in a vise-like embrace. “O…oh…Li…s…a, Daddy’s d…d…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“Daddy’s coming home tomorrow with a doll for me, Mommy.” Lisa wiped her own tears away. “He says it’s made of glass.”
Liz just continued her emotional display, further confusing the little girl. After an hour of sorrowful tears, she released her daughter and began making phone calls. She needed confirmation of what her torn heart already knew.
In the remaining days leading up to Christmas, Liz Billings had to bury her husband, and also tell poor Lisa that her daddy would never come home again. It was a terrible memory for a young child to have on such a wonderful holiday.
On December twenty-fourth, Liz sat in her quiet den, just trying to come to grips with all that had happened. Lisa, who’d been off playing, entered the room. She climbed up on the chair and put her head on Liz’s shoulder.
“Mommy is Santa still coming this year?” she asked.
“Oh Lisa baby, of course Santa’s coming. He wouldn’t miss your house,” Liz hugged the worried child.
“If I ask Santa to bring Daddy home, can he do it?”
“Honey, Santa brings gifts and toys. He can’t bring a person home.”
Lisa looked dejected, but not grief-stricken. She obviously didn’t yet fully grasp the concept of death.
“Will he bring me a glass doll, then?”
Liz hadn’t done any Christmas shopping in the wake of the tragedy, but she had bought quite a few gifts right after Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, there were no dolls amongst the items, and it was way too late to find a sitter so she could make a last minute purchase. “I don’t think Santa can bring you a glass doll tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure he’ll give me the power to get you one the day after. Is that okay, sweetie?”
“I guess,” Lisa answered with a pouty face.
“I’m so sorry.” Liz’s tears resumed.
“Mommy, you cry too much. I hate it when you’re sad.”
“I know. I’ll try not to do it so often. I just miss your Daddy.”
“Me too, Mommy.”
They both stayed on the couch for a little while until Lisa eventually fell asleep. Liz gently put her in bed. Then she pulled her daughter’s gifts out of the locked storage closet and arranged them under a sparsely decorated tree. Seeing the presents she had purchased for Tom caused so much pain. She almost couldn’t bear sorting through everything, but she did it for Lisa’s sake. In the end, after the emotional task had been completed, Liz took a sedative and dozed off.
Morning came and Lisa woke up first, just as all children seem to do on Christmas morning. She ran into her sleeping mother’s room.
“Santa came, Mommy. Santa came!” she shrieked.
Liz rolled out of bed. Lisa grabbed her hand and guided her into the living room. Upon first glance, Liz thought something seemed different than it had the night before. The gifts were not set up the same way she had arranged them.
“Did you move any presents, Lisa?” she asked.
“No Mommy, honest I didn’t.”
Liz stared at the gifts and noticed something else unusual—an unwrapped package in the midst of all the decorative boxes. She moved everything out of the way and gasped at what she found. Tom’s briefcase, the one he always carried with him on trips, sat in the back, a shiny gold bow stuck to its worn out brown leather.
“Can I open it, Mommy, please?” Lisa asked.
Liz had no idea what to say. The whole thing seemed impossible. Perplexed by the situation, she finally decided to let her impatient child investigate. Lisa popped two latches and the case flipped open. Liz’s jaw dropped as her daughter reached inside and removed something wrapped in tissue paper—a beautiful porcelain doll, just like the one Tom had promised to bring home. Liz’s tears flowed once again, this time for different reasons.
“Santa did bring my doll,” Lisa Shrieked, “I just wish he could’ve brought Daddy home, too.”
Liz smiled for the first time in weeks as she grabbed hold of Lisa and held her tight. “I was wrong about Santa, Sweetie. He did bring Daddy home last night, but not to this house. He stopped by here on his way home to God. It was Santa’s way of letting us know everything’s okay with him and for us not to worry. We’ll all go to God’s house someday and you’ll see Daddy then, I promise.”
Those words made the little girl smile.
“Merry Christmas, Mommy,” Lisa said as she stared at the pretty porcelain doll.
“Merry Christmas, Baby, I love you.” Liz looked skyward “And Merry Christmas to you, Tom. You'll always be my special gift.”
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