OLLIE’S STORY

JULS

“Let’s play a game,” Julia said.

The kids were sprawled on the floor as flotsam washed ashore by the riptide. The air was thick and heavy, dust motes swimming through it like overcooked pasta.

“What game?” Emma asked, her face flushed a beet-red.

“Hide-and-seek!” Ella shouted, dislodging a drop of sweat from the tip of her nose. Before Julia could reply, the twins jumped to their feet and scuttled away, stubby legs pumping at the rhythm of their giggles.

“Guess I’ll be the seeker,” Julia called after them. “Again,” she sighed wearily, closing her eyes and starting to count.

“…ninety-nine, one hundred. Ready or not, here I come,” Julia’s voice rang loudly in the deserted charity shop. She spun around slowly, her delicate frame slightly coiled as if readying for a pounce. The place was huge, cabinets upon cabinets brimming with neglected treasures and overrated junk. Julia took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the familiar scent – an odd blend of beeswax, mothballs, and aged paper – bittersweet on her tongue. Her head turned sharply at a rustling noise on her right, as a nest of curly hair ducked behind a chest. Julia’s tread was light, the balls of her feet softly touching the ground, as she crept closer, closer…Got you! As her fingers brushed against fabric, a piercing scream cut through the air. Emma!

Julia pivoted around, heart pounding against her ribs as she hurried to her sister. Emma must have lost her balance somehow and landed hard on her bottom, legs akimbo, all snotty tears and bawling sobs. The laughter bubbling in Julia’s throat choked into a snort as she looked at Ella. The girl had come out from her hiding spot and was now standing next to her twin, face pale and mouth working as if she were a fish out of water. Julia followed her gaze down to a cardboard box, barely held together by pieces of duct tape. Inside was the usual bric-a-brac one could expect to find at the back of the charity shop: dog-eared magazines, faded photographs, and what might have once been a soft toy…or a stuffed animal. And a mangy one at that, she thought, wrinkling her nose.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the girls, but none of them showed signs of having heard her.

“El, what…” Julia raised her voice over Emma’s sniffles, just as Ella clamped a sweaty palm over her twin’s mouth, her wide eyes meeting Julia’s.

“Shhh, look! It’s moving!” the girl said in a loud whisper.

Julia frowned in irritation. “What’s moving? What are you talking about?” she said in her big-sister tone.

“That-thing,” Ella mouthed, punctuating each word with a jab of her finger towards the open box.

Julia was about to give her sister a piece of her mind (The twins and their shenanigans!) when something stirred just outside her vision. Her eyes shifted back to the box, drawn like iron filings to a magnet, and she blinked rapidly. Once, twice. Nothing. She must have imagined it. No, here it is! The stuffed toy – A teddy bear? – jerked, mouth and eyelids jarringly opening and closing. Julia’s scream caught in her throat, and before she could let it out, her ears caught the sound of footsteps approaching from the front of the shop.

“Hey, what’s all that racket? What are you up to back there?”

The girls stared at one another in horror, their mother’s wrath far more terrifying that any moving plushies. Emma sprang up, surreptitiously wiping her runny nose on the hem of her shirt, leaving a slimy smear across the fabric. Julia turned, bracing herself.

“There you are,” Mum said, hands on hips. “All good here?” Her tone was casual, but Julia was wise enough to know better. Mum broke no ruckus in her shop.

“We were just playing hide-and-seek, Mummy,” Ella piped up in her sweetest voice. “Em tripped, but she’s fine. Aren’t you, Em?” she added, her pointy elbow nudging her twin for good measure.

“Yes, Mummy, it was just a tumble!” Emma nodded, rubbing her backside ruefully.

Mum’s eyes landed on the snot streak on Emma’s shirt, and her lips were just beginning to tighten in disapproval (Oh, oh) when she noticed the box behind Julia. “A Teddy Ruxpin!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight as her scowl gave way to a bright smile. “It’s been ages since I last saw one!” She snaked around Julia and, picking up the stuffed toy, she cradled it lovingly against her chest. “You know,” she said, turning to look at her daughters, “this was every kid’s dream back in the 80s. When I was your age,” she continued, speaking to the twins, “I constantly nagged Nana for one, but she never gave in. ‘It costs too much, Sophie.’” She let out a longing sigh before pulling herself back to reality. “Enough of me babbling. Let’s see if I still remember how it works,” she said, turning the toy upside down and lifting its vest to reveal a compartment.

“What’s that?” Ella asked, her mouth forming a perfect “o”.

“It’s a tape player,” Mum replied. “You plug your cartridge there,” she pointed to a slot in the centre of the plastic panel, “then you click this here to start playing the recording,” she tapped on the round button on the left, “this one to stop it,” her finger moved to the rectangular button in the middle, “and this one to skip forward,” she concluded, pointing to the triangular button on the right. “Each cartridge holds a story, and when you hit play, Teddy Ruxpin starts moving its eyes and mouth as if it were the one telling it. It may not seem much now, girls, but it was quite impressive back then!” she said, eyes gleaming. “There should be a cartridge in there.”

Julia watched in fascination as her mum dropped to her knees and began digging through the box, moving things around unceremoniously. “It has to be in this mess somewhere!” she mumbled, “Aha, found it!” she cried, pulling out a tape and triumphantly thrusting it above her head. “‘Ollie’s Story: The Bear (1986),’” she read aloud, examining the handwritten label. “Never heard of it,” she stated, brow furrowing. “Not that it means much, to be honest,” she added with a shrug. “Time to go home, sweeties. Let’s take this box with us, in case we find more tapes,” Mum said, handing the toy to Ella and lifting the box, its poorly glued corners at risk of giving way at any second. “I’m on shift at the pub tonight, but Mildred will pop over after dinner to keep an eye on you, so please try to behave,” she half-pleaded, half-commanded as she wobbled towards the shop’s entrance.

“Yes, Mummy,” the girls swore in unison as they followed her to the bus stop.

OLLIE

It’s sweltering in this dark inferno. Whispers taunt me, telling me things I cannot fully grasp. Where am I? I will my eyes to open, but it’s just a thought, nothing happens. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I feel oddly detached, as though my mind and body are operating on different planes of existence. Where am I? Muted noises, bursts of greys, darkness again. I sense a rocking motion, but it’s difficult to say if it’s me or the world that is moving. Where am I? I’m falling now, or maybe I’m soaring, high, high, high to hell or maybe low to heaven.

A glowing halo strikes my eyes. Brightness blinds just as darkness does. Who knew? I would laugh had I not forgotten how. Who am I?

“Juls, I want to watch Teddy speak! Can we play the tape now, please, please, pleeease?” A shrill noise (a child’s voice) penetrates my eardrums. Dim silhouettes start to emerge from the light. A round face, another. The same full cheeks and button-like noses peppered with freckles. I’m hallucinating. Two identical pairs of eyes meet my gaze. Before I can make sense of what I’m seeing, my vision swirls and I find myself upside down, something hard pressing against my back, forcing into me. I’m being stabbed! But there’s no pain, no blood, just a curious sense of…fullness. A click echoes, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed by memories, a life lived or perhaps yet to be.

“‘Ollie’s Story,’ a different voice, its tone somewhat deeper, comes from behind me. “I wonder who this Ollie is.”

“It’s me,” I say. “I’m Ollie.”

JULS

Julia nearly let go of the toy when it began to talk. Did it just answer my question? She immediately pushed the rectangular button to stop the recording.

“Juls, why did you turn it off?” Emma whined. “We want to hear the story,” Ella added, stomping her little foot on the ground, her act of defiance somewhat undermined by the soft thud of her unicorn-shaped slippers.

“I…um,” Julia stammered, floundering for words, before blurting, “Mildred will be here any second. We must clean up this mess,” she made a sweeping motion to the items from the box that were now spread out on the carpet, “or she’ll have a fit.” As she laid the teddy bear on its side to tidy up, she noticed the toy’s eyes following her. She squeaked in surprise.

“Hey kid, mind helping me up? Can’t see anything from down here.”

Julia stared at the stuffed toy in horror, as the twins’ eyes widened like tea saucers in their round faces. Ella was the first to recover.

“Juls, how is it that Teddy is still speaking? Didn’t you pull out the tape?” When her sister didn’t answer her, she cast a quick glance at her Emma, and at her nod of encouragement, she turned to the toy. “Are you…alive?”

OLLIE

“Are you…alive?” The girl’s question reels me. Am I alive? I don’t know.

“Don’t be daft,” I snap, “course I am.”

I immediately regret my curtness, but these kids put me on edge. They are weird. A total freak show, the three of them. I’ve never come across children so big. Only that one makes five of me!

“Hey, no need to be rude!” interjects the taller one. Juls, the clones called her. A short name for sure, but for what? Jewel? Juliet?

“Julia,” a woman’s voice rings from somewhere outside the room.

Ah, Julia.

“It’s Mildred,” the other clone whispers, in a flustered tone. “What do we do with…it?” she adds, pointing her stubby toes towards me.

“I’m not a thing, you little scamp, my name’s Ollie!” I shout, or at least I try – my voice is strangely tinny.

“Okay, okay,” the one named Julia says soothingly as she picks me from the floor. Finally, the world has been straightened back. “Now, be quiet, Ollie, please,” she murmurs, taking me with her out of the bedroom and into the corridor leading to the kitchen.

I catch sight of a of a stout middle-aged woman as she thrusts her head into the freezer, her large hips swaying side to side like those of a giant cat. “I’m sure I saw a tub of ice-cream last time…” I hear her muttering.

“Hi, Mildred,” Julia greets, and the woman straightens with enviable speed, pivoting on the balls of her feet like an oversized ballerina, hands dramatically flapping to her chest.

“Juls, you scared me,” she bleats, before plunging back into the freezer. “I bet you girls are dying for a dollop, aren’t you?”

Crushed against Julia’s thin frame, I can’t make out her expression, but from the slight tremors passing through her, she must be chuckling. “I’ll go get the twins, Mildred. Back in a few,” she says softly, heading back to the bedroom.

The girls (twins, not clones, after all.) stand like a lone isle amidst the sea of junk scattered from the box, their curly heads close together as they hunch over a discoloured photo. It is the one on the left who turns first, snatching the picture from her sister’s grasp and running up to us.

“Juls, look, look, Teddy’s here!” she chirps, almost bouncing.

Julia hoists me on her bony hip, and stretching out her hand to take the photo, she holds it up high enough for me to see. It’s an old instant camera shot, its original colours blurred into a collage of orange, pink, and yellow hues. Staring out of the frame are a young woman and a boy, stiffly standing side by side in front of a Regency-style home. The text below states: “Victoria House – Edith & Oliver, 1986.”

“You see,” the girl says, tapping her finger to the photo, “here’s Teddy.” She then shifts her gaze at me and smiles shyly, revealing a tooth gap, before adding, “That’s you!”

I force my eyes to move away from the black hole in her front teeth, down her slender arm, along her hand, to the boy in the photo. Oliver. Me! It takes me a moment to realise that the little imp’s finger is not actually on him (me), but on Finn Fluff. My Teddy Ruxpin!

“That’s Finn Fluff, you silly goose! I’m Ollie, Oliver…The boy!” I shout, frustrated by her vacant expression.

The girl’s jaw drops. “But you’re a plush toy, Teddy…you know,” she murmurs, taking hold of my leg and lifting it gently, “you’re filled with stuffing and plastic, not made of bones and flesh!”

I stare in horror at the stuffed appendage in front of my eyes (my leg. God, is that my leg?), and something shatters within me. I feel like screaming, but what comes out instead is a story, the one about me and the bear Didi gifted me for my eighth birthday, the summer when everything ended. I speak for hours (or is it just a moment?) but now that the end is near, I sense myself fading into nothingness. The tale’s done, and I with it.

JULS

Julia lay still, listening to the twins snoring softly beside her. It was late, that much she knew. How long had she been awake? A few hours, possibly. Certainly ever since Teddy (Ollie.) stopped talking. She had no idea what happened. One moment the toy was chatting away, the next it dropped silent, as the cartridge on its back ejected from its slot and disintegrated into dust.

She heard muffled voices coming from the front of the house. Mum’s shift must have ended earlier than usual. Julia untangled herself from Emma’s embrace and padded softly towards the kitchen. The door was ajar, and she could make out Mum and Mildred’s silhouettes, as they sat at the table, a cup of tea in front of them.

“…died last week,” Mum was saying. “I didn’t know she was in hospice. And now her house is on sale for a pittance. They dropped a van full of boxes at the shop just today. I wonder who’ll take it…That place gives me the chills, I swear.”

“Um, yes, Victoria House's not at its best now, I agree. But it wasn’t always like that, you know. I remember when the Ainsworths first moved in back in the late 70s - they were the talk of the town! They are, or rather were, landed gentry, but the old Lord Ainsworth ran into some financial troubles after the war, and they never completely bounced back. His son Edmund sold the estate and moved with wife and children to family's townhouse in the late 1970s. His youngest son, Oliver, was just a baby at that time. Edmund already had a girl of thirteen, Edith. A slip of a girl, she didn’t look more than ten!” Mildred chuckled. “Poor kids,” she added, pouting lips drooping in sorrow, “they were not blessed with an easy life.”

“Meaning?” Mum asked, intrigued.

“There was an accident, you see, back in 1986. Oliver had just turned eight, and Edith had planned to take him to a nearby fair, but they never got there. They were taken on the way, and it was only three weeks later that they were freed. The whole town went into a frenzy, you can imagine. Police and dogs everywhere, paparazzi lurking in every shadow. It was a nightmare. They tried to keep it hush-hush, but word was that Edmund paid a ransom to have them back. Anyway, their family never recovered. The Ainsworth children were homeschooled, you know, but Edmund quickly packed Oliver off to boarding school. As for his sister, she never left the house. Never worked or married. Octavia passed away a few years after the incident, and Edith and Edmund ended up living together up to his death in 2003. She had spent the last twenty years living by herself in that big house for the following twenty years, before her illness forced her to the hospice.”

“And what about his brother? Oliver, is it? Did he never come back?” Mum prodded.

“No, no one’s ever seen hide or hair of him. Last I heard, he renounced his father’s name. That’s why Victoria House was bequeathed to a second cousin,” Mildred stated, before whispering in a conspiratorial tone, “you see, there were speculations that Edmund was responsible for the kidnapping. Apparently, he had fallen out with the wrong types of people, if you catch my drift…the talk at the time was of gambling debts. Anyway,” she sighed, pulling herself up, “that’s just hearsay. What’s certain is that Edith was never the same after that. Something must have happened to her and the boy in those three weeks. They were as thick as thieves. Why would he forsake her when she needed him the most?”

Yes, why indeed, Julia wondered, clutching the tape she discovered at the bottom of the box: ‘Ollie’s Story: The Fair that Wasn’t (1986).’ I’m not done hearing your tale, Ollie, she thought, and neither are you.

She silently made her way back to the bedroom, and to the teddy bear who was a boy.