By the time Cliff and Rebecca woke up the following morning, Eric was sleeping, or at least he was supposed to be sleeping. Cliff was actually a little bit scared that he might listen in on them from time to time. Rebecca was the one who figured out how they could express their incriminating thoughts. Eric had returned not only her toys, computer, and television, but also her cell phone. It had turned out to be a Wal-Mart phone she had purchased after running away from him. Rebecca decided that they should each keep their phones in silent mode and text each other.
"Best not to run away," Rebecca had texted.
"You're right. He'd find us anyway," Cliff typed out in response. Then his fingers tapped out another text. "I'm trying to wait for the right moment to deal with him."
They were the type of people who used properly spelled words and mostly accurate grammar when texting.
"I know," Rebecca texted. "And also, don't forget to delete your texts. He might figure out our passwords one day and look into our phones."
And ... to Cliff's irritation, they really did spend their day setting up Rebecca's ridiculous collection of Barbie sized buildings all around her bedroom. There was a commerce district, a school district, an urban residential district, a suburban district, and a god damn amusement park. They had to be careful about where they put their feet. What kept his attention, though, was Rebecca's commitment to the soap opera of a story she had set up for all the dolls. She even had a binder of notes to help her remember everything.
Cliff even had a favorite character. It was a male doll that Rebecca imagined was a teen named Arthur. Arthur lived in the suburban district with his single mother, Sherry. Arthur was very upset because some hotshot living in a penthouse would regularly come over to bang his mom.
Eventually, though, Cliff became bored of the melodrama, and he searched one of Rebecca's toy boxes for something with more testosterone. The scariest thing he found was a large goofy turtle made of soft cloth. He decided that the creature was large enough to be a monster, and so he attacked the houses and businesses with it, making undignified growls as he did so.
Rebecca started at him for a few seconds, lightly holding onto a doll, and she said to him with absolute gravity, "I don't think turtles growl like wolves." She then carefully stepped around her maze of dollhouses and dug through the contents of the toy box. When she was standing again, she had a huge toy bird with an endearing face. "You know this bird's going to kick that turtle's butt, right? He's the local Bird God. He's got to protect his people."
And so, the Turtle Monster and the Bird God duked it out while the innocent humans perished from the force of the battle. At the end of it all, Rebecca said, "You really stink at your job, Bird God." She tossed the big bird over her shoulder and stooped down to clean up the mess. "I think I'm tired of my Barbies now." Her fingers looped under the roof of a dollhouse. "Hey, are you hungry? There's a butt-ton of food in the fridge. Just don't eat anything with Eric's name on it without his permission. Oh!" She paused as an idea seemed to come to her. "Want to see the dolls first? You should at least see the dolls."
As they left the bedroom, Cliff met a maid. She had apparently let herself in. She said hello and starting cleaning. He also met a gardener after that. Both workers were eager to finish their job, and they were surprisingly easy to ignore. It seemed that Eric didn't want Baby Doll to have many chores, and Eric probably thought he was too high and mighty to do any work.
Rebecca showed Cliff the secret room of dolls. Strangely enough, Eric didn't keep that door locked. Maybe he felt he didn't have a reason to, since Rebecca loved the dolls, and Cliff wasn't in a position to judge. Most were Monster High dolls, but there were also Ever After High dolls, Barbies and similar dolls. The only reason Cliff knew what they were, though, was because Rebecca told him.
They had all been altered so well that they looked like museum pieces. They were all made to look very innocent and sweet with large, colorful eyes. Cliff had no idea how anyone could make a cheap kid's toy look so pretty, but Eric obviously did. Even a manly man full of manliness such as Cliff could admit that the dolls were precious and exquisitely altered. He kind of wanted one for himself, for the sake of displaying as a work of art.
Rebecca pointed at one very pretty doll with a pale body. It was a Monster High doll with typical huge eyes and plump, pouty lips. "That's the doll I caressed so long ago," she said.
Cliff peered at the little thing. It's plastic skin had a mild green tint to it. It's hair was mostly blonde with streaks of a darker green. Perfect little freckles were drawn on its triangular, broad little nose. There was barely any color on the lips; what color there was was mostly in the center, and it looked like a natural flush instead of makeup. Eric had somehow painted a little black opening with hints of white teeth peeking from under the upper lip. The doll looked like it was making an innocent expression, curious and full of wonder.
"She looks like she's been given a present," Cliff said, putting his fingertips on the glass shielding the little creation.
"I loved her so much," Rebecca admitted, sighing. There was a furrow of regret in her brow. "Eric named her Apple Louise. And yes, she has pubic hair. I remember."
Cliff almost wanted to see it.
Michael really, really wanted to see it.
Both personalities resisted the temptation. They were afraid of damaging something with their clumsy, unskilled fingers, and earning the wrath of artist.
Later, as they ate an easy lunch in the kitchen, Cliff realized something about Rebecca. He hadn't heard her use a single curse word since he arrived at this place. He had a feeling it was because of Eric. He didn't want to ask about it. He did text her a question, though, making sure that none of the servants were around to see. He even started a bland oral conversation with Rebecca so that they wouldn't be silent, because if they were silent all the time it might be suspicious. For all Cliff knew, the servants could have been asked by Eric to report anything odd.
"Did he really spank you?" Cliff texted.
"Yes," was the reply.
"Has he ever done that before?"
Rebecca sighed and looked away, her face reddening. "No," she texted. Her eyes grew especially shiny. "I distinctly remember telling him a long time ago that I don't ever want to be spanked."
Cliff found himself gripping the edge of the table they sat at. There was a formal dining room, but the kitchen was surprisingly cozier. "So that wasn't a fetish thing?"
Rebecca didn't text that time. She just shook her head.
