THE TEN TANDY SISTERS SPEAK
The death of the ninety-four-year-old doll maker, Juniper Tandy, caused a ripple of profound disturbance within the small village. She had passed away peacefully from the world while in her rocker; glasses still perched upon her nose, and a half glass of sherry on the delicate wooden table beside her. A book of poetry lay upside down upon the wooden floor. This was what she had been undoubtedly reading at the moment of her departure.
Generally speaking, one would not be stunned by the passing of a ninety-four-year-old, but Juniper was not a general kind of soul. She was one so ageless as to be practically immortal in the eyes of those who even peripherally knew her. She had no husband, no children. There were no pets, except for a pair of caged finches at the far end of the sitting room. To some, she seemed a lonely woman. To most, she was undoubtedly an eccentric one. The small community saw Juniper Tandy as a good luck charm of sorts. The simple fact of knowing she was in their midst offered the residents a deep sense of place.
Juniper had no quarrel with her life. Money had never been a complication, and her own company had never been a hardship. It was true; she had once upon a time dreamed of the tidy package of love, marriage and the re-creation of self. In fact, she had conquered two of those aspirations when she had fallen in love with and married a young man just before the onset of the Second World War.
But, like so many women during that time, her dreams had been shattered when a thin brown envelope conveying unfathomable news arrived. Her inner resolve became apparent during those first few sorrowful hours, as Juniper settled herself into the absoluteness that she would never re-marry, and therefore, would never bear children.
Withdrawing from society was not a conscious act but one borne over time. Juniper’s one pleasurable interaction with the outside world came in the breathtaking forms of cloth dolls. These were intricate and intimate creations for Juniper: manifestations of the numerous children she would never conceive and raise. Therefore, it was with the utmost care and devotion that her dainty hands transformed lifeless fabrics and threads into exquisite miniature daughters.
These soft pseudo-children were adorned with woolly stockings, leather or corduroy shoes, petticoats, and even under skirts. The dresses were made from patterned or laced fabric. All were gifted thick shoulder shawls and descending brown, black or golden yarn hair upon their heads.
Juniper would painstakingly fashion their facial features from multi-coloured threads, which, of course, engaged their distinct personas. Juniper lovingly added dimpled fingers as a final touch, furthering their life-like qualities.
Every few years, Juniper would produce a doll so enchanting (even by her own standards) that she would be unwilling to part with her. In the end, there had been ten that had lined a shelf in her bedroom. These became the Ten Tandy Sisters.
The naming of these special ones furthered their individual spirits, and it was with great joy that Juniper would introduce and place a new younger sister with the elder ones. Their charming appearances were named; Teresa, Antonine, Frances, Catherine, Anne, Marcelle, Beth, Marie, Yuko and Mackenzie.
Of all her possessions, the ten sisters were Juniper’s favourites, as they represented not only unanswered maternal instincts but, in her mind, proved her worth and reason for being.
Many’s a time, mainly as old age descended upon her, Juniper was gladdened to stand and regard her little ones. Shaky as her hands eventually became, the tenderness with which they righted a dress or restored strands of hair that had gone astray were silent proof that her motherly inclinations were perennial.
Days swelled to weeks, weeks to years, until one fine evening, Juniper closed her soft blue eyes to think upon a stanza from her book and never opened them again. Her only living family relation was a cranky niece who lived across the sea. Upon hearing about her Auntie’s death, the niece came to sort and sell the bungalow, assuming that its sale would enhance her dwindling accounts.
~ ~ ~
Ten sprightly utterances hailed from the back bedroom, but the comfortless human voice that echoed throughout the bungalow could not hear them.
Amongst themselves, however, the anxious chattering from atop the dusty shelf developed to a fever pitch as the day progressed. Indeed, these voices, owned by the ten sisters, would have been described as pitiable had they been heard.
The sisters gazed in powerless disgust as the home was virtually pulled apart. The life and possessions of Juniper Tandy were tossed about in rapid uncaring chaos. Items were designated for sale, for rubbish bins, or for a charity shoppe.
The niece marched into the cosy bedroom with empty boxes and rubbish bags, unemotionally flinging the contents of the room into them. She moved to the shelf where the ten sisters sat and eyed them curiously. It was Frances whom she roughly seized, scrutinized and flipped this way and that, all the while smacking layers of dust from her form. The niece deemed her unfit to sell but too good for the bin.
The nine remaining sisters cried out as Frances was plunged into a plastic bag with several articles of clothing. One by one, each sister was discarded into the black abyss. It was not until the bag was shoved into the back seat of a car that they were able to speak.
They could not right themselves, of course. Some were suspended up-side-down, while others were tangled in Juniper’s clothing. The Tandy sisters were driven to a faraway charity shoppe as the niece did not want the villagers to see what she had deemed too ratty to sell.
The Ten were placed atop a rickety high shelf, side by side and out of their usual order.
Nine days passed, with nary a glance toward the ten sisters. Perhaps they willed themselves invisible. Maybe Juniper was watching over them, protecting them from a fate unbearable. On the tenth day, a young woman named Margaret happened by the shoppe and strolled the aisles, not looking for anything in particular but looking for something particularly peculiar.
She almost passed the ten sisters, as she was small in stature and the shelf was above her head. However, as fate would have it that day, one of the sisters fell on her side as the woman walked by, creating a slight movement, to which Margaret turned and raised a curious eye.
Margaret picked up Teresa and saw her shining beauty. “I must have her,” she said aloud. The other dolls gasped with fright at the thought of losing their sister. Marie, the doll leaning next to Teresa, willed herself to fall to her side, thus stimulating the woman’s eyes a second time. Margaret gently removed all ten Tandy sisters from the shelf, determining which two or three she would purchase.
When the woman advanced to the front counter, all ten were cradled in her arms. A second woman in the shoppe came up directly behind Margaret and tapped her on the shoulder. “Wherever did you find those?” she asked.
“On a shelf back there,” said Margaret, pointing.
“Are there more?” inquired the other woman. “I would like some, too.”
“Why no, there aren’t anymore; I have taken the lot,” replied Margaret.
The woman’s eyebrows curled toward each other in annoyance. “Can I buy a few of yours then?”
Margaret perused the ten sisters for a few moments. “You cannot. I am sorry but I … I have not the heart to separate them.”
The ten Tandy sisters sighed with great relief.
Margaret’s momentary sense of selfishness was replaced by an impression of care, knowing that she had indeed made the right decision. Margaret brought the sisters home and placed them upon a shelf in her bedroom.
The sisters, feeling safe and content after days of fear and loss, spoke freely.
“Juniper must be so pleased that we remain united.”
“Poor Juniper; her life tossed into bins.”
“She wouldn’t mind. Not really. We were her pride and joy. She cared not one whit about possessions, save for us.”
“You know, we shall all end up as dust one day.”
“Yes, we shall, but not yet my sisters, not for a long time yet. Hush now; it is time to sleep.”
