TOMMY DOLL,DADDY DEAREST,SUPERNATURAL SAGA,ONE OF A KIND,PART 1

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TOMMY DOLL,DADDY DEAREST,SUPERNATURAL SAGA,ONE OF A KIND,PART 1:
$91.77

You are offerding on the doll you see here. This is my own experience with the Tommy,Daddy Dearest Doll. He is a antique,not a reproduction and from the early war of 1913? The battle of Mons.

This description is the spirit telling his own story.

T- I became a Tommy because at the time I felt it was the right and honorable thing to do. How I ended up here or in this situation I can only guess. I have lived quite some time now and watched people grow old and die and I\'ve seen changes socially I never expected. Men dressing like women and women in war! Never had I imagined such things. In my form I met a beautiful woman who made my blood catch fire! All my senses are heightened so I could smell her as her pulse quickened at the site of me which much to my chagrin she could see. I never wanted her to see me. I just wanted to hop under the coverlettes with that fine young Betty! And I did and then I didn\'t. What I thought was a lovely woman turned out to be a man!! God strike me dead! What happened in this world? Just as I thought I was going to the salmon cavern, I ended up with a bat and two balls in my catchers mitt.

Me- Salmon Cavern?

T- Axe wound? Beef curtains? It was rare as rocking horse shit, either way!

Me- Okay I get it. Would you mind if I just translated some of the things you say to make sure people understand?

T- Have at it.

Me- Thank you but you can continue now. Sorry for interrupting. I just want to make sure I\'m typing it up correctly.

T- I guess I should start with why I think I\'m like this, caught between two worlds is what you dead threads call it, except I\'m in both worlds. I become physically here and I don\'t know why. This is why when you got me I spoke to you. I knew you could see me. I just felt it like pop bubbles.

Me- Dead threads? I\'m guessing that means a psychic medium?

T- Yes. Your type has a connection to those like me. It\'s like you, too, exist in both worlds or can\'t cut the ties. But let me get on with this.

Me- Okay.

T- So, I was a Tommy and within two weeks I ended up in Mons. This is why I think I\'m caught in two worlds. Some call it legend or fiction, wishful thinking. But, no... it was real. I saw the great white horse straight out of Heaven with its glorious angel riding with its sword held high. I saw it with my own eyes. The angels on foot following behind were in the thousands. These angels stopped the Germs in their tracks. All war on the battlefield stopped. The only sound was of the angels feet hitting the ground. In my awe, as I stood with my gap open, I turned as I felt something touch me. The greatest of angels leaned from its horse and touched me on the shoulder and then on the head. It spoke to me and said I would have a long life and that it would be meaningful.

During the final moments, I remember thinking to myself that the angel must not have known what he was talking about. The last thing I remember is the smell of lead and the rising smoke. A warm sensation spread through the lower part of my body. The pain was too much to bear, unlike anything I have ever felt mortal or immortal. I glanced down in shock to realize that everything was missing below my knees. Those Germs must have planted a mine or something. It shot right through me like a hot knife through fresh butter. The warm began to flow through me like the Mons River parted us Tommies from those Germs. My breaths began to draw shorter and shorter. I was laying just about flat on my back, but even still I grew dizzy with each new breath that I drew.

I watched through the confusion of battle. I could hear the voices of those soldiers that I had fought with echoing through the fields and somewhere off in the distance I could hear what sounded like rolling thunder. Reality became hazy to me and everything that I was seeing became a gray blur as a squinted to get a better view. Confusion became we quite fiercely. It the strangest thing, too, what I saw. At a time like this, the mind of man does queer things. Rising up out of the smoke, in crisp, clear color, was the most beautiful little girl that I had ever laid my eyes upon. She was Eugenie. My Eugenie. She stood there in a satin mourning dress, her golden hair in ringlets, with one small little curl hanging down on her forehead. She peered at me from beneath icy blue eyes and they wore the same always-intelligent look that she always had. Her skin was a pale as fresh Winter snow. She wore crimson on her lips even at the age of four. Through the sound of battle I could not make out what she was saying. I could see her moving her tiny lips and for the life of me I could not make what she was saying. This is precisely the moment when she began to fade. I tried to yell out her name, for her to come back. All I was able to muster up at this point was some blood spatters. There was no sound coming out at all, as much as a fought to make it happened, my body refused. Eugenie faded away all together into the gray mist of war. Something filled my ears like the sound of screaming, there was a bright flash of light and it was all over. Silence.

Helena and I were never married. I had met her right before I became a Tommy. She always bore the most serious countenance, which is probably where my Eugenie got it from. She was also very pale in appearance with a head full of curly brown locks. On the other hand I was the one that always had more straight-ish blond hair. We both had blue eyes, but Helena\'s eyes were the ones that could pierce your soul. Mine were a smoky blue, almost gray color. She was quite possibly the most beautiful woman that I have ever set my man eyes feasting upon. It was determination that scored the win. Helena and I met, and almost immediately became romantically involved. At the age of 20 I found myself a very young father with a daughter for whom I would do anything for. Although it was not exactly looked highly upon by the church, I stayed with Helena who, nine months later, gave birth to my Eugenie. Up until that point I had never know what true love felt like. See that child gaze up into my eyes made my heart grow to a size that my chest could barely accommodate. It was at this point I realized what true love actually was about. It is about the love that a man shares with the daughter that the he and woman he\'s madly passionate about make together. There was nothing more I wanted to do than to make my Eugenie happy. I stayed with her for four years.

Before I left for war, a friend of mine made this doll to look for me so I could give it to Eugenie. If I could not be there for her physically, then I insisted that that she remember me in one exchange or another. The form of a doll couldn\'t have been more of a perfect idea. Especially when it looks exactly the way I did . There was no way she would forget who I was, that way when I made it home, I could tell her all about my adventures at war. She could tell about her adventures with her daddy doll. After I gave Eugenie the doll, I found myself as a new recruit for the British Expeditionary Force (BEF for short). It wasn\'t long before they loaded me up and I was on the shores of the Mons River, opposing those Germs. There were 1600 casualties that day. I was just one of the many that lost their lives at the Battle of Mons.

Me: So the girl that you saw, she was daughter? I\'m taking it she wasn\'t really there? Did you die out there on the Battlefield, all alone? I can only imagine what that felt like.

T- Eugenie was my daughter, but no she was not really there. It was an apparition that appeared to me in my time of distress, because she was the most important to me. When I saw her standing out there on the battlefield, I think it was more a comfort to my own soul, because I didn\'t get to see her before I drew my last breath. I wanted so badly to see her that my mind made her appear anyhow. I knew that I would live on in her mind due to the fact that her daddy doll was hanging by her side, as her faithful companion. I couldn\'t have imagined in a thousand years of living that I would actually be able to come back to her, once again, to be by her side.

Me- How did this happen? In what form did you return to her?

T- At the end of the Battle of Mons the strangest thing happened. Remember how that angel had touched me after he stopped the war for that brief second? Well, I encountered him once more. After the last flash of light, I woke up in a different form. It was in soul form and I was standing over my dead body and I could see both sides of the river, both factions of the army. I could hear the sounds of battle, smell the smell of burnt flesh. I hovered there for a good minute or so, not really sure to make of the whole situation. Then the time stopped again. Both armies from either side stopped fighting, frozen in place like a still life portrait. Even the smoke stopped rising and stood still. I could no longer smell or hear anything of this world. In the midst of the scenery, I watch as one very small beam of white light descended from the sky. A small dove descended in the light\'s presence and it reminded me of the story of when Jesus was baptized by the Apostle John. When the dove landed, the Earth shook and a funnel of white light shot up into the sky and the sky separated into halves. I could see the archangel, the same one that had laid his hand on my shoulder, at the end of the tunnel of light. The tunnel itself was bright white light. It attracted me with sensations of comfort and calming unlike anything that I had previously known here on Earth. The angel carried a flaming sword, which he raised into the air as he called for me, telling me to come home. I went into the light like a fly goes into a bug zapper now-a-days. As I passed through the tunnel of diamonds, I realized that each diamond was a different crystal of life in which my memories were held. As I floated through the tunnel I felt free, like air. For the first time in my existence, I was lifeless, literally and it was the most liberating feeling that I ever had, being in my true soul form. While I was floating, my life flashed before me in bursts of memories.

The angel still stood at the end of the tunnel, waiving his fiery sword and beckoning me to Heaven. My eyes were fixated on his heavenly appearance, as memories continued to flood my brain. I watched my childhood pass before me. Then, my younger teenage years. I watched as I met Helena, the mother of Eugenie. Then, off to the side, in on of the diamonds, I caught the reflection of Eugenie herself and I reached out to her. I felt my soul begin to crush at the realization that would never get to see Eugenie again. Then I saw the angel at the end of the tunnel, my gaze fixated on him like a helpless captive, as he was telling me to crossover. I wanted to listen so badly, but then I saw my Eugenie again, and I reached out for her and as far as I tried to reach, I could get to her. I began to feel very torn between the two possibilities. I was ready for Heaven, but what about Eugenie? She needed me. Was that thought form the literal sense of Hell? Stuck somewhere that reminds you of your previous life without ever physically giving it to you? Why couldn\'t I understand what was happening? The light began to spin and I closed my eyes. It was a warm whirlwind of confusion I tried to make sense out of everything that was going on, but I just couldn\'t. I saw Eugenie\'s face and I reached out for her. Then, the angel was right in front of me, calling for me. Then, there was Eugenie smiling again. I reached out and scooped her up in my arms. Everything turned pitch black.

Me: Then what happened? Did you actually wake up with Eugenie back in your body? Or did you enter into the kingdom of Heaven? I\'m assuming at this point you were no longer living? Where did you go? What did you see?

T: Those Germs must have threw a bomb or something, because it was when I awoke that realized that life as I had previously known it was over. When I awoke, I was surrounded by the light again. I was actually floating through the light, like a fish swims through the water, with no mortal body. I was just a soul. It was comforting here. The only equivalent I can think of on Earth would be the comfort of a nice warm bed, by the fireside, in the middle of a winter snow storm. It just feels right, like you never want to leave that bed, or in my case realm. The realm that I had visited was called the Realm of Angels. I guess after my death, my soul was weighed out, it was determined that I was allowed to stay as an angel. It wasn\'t that long that I got to “enjoy my cloud” so to speak, because I wasn\'t on number nine too long before I was summoned by the angel with the fiery sword. He informed me that I was to return to Earth as a Fader Angel. The assignment was to learn as much about human kind as I possibly could through observation. I could not help but wonder why God would need somebody to go on such an assignment, but I didn\'t argue, because you know what happened to Lucifer when he did that. Sorry, not going to happen. I enjoyed my angelic existence in the realm of angels, in the the cities of gold and diamonds. There were angelic palaces made entirely of white ivory, with beautiful stained glass windows, each one with a moving picture inside of it, depicting and era of time. They were like vessels in time embedded in the church of life. They were the records of time that had been placed into Heaven, into the Realm of Angels. This is what I left to return. I cannot say that I regret leaving because what happened next was short of a miracle.

After the angel spoke to me, he bade me farewell, and the next thing I know I\'m waking up as myself again, in the realm of Earth. I was with my family, only it had to be a few years after I had actually passed. I noticed Helena sitting in one corner of the cottage and my lovely daughter Eugenie in the the same corner close to her singing to herself and laughing. She appeared to be around 7 or 8 years old. On the mantel was a picture of myself, in my Tommy uniform and a bunch of fresh cut flowers. I could smell the flowers as well as the scent of fresh burning wood on the hearth. I tried to get up, but my legs felt like jelly and I thought to myself that this must have been from being out of my body for so long. Then, I began to shout across the room to them. At first it was more of speaking to them from across them room. They simply went on with whatever game they were playing. Didn\'t they want to see me? Did they not want anything to do with me? Here I was returned from the dead and they didn\'t even care to notice! I began to shout at the top of my lungs! “Look!” I shouted. “I\'m over here!! Don\'t you see me?!” But there was no response. This is when I glance down to get a look at myself. Instead of my body as it had previous been before, there was cloth. I had cloth boots and try as I might, I could not move them, not even a single centimeter. It was then that I realized that I was not revived into mortal form. Rather, I was in a vessel-- my daughter\'s daddy doll.

I laid there for over half the night wondering when my couple of favorite girls were going to notice that the daddy doll was missing from their fun and excitement. It\'s not that I was mad at the fact that they didn\'t think to include their doll into their fun. Who really does that anyway? Instead, I was feeling impatient. I wanted to feel the embrace of my Eugenie again. I wanted her to pick me up and wrap her arms around me, even in the form of a stuffed doll, it didn\'t matter. For the time being, I laid there, content to feast my eyes upon Helena and my daughter. A sight that I had never forgotten but which I never thought I\'d see again. It overwhelmed my entire soul with reassurance in knowing that they were safe and sound, alone together in a little cottage on the outskirts of a small town, getting by. As the fire in the hearth turned to mere embers, I watched as the two loves of my life cuddled up together by the fire and eventually fell asleep. Being an immortal soul, I have no need for sleep. I don\'t sleep, but I can tell you that it felt as comforting as sleep to watch my ladies sleep peacefully. It was almost as good of a feeling as being back in Heaven.

Me: I can surely imagine what must\'ve been going through your mind. It\'s like here you are, in doll form, unable to actually do anything at this point, just watching your Helena and your daughter as if nothing has ever happened. What exactly was your purpose coming back to Earth? To watch over your family? Or to simply gather information on humans?

T: Humans work in mysterious ways. Although they are programmed by God they are also designed to exhibit free will. If there is something that a person don\'t want to do, they aren\'t going to do it. That\'s what is meant by human nature. I was sent to study human nature and human behavior to report back to God in the end of time. That way when the Tribulation comes, God can have a better sense of how to actually judge the human soul. I\'m not the only one. God has these types of angels all over the world, in different places of the world.

Me: Okay I understand now. Continue with your story.

T: Later that night is when the storm came through. At first it started as pitter-patter on the roof top. It grew into steady rain. The wind began howl and eventually came thunder and lightning. The noise was so loud that it eventually awoke my daughter. She quickly made her way over to where I, as the doll, was laying. She picked me up, squeezed me tight and went back to join her mother. We laid there together and that little girl, for only being 7 or 8 had a death grip around my neck tighter than a grown man. “It\'s going to be okay, Daddy Dearest,” I heard her whisper as she kissed my forehead. I wanted so badly to tell her that, yes, everything was going to be okay. I searched within my own soul for the motion that I wanted to send to her, and found it deep within the core of my being. I concentrated extremely hard on that emotion. I felt that emotion, and breathed it. I spoke the emotion. Eventually I felt something like a pop and I was no longer inside of the doll. Instead, I was, what appeared to me, a full-on physical form. I was standing next to Eugenie and Helena, and for a moment it felt as if I had never left them at all. I reached in to stroke Helena\'s face in the dying fire. She shuddered as if struck by a cold wind. I kissed my daughter on the forehead, although by this time she had fallen fast asleep once again. Then, I settled back into my vessel for the evening.

Me: So can you control when you move into and out of your vessel?

T: It is a tricky thing. Yes and no. When I am overcome by emotion and I really feel the moment and I can force myself out of my vessel. There have been times when I pop out of vessel and I\'m not expecting and there have also been times when I have not been able to come out of the vessel at all. To say that I have complete control over it would be somewhat of a lie, you know? Nobody ever really has complete control over anything. That\'s just the blarney of living isn\'t it? We think we are in total control, but we never really are. I a fader angel. This means that I am sent from Heaven, attached to one particular item or another. We can fade in and out of vessel, but I guess we never will gain complete control over it. I\'m not sure, I haven\'t yet anyway. Beats me!

Me: So how long did you stay with Eugenie?T: I stayed with Eugenie for years and years. It was a few weeks later, following the storm when she finally realized that I existed in her Daddy Doll. It was a day that I was able to project from the doll to exist in physical form. That being said, I guess be trapped between two dimensions at the same time provides that not everyone that you want to show yourself to will see you. It\'s a real bugger because what if you want to get some? Carry on a bit? It can be awkward approaching somebody who can\'t see you at all. This is what happened when I figured out Helena couldn\'t see me. One night while Eugenie was off with her grandmother, Helena was taking a nap. She looked so beautiful laying on her bed, so I crept in and began to touch in the sensitive parts. I\'ll be darned if she couldn\'t feel everything that I did to her. I made full on love to her in her sleep and when she awoke she thought it was a dream. It was agonizing to see her when she woke up, though. She couldn\'t see me at all. As loud as I shouted at her, it was as if there was just some sort of wall up. Maybe she was over everything emotionally and didn\'t want to see me. It would make sense, from a human point of view. She remained faithful to me throughout her life, though. She never seen another man, never even looked in the direction of a lad. Occasionally I would make love to her while she slept and she always thought it was a dream... always.

Now, on to the part about my daughter. It wasn\'t even a full month after the storm on a bright sunny day. I realized by then that her mother couldn\'t see me. I had never really had the chance to experiment with Eugenie to see if she was able to see me or not. This particular morning Eugenie was awfully fond of nature. A slight summer breeze blew through the air and you hear it whistle threw the pines. The scent of nature was fresh and enlivening. It filled the air with an overall excitement. Miss Eugenie, decided that this was the perfect morning for a tea part. So, here I sat, in the dirt opposite of a teddy bear with a hole in one foot and missing a eye. Over top of my officer\'s petty coast was a pink apron, complete with a pink bonnet. I sat there in the dirt, across from One-Eyed Willy while I witnessed Eugenie ready a play set full of nothing, pretending that it was full of tea. “Teaa Tiimme” I heard my little Angel screech. “Will that be on lump or two, Mr. Ted?”, which I\'m assuming was her name for the dilapidated bear that sat across from me, as she clonked down a cup in front of him. “And how many lumps for you Daddy Dearest? You look so handsome in your little bonnet, Daddy Dearest! Daddy Dearest won\'t you say something? Won\'t you talk to me Daddy Dearest?” I guess she was having some sort of emotionally breakthrough and was in the moment. I felt overcome with grief at the sight of seeing my daughter in tears, wishing for her father to come back. That\'s when I felt the pop and I was back in my physical form.

The first thing that Eugenie did when she saw me was stop talking in her tracks. She stopped evertying and it felt as though existence stood still. Then she screamed. I quickly used my hand to stifle her screaming and her eyes got really big and I motioned for her to stop screaming and to calm down. When she was calm I explained to her what had happened. I also explained to her that she could see me and her mother could not. That my presence was available for some to see and some could not. She look me deep in my eyes, with her intelligent, piercing blue gaze, and I knew that she knew what I was talking about. Even at the young age of 8, my Eugenie understood. She was always very inquisitive and she was always intelligent. Those years were my favorite, the ones that I got to stay with my Eugenie. I stayed with her, playing games with her and going on secret expeditions in the nearby woods in the forms of both myself and the daddy doll. We made it through tough times together. Helena hadn\'t had much of a family, so in times of need she was all my worldly family really had to depend on. She couldn\'t always provide the best of everything, but what she to do? She was more or less a widow, even though we were never technically married. No man wanted a woman who already had baggage in those days. It isn\'t like in these days where anybody will put their meat patty into a bun just to say they made a sandwich! I remember in 1918, closer to the eve of 1919 was when my Eugenie caught the Spanish Flu. At first, Helena thought it was just a common illness. She made my daughter rest in bed and I came out from the doll to visit her when I could. Then Helena caught the flu and I\'d come out when possible to take care of both of them before returning to my vessel.

Me: So, did you stay there forever? How did you end up in America of all places? After all you are European doll...

T: Well, as time passed and my Helena grew up, she began seeing a young man named Joseph. Joe, they call that lad for short. Even though I hated Joe for taking my daughter away from me, I was happy for her for awhile. What father doesn\'t want to see his daughter happy, attempting to make herself a better person. And Joe? Well, let\'s just say he was the lucky one of the bunch and he had not a want or need in his entire life. In fact, there were times where Eugenie would tell me that she didn\'t understand why Joe loved her so much. There was nothing she could possibly offer him in return. Apparently, she never realized how much of a beautiful young women she had become, even at the age of 18. She stood slender, with just a slight curve at the hip. Her hair fell in curly blond locks and she kept those same icy blue eyes that she inherited years ago. There was a naturally redness about her cheeks that stood out against her ivory skin like a full moon in the sky. It was Joe that would eventually take my Eugenie away from me. That lad did a fair job, too. At first, Eugenie would leave for a day or two at a time while she was courting the lad. I often wondered how their visits would go, but then Eugenie would come home and swear to her mother that they weren\'t doing anything they were supposed to do. The times the I actually got to see Eugenie became less and less frequent, so I treasured them even more. Then, one day I overheard an argument Eugenie and her mother were having from Eugenie\'s bedroom, where she spent most of her nights now, rather than cuddled up next to her mother.

“But your only 16!!” I heard Helena shout from den, where even long after the necessity, a fire still burned to keep the small cottage warm.

“Mother, I can take care of myself. And there\'s Joseph. We\'re getting married anyway mother! You were never married to daddy before he left for the war!! You let him leave and he never came home to us!!” I heard Eugenie say, fighting back tears.

There was a brief moment of silence before I realized that both of the women were in tears and I couldn\'t help but feel like I should be there consoling them, but this is one of the days that just couldn\'t make my pop happen, so I just stayed inside of the daddy doll listening to what I could hear. It came to pass the Eugenie was pregnant with her first child. Which meant that nearly never got to see her, anymore. It was okay though, because I was bloody excited at the thought of being a grandfather. Well, not actually being a grandfather, but you get the picture. The excitement didn\'t last very long, however. Eugenie fell ill during the final trimester of her pregnancy and the midwife told her that if she didn\'t attempt to deliver the baby right then and there that she could risk giving life to a still born child. Having already been married to Joseph, Eugenie wanted nothing more than her own little family. She would not be able to bear the thought of having a still born child, so she agreed to give the baby a try early. They gave her some sort of medication that sped up her labor. Before the process began, she asker for her daddy doll, which made me feel extremely proud as a father, because she actually remembered and wanted me present for the birth. I don\'t know what happened that night, because I\'m not a medical expert by any means. The air seemed unnaturally still as if death had already been there visiting. After three hours of pushing Eugenie finally gave up. She had lost too much blood during the procedure and her skin had grown extra pale. I didn\'t really realize what was happening til the last minute. She gave one last push and out came the baby boy. It was like one life was traded for another, as I watched my only child take her last breath that night. The baby boy cried for his mother, but not even a full two hours after Eugenie had past, so did the baby boy. He never even got a proper naming, god rest his soul.

Helena was extra frantic that night, so I spent most of the night with the woman\'s armed wrapped around me in the form of the doll as she sobbed tears into me. She wanted to know why I had left and never came back. Why did I have to go and die in war? What was I trying to prove? She screamed that she hated me and then after a little bit clung to the daddy doll asking God to send me back to her. Little did she know I was already there, but there was nothing I could do. She couldn\'t see me. She had no idea that I had actually been there for the past 14 years, talking to Eugenie as our little secret. She had no idea that there were nights where I chased off wild animals from attacking their cottage or kept strangers away. She was completely and utterly clueless, more than a normal woman could ever be. I only stayed there with Helena for a few days. She didn\'t bath, she didn\'t even get out of bed. Her eyes glazed over like glass and her hair became a disheveled mess. The, some lady in a black dress came and took her away to the a psych ward, which were actually becoming quite popular in those days. I\'m not sure what happened to Helena after that. I was left behind with the cottage and I never saw her again.

Me: Wow. That was intense. I\'m really sorry that you had to go through all that. It sucks. If it were me, I think I rather would have just stayed in Heaven.

T: Like, I said, I made it through some rough times. I didn\'t have time to ponder what was really to become of me, because shortly after Eugenie died and Helena was carted off to the loony bin, I was snatched up by a family at an estate sale that the state had after Helena could no longer manage her property. I guess she ended the rest of her life in the loony bin. She had never had much family and the little bit of family that she did have never approved of me and the fact that we were never married. I guess that\'s just part of life. The new family was quite well-to-do themselves and even own an automobile, which by this time in 1926 had been quite popularized. Helena had never had one because there just wasn\'t the financial resources to go around. When I left the cottage, my first car ride was in a Fiat 501. It was bright candy apple red, brighter than a modern-day fire truck. The car ride was a little bit bumpy, but there was not much in the way of complaining that I could do, after all, nobody could really hear me, so it didn\'t do much good to complain. The sky was sunny and the air was crisp on the day that I showed up in the French Chateau in Aix-en-Provence.

I was given to a little boy named Rupert. Rupert had fine blond hair and dark eyes. He was a pudgy little fellow who loved to eat and would call his maids often for a snack. His nose was turned up kind of like a little pig and most of the times when he talked he sounded like there was fluff in his mouth or maybe like his tongue was too big for his mouth or something like that. He was only 8 years old when I was given to him. I was brought to his room by one of his maid, who told him, “Look, Rupert, a Tommy doll!” His fat face was overcome with glee when he realized what she was handing him and for the next few days, I was locked up in this little chap\'s room with him. All the while, this young chap would line up German dolls then pick me up from behind my shoulder, yell out , “Bang, Bang, JERRYY.... you\'re dead!” He\'d do this one by one until he had knocked over, or literally flung across the room, every single one of his German dolls. Then he\'d line them up and do it all over again. This was a fun game that we\'d play every day at least once. In fact, I didn\'t even attempt to show myself to him until almost a year later, when I popped from the daddy doll unexpectedly. Similarly to the way my Eugenie had acted when she first encountered me, so did Rupert. Rupert looked at me with terror in his eyes, his little piggy nose began to quiver and he wailed at the top of his lungs. I quickly grabbed the young lad, place my hand over his face and told him that I wasn\'t going to hurt him. I kept him like that until he agreed to stop screaming. Then, his fear turned to sheer curiosity and we spent hours in the bedroom until his parents arrived home from whatever social function they were attending and had dinner with the boy and sent him to bed.

On one particular school day, Rupert was carrying me along with his school books when a group of boys a tad bit older than he was (he must have been about 11 at the time) began to make fun of him. Poor little Rupert spent most of his time in seclusion and, as such, he couldn\'t really defend himself all that well. He didn\'t really know how to socialize either. It didn\'t take long for the group of bullies to pick out that he was carrying with him a doll. Well, as masculine as it might appear, of course the bullies picked on him. They called him a sissy and attempted to snatch his doll away. They push poor Rupert to the ground, which made me quite angry because aside from the fact that this little boy had a severe eating problem, he wasn\'t a mean soul and wouldn\'t hurt a fly. It made me incredibly angry to watch those boys hurt my little buddy. I felt my body pop once more and before long I was full form right in front of the boys. Rupert smile and I think only one of the boys could see me, because he turned around and ran away at first glance. The other boys I picked up by their the collar of their shirts suspended them in mid air for a a minute or so. All the while they are screaming. Then I dropped them back down to the Earth, at which point Rupert yelled, “Go on... get out of here!” I\'ll be darned if those bullies ever came back to mess with Rupert again.

Rupert was a lonely boy, and through the years he often told me that he didn\'t really have much of a connection with his parents. I\'d listen to him talk first. Then, I\'d tell him my tales of war and how I had come to be stuck in the daddy doll. Rupert just called me Tommy, and it fit, so I kept it. Together we eased each other\'s pains. He was pained because his parent were always too busy to ever pay attention to him. They were part of the French Aristocracy and would never be home to tend to the one son that they had. They sent maids in lieu of love. He eased my pain, because I told him all about what I had seen and how Eugenie had died giving birth. In a big world that rejected Rupert, mostly because he was an unsightly, little thing, we found solace in one another on a daily basis. He still picked me up behind my arms and killed the Jerry\'s every once in a while, but not as often anymore as he did a few years prior.

Me: Poor little guy! I\'m kind of glad you stood up for him, though. It seems as though he was outcast by everybody. It\'s a good thing he had you for those years while he did! What happened next?The year 1931 was the year that The Christ Monument was put up Rio de Janeiro. It was the year the Al Capone was imprisoned for tax evasion. It was also the year that Rupert left his family in the middle of the night. He had no intention of staying there anymore and he wanted to leave his past behind him and make it in the new world. He stole a bunch of his parents money, packed one suitcase, got a fake passport stating that he was 18, and left upon a boat that carried him to Ellis Island. It was the same boat that carried me to Ellis Island as well. For, at the young age of 16, Rupert did not want to run away from home without his loyal companion. It was actually a refreshing and exciting new start for the both of us in new world where we new nobody but each other. Rupert used the money that he had taken from his parents, changed his name to Jack, rented an apartment and got a job as a paper boy.

During the day while Rupert was at work, I\'d stay in the apartment, in the form of the Tommy doll, guarding our living quarters like a sentinel. Being New York was a big change from what we had been used to in the chateau. There was never really a quiet moment in the neighborhood, as the city life was more of a hustle and bustle than anything I had ever experienced. I only know because Rupert would take me out once in awhile on his paper deliveries, and allow me to see the world. It was a bright, beautiful thing and often times I found myself longing for life once more, so I could go out and explore on my own. Obviously, that was not the plan, but there\'s something about the lights in New York City at night that make you feel like you\'ve found a new existence; like no matter what happens everything is going to be alright. Sometimes I would look at the lights in the windows of the skyscrapers and they\'d remind of Eugenie\'s eyes. I\'d stare into the lights and pretend I was looking into those piercing blue eyes of my daughter. I\'d phase out and inside of my own mind, I time-travel to the days where my daughter and I would spend days laughing and playing in the pines by the cottages. Eventually, I hear the long, mournful wail of steam engine and that would bring me back to reality. It\'s not that I didn\'t enjoy Rupert\'s company, but I was sad to come back to reality. It was if I often could have just gotten stuck in those memories forever, but I guess that\'s how you become a lost soul and I was on a mission. Besides, I know that at the end of times, I will eventually be able to see my Eugenie again when the Kingdom of Heaven lands on Earth.

Me: That must\'ve been a hard experience. At least you still had the company of Rupert, who seems still be taking pretty good care of you at this point? I mean, you must\'ve been pretty taken care of by all that have had you, because you are still in very good shape even up to the point that I got you. How long did you end up staying in New York?

T: Rupert did take very good care me. With that being said, New York City in the 30s was ridden with crime. I guess it wasn\'t at bad as today, from what I can gather; but when you live somewhere where there is really nothing going on and you move to a place that never sleeps, there is bound to be some sort of culture shock. Needless, to say, the first time somebody broke into the apartment Rupert became concerned for his safety, as he should have well been. I guess it was just the recollection of all the years he was bullied back home. It wasn\'t anything personal I\'m sure, but Rupert began moving shortly after the second break in. He packed me up in a box, telling me not to worry, that when he gets to his new destination he will unpack me, but for now it was safer for me to remain here. I supposed he was right. I didn\'t want to be stolen by some common thief who would throw me in the trash. However, unpacking day seemed to never come. I guess I can\'t really blame Rupert for forgetting. I the hubbub of everything that was going on, it can be easy to forget things, even people sometimes. In was dark in the box, obviously. It is a place that I would never want to be again. When you are stuck within your own memories, it almost seems worse the worst hell you can imagine, especially when you don\'t sleep. I became very depressed, remembering the Battle at Mons, Helena, Eugenie, and the good times I had with Rupert shooting the Jerry\'s.

I was in the box for what seemed like an eternity. In fact when the box was opened up again, I was in completely new surroundings, somewhere I had never been before. Rupert opened the box and in the place where this once pig-nosed young boy stood was a fully grown man. He had thinned up considerably and his hair was going away. I guess when you become and adult you don\'t really remember the things you go through as a child, because next thing you know I find Rupert handing me to another young lad and saying to him. “I was you to have this, little Jack. This doll got me through the worse times of my life and I want you to take very good care of it. When I was younger, he was like my very own imaginary friend.” Imaginary Friend!! Can you believe that garbage??!!

Me: What?!! After all that? He just forgot about you? Or maybe he thought you were imaginary the whole the time?

T: I\'m not really sure what the case is, I think maybe it just comes with growing up. You think of things that you used to do as a child and dismiss them as rubbish. I will not tell a lie though. The first time I realized that Rupert could no longer see me, it hurt deep inside like I had lost a life-long friend. I became resentful and angry. When he first gave me to the little boy, I would pop out of my doll at night to scare him-- Little Jack they called him. Oh, I guess I forgot to mention the part where Rupert had met a girl. She was a plain looking thing, not exactly the type that you would right home about. Then again, Rupert was never all that great looking, himself. I have to admit though, the two of those ugly ducklings had made a cute child. He had huge, bright brown eyes. He didn\'t have much hair though and at around 5 years old, I would gather that he should have had more hair than that. When he cried he scrunched up his little nose, and looked like a drowned rat... and that\'s the handsome version. Other than that the child was cute. I guess all in all life happens when you least expect it and that is what happened to Rupert. I cannot say that I fault him for making his own little family, and truth be told, I was quite happy for him after I came to terms with it. Nobody really liked Rupert as a child and I\'m glad he could find that one person that made him happy. Like I said, though, that didn\'t stop me from tormenting his child at night. The child would start crying and yell for his daddy at which point both the parents would come running into the room to assure him there was nothing there.... but there was and it was me.

After a while, though, I grew quite fond of the child. He never really communicated with anyone, but I would pop out from my doll and I knew he could see me. I\'d walk about and his little eyes would follow me around the room, not saying a thing. It was the strangest thing and with as much time as I spent with the child, I knew there was something not right about him. I mean, I don\'t want to sound cruel, but he wasn\'t like any other human being that I had encountered. He was withdrawn and he lived in a world of his own. Sometimes he would laugh for no reason, and during times where he was supposed to laugh he\'d show no emotion at all. So, I stayed with the young lad, watching over him as had watched Eugenie when I first came to her after I died at Mons.

In the beginning of the 1940s, Rupert left for the war, which drudged up old memories of my war. It seemed like forever ago, but I guess it wasn\'t so long ago that I, myself, had seen the battlefield. When the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor, we entered headlong into a war that really wasn\'t our for fighting in the first place. However, just as we had the responsibility of defending US citizens when the the Germs sunk the Lucitania, we had no choice but to enter into war after being bombed by the Japanese Imperialists for basically no reason. When I first realized Rupert was leaving for war, it wrenched at my soul and if I had had a heart I\'m sure it would have felt heavy. It\'s funny the way you feel emotion when you are only a soul. It\'s like the world stands still and you actually become the emotion, in it\'s entirety. Even though Rupert had otherwise forgotten about me, it still hurt a lot to know that he would going to war. War is no place for a good man. I get the fact that you have to be a patriot for your country sometimes, but war is absolutely no place for a good man and Rupert was about as good a man as you would come by. Anyway, I stood by, keeping an eye over the wife and kiddo, Little Jack.

Pearl Harbor was bombed on December 2, 1941. Rupert had left shortly after that, as they needed good strong men. Even though his identification told the world that he was 28, Rupert was only 26 in actuality. He was proud to do something that was contributing to his country and he reminded of a regular statesman such as I had been during the First World War. There was nothing that could change his mind, even though his son was about 7 at the time, he knew that there were things that needed to be done. So, with his head held high he left for battle in the beginning of 1942. When he walked out of door in his army greens, his face looked cherubic, but his nose was still a little bit turned up. He was happy to what he was about to do. It was going to make a better life for his family, even though by this time Rupert had managed to bank up a decent savings. He kissed his wife and Little Jack goodbye and left. When I saw Rupert leave in his army greens that day, I could not have been prouder of the man that I had seen him become. It was the last time that I would see Rupert. It was the last time that anyone of us in the room would see Rupert. The letters came from an army camp for a little while. They became less and less frequent. Then, they stopped coming at all. It wasn\'t until the following September that Rupert\'s wife got the bad news. I was sitting on the sofa in the den with Little Jack when somebody knocked on the door. It was a somebody dressed in army colors. I couldn\'t quite hear what exactly was going on, but I saw Rupert\'s wife fall to her knees crying. It was then that I understood what exactly was happening. Little Jack just stood by and watched, totally emotionally unscathed by anything that had just happened. I think he understood perfectly what had happened, though. The dozen or so words that Little Jack had managed to learn by the time he was seven completely disappeared and he rescinded into a state of awkward loneliness, during which he only ever wanted to be alone. I could totally feel the kids pain, because this is how I felt when I realized that I had not only lost my Eugenie, but my grandchild as well.

Shortly after the death of Rupert, we were packed up from our home in what I later learned was rural Ohio and we moved to Southern Georgia, where we stayed with Little Jack\'s Grandparents for awhile. Little Jack\'s situation never progressed to where it should have. It wasn\'t until the following year, though, that his mother came to terms and we traveled to John Hopkins University. He was later diagnosed with a mental disorder known as Autism. Autism is a condition where you pretty much rescind from society to exist to in your own little world. It\'s something that I had been seeing in the child since I was taken out of a box and given to him. I\'m not sure why it took this woman so long to realize her son needed help. She did end up getting it for him, though.

It was a chilly night the night we left for the hospital. Little Jack was wearing a light jacket and his overnight bag was packed. I was packed in the bag alongside a pair of pajamas and later that night I was taken out by Jack\'s mother. The room in which I found myself was all kinds of crazy. I had never seen anything like it in my entire life. The room looked like an infirmary. The room was entirely white with all kinds of gizmos and gadgets that were hooked up to Little Jack. He took me out of his mothers hands, squeezing me for dear life. He couldn\'t talk, but he knew that I was there with him, whehter he could communicate it or not. He squeezed tight as the little boy began to cry. He was shivering with fear and I can imagine that it was a frightening experience, especially when you are left in the room all alone for telemetry readings. The machines around him made all types of scary snorts and noises. And the child cried, but I was right there by his side the entire time. It was during this time frame that I realized for the first time that although Little Jack was socially awkward and he didn\'t really communicate physically, that he could communicate telepathically. This is something the telemetry systems could not pick up on, but when I lay there in the hospital bed with the frightened little boy, it felt like out souls melted into one living soul-form being. I mean, whatever you want to call it. For that little bit of time Little Jack came into my being, in realm that was void of anything but both of our souls. For the first time since I had been with the little guy, I realized how very intelligent he was. In our safe place he could carry on a conversation that would put most of the adults in today\'s society to shame. He went on and on about how he missed his father already and that he knew what was going on. And he recollected about when he was just a few years younger he realized that I was attached to doll and tried so desperately to make communication with me, because he knew that I was the only one that could actually understand him. He could see me when I would fade in and out of the doll to my physical form, even after his father had forgotten. We talked about so much, but as soon as our little bonding time had begun, so it was over.

I never looked at Little Jack\'s smile the same way again, and we never did have another bonding session. Be that as it may, I knew that he knew I was there. He knew that I knew he could see me. It went on like this for several more years before he was eventually sent away to a group home for children. I was not permitted to travel with him, nor were any of his personal belongings. In fact, this would be the end of my journey with Rupert\'s family. I would once again be packed away in a box until some years later, when I was sold a rummage sale and I was bought by black family who eventually brought be to Alabama. I was given as a gift to a little black girl named Geraldine. Life with Geraldine was very different. For the first time in my life I think I completely understood what it was like to be dirt poor. When I was taken to the new place that I would call home, I realized that even as used of a doll that I had been, I would wrapped up and given to Geraldine for a birthday present.

Me: So, wait... Little Jack was diagnosed with Autism? Did they even know what that was in those times? How did they help him? I\'m sure you know what happened him, right? o

T: Actually, I have no idea what happened to the little boy. Autism was a fairly new development in those days. Most people just referred to him as retarded, although I don\'t think that this is necessarily a fairy analysis. He was perfectly normal inside of his own mind, he just couldn\'t communicate how he actually felt. I\'m not sure what made him like this, but he was transported what they called a “home for the feeble minded.” After he left, I never heard of what happened to him. I\'m not sure where he might be, even till this very day. I hope that where he\'s at, if he is still alive, that the little bugger is doing just fine. I\'m not sure either way. All I know is at this time my time with Rupert\'s family had come to an end.

Me: I\'m sorry for interrupting. Keep on.

T: Very well. When I was unwrapped and removed from my box, it would be the first experience I\'ve ever had with a black person in my life. In Britain, in my time, they just weren\'t that populous. I have nothing against black people, I just wasn\'t familiar with them. This black family, in particular, was very nice, but they were extremely poor. Geraldine wore tattered clothes and shoes with holes in them. What little bit of clothing she had that wasn\'t hand-me-downs from her mother or older sisters came from rummage sales and donations, kind of like the one that her parents bought me at. I\'m not sure where I was during the time of the sale. I could have still been in Georgia. I\'m not sure. I know that I had to travel a while to get to Geraldine and when I did I wasn\'t all too impressed with the surrounding. In the shack, as I call it, were Geraldine\'s two parents and three siblings. Nothing in the shack worked and there were roaches all over the place. Rodents ran about the floor as if the family kept them for pets. The family was only able to bathe themselves once every other day, to conserve water and energy. Thus, the whole house kind of had a certain smell to it. It didn\'t take long for me to realize that nobody in the entire household could see me. They were totally innate to the fact that I even existed, despite that fact that I would purposely move things around or make noises to try and get their attention. Nothing worked.

As for Geraldine, she was a nice enough girl. She was so thankful to her parents for finally getting her a doll of her own, that she didn\'t even notice the difference between normal dolls and myself. She was very proud of me and carried me along with everywhere she went. I\'m not sure why, but she called my Mr. Boots. I guess it had something to do with the fact that the doll I was held in was wearing Boots. That has to be the only explanation, other than that she wasn\'t a very bright girl. I mean she wasn\'t downright stupid, but she wasn\'t very smart. This was probably due in part to the fact that her education was very poor quality. In these times, which I learned were the mid-1950s, Blacks were locked in a dead race for equal rights. Being in the South proved no solace for this family either. Geraldine carried me to a school full of segregated black people; there was not a single white person there. They were the most humble individuals, however, because they were thankful for things that would have passed over. It really taught me that sometimes in life you must be thankful for all that you have, because you never know who could have it worse off than you. These classrooms might have had two books for every ten students and that were there. The water smelled foul like it hadn\'t been treated in months, and the roof had a leak. It didn\'t matter though, because to this group of individuals all that they had to endure was an window of opportunity. They never seemed to feel slighted by the hand they were dealt. They spoke of a man called Martin Luther King who I would realize later was a sort of savior for him.

As I stayed with Geraldine, I watched as she really hunkered down to get what she thought was decent education. She was constantly tormented and put down for the color of her skin. She was beaten up on the way to school several times and as much as I wanted to be able to protect the young girl each and every time, there was only once that I was actually able to pop out and save her. It was one night that she was staying at school to earn some extra credit. She was walking back from her classroom when she encountered a group of white teenagers who bullied her and pushed her around for being black. It didn\'t seem fair to me and my anger grew as they called her racial slurs, and told her that she was basically good for nothing. Now, by this time I had stayed with Geraldine for a totally of what must have been a good five or six years. She first received me when she was a child of merely 11 or 12. The year was probably something like 1962. I watched her as she studied vigorously, determined to live a better live than her parents did and he parents parents, and her enslaved great-grandparents before that. So, when these boys began calling her bad names and telling her that she was dirty because of her color, you\'re right-- it did make me awfully hot. What happened next made me so angry that it allowed me to garner that emotional energy that made me capable of leaving my doll form.

They tied Geraldine to the bed of a pick-up truck, taunted her and poking her with branches. She squirmed to try to get away, and she began to cry out in fear. She managed to get one hand free, during which she scratched one of the boy\'s faces. They then proceeded to beat her. blood gushed from her nose as she cried and tried to get away. Then, I watched as one of the boys began to undress her and spit in her face. I couldn\'t stand by and watch this happened, I tried frantically to push myself out of the doll. I watched from Geraldine\'s school bag, as the boy undressed himself and pressed his body next to hers. Geraldine was shaking and frantically trying to get away, but it was no use because the other boys had her held tight to the bed of the truck. As the boy pressed his body tight against hers, I got so angry that I was able to fade out of the doll, into my physical form. I\'m not sure if they saw me in my physical form or not, to be honest. At that point I didn\'t care. My anger burned like the sun scorches the earth in the desert on a hot summer day. I threw the boy off of her and proceeded to throw the rest of them away as well. The fact that they were perplexed by what had happened was enough of a hint to guess that they couldn\'t see, but I\'m not sure. I do know that they didn\'t attempt to follow Geraldine home.

Geraldine arrived home, shaken up from head to toe. In the aftermath of what had happened, she told nobody because she was to afraid of what would happen if she did tell. The KKK had been making a very visible presence in those parts in those years to suppress what was called the Civil Right Movement. The last thing she wanted was to be noticed by a group that very much so had the potential of murdering her and her family.

Me: So, the boys were trying to rape her is what you are getting at? That\'s pathetic! Did they ever retaliate against her for what had happened?T: I was getting to this, actually. Her attempts to stay under the radar must have been thwarted by the fact that she didn\'t submit to that gang of boys. Not long after this occurred, her family began receiving death threats, ordering them to move out of the area, so it could be cleansed of their impurity. Being as though they were extremely poor to begin with, they couldn\'t just up and move from their home. They lived in grave fear, not even allowing their children out past sunset, to save their children from being assaulted. Even during the day they wouldn\'t allow their children to travel alone. Then, one night there was a knock at the door and a demand to answer. Geraldine\'s parent were drug out to the front and as the children and I watched in horror, her parents were beaten to death. Each blow was like a blow to my own stomach, I\'m not sure how it managed, but I felt violently ill, even in spirit form. It was one of those emotions become me moments and at this point I knew that it wasn\'t going to end well for Geraldine or her family. As Geraldine clung me in her arms, I pushed out a telepathic messaged for her ro run. At first it didn\'t seem to come across, but then I think she got it. She was the only one of the family that got away last night, as the remainder of the family were burned alive in the shack. It is a gruesome story but, it\'s the truth. Geraldine eventually sold me to a collector so that way she could have a little bit of money to travel to live with some relatives in Baltimore, where I hear she eventually went on to become a doctor. Good for her, but I haven\'t seen her since the day she sold me to the war items collector in Tennessee. How she even made it that far with what little bit of money she had managed to save from washing dishes, I have no idea. I\'m glad I could be of use to her, though. I hope that wherever she is at, she is doing well for herself. I know that she was a very smart girl, in all senses of the word.

Me: So what happened to you after you were sold to the collector??

T: Well, have I changed hands a few times wince them, but not for the purposes of becoming a perosn\'s keepsake or toy. Once I was sold to the collector, I was traded or sold to other collectors, eventually coming to rest on wooden display case in an antique shop in Virginia. Virginia was uneventful, and it is here that I have spent the remainder of my years on the shelf watching the television and learning about the world. I have been handled by many customers. Some of them are psychic and know for a fact that I exist. Others are merely curious that the doll that remain in has made it so far through life and in such good condition. Through the years I have experienced everything from the murder of the man that they called Martin Luther King, the goings on of the Cold War with Russia, other wars, other political developments. I have watched as the times have changed and we have gone from listening to disco, to 80s rock, to 90s hip-hop, to blatant sex talk on the dance floor. It amazes that as far apart as the world used to be, that in today\'s age the world has become so close-knit that it almost reminds me of the Tower of Babel. The Tower will fall when the Lord returns and when the Lord Returns, I will get to see my beloved.

Me: So the shop in Virginia is the one where I found you? And what are your intentions with staying in the doll?T: I have to stay in the doll. I believe I told you this before. Until the Second Coming of Christ, when the New Jerusalem descends upon Earth, here I shall remain in the doll form that you acquired in that antique shop in Virginia. I knew that you were the one-- that you had to be the next person to get me, which is why I faded out to you, frantically trying to get your attention.

Me: Yeah, I know. I could feel you as soon as I passed by, but I wasn\'t entirely sure what was going on. As I passed by you the second time I could feel you, and then there you were.T: I feel like being here with you is the next leg of my journey. I have been dormant for so many years, that I am now looking for somebody with whom to share my experience and live out the next chapter of my life.

There is a lot more that Tommy and I spoke about and that will be added to part 2. Please stay tuned.

Your offerding on the doll.