THE ANIMATOR

RAR

There was a man in his old age sitting at a wooden table. His back was arched very occupied with what was sitting in front of him on the table.

   His small paint brush going back and forth from the paint to the object. The soft bristles brushed blue onto the porcelain glass. The old man was absorbed in painting a porcelain doll. Her eyes were closed, her blue dress dangled past her knees. The man painted in lace around the neck of her dress.

   He finished painting in her dress and sat back giving his weary hand a break. She was just as he envisioned.

   The man began to paint her hair that trailed just below her shoulders. The room was silent as he worked. Shelves and shelves of other crafts he had made in the past littered the room.  Other glass dolls, wooden puppets, stuffed animals, was what he did. He was a toy maker. Business wasn't going so well lately. He lives in a small town that didn't have many children in the first place and now they're all growing up. The old man was growing a bit lonely. He was always very kind and gentle.  

   He would usually create new toys and other crafts just to pass the time. However, today was a new project. He had just finished painting in the hair and cleaned his brush of the light brown paint. The man was just about to paint in her blush when his alarm clock went off. He froze and then looked up at the cu-coo clock he had made himself. 10:30. It was time for bed. The old man sat back and sighed staring at his work. Good enough for now.

   He got up, walked over to his kitchen, and opened his cabinet. He pulled out a contraption of sorts. There were four parts to this machine. The biggest part of this machine looked like a taken apart small bird cage with only four cage bars left to hold it up. The bars were completely wrapped with wires that were connected to the three other parts. The three other parts were the same, they looked like miniature solar panels that had mini stands to keep them up.

   The old man brought this contraption back to the doll. He placed the bird cage over her and then lined up the mini solar panels behind her making them face her back. One of the panels had a button on its side. The old man pressed it. There was a small buzzing coming from the top of the bird cage. The old man reached over poking the top of the bird cage with the tip of his finger and it pricked his skin. One drop of his blood dripped onto the machine. The old man lifted his finger and wrapped it in a small bandage.

   The machine still continued to whir. The old man stared at his creations. The porcelain doll stood so still. The old man yawned stretching and went straight to bed. The whirring didn't bother him. His hearing had dulled in his old age.

   

   There was a sound. A distant sound. That was all that could be heard at first. Perhaps it was buzzing? Floating in darkness, in light, in nothingness. It's so cold. The whirring grew louder. There was a sudden pain. The pain was in the center. Where is the center? That's right. The pain was in the heart. The pain of existing.

   Getting used to this pain, it became more of just a simple sense of feeling. Air was everywhere. It's getting warm. Suddenly everything was in place. The mind is an interesting thing. What gave it its power? The soul perhaps? The soul is a source of life.

   The doll began to move.

   As the machine whirred, small currents of electricity zapped the porcelain doll. The zaps became more and more frequent until the doll was constantly being electrocuted. The fixed up bird cage was suddenly surrounded by electric currents that swirled around it caging in the doll. The mini solar panels glowed as they watched this occurrence. The electric currents began to change color. Yellow, to blue, to green.

   After about an hour of this, the doll twitched. Her porcelain body shivered beginning to heat up. The machine whirred louder. By the third hour her arms were no longer stationary against her dress. Her arms rose up, palms facing the ceiling. Her head tilted back, posing as if she were standing in rain.

   After another few hours later she stood up straight, her hair brushing over her shoulder as she moved. The electric currents still surrounded her. They circled her in multiple colors.

   Suddenly all of the currents swirled the other way going back into the top of the bird cage. It was silent for a moment, then all of the electricity blasted down onto the dolls head and her eyes snapped open. They glowed green. The machine no longer whirred.

   The glowing died down from her eyes as she looked around the room. The old man was still asleep in his bed just across the room. She blinked and looked up. At her height, the cage looked like some sort of strange gazebo. She walked out of it carefully. Her glass legs felt strange to walk in for the first time.

   As the doll wandered around on the old mans crafts table, she gradually grew a sense of consciousness. She realized that she was now alive. The doll looked at her hands. They were small, but shiny. She felt her face and smiled. The doll even began to giggle. A wave of happiness washed over her. The need for adventure, to create, to run around hit her. She put her hands down and looked around the table. The doll noticed the paints and paint brushes the old man had left out.

   The loud head hammering sound of an alarm clock rung throughout the room. 7:00. Time to wake up. The old man sat up suddenly. He banged his fist on the alarm clock upset at its loud ringing. Then he remembered what happened the night before. He looked at the table. The doll was no longer in the machine. The old man jumped out of bed running over to the table and put his hand on his forehead. It worked! That or someone robbed him, but hopefully it worked! He looked around the room. She mustn't have gone far. In fact she shouldn't have been able to leave the table. Unless... The old man quickly looked under the table. Phew, she didn't fall off the table.

   He stood back up and noticed something on the table. There was the picture of a painted flower on the wood. This is what he gets for leaving the paint out. He raised his eyebrows. The doll must have painted these. For a new living soul in this world never been outside and able to draw very detailed flora. Outstanding! He laughed at her extraordinary feat. Now, where is she.

   There was a pile of books just on the upper right corner of the table. The old man adjusted his glasses looking at the pile of books. Very slowly, the porcelain doll peeked out to check if the coast wast clear. The old man saw her and smiled. She gasped and went back behind the books hugging onto her paintbrush.   

   The man sat down in his chair keeping an eye on the books. "It's alright." he spoke. "I'm the one who created you." The doll peeked again. "Come on out. I'd like to meet you." The doll stared at him. She was just five inches tall and he was about six feet tall. He sort of looked like a  monster from this level.

   She slowly walked over hugging her paint brush closely. The old man admired his creation. He suddenly remembered something. "One moment!" he got up and walked over to a small treasure looking chest on one of his shelves. He opened it and took something out.

   He sat back into his chair and opened his hand to the doll. She put down the paint brush and looked into his hand. It was a small necklace with a mini golden heart locket. She smiled at its beauty and put her hands to her face. Her cheeks grew slightly pink. Turns out he didn't need to paint in the blush.

  "Wouldn't that look charming against your lace?" he held it up to her dress. The doll nodded her head and put her arms down so he could put it on her. Once it was on, she twirled around.   

   "Thank you!" She stopped spinning and smiled up at him her blank white eyes looking at him. She had a very tiny soft voice.

   His eyebrows rose when he heard her speak. "You're very welcome."

   The doll giggled dancing around when the old man picked up a small paintbrush from his pile of brushes. "Come here a moment. I believe I still need to paint in your eyes. You look freaky like that", he mumbled the last part to himself. "Pick your favorite color and I'll paint it as your eyes."

   The doll looked at her options and selected the light green. She sat down in front of the old man and kept her eyes open. As carefully as he could, he painted in her eyes making sure they were even. Once he was done she blinked smiling again. "I need to think of a name for you. How does Celia sound?" he figured Celia sounded a little similar to porcelain and thought it was pretty. She nodded in agreement and picked up the paintbrush.

   The doll danced with the brush making colorful swirls along the wooden table that the old man himself had made himself and always carefully kept it clean. He didn't mind though. Today was her first birthday. "Happy Birthday, Celia." He smiled. She danced.

   He was no longer just a toy maker, but an animator.

Le Fin