The Doll Maker

As they pulled up to the small shop slowly, chills ran down Mr Doyle's spine, and Mrs Doyle squirmed with excitement. "What should we name this one Henry? I like the name Jacob. Isn't that a nice name? Oh I wonder how old this one is going to be.. I dunno I kind of want a baby. Or a young toddler. That'd be wonderful." She turned off the van and turned around to look at the doll she had in the back "Now, Mommy's just going inside for a little bit, dear. Stay quiet and Mommy and Daddy will be right back, okay?" she blew a kiss at the doll and stepped out of the vehicle.

Mr Doyle wondered if his wife knew that the dolls weren't real.. She had to know on some level that a child couldn't be built. Had he let her get out of hand? He put his hand on the roof of the van and said "Erm... Molly?"
"Yes?" she chirped back, standing impatiently, glancing at the shop that looked dusty and old even on the outside.
"Well... this may sound stupid... But you do know that.. Well, the dolls..."
"What, Henry? Spit it out."
Just then the shop door flew open to reveal a small old man with a very long nose that had old fashioned glasses perched on it.
"Mr and Mrs Doyle! My best and most prized customers! I have something special, very special for you today. Come in, come in." he rasped. Mrs Doyle bounded forward gleefully. "I am so excited! I absolutely LOVE all the children you've given us so far.They always behave."

Okay. So she thinks they're real. This can't be good..

He chuckled lightly "Well I think you're going to like this one for sure." Mrs Doyle gripped Mr Doyle's arm and explained "He said that this one looks like us. Like our child would!"
He forced a smile and hoped it looked good.
"I am glad to hear that, Mr O'Neil" he said to the doll maker as they stepped into the shop.

Mr Doyle hated this shop. Bits and pieces of dolls, unfinished dolls, and glass eyes were strewn about. Shelves crammed full of feet and arms. Another with legs and hands, one with heads and torsos and so on. Mr Doyle always left it feeling relieved while Mrs Doyle always whined about the 'children' they had left behind. To her the place was an orphanage. A place she could adopt hopes for her lost dreams and rescue a child. It was a sort of sanctuary kind of thought for her, Mr Doyle supposed. Still, he didn't like it...

He was brought back by Mrs Doyle's grip growing tighter on his arm with her excitement. Mr O'Neil was busy in the back room looking for one file or another. It was actually a complicated process, buying one of his dolls. But they were used to it. Mrs Doyle loved coming here to add to her... family.

Mr Doyle peered down at Mr O'Neil. The old man was flicking through the files in his cabinet drawer at the speed of light looking or theirs. After all the visits they had made to him you would think that he would just keep theirs at the front but he insisted on keeping them in alphabetical order. Finally, he came to theirs and pulled it out. He tossed it onto the counter, towards Mrs Doyle and said "Just fill it out, I'm assuming you know the process. I'l go get your new child." Mr Doyle frowned. He didn't like Mr O'Neil encouraging his wife's delusions. He watched as she hurriedly filled out the form.

When she was about halfway done, Mr O'Neil appeared out from the hallway cradling what looked like a blanket in his arms. The Mrs ran over to him and he gently handed her the bundle. She walked over to him and whispered for him to move the blanket away from where the doll's head would be. He did so and gasped at what he saw while Mrs Doyle squealed in joy.

The doll looked perfectly life-like, and not only that, but it looked exactly like the both of them. It looked as though it could breathe. Mr Doyle reached out to touch the doll's face and Mrs Doyle quickly stepped back "No! You'll wake our baby!" she hissed and clutched it to her chest. Mr Doyle nodded, not wanting a public dispute.

For the first five days they had that doll, Mr Doyle watched it carefully, though he was not sure why. It was just a doll. But Mrs Doyle was so obsessed with it, even more than the others, that he figured there had to be something special about this particular doll. The only thing he could figure out was that this one was porcelain and when you laid it down it closed its eyes. That was all that he could see...