*Voices*
by Charles L. Harness
       Human creations sometimes find uses other than the ones they were designed for....
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       The man had come up into the attic in search of a last-minute star for the top of the tree. He didn't think he would find it. He didn't believe he had stored it here. But she had insisted that he look, and it was best to humor her. She had fully recovered from her surgery but she still had to contend with radiation and hair loss, and they still slept in separate beds. He needed to say something, do something. But what? He shook his head and pulled the cord for the attic lights and looked around.
       Some of the boxes were tied with string and labeled in her delicate handwriting. None of those. Moving on down. Ancient holo, obsolete computer, autophone. All mantled with dust. Books, family memorabilia. Toys. He stopped. Maybe it had gotten mixed in ... Let's see. Take a look at the top box. Lid just folded over ... not tied up ... not taped. Could be.
       Well, look at this. Toy soldier? No, he remembered now. A cowboy. Packed in with a girl doll. He had gotten them for his son. The boy -- now grown up and gone away. Ah, takes me back. Let's get them out, take a closer look.
       The cowboy was about twelve inches tall, the girl a little less. There had once been a horse for the cowboy, but it had long vanished into the rough-and-tumble play of boyhood. Only a very beat-up saddle was left. The girl had endured even worse usage. She had no almost no hair. Her skull had been stripped nearly bare. As if to accentuate the lack, a miniature comb was stuck in the last forlorn strand.
       The man considered the pair curiously. He picked up the cowboy doll, turned it over, felt between the shoulder blades, found the switch. He hesitated, then flipped the switch. After a moment the doll's eyes lit up. My goodness, thought the man. After all this time. Eternies -- great batteries!
       Let's see. Tex. We called you Tex. He laid the doll aside, picked up the girl, pressed a switch on her back. Her eyes lit up. Marie. Of course.
       He tried to think back. How long ago had he and his son used the dolls in a play? That had been a lot of fun. Those plays ... you would feed the little mannequins a scene, a few lines, and they would take it from there. Given a suitable story line, they could produce some odd twists. They had brains the size of walnuts, but packed with several billion microtransistors. They were immobile but could see, hear, talk. They were in effect talking heads. Now long obsolete, replaced by mobile life-sized humanoid robots. Still, in their day, Tex and Marie had been his son's most cherished toys.
       He placed them on the floor facing each other. Does it still work? he wondered. What can we conjure up? He recalled past scenarios, with Marie on a runaway horse, her golden hair flying, and Tex racing to the rescue. Or that scene where Marie is held hostage by the bad guys, her hair gleaming in the campfire, and Tex comes galloping up. All by audio, of course. Nothing really moving. You used your imagination. But it seemed to work.
       He thought a moment. What story line could these two come up with? It would have to take into account that Tex had no horse and Marie had no hair. Hardly fair. The dolls might declare data error and refuse to play. Still, in the past the programmers had shown considerable ingenuity. So let's see.
       He said quietly, "Tex, Marie ... do you hear me?"
       After a moment he heard the whispery voices. "We hear you."
       He said, "Look her over, Tex. And you take a good look at him, Marie. You've got this beat-up saddle, Tex, but no horse. And Marie, you have this ornamental plastic comb, but no hair." He studied them thoughtfully. "Here's the story. You two are deeply in love. The year is 1890... in Fort Worth ... it's Christmas." He paused. "Gifts ... you should exchange gifts. Your own ideas ... decide as you go along. Give me a running account."
       After a moment the girl doll spoke in a tiny voice. "Me first? Okay, I take him by the arm. I say, _C'mon, I want to show you something. It's in the barn."_
       Tex now speaks in thin reedy tones: "_But ... I..."_
       Marie said, "I pull him along the snow-dusted path, I open the barn door. We are inside. _Voila! _I declare. It's his old saddle, but obviously it has been repaired and refinished."
       Tex speaks now. "I approach, examine it in awe. I run my hand over the leather. _Real pigskin?_ I mutter."
       Marie: _The finest Mexican leather.... all completely rebuilt._
       Tex: _And bigger? The skirt is measured to fit Ranger?_
       Marie: _He's a big horse. Where is he?_
       Tex: _And wow, look at this ... stirrups, horn, cinch ring ... all silver!_
       Marie:_ Merry Christmas, darling!_
       Tex: I gurgle something, grab her, hold her. Eventually she disengages.
       Marie: _You want to try it out on Ranger? Where is he?_
       Tex: _Uh ... Ranger ... I ... ah ... lent him to ... Murphy._ I take a deep breath. _But never mind that._ I pull a small flat package from the depths of my jacket and hand it to her.
       Marie: I hold the package for a moment.
       Tex: _Well, I guess you'd better open it?_
       Marie: _Yes._ With deft motions of my hands and fingers I untie the ribbons.
       Tex: Meanwhile I have been examining her head, which is wrapped in a turban which completely conceals her long beautiful hair.
       Marie: I pause, look up, smile uncertainly, then I open the box. I gasp. The comb is dazzling.
       Tex: I say modestly, _The little stones, real diamonds._ Meanwhile I am running my hands along the back of her neck. I add evenly, _Marie, what happened to your hair?_
       Marie: I cannot reply. I bury my face in his chest.
       Tex: _You sold it? Your beautiful golden hair? To pay for the saddle?_
       Marie: I nod, and whisper, _It'll grow back... _After a time l look up. I have a sudden insight. _Where'd you get the money for my comb?_
       Tex: I am silent.
       Marie: _You sold Ranger._
       Tex: No reply.
       Marie: _Oh. Tex! You magnificent idiot! How could you?_
       Tex: _Because you are absolutely the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I love you very much._ I pick her up, carry her out of view. I whisper, _Merry Christmas, darling._ The action fades.
       The lights in the doll-eyes dimmed, went dark, and there was silence.
       The man sat there a long time, thinking. Neither horse nor hair, just each other. Sounds like something out of 0. Henry. Hmm. He packed the dolls away, got up slowly, turned off the light.
       She was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. She could see that he didn't have the tree ornament.
       He sat down on the top stair and looked down at her.
       "What?" she said, looking up, puzzled.
       "I just wanted to say..."
       She frowned and adjusted her spectacles.
       He smiled. "Just wanted to say I think you are absolutely the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I love you very much." He started down the stairs.
       She began to blush. With nervous fingers she adjusted her wig.
       As he lifted her up in his arms he whispered, "Merry Christmas, darling."
       

Copyright (C) 2002 by Charles L. Harness.