The Doll: Part 2

    Leon stared at the long bunches of light brown hair on the floor with a peculiar fascination.  His hair.  Souma trimmed a little more toward the back and let the clippings settle on the towel he had draped around Leon's shoulder.

    "I'm sorry," Souma said and ran his fingers through the freshly cut hair to check for uneven strands.

    "Why?"

    "I didn't want to cut off your hair but..." Souma said..  "The length of it was so unusual that people would notice it and remember it even more if you were seen."

    Souma leaned down and kissed Leon on top of his head. Leon spun around and looked up at him with a wide-eyed admiration.

    "I don't mind," Leon said with a smile.  "As long as I can be with you, I don't mind anything at all."

    Souma nodded and unwound the towel.  He carefully folded the towel in half to seal the hair into the crease.  Leon leapt off the stool and looked into a frameless mirror that had been wedged carelessly into the wall over the sink in the bathroom that doubled as the kitchen sink in the studio apartment. Leon smiled and touched the back of his head where his hair once had been.

    "I like it," Leon said and turned sideways to see his own side profile.  "I like it, papa."

    "It's Edward," Souma said.  "You have to remember not to call me papa anymore."

    Leon rushed forward and startled Souma when he threw his arms around him.

    "I like my haircut very much, Edward," Leon said and kissed Souma on his cheek.  Leon's smile dimmed and he frowned.

    "You are sad..."

    Souma smiled sadly and nodded.  "I'm sad that I've taken you out of a comfortable world and put you in this one..."

    Souma glanced around the dilapidated studio apartment, taking in the water-stained walls and ceiling and the bare mattress that was their bed on the floor.  The wooden floor which had covered half of the apartment was deeply gouged with ages of ground-in dirt.  Half of the building had been rented out to drug users or drinkers who needed a place to get stoned or get drunk in peace.  They had been there for nearly a week and Souma had only left the apartment twice to beg for money from his distant relatives who did not know his troubles. 

    "I'm sad that I couldn't give you anything more than this..."

    Leon blinked, mystified by Souma's confessions.  

    "But I am happy to be with you, Edward.  No matter where we are."

    Souma kissed Leon on his forehead and drew him into his arms.  He breathed in the soft scent of Leon's hair and it soothed some of the pain in his chest.  He held Leon close in his embrace, careful to rest Leon's head against his shoulder so he could not see him cry again.

   

    After a day and half of looking at Leon's files, I asked Ishigami not to show me any more.  If I see just one more, I think I might end up quitting.  I wondered briefly if I would feel the slightest hint of guilt or just simply felt bad to have to take back a pretty little doll back into being used and abused by anonymous men.  

    Before I was able to slip out of the building and start on the case, a young man who identified himself as Crawford's assistant told me Crawford wanted to have lunch with me.  I didn't want to hear any more of Crawford's theories on his Dolls but the young man was quite convincing with his perfect smile and twinkling blue eyes.  

    "Would you be there?" I asked.

    He looped his right arm through my left and steered me toward the executive elevator.

    "I could be," he said with a very practice bedroom voice.  

    "What kind of assisting do you do for him?" I asked.

    He laughed.  They sounded like little bells. Very cute and pleasant.

    "Minor paperwork, escort duties," he said as he inserted a card he fished out of his pocket to key the private elevator.  

    "How long have you been here doing this?" 

    The elevator arrived swiftly.  When the door opened, the young man slid the card out of the slot and placed it back into his pocket.  He urged me into the elevator.  As soon as we stepped in, the car lit up to glass and marble in every inch of floor and wall.  A chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling.

    "A couple of months," he said.  "Mr. Crawford usually keeps someone like me around for about six months before I'm replaced."

    "Replaced with...?"

    He stroked my hand and didn't answer.

    "My name's Paris," he finally said.

    Then we were quiet again.  

    "Replaced with another Doll?" I said.  I sensed no reaction from him when I said it.

    "Yes," he said.  "Another Doll."

    With my free hand, I touched his face.  He watched me with child-like interest, but said nothing and did nothing.  His skin was soft and warm and alive.  The wonderfully clear blue eyes were full of life and intelligence.  Then the images of Leon's test sessions came to mind and suddenly I was repulsed by my attraction to Paris.  I dropped my hand and looked away.

    "I've displeased you," Paris said.  The grip he had on my arm loosened.  He was ready to distant himself from me.

    "No," I said.  "I am displeased with myself."

    "Why?"

    I looked at him and gave him a smile. 

    "Because I am strange," I said.

    He didn't agree or disagree with me.  He simply fell silent with his arm loosely hung in mine.  We didn't speak again until the elevator came to a stop and opened to Crawford's private suite.  Paris led me out of the elevator and through a couple of hallways, until we came to the dining room.  Crawford sat on one end of the long, polished marble table with his back to the window.  Another plate setting was to his right.  Paris walked me toward it and seated me.

    "I didn't think you would be letting Dolls run around in the open," I said as soon as Paris left the room.

    "Likes of Paris are replaceable.  Their programmings' basic and their functions' not as stressful as Leon's."

   "Not stressful? I would assume that he's made beautiful to have sex with."

   "He does that," Crawford said.  "But his partners' carefully selected and predicable in their needs.  Paris could not leave this building even if he or his user would ever have the desire to run off."

   "How so?"

   "There's a chip in their CPU that will prompt a shut down if they step out of the building."

   "Then Leon's not physically functional," I said. 

   Crawford shrugged.  "He was not equipped with a fail-safe."

   Before I could ask my next question, the maids came with the lunch properly carried on silver trays.  We said nothing as our glasses were filled with red wine and served steak.

   "Besides the fact that he was the first and most complete Doll you have in your inventory, why is he special to you?" I asked when we were left alone again.

   "Why is anyone special to someone?" He said.  "He had been the very foundation of my father's dream, if you will.  And now, he is mine.  Nostalgia, if you want a word for it.  I'm sentimental."

   "Would you want him if he had become something else?"

   "Something else...? You mean, if Souma had managed to pollute his mind with silly notions that he should feel sad or angry, and dismiss the fact that he is a machine?"

   "Something like that."

   "Yes," Crawford said after a few moment's thought.  "It does not change the fact that he's my property.  Now, I ask you if you would bring him back to me if Leon had asked you not to."

   "You're paying me for the job, not him."

   Crawford broke into a smile and laughed. 

   "Good answer," he said and ate a wedge of steak he had cut.

   "Why wasn't he equipped with fail-safe?"

   He chewed on the meat for a moment and washed it down with a sip of wine. 

   "When a Doll's fail-safe trips, they lose all memories stored inside them.  It's nearly an equivalent of a death for them.  It's a problem that we could not fix for the time being."

   "And you would rather risk losing Leon in its entirety rather than just lose the information he has stored."

   "The information and the knowledge Leon hold inside his CPU is the Leon that I want.  His memories is the archive of 20 years of my father and my struggles.  Essentially, he holds the memories of a portion of my life.  And I think I've always loved him since the day I saw him in the lab.  A thing that was born beautiful and graceful...."

   "His love is artificial," I said and sipped the wine.

   "It does not matter.  It's an illusion that I would gladly live in."

   "You would not delete his memories if he came back....polluted?"

   He wrinkled his nose and looked at me as if I was insane to even ask the question.

   "Of course not."

   "Even if he might be capable of hate?"

   Crawford cut another wedge off his steak and speared it through his fork. 

   "I can make him love me," he said and ate the steak.

   I laughed softly and drank some more wine.

   "You find my theories amusing?" He asked in a curious tone.

   "In the way that what you say and what you do here in this building is contradictory."

   He waved his empty fork at me and shook his head.

   "I am very fond of him," he said.  "He happens to be an investment but my feelings are quite genuine.  Even if the love he return to me would be artificial and mere words programmed into his vocabulary."

   He pointed at my untouched steak with his knife.  "Why are you not eating?"

   I poured myself another glass of wine from the crystal decanter.  "I don't eat lunch," I said and raised the glass to him in a quick salute.  "I drink."

   He didn't seem to take offense and continued to work on his steak.

   "What are you planning to do first?" He asked. 

   "I have some leads from my street rats," I said.  "I also have informants staking out on Souma's family and his usual contacts.  If he hasn't already, he would be without funds and resources soon.  Even if he didn't care about his living condition, he's bound to break down and solicit help to take care of Leon."

   Crawford dabbed at his mouth with the embroidered linen napkin and pushed himself away from the table.  He looked through the window and into the mid-day city below him.

   "If Souma had been kind to Leon, then give him a quick death," he said finally.  "If Leon had been hurt in any way, bring Souma back to me and I will kill him myself in my own way."

   "I don't think you will need to get involved with the killing," I said and swirled the crimson wine in the long stem glass.  "I doubt Souma would hurt him."

   Crawford sighed and I saw his shoulders slacken.

   "I miss him," he finally said.  "Get him back to me soon, Mr. Redfield."

 

    The pounding at the door was startling and loud.  It rattled the door so horribly that Souma thought the harsh pounding it was receiving would rip the rusty hinges off the door and send the entire door down on the ground.  Souma held Leon as his eyes darted around the room to look for a way out, even though he knew there weren't any.  The apartment was four floors up in the mangy building and the fire escape stairs had long rusted and fallen away.  The only weapon he had was a pair of scissors he had used to cut Leon's hair and a small steak knife he had found in one of the drawers.

    "It's okay," Souma said into Leon's ear.  "I'm not going to let anyone take you." 

    "Open up, you son of a bitch! I know you are home!" The voice outside the door roared.

    Souma recognized the voice.  It was the burly, unkempt man whom he had rented the apartment from.  He never knew the man's name, except he looked like a drunken bulldog, with his unfixed broken nose and his wild, wide-eyes that were always blood shot.

    "Open up or I'll fucking kick the goddamn door in!"

    "Leon, go into the bathroom and lock the door," Souma said with a forced smile.  "No matter what happens, don't come out until I tell you to."

    Leon shook his head.  "Something terrible will happen..."

    "Leon," Souma said in a raised voice.  "Do what papa said."

    Leon bit down on his lower lip then finally scrambled off to the bathroom.  Souma listened for the small click of the door lock before he willed himself to move and opened the door.

    "Son of a bitch," bulldog said as soon as Souma opened the door.  "You don't ever keep me waiting!"

    Bulldog grabbed a handful of Souma's shirt and held him up as he slapped him twice.  Souma's glasses flew off and clattered to the floor.  For a moment bulldog looked at it, contemplating if he should stomp on it for good measures.  He decided to do it before he leave for a more memorable exit.  

    "Where's my money?"

    "I...I need more time..." Souma whispered.  The coopery scent filled his nose and a thin trickle of blood was dripping out of his nose and dotting his shirt but he was too paralyzed in bulldog's grasp to wipe it away.  

    "You had a fucking week," bulldog screamed as he shook Souma, rattling him like a rag doll.  "You think I'm running some kind of fucking shelter here?"

    "I swear -- " Souma began.  He was abruptly cut off with another slap across his face.

    "You swear what?" Bulldog said.  "I'm going to cut you up and sell your sorry body parts --"

    Bulldog froze.  Through his blurred vision, Souma saw bulldog staring at something...or someone in the room.  Sudden burst of energy rushed through Souma's limbs and he kicked at bulldog, planting a foot into his thick belly.  Bulldog barely felt it and only became annoyed.  He threw Souma to the side and gestured for Leon to come to him.

    "Leon, don't come here --"

    Bulldog growled and kicked Souma's mid-section hard enough to make him curl up in a fetal position and breathless with pain.

    "You shut the hell up or I'll stomp the shit out of you!"

    Leon stared at Souma, his eyes wide and confused.

    "Come here sweetheart," bulldog said and opened his arms.

    "Please don't hurt papa..." Leon finally said.  

    "Papa, eh?" Bulldog laughed.  "I'd never think you could have fathered this gorgeous piece of ass, old man.  He looks like a virgin.  Is he? Maybe a ride through his pure, undriven snow will settle what you owe me from last week..." 

    "Please don't -- " Souma whispered hoarsely. 

    "I don't think you are in any position to negotiate, old man.  Shut the hell up or I'll really kick your goddamn teeth in." Bulldog said then smiled at Leon. "Sweetie, come to me and I won't hurt papa."

    Leon stared at him.  For a moment, he could not comprehend the order given to him.  He waited for Souma to speak, but he didn't.  He walked toward them, his steps small and uncertain.  

    "That's it, come to papa..." bulldog said and laughed.  "Old man, you can stay here as long as you like rent-free.  Fuck, I'll even refrain from kicking the shit out of you once in a while.  Leon...is it? He'll do just fine.  Me and my boys will take real good care of him."

    Souma forced himself to uncurl and rolled to the side so he can bring himself up to his knees.  There were spots in his vision and he still could not breathe properly.  The stinging pain in his ribs told him one or two might be cracked or broken where bulldog had kicked him.  He opened his mouth to speak but he all he could sputter were dry rasps.

    Leon came to Souma and helped him up to his feet.  Souma coughed and wiped at the blood that had collected at the corner of his nose.

    "Papa..."

    "L...Leon..."

    "Tell me what to do, papa..." Leon's voice was panicked.

    "Le..Leon...run..away...."

    Bulldog pulled Leon away by his arm. The sudden harsh motion of it made Leon wince.  

    "Come on sweetheart," bulldog said as he pulled Leon along behind him.  "We've got a long, romantic night ahead of us."

    Souma gathered a final surge of energy he could summon and rushed at bulldog.  He would have succeeded tackling bulldog if he had moved faster and had more momentum.  Bulldog's bulk merely stumbled but he did not fall.  His grip on Leon's arm loosen enough for Leon to pull his arm back.

    "You stupid son of a bitch!" Bulldog screamed.  He jabbed Souma once at his left temple and he went down.  "I told you to stay the fuck out of my way!"

    Bulldog kicked him as he yelled, delivering a kick for each word he said.  By the end of the sentence, Souma had stopped moving.  

    "Goddamn it..." bulldog hissed and spat at Souma's unconscious body.  He suddenly remembered Leon and looked for him.  Leon had shrank against the door way, his eyes wet with tears as he stared at Souma.

    "Come on," bulldog said and grabbed Leon by his arm.  Leon planted himself firmly where he was crouching and shook his head.  He wanted to stay with Souma.

    "You want me to hurt you?"

    Leon did not move.  Bulldog sighed and picked up Leon by his waist, easily tucking him under his arm and carried him like a small animal.  Leon screamed incoherently, his nails gouged at bulldog's arm and left long red lines of broken skin.  Bulldog grimaced.

    "I'm gonna have to educate you on how to serve a man, darling," he said as he descended down the stairs toward his own apartment.             

End Part 2

Go to Part 3