The Walking Doll

None of us likes to think of our children being exposed to spirits. Yet, with their untrammeled imaginations they are arguably more likely to be open to influences that do not fit into the confines of the adult trained (rather constrained) mind. Part of the price of adulthood is the fear of the unknown and the sometimes irrational fear of exposing our children to those things we cannot understand…

My name is Ibram. That is a bit like an Englishman saying that my name is Smith. I live in Perlis, which is the smallest state in Malaysia. Originally I came from Pahang. I don’t want my parents worrying about me if they read this, so please understand that Ibram is not my real name! I am Malay, and I graduated from University of Science Malaysia (USM) in Penang ten years ago. I worked hard, got married, started a family and then moved with my family into a new house at Kangar, the capital of Perlis.

The new house was quite a nice place, and quite cheap. Butt something happened shortly after we moved in that convinced me that we had bought a haunted house.

The story concerns my daughter. She is now five years old. I bought her a doll for her birthday. One night, after she had gone to bed, she left the doll on a chair in the TV room. My wife and I were watching television. Suddenly, my wife called out to me in alarm.

‘Look at the doll! It is moving.’

 I spun around and looked. Sure enough, the doll’s arms and legs kicked out left and right. Its head tossed from side to side as if it had a sore neck and was trying to lessen the pain. It seemed to jump on to the floor and started to move across the room.

My wife screamed. I was terrified, but I leaped out of my chair and grabbed the doll. I ran through the back door and across the yard. I threw it into the garbage bin. I slammed the lid on the bin and placed a large stone on top of it.

‘That should keep it safe till the garbage men come tomorrow,’ I thought, but I was far from convinced.

I returned to the room to find my wife shaking with fear. Both of us felt quite unsettled. I made doubly sure that I locked the door behind me when I came back in.

‘That won’t do much good,’ suggested my wife, her eyes wide with fear and puzzlement.

‘What else can I do?’ I asked.  ‘I can’t believe what I just saw.’

‘Do you think we need to do anything else?’ she asked.

‘Like what?’ I said and looked at her fondly. I was as frightened as she was.

‘Maybe ask someone who knows about these things to sort it out for us,’ she added. ‘We can’t allow anything to upset our daughter.’

I nodded. ‘She will be upset in the morning when she finds out that her doll has gone,’

We looked at each other for a long time, occasionally glancing toward the back yard as if expecting something terrible to come bursting into the house.

Finally I heaved a sigh. ‘Let’s go to sleep now. I’ll ask around tomorrow and get some advice.’

‘And some help!’ added my wife.

Next morning, my daughter woke early. She came into the lounge room. She looked round the room.

‘Where is my doll?’ she asked.

What could I say? I hate to admit this but I told her a lie. ‘We had to send it to the cleaners as it was getting dirty,’ I said and smiled reassuringly.

‘But she was only new,’ she cried.

‘I know,’ I replied, ‘but you were playing with it in the dirt under the tree yesterday, weren’t you?’

 She pouted, but seemed satisfied.

‘The cleaners won’t hurt her, will they?’ she asked.

‘They wouldn’t dare,’ I said and smiled again.

The first thing I resolved to do was to visit the toy store where I had bought the doll. I wanted buy one just the same. Well, almost the same. I did not want to buy one that walked across the floor!

The next day passed uneventfully. The garbage men came in the morning and I watched as they crossed to the garbage bin and lifted off the heavy rock I had placed on it. Then they emptied the garbage can’s contents into the truck and drove off. I certainly hoped that we had seen the last of the doll.

Immediately the shops were open I drove to the toy store. I looked everywhere in the shop. I could find no dolls that were the same as the one I had bought my daughter.

Panicking just a little, I searched for the owner of the shop.

‘I bought a doll here a week ago,’ I said to the owner, an old Chinese lady. Now Kanga is a small town, and everyone knows everyone else. Certainly, the shop owner remembered me and remembered when I had bought the doll.

‘We have one left, but I put it aside because I wanted to give it to my granddaughter for Chinese New Year,’ she said.

Crestfallen, I was about to thank her and leave, when she must have noticed how upset I was.

‘Is there something wrong?’ she asked kindly.

I nodded and told her what had happened, but omitted to tell her that the doll had jumped off the chair and walked across the room. I just said I had inadvertently thrown the doll out into the garbage. When I had finished, she simply smiled and lifted her hand.

‘I understand perfectly,’ she said. ‘You just wait there and I’ll get it for you.’

I tried to protest but she smiled.

 ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I can find something else for my granddaughter for her gift. After all, I have a toy shop!’

 I thanked her for her kindness and took the doll home, locking it carefully in my brief case.

After my daughter went to bed that night, I put the doll in a place where she would see it first thing the following morning when she woke up.

‘Do you think we will have any more trouble?’ asked my wife as we drank tea and thought about the events f the previous evening.

‘How do I know?’ I asked.

‘Did you ask for any help?’ she continued.

I shook my head. ‘I really don’t know where to start,’ I said. ‘Anyway, who would believe me if I told them what happened?’

‘You might be surprised!’ said my wife and I nodded quietly. After all, everyone knows about strange happenings and ghosts and things.

‘Let’s just wait and see,’ I said.

My wife nodded slowly, unconvinced, but happy to agree with me—for a while at least.

If we thought all of our troubles were over, we were wrong. We sat watching television (OK, what else are we supposed to do in Perlis at night?) when I heard a noise outside the window. I looked up, worried. A young girl was peering through the window.

Puzzled I got up.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

‘Didn’t you hear a noise in the yard? I asked, but she shook her head.

I nodded. ‘I’ll just check to make sure everything is fine,’ I said and walked out of the back door.

The girl turned to look at me. She wore a baju curing was watching me. It surprised me, as it was the sort of dress girls wear in Pahang, my home state.

‘Please ask your wife to come out,’ asked the girl.

I shook my head. ‘No!’ I said and put my fingers to my lips.

She spoke again. This time her voice was louder. ‘Please ask your wife to come out.’

I glanced back into the sitting room. Thankfully, my wife still took no notice. Was she aware of that was happening? She did not seem to be.

I turned to the girl.

‘It is so late at night,’ I said. ‘Why is a young girl like you out so late?’

The young girl simply stared at me and said nothing more. I frowned. This was all so odd. She sighed, turned, and disappeared.

I returned to the house and sat quietly in my chair. My wife paid me no attention. She was engrossed in her TV programmed. She seemed hardly to have noticed what had happened. I said nothing.

My thoughts ran in all directions. What had happened was so odd. Who was the girl? How did she know my wife’s name She had seemed t just disappear? What was happening? Was there a connection between the girl and the dancing doll?

Next morning, I resolved to find someone who could advise me and maybe help with the strange occurrences of the past two nights: the doll and the strange young girl. I was almost convinced she was not ‘human’. Were the two strange occurrences related somehow? I had no idea.

I remembered an Indian friend who had mentioned that he was a medium—a bomoh. I decided to ask him if he could help. I did not want my Malay friends to get worried, nor did I want them to reprimand me for my actions and my fears. So I decided to keep it all hush!

Next morning, everything seemed fine. My daughter was delighted when she saw her doll back in its chair.

‘It is so clean,’ she said. ‘It looks like new.’ For a while she inspected it closely. She looked at me with a puzzled face and I was afraid that she had noticed something different. But eventually she nodded, and cuddled the doll to her.

After she had gone off to school and my wife left for her work, I called my Indian friend and asked him to come over. He promised to come immediately.

He arrived almost immediately and we sat down. He asked me to tell him everything that happened. I told him about the doll and how it moved its arms and legs and even seemed to walk across the floor. He nodded without showing the least bit of surprise. I told him about the strange visit from the young girl, and how she wanted to see my wife.  Once again, he nodded.

‘Let’s go and check around the house. I want to look under the house and everywhere in the garden,’ he said.

‘What are you looking for?’ I asked.

‘I just want to check every corner,’ he said.

I was curious, and followed him into the garden. He looked everywhere. He turned over pots. He lifted some timber up that I had stored under the house awaiting some renovations. He moved to the fence adjoining the vacant lot next door. He stopped. He pointed. There in the tall grass on the other side of the fence was my daughter’s doll.

I was shocked.

‘But I put it in the garbage bin and placed a large stone in top,’ I said. ‘How could it get out?’

‘When it comes to these things,’ he said, ‘we can’t always explain how things happen. It is as if there is another universe that the spirits live in. It does not use the same laws that govern our universe.’

My friend picked up the doll and looked carefully at it. Then he nodded and turned to me and smiled.

‘Things will be fine, my friend,’ he said. ‘Let’s go back inside.’

He asked me to fetch him a bowl of clean water and some fresh limes. He placed the doll on a small table. He placed the bowl of water next to the doll. He sliced the lime, and squeezed some of the juice into the water, stirring it up.  It was all very strange to me. We believe in spirits, but this was all so odd. I hoped my Malay friends were not watching.

He lifted up the bowl and studied it carefully. Then he put it down slowly on the table. He positioned it so that it was leaning against the bowl. He touched the doll. It moved, but I thought maybe it moved because he touched it.

He lifted his hand off the doll, and it seemed to sigh. It sagged and fell into a heap on the table.

He closed his eyes and muttered some words in a tongue I did not understand. His voice was low, grating and quite mysterious. He kept the monotone going for quite some time.

I was getting a little anxious, as my wife would soon be coming back. I tried to say something but he quickly raised his hand in annoyance and indicated that I must stay quiet.

Finally, he stopped his murmuring and opened his eyes. He turned to me.

 ‘This house is haunted by the spirit of a young girl,’ he said. ‘She was attacked and raped. She was so upset by what had happened that she could not get over it. Eventually it all became too much for her to bear, and she took her own life.’

‘Suicide?’ I asked, shocked.

He nodded.

‘When did this happen”, I asked.

‘About five years ago,’ he answered.

‘Where?’

‘In this house,’ he said and looked at me to see how I would react.

No one has ever said anything to me about that,’ I said. ‘You would think they would, wouldn’t you?’

‘Not if they wanted to sell the house,’ he said, but he did not smile.

I took a deep breath. Had I known…

‘Is there anything you can do?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘Just a moment. I need total silence. This won’t take long,’ he said.

He took a purple coloured bottle out of a bag he was carrying. He made some more strange noises that, to be frank with you, scared me. I started to ask what he was doing, but once again he held up his hand and motioned that I should keep silent.

As I watched him, I got more and more worried. He quivered and shook. His face dripped with perspiration. The doll jerked again. I felt a strong breeze and a high pitched whistle, or was it a muted scream? Finally he gave what sounded like a triumphant shout and slammed the cap back onto the bottle, twisting it tightly.

He turned to me and nodded. ‘Everything is fine now,’ he said. ‘I have the spirit of the dead girl in this bottle. I will arrange for it to have a proper burial. She will find peace.’

I was about to point out that she was Malay, but again he held up his hand.

‘It is fine now,’ he said. ‘Someone will arrange for her to be at peace. She will not bother you again.’

‘What about the doll?’ I said.

‘I will take it with me,’ he said. ‘I think that the girl once owned a doll like that – ‘ and he stopped suddenly and leaned towards the bottle on the table as if he was listening again. He nodded and turned back to look at me. ‘Maybe even that one.’

‘But it was new when I bought it,’ I protested.

‘Possibly,’ he replied.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said.

‘Few of us do,’ he replied and smiled gently at me.

I nodded.  ‘One thing makes me curious. Why did she call out for my wife?’

My friend again paused as if he was listening to someone talking to him. He nodded once again. ‘She wanted comfort. She remembered how happy she had been when she had the doll. She did not want to upset your daughter who is so young and so innocent,’ he said. ‘She thought your wife would understand.’

I nodded. ‘Maybe!’ I said. ‘Who knows?’

He paused and looked out into the garden. He walked to the window and stared for a few moments into the sky. After a while, he turned to me. ‘I have good news for you,’ he said gently. ‘You and your wife and daughter and son…’

‘I have no son,’ I said.

‘You will soon!’ he replied and smiled again at me. ‘You will all live happily in this house. As for your daughter’s new doll, she will only move when your daughter plays with her. That is a promise.’

He stood up.

‘How much do I owe you?’ I asked.

He smiled at me. ‘We are friends,’ he said. ‘Let’s have dinner one evening.’

I nodded quietly. Some people are really special. He was one of them.

He left. Would that be the end of things?

 Whatever he did, it worked. We have lived happily in the house ever since. And the new doll only moves when my daughter takes it for a walk! As for the spirit of the poor girl– and her doll—I can only pray that she is at peace.

I also wonder why there is no requirement to tell people about a house’s history. Had we known what had happened, we may not have bought the house. Having said that, I believe that the spirits that bother us can be controlled and that they can find peace. So I suppose that, in the end, it doesn’t really matter.

No wonder the house was so cheap!