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Poppa sat at the bedside of his daughter, holding her hand. Her eyes hadn’t opened in at least a half hour, not since the three quacks he he had hired that squabbled about her illness had left. They had done nothing but disagree, yell, and question her repeatedly, and finally tell her that she would die before morning in her condition, until he realized they were doing more harm than good. Poppa looked down at her, and was relieved when her eyes fluttered open. “Poppa” she whispered hoarsely, are they gone?”
“They’re gone chick, he said, patting her hand” “can you sit up?” There was silence until Marcella slightly raised her head from the pillow, then let it drop, and poppa realized that she was too weak to get up on her own. He helped her to sit up. It was true that she was weak on ordinary days, before the sickness, always having breathing troubles and difficulty with things like balance, but she still had managed to get up and do things in her own way, despite not being able to work. Scouts from the sewing factory had come to inquire why she wasn’t working, but once they saw her, they had relented and allowed her to stay home. That was years ago, however. Now the illness had taken her normal cheeriness and replaced it with fear. Sadness. But he could tell that she didn’t want him to see. He pulled himself out of his thoughts.
“How are you feeling?” Marcella leaned against his shoulder. “Awful” she stated, matter of factly. “Like my 21st birthday, but worse. “My head is burning, and my heart is cold”
Poppa remembered that day. Marcella, in her excitement, had drank a cup of the wine he had saved from his and her mothers wedding, and had promptly thrown it up out the window of their shack. She had spent the rest of the night in bed. Marcella’s mother had left when she was a baby, and poppa thought it was lucky that she had no memory of it. Mhm” he said. Suddenly, he remembered something and turned towards the box where he kept his sewing scraps, and hid the thing he pulled from the box behind his back. “Close your eyes” he commanded Marcella, before dropping the thing into her arms. Marcella opened her eyes when she felt the thing in her hands and she looked down. In her hands was a large rag doll, with red rosy cheeks, large button eyes and a thickly painted triangle nose and smile. She wore a dark blue dress, which the fabric Marcella recognized from an old dress she had long grown out of, and white drawers and an odd pointed apron trimmed with lace and old tablecloth tassels. Her legs were red and white stripes, and half of her legs were made of black to look like boots. Her hair was magenta colored yarn, and an old wooden spool had been sewn to one strap of her apron. Marcella hugged the doll as hard as she could. She wasn’t sure why, but she needed to. “Oh poppa” she said, her voice muffled against the dolls head, “what’s her name?”
Poppa stopped for a second and watched his daughter’s tight grip on the doll, as if she was holding it to stop from drowning. He hadn’t thought about naming the doll, but he supposed she should have one. He said the first thing that came up in his mind. Raggedy Ann” he said. Marcella smiled and pulled the doll out of the hug to look at it. “Raggedy Ann” she said, smoothing the dolls’ clothes. Poppa decided to have a little fun, and poked the doll. “She has a group of friends, you know. And they all jump up when you sleep!” And poppa jumped up and did a half jig across the floor. Marcella clapped and laughed until she began to choke, and poppa regained his seriousness and patted her back until she was able to breathe normally again. “But, she has no heart!” Said Marcella, once she had caught her breath. Poppa considered this. “It’s inside, you can’t see mine! Or yours!” At Marcella’s sad look, he went to the candy box on the stove that had been given to him by a neighbor, and fished around until he found a sugar heart. He came back to Marcella, and sewed the heart to the dolls apron strap. “There” he said. “Now she’s got a heart. Plenty of heartstrings too, to live a long time. Do you know what that says” Marcella looked at him with slight annoyance. Of course, she could read it. But when she went to read it aloud, the letters swam.
Poppa saw she needed help and read it himself. “I love you” he read. And Marcella smiled.
“Now, get some sleep. It’s the one thing those doctors said that makes any sense”
Marcella laid back down. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she squeezed the doll, lifting it to her face. The smell of lavender perfume filled her nose, and a woman’s face seemed to appear beneath her eyelids. She shook the memory away as she fell asleep.
Poppa turned away from her and went out the front door of the shack. He closed the door behind him, and after taking a few steps, dropped to his knees in the dirt, sobbing. “You up there! He said, suddenly getting angry. “You let my kid live! She’s lived this long! I’ll be damned if you take her away from me now! I’ll pull your beard out you old goat! Do you hear me! I’ll-
Please” and he stayed there, staring at the sky until he heard Marcella crying in her sleep.