The Story of the First Doll

A  cold  December  wind  was  blowing  and  Teresa  Osborne  crossed  her  arms  as  she  stared  out  over  the  water.  She  was  alone  on  the  beach.  The  ocean,  reflecting  the  color  of  the  sky,  looked  like  liquid  iron,  and  waves  rolled  up  steadily  on  the  shore.  She'd  driven  here  this  morning  when  she'd  made  the  decision  to  come.  She'd  planned  to  stay  overnight.

She'd  made  the  arrangements  and  had  even  looked  forward  to  a  quiet  night  away  from  Boston.  But  watching  the  ocean,  she  realized  that  she  didn't  want  to  stay.  She  wanted  to  drive  home  as  soon  as  she  was  finished.  When  she  was  finally  ready,  teresa  slowly  started  to  walk  toward  the  water.  Beneath  her  arm  she  carried  a  bag  that  she  had  carefully  packed  that  morning,  making  sure  that  she  hadn't  forgotten  anything.

She  hadn't  told  anyone  what  she  carried  with  her.  She  hadn't  told  them  what  she'd  intended  to  do  today  either.  Instead,  she'd  said  that  she  was  going  Christmas  shopping.  It  was  the  perfect  excuse,  and  this  trip  was  something  she  didn't  want  to  share  with  anyone.  It  had  started  with  her  alone,  and  that  was  the  same  way  she  wanted  it  to  end.

Theresa  sighed  and  checked  her  watch.  Soon  it  would  be  high  tide,  and  then  she  would  finally  be  ready.  After  finding  a  spot  on  a  small  dun  that  looked  comfortable,  she  sat  in  the  sand  and  opened  her  bag.  Searching  through  it,  she  found  the  envelope  she  wanted.  There  were  three  letters  in  it,  carefully  folded  letters  that  she'd  read  many  times.

Holding  them  in  front  of  her,  she  sat  on  the  sand  and  stared  at  them.  He  had  used  a  fountain  pen  when  he'd  written  them,  and  there  were  smudges  in  various  places  where  the  pen  had  leaked.  The  paper,  with  its  picture  of  a  sailing  ship  in  the  upper  right  hand  corner,  was  beginning  to  discolor  in  places,  fading  slowly  with  the  passage  of  time.  She  knew  there  would  come  a  day  when  the  words  would  be  impossible  to  read,  but  hopefully  after  today  she  wouldn't  feel  the  need  to  look  at  them  so  often.  When  she  finished,  she  slipped  them  back  into  the  envelope  as  carefully  as  she'd  removed  them.

Then,  after  putting  the  envelope  back  into  the  bag,  she  looked  at  the  beach  again.  From  where  she  was  sitting,  she  could  see  the  place  where  it  had  all  started.