When the girls were strangling their Barbies

They were sitting on the front stoop with balls of yellow and blue acrylic yarn tying multiple knots around the necks of Malibu and Shopping Barbie. They'd already hammered away at them with pens and scissors, adding moustaches, inflicting puncture wounds, cutting out bald spots, and removing fingers. As I walked up and asked what they were doing, the dolls were already stripped and the girls had made a point of mutilating the naughty bits.

There was no response, such was their attention to the task. Once they'd managed to wind and knot the yarn around the Barbie necks they strung them up over the railing around the front step landing, one holding the yarn and the other tugging and swinging the stiff-legged arms akimbo doll. It didn't take them long to tire of this, so they moved out onto the front yard, each with a doll trailing behind.

Georgie figured out first that you could whirl the doll over your head like a helicopter, or like a David and Goliath slingshot, but she would have had no idea of that. Whatever, kids like to spin, and so she started to spin fast, and as she lifted her arms Barbie began to levitate and fly. Stephi caught on quick and they were, the two of them spinning and screeching around the yard with the Barbies flying around over their. They tried to smash one into the other, they released them and flung them to the sidewalk. Then they ran down the block shrieking and spinning. They bashed the dolls into trees and sidewalks and curbs.

The fun stopped when Stephi came back with her string and no Barbie, pouting. She hund it down the storm sewer and lost it there. Before she could string up another one Georgie ran back onto the yard yelling, "She's dead, she's dead! Let's bury her!"

I watched them run to the flower bed in the back. I watched them find Sharon's weeding and digging tools and excavate the grave. I watched them find cardboard and tape and make a coffin. I watched them and didn't say a word.

As far as they were concerned that man sitting on the deck reading his book and drinking his whisky was unconnected to their affairs. As far as they were concerned, killing Barbies was no business of mine. As far as they were concerned I didn't care.

For the most part they were right. Except that I could feel it then, when they were digging, then coffining, then shoving dirt on the bruised and bound plastic effigy. Then I felt that thumping darkness in my chest. Then I thought about running into the garage to pick up the tape and the spade. Then I thought: had I passed this on to the girls?

Ride report

in: -2'C wind 10 ks SE

out: 2'C wind 5 ks NW