By Abigail Falanga
Kristen yawned and answered the doorbell—fuzzy pink robe and all. A smiling, thin, sharp-nosed man in a garish suit stood on her mat.
“Good morning!” His grin grew even wider. “I represent Catharsis Effigies Inc., and I’d like to interest you in our one-of-a-kind product.”
“Sorry.” Kristen shifted to close the door. “I have a really full day.”
“I won’t take up more than one minute of your time!” The door-to-door salesman reached into his case and pulled out a doll as sharp-nosed as he, though in a better suit. “Take this, ma’am. Feel the excellent detailing. The specially-formulated resistant silicon, with enough give to provide full satisfaction.”
The doll was over a foot long, lanky and lifelike, with a texture between a stress ball and a cantaloupe.
“What is it?”
“An effigy.”
Kristen leaned against the doorpost, looking the doll over. “It does look kinda like my boss, Steve.”
“Yes, ma’am! That is a sample, meant for you and you only. Hold on to—ahem—Steve. If you are pleased with the product, payment is due at sundown.”
“But—”
“Under a minute, as promised, ma’am! Thank you for giving me a listen.”
He sauntered down the sidewalk under the too-cheery Saturday sun.
The more Kristen looked at the doll, the more it looked like her boss. Same bald spot, same scruffy five o’clock-shadow, same smug expression. She shook her head and set it down on the hall table.
Then, she went about her day.
After breakfast, Kristen patted the effigy on her way upstairs for a shower.
Halfway through laundry, she caught the figure giving the smirk Steve sometimes gave her, throwing off her rhythm mid-task. She turned its face to the wall.
Kristen caught up on dishes and tidied the house before she passed the hall table again.
“How’s that for getting stuff done, huh? Productive morning so far, don’t you think?”
She flipped the effigy around, only to meet that dismissive sneer. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Never satisfied with anything.”
Makeup, then shoes, and Kristen headed for the door to run errands and meet girlfriends for lunch.
“See? I do have an actual life,” she told the effigy as she grabbed her keys on the way out. She smacked its head to drive in her point. It felt kind of good.
But she struggled to focus on errands. Lunch was worse. She and her friends competed to top each other’s weekly struggles, and she realized how many of hers were the direct result of her boss’s dumb choices.
The effigy’s face wouldn’t leave her mind.
Finally, with at least two more errands to run, she found herself returning home.
“I’m tired,” she reasoned. “A nap sounds good.”
The figure looked so much like Steve that Kristen couldn’t help slapping it against the table as she lugged in groceries. “Made me redo that report three times…”
The nap didn’t last. She couldn’t keep her eyes closed, couldn’t find a comfortable position. Finally, she decided she wasn’t all that tired and got up. Weekends are only so long. Still lots to do before getting back to the rat race, the grind, the boss.
Kristen glared at the effigy. “I can’t even look you in the eye at work. You make me so sick—you never listen. The stress is burning me up.”
She hit it, twice. Then she pulled herself away and got on with life.
Half an hour later, vacuuming the floor, she growled, “You’re a jerk, Steve. You ignore every suggestion I make, then blame me when something goes wrong. You’re always gaslighting, and—” She flicked the thing in the face and gave the arm a twist. “I can’t say anything! So I lie, and lie, and lie.”
Kristen tried to stay away, get on with her Saturday, distract herself with social media, TV, vacation plans.
But still she wandered back to the effigy. “I’d look prettier if I smiled, huh? Look better in that short dress. Don’t tell about when you nudged my behind.”
Oh, why the hell not? It is cathartic, after all.
She picked up the Steve effigy. Punched it, hard. Hit it, twisted it, hurled every insult back at it. Vented her anger, released pent-up bitterness at years of aggression, manipulation. Everything she’d swallowed but couldn’t let go.
The effigy dented, bounced back.
Yeah. She’d keep it. She’d pay whatever. This felt too good to stop.
She found a needle from the knitting neglected with all that overtime. Drove it right through the Steve-effigy’s torso.
Then she dropped it and stepped back, satisfied, relieved.
It was almost evening. Time to see about dinner.
Something hit her.
What…?
Kristen looked around, but the house was still as empty as ever. Okay…
On the way to the kitchen, the side of her head began hurting. Weird. Maybe she’d overexerted herself.
Reaching for a glass, she lurched as if body-slammed. Before she could recover, two more blows.
Wasn’t she alone?
Out of nowhere, something struck her face. Blood poured from her nose.
Her arm tweaked, cracked.
Outside, the sun set.
Kristen saw the slanted light on the kitchen floor, and she knew. Payment was due.
Blow after blow landed on her. She staggered, couldn’t get away.
“But I don’t deserve this!” she sobbed, though she knew it didn’t matter.
Then she gasped and looked down as a jagged hole ripped through her chest.
Patty opened the door to find a smiling salesman holding a rubber-looking figure on her step.
“Good morning!” he smarmed. “I’m here representing Catharsis Effigies Inc. and I’d like to interest you in our one-of-a-kind products.”
“Heh,” Patty said. “Looks like the president. And my stepdad.”
“Well, that’s wonderful!”
“Not really. I hated my stepdad.”
“And that’s what this is for, ma’am. Have a look. It’s a sample product, which you can have without payment until sundown.”
“For catharsis, huh?” Patty chuckled. “Well, why not?”
Can you guess which song from the 1990's inspired this story? Share in the comments!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Holy smackrel! Busy salesman, but he may run out of customers if he’s not careful…
Great story, thanks.
They don’t *have* to take the sample product… ;)
Thanks so much!
Whoa, I love it. I wasn’t expecting that ending AT ALL–nice job.
Thanks!
Yeah, that ending… It has an inevitable feel for me, but that’s possibly because this story was always complete in my mind :P
Your story kept me intrigued from beginning to end! And I loved the twist! Great job!
Thank you!
He’s not going to get a lot of repeat business. It is wonderfully creepy.
Thank you! And, somehow, I don’t think that repeat business is what he’s after ;)
Thank you all for reading!
This one was an… interesting one to write. It feels like a lost episode of “The Twilight Zone” and I’m almost inclined to give it a Rod Serling intro! But I won’t.
It’s always challenging trying to decide what to say about these stories. I’ll be very restrained and say just two things:
First, did anyone notice that when the salesman handled the effigy, the person it most resembled was him?
Second, if you want to try guessing which song I used, just think about angry ’90s songs by women. Some of Kristen’s rants were taken directly from the lyrics of this one.
See you back next time you visit –
The Twilight Zone… (spooky voice)
StorySpinner, aka Abigail Falanga
Whoa. That was a super cool and creepy story! An interesting look at “turning the other cheek.”
For real, I thought it was gonna be some voodoo doll thing and her boss was gonna end up dead in the morning. Your ending was far better and surprising!
One of your best yet, Abigail!