Mister Socks

“Daddy says he always feels better when I smile.”

Anne smiles as she looks down into my glossy, plastic eyes. The stitched smile across my cotton face reflects back at her.

“Your smile makes me feel better, mister Socks.”

She carries me in one arm and a book in the other as she leaves her room. She sits at the dining room table. After opening the book to the page she left off on, she fixes me to sit in her lap. Anne makes sure my eyes are on the page before she begins to read out loud to me.

Soon, her dad walks into the dining room. He passes the table to get to the kitchen.

“Wow, your reading sounds great, bud! Are you almost done with that book?” He asks.

“Uh-huh! I have five pages left!”

“Look at my little smarty pants.” The sound of running water plays from the sink. “I have to go to the store later today. If you can finish your book all by yourself, you can pick out something sweet.”

Anne gasps and bounces in her seat. “We’re going to the store? Okay, okay! I’ll finish all by myself!”

The water cuts off. “I know you can, bud. It won’t be your first one.” He walks over and sits next to Anne as he dries his hands with a paper towel. “I have some work to finish in the shed. You keep reading. It’s good for that smarty pants brain of yours.”

Anne smiles wide and bright.

Her dad hugs her. “Nothing makes me happier than that big ol’ smile of yours. Have fun reading. I’ll tell you when we’re leaving for the store.”

He leaves the dining room and takes the side door out to the backyard. Anne and I watch the screen door as he walks across the lawn.

She soon returns to her book. She reads out loud again and sounds out words she doesn't know.

Once she finishes, she closes the book with a smile. She hops down from the dining room table and rushes off to her room. She places the book on her bookshelf. The top shelf keeps books she hasn’t read, and the bottom shelf holds the ones she’s finished. She’s now up to three. Three books she’s read out loud to me.

“Which book should we read next, mister Socks?”

She pulls out a book. “‘G-ghost in the house.’ That sounds fun. What do you think, mister Socks? I think a ghost house is fun. You get to see them every day.”

Anne brings me and the book out to the dining room table.

“I want to see someone every day. I don’t see anyone every day.”

She sits down and positions me in her lap again.

“I see you every day, mister Socks. I’m happy you’re here for when daddy isn’t here.”

She turns my body to face the book. “Now pay attention. I’m gonna read you a story. This book is called…”

Anne reads off the title again before opening the book.

She gets about halfway through when she gets to a word she’s never seen and can’t seem to sound out. She huffs.

“Do you know what that means, mister Socks?…Me either.”

She turns me to face her. “I can ask daddy. But he’s working. Hmm.”

She kicks her feet back and forth as she thinks. “I won’t be rude. I’ll knock.”

She nods as she hops down with her book in hand and me on her hip.

She walks us to the side door. As she walks across the grass, she also looks at the word in her book, still attempting to say it. She sighs once she makes it to the shed door. She knocks.

There’s no answer. There’s no sound coming from the shed.

She knocks again. “Daddy, I don’t know this word!”

She knocks one more time before opening the shed door.

It’s dark inside. A single light bulb hangs on the wall giving off a muted, yellow glow.

The wooden walls of the shed are splattered in a dark red.

A large wooden table sits in the middle of the shed. The same red on the walls, fresh and dripping from the table onto the dusty ground.

Anne drops her book.

A woman lies on the table.

Still.

Quiet.

“H-her head…”

Anne is grabbed by the shoulders and swung around. Her dad is on his knees in front of her, dirt and grass stuck to his hands and red streaked across his cheeks and shirt. He’s sweaty and out of breath.

“H-hey, hey, bud! What are you doing? You know I’m working.”

Anne is silent. Her eyes are blank.

“Come on, kiddo. It’s alright. Don’t look like that.” He wraps his arms around her. “I wanted you to be a little older before you saw into the shed. I know it might feel like a lot right now, but I’m still your dad, and I still love you.”

He pulls away from her to see her face once again. Anne holds the same blank stare. Her dad frowns up, lips trembling as he stares at her. “D-don’t look at me like that. I can’t deal with you looking at me like that too. Anne, please. Smile for me. You know I always feel better when you smile.”

Anne’s lips twitch. Her eyes look around a bit before focusing on her dad. Slowly, she brings the corners of her mouth up, fixing a clunky smile on her face.

Her dad smiles back, wide and bright. Tears slipped from his eyes. They also fall from Anne’s. He moves his dried, muddy hands to her cheeks, pushing her smile up more on her face. “There ya go. I feel so much better already, kiddo.”

He hugs her once more. Anne’s grip on me tightens. Her smile wavers as tears reach her lips. She looks down at me from over her dad’s shoulder. The stitched smile across my cotton face reflects back at her.