The Mannequin

A Story by Mark Powell

The Mannequin

By Mark Powell

In a quiet town, in a quiet store, there lived a plain white mannequin. Once a week a store employee would change his clothes and perhaps put a touch of make-up to add a seasonal effect. Every night from 10 P.M. to 6 A.M. he would wander throughout the store limits examining everything he came upon. For six months this habit had been going on, and his “store-life” span would be ending soon in six more.

It was the night of December 20^th. Outside it was cloudy and seemed as if there might possibly be a wind storm. On this night the mannequin decided he would take a walk down the toy section to see what all the rush had been about earlier that day. Even though most of the store lights were out he still could se the vibrant colors of action figures and board games. He liked these colors, they seemed to appeal to him in a way that not many other things in his short life had. The men, women, and all the children who walked into these few aisles seemed to light up; they seemed to love these things. He stood there staring at the toys for a couple hours and then wandered back to his podium. Stiffing himself back up, he awaited the new day.

At 6:30 two janitors walked into the store and mopped the entire floor area of the store. The mannequin stiffly stood and watched this every morning but it never stopped short of entrancing him. The question “why?” would always appear in his mind but shortly after seeing the freshly shined tile floor he knew the answer. It was so beautiful seeing all the people’s reflections on the floor, but every time he would see his reflection all he saw was ugly. Throughout the day people from all over town would pour in to purchase “Christmas” presents.

He especially loathed the clothes he had been put in. The employee this week dressed him up in a white robe and a red cap with a white ball tied to the end. All the passer-bys seemed to get a giggle out of the “Santa” hat on his head, but the mannequin still loathed it. The red hat gave him a feel of fakeness. In fact, thinking about it, he realized that he had loathed all the clothes he had been put in; He loathed all the make-up that had been put on him. “He was no man, nor was he beast, why would they dress him as such?” He could think and he learned more and more everyday from customers and drifters. This world he lived in was pathetic, and the world before this had been pathetic. How could someone believe in something that they had never even seen? How could you just simply trust that the words of one singular man weren’t slurred over the period of two thousand years? How is it believable to anyone? Nothing seemed real… Well at least all that. The ignorance of the common man pours like rivers throughout books and doctrines written in past and present.

Around 9:30 all of the customers had long ago left and 2 janitors silently re-arranged items on racks and other store items. Soon after they left and the mannequin was free to stand up and walk around the store. During the past week he had over heard the joyous laughter of employees over the fact that they wouldn’t have to work from the 22^nd to the 27^th due to the “Christmas” vacation…Whatever that may be... To the mannequin this meant he would be able to freely roam for several days without any interruption from humans. So on that night the mannequin slept… he slept for the first time in his life. He was so exhausted that he slept for two whole nights.

During this deep slumber he had two dreams. The first dream he had placed him back a couple thousand years within one of the fairy tales he had read out of pure boredom. This fairy tale was very different from all the others though. Everyone believed this fairy tale, to all of them it was truth laced over with more truth embedded within truth. The mannequin dreamed that he was the star role of this fairy tale. He spoke of love and eternal life, he told all of the world unto his people and they believed him. All of his word was truth. Then one day his favorite child told of his home to a man who hated the mannequin. The mannequin was not scared. He believed in all of his heart all of the words he had spoken. These words would set him free. Soon after the mannequin was captured in his home. He was beaten and his cold body bled. Chunks of his foam were torn from his body. He wept, he did not weep from fear of death, he wept from joy over what was soon to come. He felt sorrow over what they were doing to their own people… Soon he felt hatred. His body was now in pieces and he was being dragged down a cobble stone pathway up onto a hill. Once on the hill he was lain down onto a thing made of wood and slowly he was nailed to it. The nails pierced his body, but even more his soul. The thing was lifted up along side two others. Two other mannequins were nailed upon these wooden things. The first was the brightest white the mannequin had ever seen. This mannequin believed all that the mannequin said. The second mannequin was black. He was the darkest color the mannequin had ever seen. What scared the mannequin the most was he saw a reflection of himself in this mannequin. This mannequin did not believe. He saw the reality behind everything and believed there was only darkness after death. This darkness he saw in death reflected through his color. Soon the dreaming mannequin, white at first, started to feel scared and stuck. He looked down and saw the darkness crawling up his legs like spider webs as he melted into the cross he was nailed upon. For a long while the mannequin stayed there… eventually he felt cold and knew he must be dead. Closing his eyes he saw it all. He saw the beginning and he saw the end, and then all he could see was darkness.

III

The second dream the mannequin had was a far longer dream. He dreamt he was out in a field. He dreamt that he lied there for all of eternity and nothing changed. As much as he loved the feeling of this place, he soon hated being stuck within one place for all of eternity. The mannequin soon realized this was all fake; He realized it was just a sheet over the reality. He realized this was his life in the store… he wanted to be free. These thoughts were what awoke him from his deep slumber.

He looked around and wandered to the stores door to see the sun rising up. The concrete parkway was glazed over in the most beautiful white powder. The mannequin had never seen anything quite as beautiful in his life outside of dreams. He stared out the door for a very long time. Eventually the sun had fully risen and the mannequin slowly walked back into the store occasionally staring back at the snow covered ground.

Walking towards his podium he passed a stand of make-up with a portrait of a beautiful woman beside it. The mannequin stopped and stared at the make-up for a short while and eventually stripped off all his clothes. Soon after he picked up a large stick of black lipstick, looked into a mirror, and drew all over himself. On his face he drew a large eye. On his torso and limbs he drew lines crossing all over himself. After this he took 6 steps back and looked into the mirror. He thought “Maybe now I am as beautiful as the intellectual beast. I am all-seeing and I have seen the end. I have seen it all. I cannot wait until the darkness.” After this thought occurred the mannequin drew a large smile on his face and kept walking towards his podium.

Two aisles before his podium he took a turn to the left. He was now in one of the several utilities aisles and he walked down it looking for lighter fluid. Finding a large section full of fluid in the end of the aisle he grabbed two bottles and doused himself with it. Grabbing two more bottles he poured it behind him all around the store, and up onto his podium. Slowly he walked to the front of the store, doused the doors, and trailed that fluid to the other fluid’s trail. Grabbing a book of matches he took one last look at the beautiful snow that was slowly drifting downwards from the sky like little angels and finally walked back to stand on his podium. Once reaching the podium he struck a match and put it to his right arm. Quickly and quite ferociously the flames licked down his body and his right arm melted down to nothing. Once the flames reached his lower torso they leapt onto the trails of fluid and the flames happily danced throughout the entire store. In the end the mannequin turned to ash as the store turned to ash along side him. Everything the mannequin had ever known in life dissipated in a few brief moments and joined him in the darkness.

The End