Dolly Waters
Always.
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01-18-2019, 06:27 PM
Redemption...
[insert narrator's brutally deep, something or another about being redeemed or some bullshit here]
And so that was that, with all of the academically irremediable trials I had eked through since stumbling on the realization of what was destined for me; the lies, the various chemical dependencies, the transiency, the obsession, the manipulation, the sheer horror of self- just as I had found that time hadn't more for me, time had found me redeemed through circumstance.
I, Brian Cawood, was about to get everything I had coming to me for so long now.
"This is it boys, The Martha Layne Collins Young Women's Home, it's a really nice place. Typically it houses expecting mothers who have financial or various other psychiatric or domestic abuse issues..."
The deputy continued blathering on as he led us up the side walk toward an old Victorian styled house that was neatly tucked away on a horse farm, about ten miles or so from where we had been staying. I couldn't focus on what he was saying, he was mainly talking to Muddy anyway. My heart was racing. I could feel a cold sweat starting to nestle around my neck collar. My hands were restless. I had started coming down from the last bit of coke I freebased and I felt nervous as all get out.
"...she was sent for some preliminary mental evaluations at the local hospital, and we were able cross reference her DNA with yours. Once we had learned that the missing persons report had been..."
Fuck a duck. This guy hasn't shut up since we left. But thank god for the marvels of modern science. The odds of finding a missing person alive after forty-eight hours are slim to none. At any given time in the U.S. there are hundreds of thousands of active missing persons cases- that is at least according to some statistic something I found somewhere on Google some time ago.
But the mere fact that Dolly, after all of this time, would have been able to maintain out on her own only adds credence to the absolute legend that her existence has naturally engineered. Let's not forget either folks, it's not like Muddy was looking for Dolly when I found him. The fucker was living in a back alley in Louisville turning tricks for moonshine. It's maybe a little more obvious to me now that Dolly Waters maybe never really wanted to be found.
"Hello mam, I'm Deputy Melton, we just spoke over the phone."
After the deputy speaks into the mounted intercom on the porch there's a loud buzz as the large front door unlocks. The place guarded up nice and tight. Pretty appropriate given the circumstance of what most of these tenants must find themselves.
We walk inside where we're greeted by a fair looking lady, probably in her mid to late fifties.
"Hello, Deputy. Hello, gentlemen."
She greets the three of us each with a handshake and a smile,
"I'm Mary Osborne, director here at The Young Women's House."
"Pleased. I'm Deputy Melton, and this is Muddy Waters, the presumed father of your Jane Doe, and his partner, Brian."
I'm not certain what exactly he was insinuating there...
"Oh yes!"
She cheers,
"You know Muddy, I can REALLY see the resemblance. It's really such a good thing that we were able to find you. I could only imagine how hard losing such a sweet thing like her has been on you."
Right.
"I've missed my baby girl so bad..."
Don't get me wrong, there's some sincerity to all of that with Muddy. I know he and Dolly were very close for a long time, and as I stated before, it's not like Dolly was likely looking to be founded or needing to be found by anyone anyhow.
It's pretty well documented that Muddy is the reason Dolly broke into the XWF as a competitor to begin with. When Muddy began wrestling years ago, Dolly was seemingly attached to his hip. But in the end it was his fault the two were ever separated. Had he not been so bound by the need to numb the woes of failures with drugs and alcohol, putting those desires above the desires to be not just a loving father, but a decent man, then Dolly would have never had to find her own way.
Funny though, now that I think of it, I guess I should be thanking Muddy. Without his neglect, the legend of Dolly Waters, the story I've been so desperate to capture, would have never existed in the first place.
"She came to us back in the spring, and it was pretty odd to say the least..."
"Why's 'at?"
Mary and Muddy continue to converse as she begins to lead us upstairs to Dolly's room
"Well, it's almost as if she knew that we'd be here. It's not like we're an advertised haven or anything. Most all of our women are brought to us, either by CPS or some form of women's advocacy. But not with her. Rather than needing to be here, she seemed to want this."
"How was she when she turned up here?"
I ask,
"Interestingly enough, from a physical standpoint she was fine. It's really astonishing given her state of disenchantment."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, it's been my experience that with ladies as young as her, when they've been out on their own for so long they become very restrained socially. This was very much the case with her. She barely spoke as much as a few words to any one on any given day. In my personal assessment of her mental state, I was able to conclude that she had been on her own, away from any typical social structure for at least a year before arriving to us."
"Is it possible that someone was maybe aiding her?"
"It's possible, yes. But she only ever spoke of something she called her Buronan to me."
Now that was indeed interesting.
"Here we are..."
Mary opens the door to Dolly's room, and there she sat on a wooden bench next to a large window with the curtains drawn. The warm sunlight pouring over her like an embellishing exhibit in a museum, ripe with mystique and majesty.
"DOLL BABY!"
Muddy, with tears in his eyes and a frog in his throat runs to her and in a most natural way wraps her with a father's embrace. A most, I don't really know how to put it, unusual? Unusual smile slides onto Dolly's face as she seemingly doesn't even look at her father as she gentle wraps her arms around his body, yet instead attaches her eyes to me. The glare I'm receiving almost as unreadable as the smile.
"Hi, Daddy"
How non-fucking-chalant was that? I'm suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Maybe it's drugs, but I don't think so. This feeling of finally being face to face with her, the one who was going to make my wildest dreams a reality.
It's...
It's...
It's like she's already inside of me. Reading me. Judging me. Picking apart my inner most demons.
It's fucking terrifying.
"Daddy? Who's that guy?"
I sink into the wall, my heart feels like it's collapsing.
"Baby, that's Brian Cawood."
He answers with an intertwined series of sobs and moans while kissing Dolly on the top of her head,
"He's a movie man from New York. He's the one who made all this possible."
Dolly grins at me, and not in the most endearing way one could imagine,
"Oh good! Well, we better make sure to take extra special care of Brian Cawood, then, huh?"
I'm not sure what happened after that. Splatters of imagery and bursts of voices surround me.
...to be continued...
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