Bailey and Christine took it upon themselves to sit over by the table where the original dolls had been sold. The owner grumbled at them, but Bailey said, quite happily, that they would put themselves on the stands once they were all three toys. That prospect didn't suit the man, but he scuffled off anyway. The girls took to pointing out all the changes happening to them as they occurred.
Bailey, for her part, was very nearly ready for the final change. She had manifested a puffy white shirt and her shoes were a weird hybrid between simple canvas shoes and black Mary Jane's. Christine's hair pulled itself into thick blue pigtails, and was topped by an overly large white bow. Her jeans had tightened into blue polka dot tights, but her t-shirt had yet to become a dress.
Christine called an employee over. He wore a red apron and had a soldier's tall hat on his head. "So, when you guys sell us, will we come with a plaque of authenticity or something?"
"I . . . wouldn't know." The boy said.
"Could you go ask someone who does?" Bailey asked sweetly. "I'm about to become a doll, and I'm not sure I'll be able to ask soon."
"I would, but he might fire me."
"So, has anything like this happened before?" Christine piped in.
"Uh, well," The boy scratched his head, "I did see someone sucked into a dollhouse."
"Ooh," Bailey turned to Christine, "We definitely need to get ourselves a dollhouse. I don't want to be in a toy box with like fifty other toys."
"I'd be pretty sad if I were you two, becoming dolls and all." The boy said.
"We are," Christine said, "making jokes is just about the only thing keeping us from an utter breakdown."
"Oh." He said, and Bailey waved her hand to shoo the employee away. Her lips were colored a bright red and her cheeks were colored pink. Her eyelashes were thick and black, and her eyes had turned a deep violet. There wasn't much time left.
With almost impeccable timing, a man and woman walked into the store. Both were well dressed, and the man carried a Ziploc bag that held the blue doll Bailey and Christine had been waiting for, as well as the violet doll who had once been a person. The girls stood up and walked to the front counter, where the detectives were already talking to the scarecrow.
". . . anonymous tip about dolls that both Sarah Jenson and Penelope Reyes bought this past week. We found these at the Ms. Reyes' house."
"And did you find anything at Ms. Jensons?" Scarecrow asked.
"No. But we did have reports that she was in this store on Friday before she went missing."
Christine stood next to the female detective while Bailey hopped up on the counter. "We have the doll that Sarah bought." Both police officers looked at the soon-to-be-dolls while Bailey pulled the violet and green toys from her bag.
"Why are you two dressed like that?" The female detective asked.
Bailey waved, "You're about to see in just a fewwwww. . ." Bailey's mouth sealed shut and pulled itself in a smile. After two hours, it was finally happening. She began to shrink at a quick rate, going from about five and a half feet tall to just six inches. A wave overtook her body, turning her tan skin to tan cloth. Fingers fused together and gloves sewed themselves into her wrists. Her arms, legs, and feet, lost definition and became little more than stuffed cotton. But her face retained its human shape and even nose. Bailey fell backward and looked to the ceiling, her arms and legs limp and unmoving.
A giant arm and hand came down to scoop up the new violet doll, and Bailey's arms and legs fell limply off Christine's soft hand. Her stomach had apparently not been changed, as Bailey felt butterflies flit about inside her.
"See, detectives, if you don't give me that blue doll, I'll be just like this in about an hour." Christine said.
"Detectives," scarecrow said, "this is just one of those things where you just want to accept what you've just seen and move on."
It was shocking how fast the Penelope girl returned to her human form once Christine had the blue doll in her hand. In fact, she broke the Ziploc bag she was in at the seams. The detectives took this opportunity to leave the store and its strange happenings as quickly as possible. Penelope did the same, without even a good bye or thank you uttered toward Christine and Bailey.
The girls were both extremely happy at first. Neither they nor Sarah would be spending their days in cotton form. But the changes were not reversing themselves. In fact, Christine's change was not stopping; her lips became the same shocking red of her sister and Bailey and her t-shirt became a blue dress. Somehow, her march to dollhood was continuing. Scarecrow was, of course, the most unhelpful person in the room, and promptly went to his office to be rid of the living dolls.
Bailey looked at the world in a frozen form, just one day after she became eighteen. The doll smile she wore on her face was infectious, and its mirthy grin seeped into her mind. Thoughts of her family and school faded, and she just wanted to think about her doll future held in the hands of a caring owner. She wasn't doing this because of some arcane magiks, but rather because It was the only way for herself to keep sane.
Christine was helpful in reinforcing Bailey's doll instincts when she took three chairs and a table from the dollhouse section and set them up on the front display. She carefully sat her sister and Bailey across from one another at the table. Christine even wrote a note proclaiming that the three dolls were not to be sold separately. With that, Christine, in blue dress and white mittens, sat on the table, waiting for the final changes to overtake her, not understanding why she was still changing at all.
As the time neared when Christine would join Bailey and Sarah, a new employee clocked on for the evening shift. She was a middle-aged woman with red freckles and youthful eyes. She wore the uniform of a red apron, but had also adorned herself with a pair of small pink wings. She approached the trio of dolls with a brown leather book. It was large, but rather thin.
"How are you doing, dear?" she asked with words brisk and quick-spoken.
"Well, I'm a few minutes from turning into a doll like my sister and best friend here." She wasn't lying, either: her cheeks were soft and pink; yellow flowers blossomed and spread across her corset and dress. Even her eyes, which had been blue since birth, had brightened to a sparkling azure. "Why is this still happening? We completed the set; the other girl turned back into a human."
The woman nodded, "Let me ask you this: would you leave your sister and friend if you knew you could save yourself. Would you run away and stay human, while leaving the other two to be toys?"
Christine quickly shook her head, sending fat pigtails back and forth. "Never."
"Well, that's why you're becoming a toy. You three have formed a bond never to be broken. You completed one set and now you must complete another." The woman smiled, "But don't worry. These things have a way of working themselves out for the better." Christine nodded, but still had jittery feelings.
"What's the book for?" She asked.
"Well, since he—" she pointed to the office where scarecrow was hiding, "won't keep track of goings on, I took it upon myself to. In this book is a record of all the magical toys we've brought in, as well as all the changes they have wrought."
"That's sensible."
The woman nodded and asked Christine for names and causes, but time ran too short, and Christine finally succumbed to her dollish fate.
They were now a set complete. One doll, dressed in green, her hair cut short and close to her head, with tights of stripes. Another was dressed in blue with over-sized pig tails and polka dots dressing her legs. The last one, in violet, kept her hair long and curly while wearing diamonds on her tights. They wore matching dresses and their faces were identical. They were sisters in cloth, and could be bought as a whole for a mere thirty dollars.
The dolls passed their days talking to each other through their dreams, laughing and playing in an imaginary dollhouse. Perhaps one day, sooner or later, they would master the spell that held them bound to their cloth forms. But for now, they were a complete set of happy, little dolls.