The Six Segment Story Stack to Start Twenty-Sixteen #2

 The child was unquestionably questionable. Everyone who knew her knew that. Yet no one who knew her really knew her at all.

 The Creator who created her created her well. She possessed all the basics. Two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, two arms, two legs, two hands, two feet, ten fingers, ten toes, and a trunk to hold them all in place.

 Yet her basics weren’t so basic. She was perfectly symmetrical, which, contrary to common belief, is not so common. Her milky-white skin was flawless. No birthmarks, no moles, not even a man-made bump or bruise. To touch her was like touching porcelain. Constantly cool even on the warmest of days, and smooth as the smoothest silk.

 Inside her perfectly symmetrical eye sockets were two perfectly symmetrical eyes. In the center of those two perfectly symmetrical eyes were two perfectly symmetrical irises. They were baby blue, and their color was constant, never dependent on her daily attire.

 Below her two perfectly symmetrical eyes and a symmetrically-centered nose were two perfectly placed lips. She was much too little for lipstick, but her Creator had created her lips in such a way that lipstick would never be necessary. Salmon is the normal shade of lips in their natural state, but scarlet was the only shade her lips had ever shown.

 On top of the head that held the perfectly placed lips, the symmetrically-centered nose, and the two perfectly symmetrical eyes was a halo of hair, and it was as blond as blond can be. The bottom of her bangs brushed the peaks of her eyebrows, and the remainder rested right underneath her ears.

 Her eyes opened at exactly 7:00 AM every morning and blinked exactly 8400 times before closing at exactly 9:00 PM every night. Her lips never curled up, never curled down, and never separated, except to take five bites of breakfast, eleven bites of lunch, and a dozen bites of dinner every day.

 Her movable parts all moved. She wasn’t deaf, as evidenced by her ability to move all of her movable parts on command, and she wasn’t blind because she moved those movable parts without bumping into that which could be bumped into.

 Not only were her outsides odd, her insides were also. Her beating heart beat exactly sixty beats per minute, never more, never less. And within each minute, she inhaled and exhaled exactly eleven times. Her voice box was capable of voicing a voice, but no sound had ever sounded from it.

 To the possessors of the ever-present eyes that eyeballed the girl, she was most mysterious. The only indication that she was a living being was the slow rise and fall of her chest and the occasional blink that for a brief moment covered her baby blues.

 And she was the only child in all of Heaven.

   Heaven really was quite heavenly. At its center was Central Street, stretching from one end of Heaven to the other. If one began at the beginning of Heaven and traveled in a straight line down Central Street, one could tour the entire town in ten minutes if traveling by automobile.

   The first mile of heaven was identical to the last. On either side of Central Street was a curb, sixteen inches of sod, a sidewalk, and six additional feet of sod, all leading to a cookie-cutter cottage.

   Each cookie-cutter cottage stood nine feet from the next. At twenty-two feet wide, a total of sixty-eight cottages lined each side of Central Street, totaling one hundred thirty-six residences in the entire town.

   Each residence rose fourteen feet off the ground. A twenty-two foot wide porch spanned the twenty-two foot wide front wall of each residence. Two wide windows were on either side of an even wider door.

   Each of the one hundred thirty-six residences was painted a particular color, and each color was unique. Soft Sapphire and Sparkling Cerulean may be similar, but they are certainly not the same.  

   One to two residents resided in each residence, with an average of two hundred inhabitants of Heaven at any given time.

   After one passed sixty-eight uniquely colored cottages, one would reach the center of Central Street. Central Street continued to the right and left, forming a diamond before returning to its straight path. Ten attached two-story buildings lined each side of the diamond. Situated on the right side were the post office, the bank, the doctor’s office, the dentist’s office, the courthouse, the funeral home, the repair shop, the flower shop, the mechanic’s shop, and the gas station. Situated on the left side were the soda shop, the market, the diner, the furniture store, the clothing store, the general store, the single-screen cinema, the ice cream parlor, and the eleven-lane bowling alley.

   In the center of the diamond, surrounded by a garden, was the Christian Church of Christ. It was bigger than any other building in Heaven, as almost all two hundred inhabitants of Heaven entered the church every single Sunday.

   Every Heavenite worked in Heaven, except for those who had retired after reaching retirement age. Retired residents spent their time tending their tulips, watering their wildflowers, cultivating their crops, and reading their reading materials.

   One particularly peculiar retired resident was Polly Priestly. Her short stature was shorter than all the other hers in Heaven, aside from the child, of course. Her wide width was wider than any other Heavenly woman. Her white ringlets wound quite close to her head. Her age was old, but her beauty was still breathtaking.

   She resided in house number thirty-three, its color timeless turquoise. Turquoise tulips lined her lawn. Tomato was the only crop she chose to cultivate.

   Every morning she gathered the growth from her garden into her basket. She then toted it past thirty-two colored cottages and the soda shop until she reached the market. She delivered her delivery to the market manager for seventeen cents a tomato. Her daily delivery earned her anywhere from five to fifteen dollars, and that was more than enough income for Polly Priestly to live a heavenly life in Heaven.

   One morning in early autumn as Polly Priestly was making her way home from the market she came upon the most peculiar sight she’d ever seen. A half-sized human figure was crumpled along the curb. Polly peered down at the perfectly pristine pint-sized person with puzzlement. She was most-surely a she, simply wearing a simple sundress with tiny toes sticking out of strappy sandals.

   Two baby blues blinked blankly, the half-sized human staring beyond where Polly stood. Polly struggled to see what the small stranger was staring at, but she saw nothing but a normal Heaven.

   “Morning,” said Polly as politely as possible.

   The petite person made no movement.

   Polly reached with her right arm and tenderly touched the smooth skin crumpled on the curb.

   After no acknowledgment, Polly placed her basket on the sidewalk and scooped the crumpled being from the curb, elongating her as she lifted.

   Once uncrumpled and elongated, she was not very long. Her limbs hung loosely from her little limp form. Her blinking baby blues shifted to the sidewalk and stayed there.

   Polly had never seen such a sight. A perfectly proportioned human, yet less than half the size of all other humans in Heaven.

   I’ve come across something seriously strange, Polly thought to herself. I must seek suggestions.

   Polly set the stranger inside her basket and turned back toward Central Street, backtracking to Dr. Dunn’s doctor’s office, desperate for a diagnosis.

   Dr. Dunn examined every inch of the little life stretched out in front of him on the examining table.

   “I haven’t seen such a sight in seventeen seasons,” he exclaimed, ending his examination.

   “What did you determine, Doctor?”

   “Polly Priestly, you brought a baby in your basket.”

   Polly placed her pupils on the tiny person on the table. “A baby?” She barely whispered the word. Babies weren’t born in Heaven. Babies didn’t belong in Heaven.

   “This tot looks to be two, possibly three,” Dr. Dunn disclosed to Polly.

   “How on earth did it enter Heaven?” Polly proclaimed.

   “I can’t offer a conclusion.”

   “What do you advise I do?”

   “I advise you take the tot to your cottage, cook her something creamy, comfort her if she cries, and sing her to sleep.”

   “And after I’ve accomplished those instructions?”

   “Repeat until she is returned to her rightful residence.”

   Polly carried the creature to her cottage. She set her on a stool while she cooked a cup of creamed corn. She spooned out a spoonful and slipped it between the babe’s lips. For a miniscule moment, Polly feared that the child would choke. But then, the child began to chew. She swallowed seven spoonfuls before blocking a bite with her crimson colored lips.

   Now, what next? Polly pondered. Comfort her cries.

   But she didn’t shed a tear. The tiny tot sat on the stool and stared into space with her blinking baby blues.

   Polly stared at the small stranger, while the small stranger stared into space. After what seemed to be an eternity, the baby’s blinks began lasting longer, indicating the need for a nap.

   Polly slid her off of her stool and carried her to the couch, laying her little body beneath a blanket. She knelt next to her and softly sang a sweet song. Before long, the baby blinked one last blink and drifted into dreamland.

   Days turned into weeks, weeks into a month, but no mother ever entered Heaven to retrieve her child.

   Eight days after her arrival, Polly still had not gotten the tot to tell her her name.

   I must call this stranger something, Polly thought, because while she was still strange, she was less of a stranger every day.

   I’ll call her…Caroline.

   Each day was a repeat of the one before. Good morning, Caroline. Eat your eggs, Caroline. Take that tomato from the vine, Caroline. Come Caroline, we must make our trip to the market. Sit on this stool while I cook your corn, Caroline. One more big bite for Polly, please. Something sweet being sung to sing her to sleep. Come sit with Polly, Caroline, while she completes her crossword. Dumplings for dinner, Caroline, with custard for dessert? Come baby, let’s get you in the bath. All clean, Caroline. Shall we sing one last song before bed? Good night, Caroline.

   The tiny tot did as she was told. She behaved beautifully, even while the preacher preached his lengthy sermons every Sunday, sitting silently beside Polly in the pew.

   The possessors of the ever-present eyes that eyeballed the child all attended the Christian Church of Christ. Their gaze was always on the girl, glancing away only if Polly caught their eye.

   “From where did she arrive?” was the most common question, followed by, “How long until she leaves?”

   “I know not,” Polly would simply state, eagerly escorting an oblivious Caroline out of the Christian Church of Christ and accompanying her to the home that was only hers no longer.