Soldier Doll by Jennifer Gold

Author:Jennifer Gold
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Second Story Press
Published: 2014-02-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Toronto, Canada

2007

“Come in, guys.” Dr. McLeod is waiting for them when they arrive. They’re a few minutes late; finding parking proved to be a challenge today. Usually easy-going and even-tempered, her father becomes Mr. Hyde when driving or parking the car. As she hid in her seat while he swore and railed against other drivers, Elizabeth resolved to make a case for public transportation in the future.

Elizabeth studies Dr. McLeod. She seems cheerful enough—she’s smiling, anyway.

Elizabeth and her father exchange a glance. A good sign? Elizabeth wonders. Dr. McLeod waves them in, directing them to the table. “I was just on the phone with a colleague overseas,” she says. She’s wearing a long denim tunic with purple embroidery today and a pair of orange ballet flats. “About your find, actually.” She sits down and motions for them to do the same. As she settles into her chair, Elizabeth notes that the pile of journals that toppled over like dominoes last week is still in a heap on the floor. There are also several textbooks strewn around under the table. She tries not to hit any with her chair as she pulls it in closer to Dr. McLeod’s desk.

“So.” Dr. McLeod looks at them. She crosses and uncrosses her fingers, then crosses them again. She grins mischievously. “How’s everyone doing?”

Elizabeth and John look at each other again.

“Okay, thanks,” says Elizabeth cautiously. At the same time, John blurts out, “Is it the real thing?”

“Dad!” says Elizabeth, scandalized.

Dr. McLeod laughs. She winks at Elizabeth. “Is he always like this?”

“Worse, usually.” Elizabeth rolls her eyes and gives her dad a playful punch on the arm.

“I’m sorry.” John looks abashed. He pauses. “But—is it?”

Dr. McLeod smiles. She reaches for a red folder and shuffles some papers. “I can’t say for certain, of course. No one can, except perhaps Merriweather, if she’s still alive. But in my professional opinion—I would say there is a strong possibility. Probability, even.”

John exhales. “Is that as close to ‘yes’ as we’re going to get?” he asks.

Dr. McLeod nods. “I can’t say for certain, right? But put it this way: that’s as good an answer as you could have hoped for.”

John looks triumphant. He reaches over and squeezes Elizabeth’s hand. “Quite a birthday present, huh, Liz? Who knew?”

Elizabeth grins. She can’t wait to tell Evan. She’d let him know the night before on Facebook that they were coming to see Dr. McLeod today. He’d told her to text him right away when she found out. “Boris and I need to know immediately,” he’d messaged back, and she’d laughed.

Dr. McLeod reaches for a pair of purple glasses and opens the folder. “The lab results all match up,” she says. “I’ll spare you the boring details, but in terms of the wood and stuff, it’s all what you would expect for a wooden toy from the southwestern part of England. And it’s definitely early twentieth century.”

John bangs the table in excitement. “I knew it. I knew it was real! I had a feeling.

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