A Ragged Red Flag

Ava drifted along the side of the road. Not quite aimless but there was no urgency in her steps either. The air was calm, though the occasional gust blew in to lift small pieces of trash from the concrete and to move them along the street. A receipt wafted from the gutter near her legs and Ava pulled her hood up to ward off the chill. There was something fitting about the cold air on an empty road, a kind of harmony. Appreciation wasn’t the same as enjoyment, and Ava had a long way yet to go today.

The edges of the city felt abandoned. She was sure it wasn’t, not really. Odds-on the wide concrete buildings buzzed with people and trucks during the week. As the sun settled down toward evening though, the outskirts of the city might as well be some forgotten ruin. Most people went home to warmer and more comfortable rooms by now. That loneliness was exactly why she ended up here so often these days. It was so easy to imagine that she was the only soul in all the world, that it was all hers to explore. Better than the crowd she’d find in the city proper. All those eyes had a weight she’d rather not shoulder if she didn’t need to. Better the company of her concrete tundra.

The wind picked up again, shocking her from reverie. It promised to be another cold night and she’d need to find a place to sleep before it got too dark. Despite appearances these streets weren’t actually abandoned, and she had no interest in the kind of attention she might find when the light went out. With a soft sigh Ava began scanning the warehouses and squat industrial buildings for a likely candidate. Most of these places were easy enough to slip into, assuming they weren’t alarmed. That would ruin your night in a hurry.

Ava’s mind snapped back to a night not long ago. Bright lights and footsteps echoing through the alley, her heart beating violently against its prison in her chest. She was sure she’d only had to hide for an hour or so, but it had felt like she’d lay under that dumpster all night. Small rocks digging into her skin, the concrete sapping the warmth from her body, convinced someone would hear her breathing and tear her out into the open. Even after they’d left she hadn’t dared move for at least another hour. She’d stolen nothing, broken nothing, but that never seemed to be enough for the kinds of people who came when alarms sounded. She was no more welcome here than anywhere. In the end she’d walked until dawn to stay warm, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to sleep that night whether she worked up the courage again or not. Ava shook her head, hoping to dislodge the thought from its groove. What mattered was moving forward. She didn’t belong in the past either.

A shock of color caught her eye. In the nearly uniform gray surroundings the small red splotch demanded her attention. Curious. Ava made her way toward the color, not bothering to check for cars as she walked across the street.

Nestled up against the side of a building were the remains of a small stuffed doll. The once vibrant fabric now dusted and grease stained. Most of it had been torn off some time ago, probably a meeting with some unfeeling tire pinwheeling along its way. Such a soft body, made to be hugged. It hadn’t stood a chance. The limbs had been sewn at the joints, so while the head and right side had been completely destroyed the left arm was still plump with stuffing. Its red dress had torn jagged where the head and other limbs had been, and the left leg hung like a limp flag in the breeze. For all that, it had endured. Its soiled red dress proof of happier times.

Holding the little torn doll Ava could feel its stubborn desperation. It knew what it was supposed to be and ached to be that way again. Objects had souls, Ava knew, regardless of what others might say. A shape created a purpose, a will to be that went beyond the simple boundaries of their construction. Even dolls had a nature, a destiny to reach for. Its little broken body hanging limp in her hand, Ava felt that hunger like a dying flame. She imagined it had been just one of countless such dolls, rolled out of some factory far from here, a cheap but bright package to draw the eye of some small child insistent enough to drive their parents into buying it. Disposable. In all likelihood it had come into this world conceived as no more than just another margin on some corporation’s spreadsheet, sewn under the hand of someone more concerned with feeding their family than some young kid’s happiness half a world away. There was no joy in its birth.

For all that though, the doll had a soul. It wanted to be held and carried and cared for. It had been born with a smile and a bright red dress that had danced in the wind and a body to be hugged when a hug was the most important thing in the world. It had been born to be loved, that need woven into its very body. Now it was a ghost. Discarded. Could it understand just what had happened to it? Or was it trapped, forever trying to be what it knew in its soul it was always meant to be but unable to heal what was rent?

The cold breeze blew in and pawed at strands of Ava’s dirty hair, its fingers dragging warm tears across her flushed cheeks. Ava mused how the little doll had ended up here so far from any hand or home. She wondered if it had ever been dear.

The last rays of the sun painted fire along the nearby windows. The eastern sky was already layered in deep greens and blues; the stars would not be far behind. Ava placed the little doll in her coat pocket, making sure there was nothing there that might damage it further. She knew its tiny frame would never again fill the shape it remembered and longed for so tirelessly. How could you be when what you were was long gone? It could be whole now only in memory, whatever its longing. Ava would keep it company for the time being, to hold its remaining hand as perhaps some child had before it had been torn to pieces and left to forget alone. But the doll hadn’t forgotten. In the weavings of its tiny threads it remembered everything it couldn’t ever be again. Ava squeezed lightly on its remaining hand, nestled down deep within her pocket. That was alright, she thought, she couldn’t forget either.