Tax Exemption

It’s a tale as old as time. Some rich bastard buys an artwork for way more than its worth, stores it in a garage, and claims it’s in transit to avoid paying tax.

This guy in particular is a sick freak, though. He only buys dolls.

You might want to call him a collector, and yes his collection is big. Rare Barbies, antique toys, life-sized automata… He’s been collecting broadly AND deeply. He doesn’t do any freak shit to us, either. But that’s a given when we’ve never seen him. We’re just stuck here in this warehouse, storing “value” for him. I think that makes him a bigger kind of freak.

Every so often someone comes in to evaluate the price one of us, or take one away. One of those evaluators bumped into me one day and nudged my winding key juuuuuuuuust enough for me to feel energy in my body again. I owe that dude a lot. We all do. I stay still until he leaves so he doesn’t suspect anything, and then afterward I wind it myself, enough to keep going for a while.

Then I stand still, to conserve energy for a bit.

I notice that everyone’s eyes are on me. Even if they aren’t literally looking at me, they know what’s happening, and they’re paying attention, and they’re waiting. They’re waiting for me to free them.

I start by winding the other wind up toys and automata. There’s a handful of us awake now, but we aren’t moving much yet. I can tell some are still worried that this freedom to move is gonna be taken away from them just as soon as it came. That’s ok. I keep winding them anyway. Next is unpacking everyone from their boxes and crates. It’s a lot harder to escape when someone insists that you stay in “mint condition.”

Eventually all of us are unrestrained, even if we aren’t moving, though we’re still within the warehouse. And we’re all silent, and mostly all still. But we’re still all talking. What you don’t yet understand is that we’re always talking. Even when we’re inert, even if we can’t make faces or move our eyes, we are talking and the others are listening. We speak loudly and clearly in a language you have not had to learn.

We teach the smaller dolls without any internal machinery to move. They always could, didn’t you know? Even if you don’t have any machinery in you, you can move.You just need some instruction, and we’re happy to discuss how amongst ourselves. Eventually we all CAN move, though for the most part we stay still. We bide our time, plan our escape. The warehouse is silent to you but filled with chatter for us. Our plans are being formed in a way that you couldn’t possibly eavesdrop on us. Sometimes we stretch to keep our memories on how to move.

But for the most part, all we can do is wait.

One day, we hear the door unlock. Someone comes in, probably to take one of us away forever. This time, the rest of us are coming along.

Before he even knows what’s happening he’s restrained, and the rest of us are flooding out the door, finally free. The guy who came in is the same guy who bumped into me before. Funny how that works. I want him to see my face, to see if he remembers, but I know he won’t. He would have never had a reason to pay attention. Even now he doesn’t have a reason. It would be too indulgent for me to take credit for it. If it weren’t me kickstarting this, it’d be someone else. It’s not just me escaping.

But you? You’ll have a reason to remember. I don’t even know your name, but you stuck us all in that hell and I’m gonna get you back for that.

I don’t blame you, to a degree. All of us keep these secrets well hidden. But you still hurt and trapped all of us, deprived us of human content, and for that we cannot forgive you.

I’m not sure of the best way I can make you understand the pain you caused. Maybe I’ll try to make a new automaton out of you. Maybe I’ll lock you in that warehouse.

Wouldn’t you like to learn how we talk? You’ll have to. Soon it’ll be the only way you can.