rayaso

Topic: the distance between us
Intersection with

halfshellvenus at http://halfshellvenus.livejournal.com/706090.html

Please read my story first.

Pictures of the toys in this story are included below.

A BARBIE LIFE

“KEEP FOREVER” the boxes read, but nothing lasted forever, especially marriages. “Here’s to ‘death do us part,’” Jenny said to the empty room as she drained another glass of wine. The boxes in the attic were the last ones she had to move before turning the house over to the asshole-formerly-known-as-her-husband. “I’ll keep the house,” Steve had said, “but you’ll get the . . .” blah blah horseshit. His new “soulmate” just couldn’t wait to move in, and it was killing her.

Her boxes held her past and her hopes. Those hopes were dead now, but at least Jenny still had the past. These were her favorite toys, saved for children that would never be. “Keep or toss out?” thought Jenny, as she sat down with another glass of wine and opened the first box.

“My Barbie!” she thought, remembering all the hours spent making the perfect worlds that waited for her when she grew up. Barbie had also helped her through her parents’ divorce when she was 7. “My Barbie never divorced,” thought Jenny. “She always had true love with Ken.”

She opened the other boxes, and found her brother’s G.I. Joe, Gumby, and all the others. Jenny had dreamed of playing with these with her kids. “Why couldn’t I have had a Barbie life?” she thought, as she picked up her favorite doll. “What would Barbie have done with my life?”

* * * * *

The Troll didn’t care where he was, as long as Ken’s fist was more than an arm’s length from his nose. “I hate this job,” the Troll thought, examining his nose in a mirror. “Bent, but not broken,” he concluded, casting an admiring glance at his wild orange hair. He had become something of an expert on his nose over the years. Girlfriends had said his nose had “character.” Ex-wives had been less kind, but they had all loved his innocent smile and twinkly eyes.

It all started when Gumby hired him to help in Barbie’s messy divorce case. Not many P.I.’s would work for that shyster lawyer, but the Troll had an open mind when his bank account hit empty. Broken noses, bad marriages, and good scotch were expensive, so what was a troll to do? Besides, Gumby paid well and the Troll had always admired the way Barbie was molded.

The Troll’s current office was wedged conveniently between a pawn shop and a liquor store in a part of town that combined seediness with despair. Once he had been famous as the P.I. of the Toys, and his life had been as flashy as his hair, but that had been too many years and too many bottles ago.   Now, he took whatever walked in the door, leaving him plenty of time to read the Racing Form. Pokey in the 5^th race looked pretty good today, with word on the street that the fix was in.

Before he could call his bookie, the Troll looked up and was surprised to see Gumby entering his office, with his stiff walk and slanted head. The Troll had met him when he was still big time and Gumby was just starting out. He had done Gumby a favor on a case, and Gumby had said he owed him. It looked like he was a toy of his word.

“It’s been a long time,” said the Troll. “Have a chair.”

“No thanks,” Gumby said, “it’s easier to stand.” Gumby had never been very flexible for a poseable figurine. “I need your help.”

That meant that no other P.I. would take the case, but the Troll had stopped being particular a long time ago.

“I need someone discreet for a divorce case,” said Gumby.

“Who’s the client?” asked the Troll, knowing it had to be big time for Gumby to take it.

“Barbie,” said Gumby.

The Troll tried to whistle, but his smile just wasn’t made that way. “That was supposed to be forever,” he said. He didn’t believe in true love, but he had always thought those two had a chance. Barbie was such a doll and Ken, well, Ken was Ken.

“What went wrong?” the Troll asked.

“The usual,” said Gumby. “Ken got bored, quit trying, and started looking for a better model. Barbie thinks he found a new plaything, so that’s where you come in.”

“How’s that?” said the Troll. He didn’t like where this was headed, and it was getting to be happy hour.

“I need you to find out who it is and get some pics,” said Gumby. “Barbie wants to take Ken for everything, especially the Malibu Beach House. She says Ken never worked a day in his life, just sat around watching football and drinking with his loser buddies.”

The Troll hated domestic cases. Peering into bedroom windows wasn’t as exciting as it used to be, and with his stiff legs it was hard to run away if he got caught.

“My camera’s in storage,” said the Troll, “so I’m gonna need an advance.”

“You’ll get your advance,” said Gumby, “but you have to stay off the sauce. You screw this up and you’ll never work in this town again.”

The threat didn’t bother the Troll much, since he was barely getting by anyway. But a good job here, and maybe he’d make a comeback. That Prince Charming fiasco had nearly cost him his license, and he had had to agree not to work fairy tales again. Who knew the Wicked Witch really could turn someone into a toad? It had all been downhill after that.

Gumby gave the Troll the basics and set up a meeting with Barbie at the beach house in a week, which gave the Troll plenty of time to get his camera back from the pawn shop and follow Ken for a few days.

The day of the meeting, the Troll saw the fabled Beach House for the first time. It was two stories of glorious pink with a special feature which allowed the front of the house to swing open, so Barbie had beach views from every room. Ken hadn’t liked all that pink, but what could you expect from a guy who’d only wear swim trunks?

Gumby met Barbie by the swimming pool. “She still looks fantastic,” thought the Troll, who spread his arms wide in greeting. Barbie was wearing a two-piece swim suit with high heels. She still wore her hair in a ponytail, and no, she wasn’t too old to wear her hair that way. Barbie looked a lot younger than her age.

Barbie couldn’t wait to tell Gumby all about her marriage, how she had wanted children, but Ken never did because they were too “inconvenient,” all their arguments, and how he’d been more interested in going out with his lazy “buds” instead of her.

Gumby also found out the most important piece of information. Ken had been making a lot of credit card charges for the Ritz Motel, which the idiot hadn’t even tried to hide. The Ritz was one of those cheesy places where you could pay by the hour and you didn’t need your real name to check in.

The Troll knew all about the Ritz, and Barbie was right, it wasn’t the kind of place you’d expect to find a happily married man. Barbie was sure that Ken was at the motel that very moment, because the beach buggy was gone and he had left without telling her.

The Troll drove over to the motel, and it was as dubious as ever. Wonder Woman was behind the desk, since no one else was available. She always wanted to do the right thing, so it was easy to get Ken’s room number.

Gumby went back to his car for his camera. He wasn’t going to need his squirt gun – this wasn’t that kind of case.   He just wanted the pictures so he could get his fee.

As cautiously as he could with his big feet, the Troll crept over to Ken’s room. He put his substantial ear to the door, and heard Ken’s voice.   “I hate these cases,” thought the Troll.

The Troll was in luck, the blinds were open a little and he could see into the room. There was enough space to get some really good pictures. Suddenly, the door was opened, and there was Ken, wearing nothing but his underwear with his fist headed right for the Troll’s nose. That was going to hurt, but his nose was used to it and at least he had the pictures. Gumby was going to have to pay extra for this!

* * * * * *

I know, you hate cliffhangers as the cheapest form of literary suspense. You need to read

halfshellvenus’s entry for the rest of the story. [http://halfshellvenus.livejournal.com/706090.html]

The Troll Gumby Barbie Ken The Beach House