The Little Statue

the little statue
by stacy carolan

The little statue looked at her calmly with alabaster eyes, and a single tear slid down one shiny cheek. A tiny hand reached up and caressed the girl's face. "you're so soft," the statue said through painted ceramic lips.
         The girl smiled and leaned back from the sculpted hand, dipping the sudsy wand back into the bottle. She pulled it out and pushed her breath slowly through the hole. Soon there was a bubble almost large enough to carry away the small statue.
         The tiny mouth dropped open, the glistening eyes rolling over the shifting colors of the bubble's surface. "it shines!"
         "So do you," said the little girl, swirling the wand in the soap.
         "do i shine like that?"
         "Sometimes," the girl shrugged. "If the light hits you right."
         "what about now?" the statue asked eagerly. "is the light hitting me right?"
         The girl cocked her head and looked at the little statue. "Yes, it is," she lied.
         The statue's open mouth spread into a wide smile of porcelain teeth with no individuality.
         The girl blew a string of bubbles, millions of rainbow spheres to the statue, all circling about its head in a dizzying show. The wand clacked softly back into the bottle.
         The statue laughed, and another tear slid smoothly down its cheek. "why are they beautiful?" it asked.
         The little girl laughed too. "What kind of a question is that?"
         Tiny eyes fixed on the girl, not understanding. The smile was fading.
         "Some things are beautiful, and some things aren't," said the girl. Those bright, glassy eyes were making her uncomfortable, and she wished that the statue would go back to staring at the bubbles. They still swirled between them like fairies.
         But the eyes did not move away. If anything they became more pressing, more intense. A small voice fell out of the small mouth, dropping its small question with a puff of porcelain breath. "am i beautiful?"
         "Oh..." whispered the little girl, her own eyes welling up with real tears. She reached out and gently (oh so gently) touched the statue's tiny cheek. Hard ceramic moved subtly beneath her finger.
         The statue slowly drew its shiny eyelids over its shiny eyes and smiled. Tiny arms wrapped themselves around the girl's finger, embracing it like a lover, and the little lips placed a soft kiss amid the swirls of fingerprint. The girl didn't know if she actually felt the kiss or just watched the statue kiss her and thought that she should feel it. It was as light as the bubbles that were fading around them.
         They stayed that way for a while. Then the little statue sighed and opened its eyes. "you are beautiful too," it said, looking up at the girl.
         "Thank you," the girl replied.
         "will you make more?" the statue asked, pointing at the bottle in the girl's other hand.
         "Sure." She gently (very gently) pulled her finger out of the tiny, loving arms and brought the dripping wand back up to her mouth.
         "make the little ones." The statue's eyes were lit with more than just ceramic shine. There was joy. "please."
         Soon the air was dancing and floating with bubbles. The wand dipped in and out of the bottle, and rainbow globes magically appeared opposite her mouth. There was a light musical clinking: the statue was clapping.
         The girl blew bubbles until the wand would not reach the level of the soap in the bottle, until her fingers were slick from trying. She put the bottle down on the ground next to her and just watched. She watched the bubbles dip and glide and swoop and fall and float and hover and bump... but mostly she watched the little statue, as it watched the same aerial ballet.
         Then the statue spoke.
         "what do i do now?"
         "I don't know," said the little girl. The bliss was still in those tiny eyes, but there was also a sadness.
         Then the tiny eyes met hers, and the statue smiled. The girl couldn't help but smile back. She picked up the bottle of bubbles one more time, determined to maintain that sheen of joy in the statue's face. And she did manage to get enough soap for one more parade of bubbles. The statue watched them all, smiling its shining smile.
         "look!" it laughed.
         The girl looked, and saw that the bubbles were moving faster. They bounced into each other more and more, and with increasing force. Soon they began to split from the impacts. Now there were twice as many as before. Still they raced, faster yet, breaking themselves smaller and smaller and smaller and still smaller, until there remained only sparkles in the air, billions and billions of tiny bubbles, twinkling in the light, and soon, even the twinkles seemed to grow smaller.
         There was no distinct moment when they disappeared; she was seeing the faint glimmer in the air, and the next time she thought about thinking about it, it was gone.
         She looked down at the statue, and it was still beautiful. It was the frozen image of a small girl, her eyes lit with the unbridled and blameless joy of youth as she stared at some wonder that only she could see.
         The girl looked down at her finger, and at the tiny, tiny circle of red at the center of her fingerprint. Sighing for reasons she was too young to understand, the little girl carefully (oh so carefully) picked up her porcelain twin and carried her home.