Chapter Text
The warm rays of the sun were beating down on your head as you opened the trunk of your car, revealing the contents within a box that you carelessly shoved into it when you were rushing. You wanted to arrive at the donation thrift center before all the wild customers showed up and made a disaster of the place.
Bending down to pick up the box, you made a mental note to maybe bring some kind of cart next time you come here since the box weighed more than you expected it to. Shifting it so that you could hold onto it with one arm, you slammed down the trunk door and struggled to balance everything while you reached for your keys in your pocket.
Beep Beep
Satisfied, you wipe off the sweat on your brow and begin your walk towards the store, trying to keep yourself steady so that nothing from the box falls out. The small shopping mall only seems to have a dozen cars within its parking lot. You could recognize which cars belonged to the workers of each store and which belonged to customers. A couple parking spots away from you was a white Hyundai sonata, which you instantly recognized to be the manager’s, Barbara, spot.
You smiled to yourself, ecstatic that your favorite worker was here, knowing that she wouldn’t deny any of the things you brought in. The last time you were here, some bitchy worker that you never really interacted with refused to take most of the stuff you were offering, saying that they wouldn’t sell. You knew very well they would, but you weren’t one for a scene, so you took your things and left. Well, not without telling Barbara about it and getting to know the details of that worker getting reprimanded, but who were you to tell?
Once you reached the automatic doors, the cool air from the store finally hit you and you let out a small sigh in relief. It was still the middle of spring, yet the temperature was getting increasingly higher. You almost screamed when the high was going to be in the 90’s today. Thanks to the government and all the other billionaires.
You swerve to the left and head over to the donation counter, where you can already see who you were looking for. The tuft of dyed red hair and lingering smell of a way too floral perfume filled you with joy as you lifted up your sunglasses to properly greet the woman.
Barbara was a middle aged woman that you’ve grown to love and develop some type of close relationship with. Would you call it friendship or a client/worker relationship? Who knows, but you did like the woman.
“Ah, back for me again, hun?,” Her nude lips stretched out into a smile, “It feels like you were just here.”
“I haven’t been here in a week, Babs!” You let out a small laugh as you lift the box onto the counter, finally alleviating your back and arm muscles. Seriously, how heavy was that thing?
“Maybe I just miss my favorite customer after dealing with shitheads and assholes all week!” She chuckles. She wasn’t wrong, though. You have been here more than enough to know that the customers here can be relatively nice, but there are always going to be the bad apples of the bunch that show up and ruin everyone’s day. Hell, at your own job it feels like the universe is always trying to test your anger management skills when the occasional asshole comes in and makes your life miserable.
“Well, I’m honored and just for that, I have some gifts for you.”
“Gifts for me? Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have! I’m assuming they’re from those lovely parents of yours.”
You reached over and playfully slapped her on the shoulder, causing a small fit of laughter to spark between the two of you. Her eyes crinkled up as she began to dig through the box and pull out its contents. A bunch of old child choir dresses, some wooden cross decor, paintings and some black dress shoes.
Recently, you had moved out of your parents house and decided to live life on your own like any normal adult. You loved your parents, you really did, but it was time to branch out in life. Unexpectedly, they didn’t put up much of a fight and understood what you wanted to do, though they were adamant that they would always let you come back. It made it sound like they were dying! You do try and call them as much as you can while you balance your work life and your social life. The odd thing they’ve been doing is sending you old things from your childhood, including all the knick knacks from when you were religious.
When you received the first package, you got no notice of it from them. They didn’t even ask if you wanted it! You really do love your parents, but they were just so odd at times. You called your mother the night you got the package and asked what it was all about, pulling out old bibles and church dresses from when you were 7 as you chatted with her. Just emptying out the attic, she said. Couldn’t they do a garage sale or something? What were you supposed to do with all this stuff? You lived in a small apartment by yourself in the city, which was a big difference from their larger home where they lived. It was fine, though, it just gave you an excuse to go down to the thrift store near your apartment that you’ve been eyeing for a while. You didn’t want to seem like those kinds of people.
“I seriously don’t know why you don’t just sell these things and make some kind of profit off 'em, kid.” Barbara said, which snapped you of your thoughts as she inspected the items.
“I want to give back to the loving community that I graciously live with.”
She gives you a look and you deflate, letting go of the humble act you were trying to put up.
“Okay…It’s just so much work to have to put this shit on eBay and try to sell them,” You exhaled, leaning over to rest your elbows on the counter, “I’m lazy, what can I say?”
“That’s what I thought.” She smiles, putting everything back in the box and pulling out a clipboard. She scribbled some things onto it while you turned your head towards the rest of the store, looking around to pass time.
The place is pretty empty, except for the couple of the early birds who come in at this time to try and find all the good stuff that was put out from the opening shift before anyone could get their hands on them. The radio is set to some old station from the 70s and you tap your fingers to the song that was playing, not recognizing it.
“Alright kid, thanks for all the stuff today! I’ll try and price them as soon as I can and put it out on the floor.” Barbara brings your attention back to her and she lifts the box with ease and sets it under the counter. Were you really that weak…
“Ah, thanks Babs. You’re truly the best!” You chime in as you adjust your bag on your shoulder and give her a thankful smile.
She exchanges a smile back and walks away to the back to do the rest of her job, you suppose.
You pull out your phone from your purse, the clock reading 11:32 AM. It was still pretty early and it also was your day off, which meant you didn’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. You suppose you could have a quick look around before you head off back to your apartment. You head towards the racks of coats and begin to swipe the hangers on the clothes rack, getting a good look at what they were offering today.
-
An hour had passed and you found some pretty sweet things. A couple of nice midi skirts and shirts found their way into your hands and it seemed like they would be a perfect fit. You only had to guess though, since the fitting rooms were currently closed since they had to be redone. You were just wandering around at this point, finding yourself in the miscellaneous section of the store. You were looking at some fine china dishes when you felt something tap on your shoulder.
“Oh, sorry, am I in your w-”
You stopped mid sentence when you realized that there was no one behind you. Your head shot both ways within the aisle to make sure there truly wasn’t anyone. Strange. You could’ve sworn that someone touched your shoulder. You shook off a chill as you were about to turn back around to the dishes when you noticed something had fallen off the shelf behind you. You bent down and inspected the item. Black eyes were staring right back at you as you picked up the item and went back to your full height.
A doll.
It hung limply in your hands as you took a closer look at it. It seemed to be made out of mostly felt and stuffing, its yellow skin a saturated color. The thing was pretty big for being a doll, 2 feet or so. It was dressed in a white button up that was covered in a blue cardigan with a yellow trim. Its legs were covered in a rainbow pinstripe pant that seemed to have some stains in it. His hair was definitely his defining feature though, a giant blue pompadour sat atop his head as it swirled into itself. The entire thing seemed worse for wear, except for its eyes. They seemed to have no sign of aging and were half-lidded as it smiled at you.
Fucking creepy.
You turn the thing around to inspect the back when you notice a white clothes tag hidden in between the back of his neck and shirt. It was tiny, but you managed to pull it out enough to read what it said.
Wally Darling
So, it had a name. You turn it back around and stare at it. Wally, huh? Fitting name for a doll like that looks like that .
You hold the doll in one arm as you fish your phone out from your bag again. Once you got it out, not without poking your fingers with some stray bobby pins hidden in the bag, you opened up Google and typed in his name. The search engine yielded little results, though they were very recent. There were a couple Reddit posts asking questions about some show called Welcome Home, which seemed to be some TV show lost to time. Wally was the star of the show apparently, some of the posts showing old pictures of the guy in animation and puppet form. Ah, so he was some kind of Sesame Street knock-off.
You take a peek over at Wally, offering him an apologetic smile for that comment, even if he didn’t hear it.
You scrolled as much as you could before you were beginning to get more questions than answers. With a huff, you turned your phone off and shoved it back in your bag. Adjusting him in your arms so that you were essentially carrying him in one arm like a baby, you took a good look at him. He seemed to be a mystery to you and the people who knew of him. As you stare at him, you think back to what Barbara said earlier.
“I seriously don’t know why you don’t just sell these things and make some kind of profit off 'em, kid.”
Vintage is the rage all these days and it seems that this little Welcome Home community may want some more help with their search for this long lost show. You were no expert, but you knew that he could sell for quite a bit of money, even more if you were able to tidy him up from his current state. And who doesn’t hate some extra cash?
You hold him from under his arms and lift him so that he’s eye level with you. This could be a new hobby of yours, who knows?
You put him into your basket, making sure to put all his limbs in so that they aren’t dangling out the sides. You make your way over to the registers, where it seems like Barbara is helping out with ringing out customers. Once she bids off the last person she was ringing out, you pop your basket onto her register and look up excitedly. She’s clearly at a loss for words and she lifts Wally out of the basket and holds it in her hands.
“Do I even have to ask?”
“Ah, I’m just taking your advice and sell this guy online!” You smile at her, pulling out the clothes you picked out and laying them on the check out table.
“I meant selling all your catholic shit to religious nuts and latin mothers. Not…this.” She grabs his price tag and scans it, the price reader saying $5.99. What a steal!
“I know, I know, but I just…have a hunch!”
She lets out a sarcastic ‘Mhm’ and scans the rest of your items, bagging them for you as you pay for them with your card.
“Just don’t come crying back here when Chucky wants your soul.”
You rolled your eyes as you playfully snatched the receipt from her hands and grab your bags from the bagging area.
“You won’t be laughing when I make bank on this little guy,” You pull him out of the plastic bag she shoved him in and hold him in the same position you had him in earlier. She lets out a small chuckle as she starts to ring out the guy who was behind you.
You put your sunglasses back on as you make your way out of the store and back to your car.
“It’s just me and you now, Wally.” You laugh to yourself.
You don’t notice when the doll's eyes somehow begin to dilate.