Baby Doll

Baby Doll  by Diane Hanley 8/10/22

Being in my mid forties, teaching all day and engaging in my limited social life on weekends, I decided one January that it was finally necessary that I make a New Year’s resolution — to exercise.  Gyms required expensive memberships and proper exercise attire!  You almost needed to look good to go there, though the idea should be to go there to get in shape to look good.  It just seemed too much trouble, so I never did it.  Recently, our neighborhood newsletter had an advertisement that caught my eye, “Come Exercise at Your Home Away from Home with a Personal Trainer.”  The ad gave his number.  I called.  I got my first clue about him, when Harold Louis answered the phone, “Hello, Harold Louis here or as ‘Ma Bell’ calls me, Louis, Harold. What wonderful whatsit can I do for you?”  

“My name is Betsy and I believe we live in the same neighborhood because I read your ad in the Bush Hill Newsletter.  It says you do personal training in your home, yes?”

Harold quickly replied, “Oh, yes, are you a taker?”

“Excuse me?” I said, “What do you mean by that?  A ‘taker’?”

“Nothing, Little Miss, just means you’re gonna take me up on my offer!”

“You mean your offer of personal training in your home?”

“Yes, that offer, Young Lady.  When do you want to come over and see the lay of the land?”

“Well, now would be good for me.  I am home and want to get started on my new year’s resolution to get in better shape.”

“Then now it is, Sweet Thing.  Come on over, the weather’s fine here.”

Really, I thought! The weather’s fine, huh?  What’s with this guy?  But I went over there hoping he would offer me some exercise that could tone my muscles, be convenient after work and not cost too much!  I arrived at his ranch style house with a basement and rang the doorbell.  It played a song, a twangy kind of song and was still playing when Harold answered the door.  “What is that I asked—the doorbell, I mean—the song?”

“It is ‘Red River Valley’  a famous cowboy tune.  I have quite a few other tunes I have set to play on rotation.  Want to hear another, just push the bell again, Sweet Doll.”

“Uh, not right now, I came to see your exercise studio.”

“OK, Doll Face, you are a doll, you know….” he crooned as he lead me down the stairs to the basement.

“Uh, no, no one has ever called me that before,”  I stammered as we descended the stairs.  I should have wondered what fate I might meet me in that basement, but really Harold seemed harmless.  Older, in his 60’s, I presumed, balding, protruding nose, but slim and what appeared to be nice muscle tone under his Speedo brand t-shirt.

“So here’s my well-equipped room, every machine you need to make that baby doll body of yours be the bees knees!  Please note the charts on the wall with exercises fit for the princess you are and the queen you will become!”

It WAS impressive and I did want to try everything, so I made an appointment for 5:30pm the next day.  At 5:30 sharp I was ringing that ridiculous song bell again.  Harold was right.  Now it played, ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”  Harold answered.

“Hello, Doll Face, ready to sweat your buns off?”

I was and I did.  He put me through quite a regimen of upper body exercise, a woman’s weakest link.  Harold, who now was Harry, to me, told me so, and I believed him. I went home sore and stayed sore even when I returned two days later.  Different door song with Harry beaming, “Ready to kick up your heels, Doll Face?  Lower body today, kiddo!”

“Yep, now I was sore upper and lower. I skipped three days due to the weekend and returned as Harry declared, “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to knock them dead!”  Who was I going to knock dead, I wasn’t sure.  Maybe just myself!  When I did an exercise well, he’d say, “Now Baby Doll, that’s the ticket!”  I wondered and wanted to say, “Ticket to where?”  I never did.  Whenever I groaned or avoided, he’d remark, “You know Doll Baby, the proof is in the pudding.”  I did ask the meaning of that expression.  He said it meant the value of what I did, would be judged by my results.  Okay, so why didn’t he just say THAT?  The slogan of his that really got to me, was the one he’d say when we’d  part each time, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Actually, I hoped I’d do lots of things he wouldn’t do!

Training continued and one day he got called by his damn song bell to the front door.  I’d been dying to see what was behind the other two doors in his basement.  I suppose I could have just asked, but instead I took his absence as chance to go find out for myself.  The first one was just the laundry and storage room, but the other door, well, I nearly slammed it shut!  It sent me running back to the exercise room.  Maybe I should have run out of the house, but I just knew there had to be a reasonable explanation.  I decided to just ask him what was behind doors #1 and #2, since I knew what was behind #3.  He soon returned and this time when we were about to ascend the basement stairs, I sweetly questioned, “Harry, what’s behind those two other doors down here in your basement?” 

He turned beat red, sucked wind, coughed and finally replied, “Just the washer/dryer and storage.”  

“Come on Harry, I peeked.”  I walked towards that room and began to open the door.

Harry freaked, “Don’t open that door, Doll Baby, please!  PLEASE, its sacred.  It means the world to me, Doll Face.  I can’t share it with anybody except my Roxy!  I promised her on her dying day!”

“Harry, I already peeked.”

“But that was just a peek, Baby Doll, I didn’t TAKE you in there!  I haven’t broken my vow.  I WILL tell you, my Roxy spent her lifetime collecting all of them and she was my Queen Baby, in charge of all the baby dolls.  We couldn’t have children.  They were our babies and I can’t share them with you or any female.  Just forget it and NO MORE PEEKING.  Be a good girl, my sweet Doll Face Baby Girl that you are, and just exercise…..”

I promised him I wouldn’t open that door again and I never did look in that room which I knew was full of hundreds of real baby dolls, both beautiful and creepy at the same time!  And I did get used to Harry and all his old-fashioned cliches and pearls of wisdom, not to mention his silly endearing terms for me.  Harry was, well, one of my many memorable mortals!