Short story
A Puppet Life
POV of a hand puppet
Coming from a store’s sale rack, I found a new home in a bedroom puppet house. A lion hand puppet was already living there. Throughout the months, we did shows in different places. We would sometimes get borrowed by our owner’s friends. They would use us for shows like make-believe, puppet theatres and more.
I had to leave my family because we weren’t bought together. Being here is cool since it’s more active than my previous home. On lazy days we would share our personal stories. I found out that Liyon used to be a lion plush before being turned into a hand puppet.
He used to have parents. At least that’s what he called them, because they were a mother bear and a father tiger. Even if they were both lions, we know that puppets cannot conceive as humans do. Like every other toy here, he also comes from a store.
For as far as I can recall, I’ve always been a teddy bear hand puppet surrounded by my kind. I’ve only called them “family” because that’s what I heard a group of humans call each other.
Somehow, the same thoughts still linger in my mind. How would it feel like to experience human emotions? I know there will come a time when puppets would be less relevant. But then, since we don’t feel things, everything is okay. I used to think being a manikin was cool since you get used to science stuff and animations.
“Teddy man, be honest with me, why do you want to be a human?”
“I don’t want to be one. I…I like the way they do things. We are simple. We do anything and don’t complain. And most of all, don’t feel anything. Don’t you think that has to change somehow?”
“Nah man, this is what we are created for. We don’t have to feel emotions nor control ourselves like humans. I’m surprised at how we’re able to communicate with thoughts. Don’t ask me how we’re able to do this, I don’t know how this works. Why don’t you get this simple fact?”
“I guess, you’re right man.”
The sun’s rays strike through the open window. From our puppet house, I observe child humans playing together. One of them covers his face and then counts down from twenty. The other kids run to hide. The counter goes around looking for them. One girl opens the dustbin lid and closes it when the counter comes close.
Another girl slowly gets out of the doghouse, runs to the pole, and taps it repeatedly. The counter looks at her laughing. Two boys are lying with their bellies on the ground, hidden by the high grass. One of them sees the counter coming close and then ties grass knots.
When the counter hears the sounds, he runs to them. He trips until he landed with his face on the ground.
“Maaaammaa!” The counter boy cried.
The other kids came out from their spots to comfort him. He didn’t get hurt, it was only a knee scrape. I’m not sure how to respond to this. Why is he making it a big deal? He is still alive. He can get up and follow his duty, simple. Humans do make things complicated.
Today, our owner’s parents have thrown a birthday party for him. He is turning four years old. A lot of humans, of all ages, are gathered all around. From the bedroom, bathroom, and dinner table, I’m everywhere with him. He had shown me to everyone and made me say things to his parents and friends. Liyon was took by our owner’s friends, who are playing in the backyard jumping castle.
Now my owner goes with me to the kitchen, holding his preschool chair. He stands on it, puts me on the stove, and switches it on.
“Micheal? Micheal?” My owner’s mother called him.
He jumped to the floor and ran to her. My wool skin burns as my body shrinks. All my stuffed insides are now showing. I still don’t feel anything. So this is how it ends. I just wanted to know what humans feel. Well, Liyon was right. I’ll never be a human. I’m just a puppet.
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Copyright © Mbhango Lefoka
