Five Minute Girl, Chapter 2 (Patreon)

John was home a little earlier than yesterday. He found her where he left her. On the television was playing one of the episodes they had watched the night before. He touched her neck and asked, “How was your day?”

She turned to look at him, “This show is the bomb! I can't wait to see the next episodes with you.” She looked at the garment bag he was holding and jumped off the couch, “Is that for me? I can't wait to see what I'll be wearing.”

As she hung the bag on a the back of a door and started unzippering it, he said, “Well, actually I didn't bring home anything you would be wearing in the store window. Just some simple stuff for around the house and for getting to and from the store.”

“Oh,” she said, trying not to sound dejected. From the bag, she pulled out a pair of nice blouses in teal and hunter green; three pairs of jeans in different sizes; a white pleated skirt; a black pencil skirt; black pantyhose; several pairs of underwear; some bras, both fancy and plain; and several boxes of shoes, including one plain running shoe. “I hope you didn't buy these for me.”

“Just the underwear. The rest were mostly on clearance at the store.”

She immediately grabbed the under clothes and started putting them on. “It's been so long since I wore undergarments.”

“Really?” John knew that mannequins generally “go commando” to avoid unsightly panty lines on the clothes they were showing off. But, surely her other owners had given her underthings to wear when she was not on display, he thought.

“These feel nice,” she said about the panties as she picked up the bras. She squirmed her way into a lacy, baby blue bra that seemed to fit well. She was adjusting the straps when she solidified. No one else has probably ever seen a mannequin adjusting its bra before or since John did.

He activated her again. “While you might be use to being naked around people, I prefer that you are clothed properly here.”

“And I enjoy being clothed,” she said, picking up the jeans. She chose one, and shimmied into them. “They're a little loose. Next time I'll try the smaller pair.” She then put on the green blouse. “And now the shoes.”

He watched as she took the boxes from the bags and put them on his coffee table. She sat down at the table and tried on each of the shoes, starting with the plain low chunky heeled black pair. The five-inch, red stilettos did not go well with the jeans but she was a pro at walking around in them. She even froze mid-stride and remained upright.

He was in the kitchenette making dinner when he heard her stop. He quickly activated her again and she continued walking without missing a step. He went back to the kitchenette while she continued checking out the clothes.

Finally she put on the tennis shoes. She joined him at the table in the kitchen. He had set out two plates of food. “I don't remember when I last ate.”

“Well, that raises the pressure level. I hope you like it.”

“You're so kind. I just have to be careful when I swallow that I don't freeze up at a bad time.”

“I'll reactivate you as needed.”

“Thanks.”

He reactivated her twice during the meal. He tried to make small talk, telling her about his parents and his sister and how they would never believe she was real.

“I'm very easy to demonstrate.”

“They would still think it was just a trick.”

“You seem a bit nervous,” she said.

“I'm expecting you to freeze up and I don't notice. Then you end up thinking I'm a moron or an inconsiderate oaf.”

“You have paid more attention to me in the last day than any of my prior owners would pay attention to me in a year.”

“Well, that's another source of nervousness.”

“Oh.”

“What if the novelty wears off and I end up no different than the other owners? Or what if it's just part of the magic? I--”

“Hush,” she interrupted. Her face brightened, a smile on her lips, a twinkle in her eye. “I don't think you’re like those others. There's a vibe about you.” She stood up. “I'll wash if you stay nearby to keep me running. Then season 3 episode 6?”'

They discussed various plot points of the TV show while she washed and he tried to keep her running smoothly. When they sat on the couch, she sat kind of close to him, putting her hand on his leg before freezing herself.

He was aware of her sitting close to him and he put an arm around her as they watched. After a few hours he felt a few yawns coming on and he stopped the show. Rather than try to scoot out from under her, he pressed her button and said he was going to bed.

She stood up when he did and watched as he went into the bathroom.

When he got out, the television was off. She was looking out the window of his apartment at the street a few stories down. She was posed like a typical store mannequin.

In the morning, he put on his robe and came out to the living room. He unfroze her, “Ready to go to work?”

“I can't wait.” She said moving past him to her pile of clothes.

“I'm going to go shower. I hope I won't be long.”

“Don't worry about me.” She said.

Showered and dressed, he returned to the living room. She was standing at the window again, wearing a plain yellow sundress and the medium heels.

As he activated her, she said, “I'm ready to go.”

“Great.” He grabbed his keys and opened the apartment door. She followed him out and to his car in the basement garage. Just as she was opening the passenger door, she froze. He hurried around the car and pressed her button. Looking around the garage he wondered if anyone saw that. She got in the car and pulled the door closed.

As he entered, he said, “Don't forget your seat belt.”

“Oh, okay,” she said as she buckled herself in. “Safety first.”

He started the car. “Well, it's also a law.”

“Really? I can't remember when I was last seated in a car.”

“Yeah, it's been a law for over thirty years, I think.”

She did not reply, instead watching the scenery go by. After an awkward pause, she froze. He did not immediately unfreeze her as he was paying attention to the road. When he did, he again apologized.

“It's really okay,” she said.

After a moment, he asked, “How many owners have you had?”

“Um,” she thought about it a bit, “maybe fifteen.”

“Fifteen? When did you make your wishes?”

“It was March, 1978.”

He was dumbstruck.

“I know. I don't look a day over 25 but if I could find my birth certificate, it would say I'm in my sixties.”

“Where's your birth certificate?”

“Wherever my mother keeps it. Or kept it, if she's died.”

“You don't know?”

“How could I?”

“How much time have you spent not as a mannequin in the last forty plus years?”

Inconveniently she turned into a mannequin as he asked that question. Once he reactivated her she replied, “Maybe twenty hours, in five minute intervals.”

Once again, John's mouth dropped open.

“For some owners, they would not hit my button at all. I spent a few years in a backroom under a tarp, because the person who knew my secret had died without telling anyone I was special.”

“That's terrible.” He said. “Why didn't you change owners?”

She shook her head. “I can only do that as a person or if I'm in imminent danger. Otherwise, mannequins cannot change who owns them.” Looking at his face, she added, “Hey, don't be like that. I did it to myself. You spend a few years alone, inanimate, and forgotten, you really get to know who you are.”

“And who are you?”

“I --” and she froze. When he unfroze her she laughed. “I told you,” she said. “I'm the five minute girl. My story might sound tragic, but as I see it. I’ll get to see things no one else ever will. I'll outlive you. I got to watch kids go from portable tape cassette players to digital music players to cell phones. I'll see what comes next and what lies further beyond.”

“I suppose you need to take that perspective.”

“It's either that or fret and regret and scream at the universe for my own dumb mistake.”

“Maybe it's because you do come from another time that you are so easily willing to own up to your mistake.”

She laughed. “No, that took me the first 15 years at least. Before that I was quite willing to rage against the injustice of my situation.”

She froze as they were entering the parking lot behind the store. He waited until the car was parked to revive her. In the store, he gave her the nickel tour, showing her the empty front window where she would be standing. The tour ended in his office. “Wait here. I'll get you something to wear.”

She just nodded and looked around the room.

When he got back she was nude and frozen. Her dress was neatly folded on his desk. She was basically standing in a typical mannequin pose: one foot forward, one foot back, arms slightly bent and down toward her sides. Her head was slightly turned from center. She was still wearing the pumps. It was not the first time he had seen her without clothing. But when he had the first time he had no idea she was a person. Now he knew and it felt a bit awkward.

He put the garment, shoes, and accessories down on the chair and said, “I've put the clothes on the chair. I hope they fit.” He pressed her button and made to leave.

She turned and asked, “Should I just walk out to the window, or do you want to carry me out?”

He tried not to look at her as he said, “Why would I carry you?”

“To maintain the illusion for others. Most of my owners would keep me a closely guarded secret.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked. “I have two sales associates. Should I keep you a secret from them?”

She looked at him blankly and blinked. “I've never been given the choice.”

“Think about it as you get dressed. I'll be back shortly as you will probably freeze before you're ready.”

He stepped out and closed the door. Around that time Shelly arrived for work. “Mornin', John,” she said.

“Hello, Shelly.” They exchanged some small talk and then she went into the small employee room where she put her purse in a locker during her shift. John took the break in the conversation to go into his office. Erica was frozen. She was standing on one foot, her other foot about to slip into a shoe. She looked great in the dress.

He pressed the button on her neck and said, “Shelly is here. Do we tell her about you or not?”

“I- “, she seemed off-balanced, and not because she was standing on one foot. “Sure. I don't get to experience something new very often.” Only after she answered did she finish putting on her shoes. “How do I look?”

“Great. Head on out to the window.”

“How should I pose?”

“You get to choose again. I'm sure you know more about posing in a window that I ever will.”

She laughed, “I probably do. Okay, here I go.” She stepped to the office door and hesitated for a few seconds before stepping out. He followed her out. On the showroom floor, she shook Shelly's hand saying, “Hi, I'm Erica. I'll be working in merchandise display.”

Shelly noticed Erica was wearing as one of the dresses that had recently arrived at the store and wasn’t on display yet. She looked nonplussed but managed to say, “Oh, I didn't know John was hiring anybody.”

“That's okay,” Erica replied. “Neither did he until a couple days ago. If you'll excuse me.”

Shelly gave him a questioning look. He held out his palm, with his fingers spread, toward her in a wait-for-it gesture. When she looked back at Erica, she did a double take. “Erica?” Shelly walked over to Erica and discovered a mannequin in her place. She looked at John incredulously.

“It's a long story,” he said.

At that moment, the rear doorbell rang and the two of them went to see if it was a delivery as John told Shelly about his past few nights. She asked pointed questions at various parts. She was an attentive listener the rest of the time. When he finished, she said, “Well, that's depressing.”

“I don't know,” he said. “She seems at peace with her fate.”

“Oh, no, not that. I mean that there really are genies and magic in the world and we've never really encountered it.”

John laughed. “Well, I've got a pretty cool mannequin out of magic so far. Besides, apparently magic is very dangerous.”

“True.”

Store traffic was minimal during the day. Erica watched the cars and people go by on the street outside the store. They paid her no attention as she expected. After sunset, John pressed Erica's button. “Do you want to stay or come back to home?”

“You really don't have to offer.”

“I want to. There are only a couple more episodes to watch and I don't want to watch them without you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She stepped out of the window and went back to his office where her street clothes were. He had to reactivate her once while she changed. Soon, they were back in his apartment making dinner together. It was safe to have her cut up stuff as long as there wasn't a deadline for the cutting to be completed by.

During dinner, he asked what she thought of his window.

“The store is quaint, in a good way. I love being in a window on an actual street. Mall windows are less interesting. The mix of cars and pedestrians is more fun.”

“You mentioned something about attracting people to the store. I didn't notice any additional customers today.”

“That usually takes a day or two I'm afraid.”

“Did bringing you home tonight reset the clock on that?”

“I'm not sure. Probably. I've never left the stores my owners owned really.”

He didn’t respond to that.

Eventually she said, “It's not a problem. You are very kind. But I don't want to be a burden. Let's go watch th--.” She froze mid-sentence.

“It's just so unfair what happened to you,” he said as he reached to reactivate her.

“Fairness doesn't matter when you have no control over your fate. Now stop being maudlin and let's go finish watching our show. That way you won't have to bring me home every night.” She got up from the table able went into the living room.

He was only a few steps behind her but when he got to the sofa the television was on and the show was as paused as she was. She had not waited so she could sit next to him. He said nothing as he sat beside her, taking the remote from her hand and started the show.