Work Text:
The Continuing Mystery of the Severed Head
by IrenaAdler
When Don came around the corner of his family's house, it took a second to process what he saw in the backyard. In fact, it took him several seconds as his mind - capable of evaluating a hostage situation in an instant - stuttered as he tried to figure out why his niece was batting at a small head flying through the air.
Swinging wildly, Nena missed the head with a grunt. She looked up and saw Don before he could speak.
"Uncle Don!" she called. "Come pitch to me. Grandpa's getting tired!"
Don looked across the lawn to see his red-faced father holding a large wicker basket.
Don came over to Nena. "What kind of game is this?"
Nena gave him a disgusted look. "Baseball!"
Leaning over, Don picked up the little head. It was dirty and battered, but looked like it had once belonged to a blond-haired doll. "Why don't you use a baseball?"
"Lost it."
"Or tennis balls?"
"Koota chewed them all."
Don didn't bother to ask why the neighbor's dog didn't have his own tennis balls to chew. "What about that softball I gave you?"
"I cut open the stitches."
"You ..."
"To see what was inside."
Don chuckled. He remembered his own first baseball dissection and Charlie had ruined countless toys doing the same thing. Don hefted the doll's head in his hand. It was about the right size but too light and soft.
"But didn't you like your doll?"
Nena shrugged. "I've lots of dolls. Didn't have a baseball."
"Oh ..." Uncle Don can fix that! Don turned around and hurried to his car. When he came back, he handed Nena a brand-new baseball.
"Thanks!" She set it on the ground and returned to her doll head.
"But what about the baseball?"
"Bonnie's head goes farther!"
end