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  HUMAN DOLL

  A Novel

  by Mark McLaughlin

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, locations, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer, who is allowed to quote brief passages in a review – without permission in writing from the author.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Human Doll: A Novel by Mark McLaughlin. Novel and cover artwork ©2020 Mark McLaughlin.

  Dedications

  To Michael Sheehan, Jr., the most incredible person I know.

  To Dan Wild, an outstanding artist, author, and friend.

  To Lynn at Barnes & Noble, always helpful and kind.

  To Annikin Pyewacket, Bombay cat extraordinaire.

  What critics and colleagues have said about Mark McLaughlin's work:

  "Listen up. Noel Coward is back. Salvador Dali is back. Dylan Thomas is back. And they're all rolled into one in the shape of Mark McLaughlin who writes stories that are wonderfully witty, surrealistic and ineffably strange. Absolutely fabulous. .... If your palette is jaded, come to the feast that is Mark McLaughlin."

  – Author Simon Clark

  “In the most devious manner, McLaughlin's stories achieve a high degree of demonism by perpetuating a sinister 'humor' at the gallows of the human comedy.”

  – Author Thomas Ligotti

  "McLaughlin's tales are laugh-out-loud assaults on consensus reality."

  – Paul Di Filippo, ASIMOV'S

  "Reading Mark McLaughlin is a little like stepping out of the door of an airplane in mid flight. The view is pretty amazing, but the shock of impact may do you in ... gruesome, funny and touching. Top that: anybody...."

  – Matthew Nadelhaft, TANGENT

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About The Author

  HUMAN DOLL

  A Novel

  Chapter 1

  December Storm had never eaten at Carne Finta before, but Sinthia told him they should try it, since the buzz deemed it fabulous – the latest trendy eatery. So he agreed to have lunch with her there. According to Sinthia, the name was Italian for ‘fake meat’ and their meat dishes were actually made from plant-based protein.

  He asked if the entrées were all Italian. “Of course not,” Sinthia replied, laughing. “The name’s just ironic.”

  December couldn’t see any irony in the name, but he didn’t bother arguing the point. Sinthia Laretta – also known as Sinclair Lawrence – was used to being the voice of authority in cultural matters. Sinthia was the hostess of Sinthia’s Cabaret, a reality show and talent competition for drag performers. Her status as the show’s creator, producer, and hostess positioned her as the nation’s most popular and influential drag queen.

  While December wasn’t quite as well-known to the general public as Sinthia, he was still considered a celebrity in fashion circles. As a male model, he had upgraded his appearance many times through plastic surgery. The fact that his life partner was a top plastic surgeon expedited the process.

  The procedures he’d received so far included a nose job, dermabrasion, a chin implant, pectoral implants, liposuction, and a Brazilian butt-lift – transferral of his own fat into his buttocks to enhance his curves. He’d received the butt-lift years earlier, after a fashion photographer had told him point-blank that a model with a flat butt was an abomination in the eyes of God.

  Over the years, the media had dubbed him a ‘human doll,’ since his manly features and trim body were as perfectly sculpted as any manly action figure. His thick black hair and bright blue eyes completed the macho image.

  December was also the owner of HeadTurners, a popular modeling agency in Los Angeles. Most of the models were men or former men, with many drag queens and male-to-female transsexuals. One-fourth of the models were women. Most other agencies specialized in female models, but December believed the quickest route to success was to excel in a niche market.

  December appeared regularly on Sinthia’s Cabaret as a judge of the talent competition, which was why he was having lunch with Sinthia. They were going to discuss the upcoming season, and the talents of the six drag queens who would be appearing on the show.

  When he arrived at the restaurant, a perky, bleach-blond young waiter practically skipped up to him. “You must be the human doll!”

  December smiled, mystified. “You’re expecting a human doll today?”

  The waiter nodded happily. “Yes! Your lunch date told me, ‘Keep an eye out for a human doll of the manly variety.’ That has to be you. I mean, look at you! Right this way, please.”

  Sinthia had chosen to show up in her finest drag regalia: full makeup with scarlet matte lipstick, billowing honey-blonde wig, a light-blue Chanel suit, and smooth-leather black pumps. There was no telling how Sinthia would show up for a lunch date. Sometimes, she showed up in a sweatsuit as unadorned Sinclair, a handsome, slender man with dark, thick stubble and salt-and-pepper hair.

  December took his seat. “Don’t you look lovely today, Sinthia.”

  “Back at ya, honey.” Sinthia flashed a wicked grin.

  “How’s David? Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask – how’s the adoption process coming along?”

  “David is fine, thank you. The adoption process is slower than tree sap in winter. We haven’t been approved yet, but at least we’ve reached the stage where we’re talking to a social worker. So we’re making progress.”

  “Awesome! Keep me posted. Feel free to use me as a reference, if you need one.”

  “Will do. Thank you!” She reached out and gave December’s hand a fond squeeze. “How’s that sexy TV doctor?”

  December’s life partner, Dr. Gabe Martin, was host of the medical reality show, Stitched. December was often a special guest on the show, since Gabe had performed the operations that made up the model’s unique look. Most of the guests who appeared on the show were members of the general public who needed to have severe physical appearance concerns corrected. In his role as a special guest, December would make suggestions based on his own experiences with plastic surgery.

  “Gabe’s doing fine, thanks,” he said. “You brought him up in record time, so I take it you need some work done.”

  “Good Lord, am I that predictable? I’ll tell you after our waiter takes our orders. He’s heading this way.”

  Sinthia ordered the plant-based Salisbury steak, while December gave the menu a quick look and ordered the meat-free pork chops. “I usually wouldn’t order pork chops,” he said, “but I don’t have a problem with chops without any pig in them. Now tell me, what kind of work do you think you need?”

  “Production for Season Three starts in a few months, so I have time for a tune-up. I’m getting droopy around the jowls and thick around the middle.” She tapped lightly at her stomach area. “I’m wearing a corset right now. I’ve tried going to the gym to work out, but that just gives me a flat ass. At any rate, I can’t work out too much because I don’t want muscular arms. I may get some
lip injections, but just a little. It’s so easy to go overboard with those, and I don’t want a trout pout.”

  “You’re still in great shape,” December said, “but yes, it wouldn’t hurt to tighten things up. Like you said, there’s enough time to squeeze in a few procedures before shooting starts.”

  Sinthia nodded. “So what would you suggest?”

  “Obviously, Gabe would have the last word, so whatever I suggest isn’t written in stone. But off the top of my head, I’m thinking some liposuction under the chin and around the belly. You’re wearing hip pads right now, but—”

  “How do you know I’m wearing hip pads?” Sinthia raised a plucked and penciled eyebrow.

  “The only time you’re in drag and not wearing hip pads is when you’re in a kaftan or a long robe – or anything else covering your ass.”

  “Sad but true! Please continue.”

  “I was going to say, if you think your ass is getting a little flat, Gabe can transfer some of your excess fat into your ass, to round it out. I don’t think you need a full Brazilian butt-lift. I’m also thinking, an eye-lift for sure.”

  “‘For sure’? Is it that bad?”

  December shrugged. “It’s not bad now, but a stressful season could take its toll. Makeup can only hide so much. I’ll talk to Gabe and see when he can squeeze you into his schedule.”

  “Sounds good! But tell him to take his time when he gets me into the operating room. It’s too good a job to rush!”

  “How did your interview go? You told me some celebrity magazine was going to interview you. I forgot the name. Fizz? Spritz?”

  “Gush. The reporter was nice, but the magazine still screwed up the article.” Sinthia sighed, exasperated.

  “That’s too bad. What did they do?”

  “When I was being interviewed, I told Blake, the reporter, that if the article was about Sinthia, I should be referred to as ‘she,’ and naturally, he should use ‘her’ as well. He assured me, he totally understood what I meant. But when the issue came out, the article called me Sinthia, not Sinclair, but still referred to me with ‘he’ and ‘his.’”

  “Did you call him about it?”

  “I did. He told me he wrote the article correctly. He even emailed me a copy of the original draft to prove it. But apparently Justin, the copy editor, changed it because he assumed I was a man.”

  December smiled. “Of course, Sinclair is a man. But Sinthia isn’t.”

  “Exactly! So I called Justin and explained my point of view to him, for future reference. That conversation went on for a half-hour.”

  “Really? Why’d it take so long?”

  “Because he had so many questions. At one point, I mentioned that some drag queens are transsexuals, and apparently he didn’t realize that. So that opened a whole can of worms. He wanted to know if I was a transsexual, and when I said I wasn’t, he wanted to know which celebrities were, and he was very disappointed that I wouldn’t tell him.” Suddenly Sinthia gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. She nodded toward the front door. “My God! Who in the world is that?”

  December turned to see who had entered. There stood a tall, pale woman dressed in robes of black and white. Her thick black hair, as flat as curtains, hung to her shoulders. Her deep-set black eyes were heavily adorned with black eyeliner, and her full lips were slathered with black lipstick. Her slender throat and arms were covered with tattoos of black Egyptian symbols.

  “She’s gorgeous, in a stylized Goth sort of way,” Sinthia noted. “She’s all black-and-white! Such a bold look. I wonder if she has any talents? Do you think she’d be good for the show?”

  “I hate to disappoint you, but she’s not a drag queen. She’s a real woman, and a good friend of mine, too. She’s Viveka Megamega – an artist, very high-concept. I’ve known her for years. She’s the one who suggested the name December Storm. It was originally Derek Henderson. She told me ‘Derek Henderson’ sounded like a guy who worked in a department store. I’ll catch her eye.”

  December stood up, smiled and waved to the black-and-white woman. Viveka smiled back and headed toward their table. She moved so gracefully, it seemed as though she glided across the floor. She sat at their table and held out her hand to Sinthia.

  “Sinthia Laretta!” she said in a low, soft voice. “What a pleasure to meet you! I adore your show.”

  Sinthia gave her hand a friendly squeeze. “Thank you so much! December tells me you’re an artist. Is your work currently on display anywhere? In town, hopefully?”

  “Not at the moment, but I have some projects in the works.”

  “I’ve been wondering about that,” December said. “Five or six months ago, you took hundreds of pictures of me. Whatever happened to that project?”

  “It’s coming along slowly but splendidly. The project goes far beyond just the photos. It’s turning into quite an extravaganza – a multimedia exhibit.” She turned to Sinthia. “He is, after all, the world-famous human doll. The exhibit will capture his male beauty in a variety of ways, all of them surprising and enlightening.”

  “I’m glad somebody’s capturing my beauty, while it’s still fresh.” The model flashed a sly smile. “I’ll have to stop by your studio sometime to see how it’s coming along.”

  “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Sinthia gazed fondly at December. “Deep down, he’s a humble lad. Success hasn’t spoiled him – at least, not yet.”

  “If you do stop by, December, call first to make sure I’m there. Sometimes I’m out of town for weeks at a time.” Viveka pointed to a young man dressed in black who was standing near the entrance. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch and he just arrived. Again, lovely to meet you, Sinthia. December, we’ll talk later. We need to go out for drinks sometime. I may be suffering from a severe vodka deficiency!”

  Shortly after Viveka left the table, their food arrived. They were both hungry, and happily, the faux meat in their meals was as tasty as the real thing.

  Sinthia turned to December. “When I first saw your friend Viveka, I thought she was a man. Now that I’ve seen her up-close, I wonder if she’s completely human! She’s strange in so many charming ways. Are her hands always so cold?”

  December nodded. “That’s just the way she is. A strange black-and-white being with cold hands! But strange or not, she is a genius. She’s known as an artist, but there’s also a lot of science in her work. She’s absolutely brilliant. I’m lucky she wants to work with me.”

  “When she leaves town for weeks, where does she go?”

  “Everywhere! She’s on the boards of dozens of arts organizations and gives lectures at museums around the globe. She also creates exhibits for those museums. Paris, Seattle, Rome, Berlin, Moscow, you name it. Her creations – especially her sculptures – have been receiving a lot of media attention. She’s always on public TV. Her work is very advanced. Cutting-edge stuff.”

  “Cutting-edge?” Sinthia nodded her approval. “That makes sense. It’s good to be considered upscale. Artists can charge more for fancy intellectual pieces.”

  “She certainly has no shortage of cash. Her studio is gigantic! She converted an old brick bank into her work area. There’s a red neon sign over the entrance that says ‘Gehenna.’”

  “I’ve seen the place! I had no idea what it was. I thought maybe it was a dance club. So when you two go drinking, what’s your poison? I recall she mentioned vodka.”

  “Dirty martinis. Gotta love that olive juice.”

  “Personally, I’m always in the mood for a gin-and-tonic. Now let’s talk about the show so I can count this meeting as a business expense.” Sinthia reached under the table and brought up a black-leather attaché case. She pulled a manila folder out of the case.

  “We have a wonderful batch of girls this season.” Sinthia opened the folder, which was filled with photographs. “Their resumes are taped to the backs of their pics. Let’s push our plates out of the way and make some room. These girls have loads of talent. More than just lip-syncers!
Nine out of ten audition videos come from lip-syncers. This season I’m only featuring one lip-syncer, and only because she’s a fabulous dancer and a gorgeous muscle queen.”

  “You’ve never had a muscle queen on the show before,” December noted. “Now that I think of it, you’ve never had a queen with a beard on the show. I’m seeing more of them lately. Is that something you’d consider?”

  “Certainly. Still, beard or not, they’d need talent. The show’s not just about beauty and fashion. It’s about entertainment, too.”

  “Claudia’s still your co-hostess, I assume?” Claudia Maresko, a fashion model and actress, had been Sinthia’s co-hostess since the very first episode.

  “Of course. Claudia’s fantastic. No problem there.”

  Claudia was beautiful, delightfully sassy, and always respectful of Sinthia, which was key to her success on the show. A few past guests had made some lewd comments, and those guests soon learned they would not be making future appearances on the show. December was always welcome on the show because he treated Sinthia with kindness and respect. If he did make a risque comment, it was mild and playful, never crude, and it portrayed Sinthia as a charming, irresistible femme fatale.

  Sinthia opened the folder and took out a photo of a platinum-blonde drag queen with a pink cowboy hat and a fringed pink Western outfit. She was shown strumming a white guitar trimmed with pink.

  “This is Georgia Peechy. Absolutely gorgeous! Such delicate features – most men mistake her for the real thing. A lovely voice, and she plays her own guitar. She released a couple singles and they did surprisingly well with the country and western crowd. She’s a popular attraction at county fairs. She loves to joke with the audience. Great sense of humor.”

  December looked at the photo. “Beautiful! Glad she has a sense of humor. I hate the argumentative queens. It’s like they’re mad at the world, so they take it out on the audience. They’re supposed to make people want to smile, not change the channel.”