The French Doll

****This was written to be fiction, but it's more historical fiction, since some of it is true****

Before Roy had shipped off to France to fight in World War I, he’d finally focused on one girl—the boss’s daughter.  Vivian Maupin wasn’t as pretty as the other girls but she was kind, fun to be with and came from one of the best families in DeSoto, Missouri, a small town outside of St. Louis.  DeSoto had two industries—the shoe factories and the round house for Missouri Pacific Railroad where the engines came for repairs.  Vivian’s father was the superintendent of the round house where Roy had worked as a boiler maker.

Private first class Roy Long had just arrived in France and was looking for something to send Vivian whose ancestors had been French.  He walked through the market and wondered what he could send her to let her know he was thinking of her.  She was just a few years older than his sisters—what would they like? 

He felt drawn to a  booth with trinkets and dolls.  His sisters would love a doll from France, maybe Vivian would, too.  He picked up one with red hair, pouting lips and big flirty eyes that seem to be beckoning him. Her hat tilted to the side was certainly different from the bonnets worn by his sisters.  He hoped Vivian would know by this gift that he loved her and would stay by her side.

“How much is this doll?” he asked the small, mustached merchant.

“Parlez vous Francais?” 

Roy spoke English and a little German but no French. He repeated, "How much is the doll?"

The merchant shrugged his shoulders, unable to understand.

Roy then heard a small voice speaking to the merchant.  The merchant listened, smiled and nodded.  Roy looked around for a child but didn’t see one.  The merchant held up a coin and indicated with his hands that was what Roy needed to pay for the doll.

Roy found the coin in his pocket and paid the merchant.  As the merchant began wrapping the doll in paper, Roy asked, “What is her name?”  He had forgotten the merchant couldn't speak English.  The merchant leaned toward the package, listening to a muffled murmur before he responded, “Vivienne.”