Through the french doors, what is walking toward you? Small mechanical doll of the Virgin Mary, key turning in her back, closer step-by-step. A child crashes through the yard splashing mud on her, then turns her aside toward the left. You're amused and somewhat frightened, and you run to the backyard treehouse to use the phone. There's a choice of two extensions. Pick one, a voice answers from childhood: the son of your mother's best friend. Where are you?, he asks. Turn around and look! - I'm standing right there. I want to show you a doll I've found.