Buttons and Rubies : A personal tribute to Tim Burton

Milly was a seven-year-old child whose favorite things were buttons and red rubies. Although she was able to find buttons anywhere (on old dresses and dolls) the rubies… well, they were just a bit harder to come across. But this fact did not hinder the love for rubies of little Milly, or Lucy, a worn down, hand-sewn doll. Lucy’s right arm was nearly gone and her right leg was holding on by only one cream-colored stitch. The doll had a face twisted into an almost-too -big grin. There was a coffee-stained outline where her left button eye was once sewn. White, dreadlocked yarn hair and plaid overall dress, this was Lucy.

Milly had short, black, stringy hair almost down to her shoulders. Overgrown bangs kept her eyes lurking in her own mysterious shadows slightly impairing her vision. Her dress was pin striped; the black and white fabric cut off at her white-tight covered knees.

One evening, Milly was walking along Timothy Street downtown, hanging on to Lucy’s only good arm. Milly’s parents fought often so she would usually see herself out the door during a dispute. Idealistically, she would roam around people watching. The only day that she stayed home was on Fridays when her mom, a teacher at Bethel Middle School, would bring home an extra piece of chalkboard chalk for Milly to draw with.

Lucy dangled and skidded the ground as Milly skipped down the straight rocky sidewalk. Timothy Street was known to be a hot hangout place for the wealthier people around town in the evenings. Wealthy folks were found loitering up and down the sidewalks. They mainly gathered at the clubs to discuss fortune, inheritance, and hard-earned cash. Milly always dreamt of being rich, for they could afford more buttons and rubies than she could imagine.

Milly was chilled sitting on the curb across the street from "The Million Dollar Club." Many nights she observed people of money always walked in and out of that club. Milly would go there to observe the stride, attitude, and mostly the jewelry of the confident contemporaries. On that particular winter star night, she watched the higher class extra carefully.

Sad and alone, a chubby, gray-haired lady walked out and caught the attention of little Miss Milly. Fox fur strangled the woman’s neck and draped over her black button up suit and down to her tight seamed silk skirt. What caught Milly’s attention, though, was not the buttons on the suit, for Milly already had many buttons, but the single, gleaming, red ruby wired and resting on the stage of her chest.

Excited, Milly shot up and ran across the street desiring just one closer look at the crimson crystal. Skipping quickly and without thought, she bounced forward and tripped over the curb. Lucy went flying out of Milly’s hand, through the air, and skidded on the ice right in front of the ruby queen. A loud man-like bellow echoed from the woman’s mouth as her heel was taken across the rink by the antique doll. A painful clunk in the silent night, the woman lay motionless on the ground, her neck twisted in an unnatural position.

Milly got up in the morning and played with Lucy on her bedroom floor. Lucy’s smile seemed bigger that day. It could have been Milly’s childish imagination, but maybe Lucy was just happier that she could see better with her new, ruby, left eye.