Dibs: In Search of Self

by Virginia M. Axline

doll family. “I see Papa is here,” he said. “And Mother. And there are the sister and the boy. They are all here in the house.” He replaced them and walked over to the window

Sometimes I am afraid of people.”

“But sometimes I’m not afraid of people,” he added. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“No,” he said. He sighed. “I’m not afraid now when I’m with you.”

“I am a boy,” he said slowly. “I have a father, a mother, a sister. But I do have a grandmother and she loves me. Grandmother has always loved me. But not Papa. Papa has not always loved me.”

Dibs twisted his hands together. “Papa likes me some better now,” he said. “Papa talks to me.”

“I have a microscope,” he said. “I look at many interesting things under the microscope. Then I can see them bigger than they are and I know them better.

Dibs was off again into the safe world of his intellectualism.

“In here I am safe,” he said. “You won’t let anything hurt me.”

“The mother is going for a walk in the park,” he said. “She wants to be alone and so she goes walking in the park where she can see the trees and flowers and birds. She even goes over to the lake and watches the water.”

“She finds a bench and sits down to feel the sun because she likes the sun.” He placed the mother doll on a block and returned to the house. He picked up the sister doll. “The sister is going away to school. They have packed the bags and sent her away from home and she goes far away all by herself.” He moved the sister doll to a far corner of the playroom. Then he returned to the doll house and picked up the father doll.

“He is in the house alone. He is reading and studying and he must not be disturbed. He is all alone. He does not want to be bothered. He lights his pipe and he smokes because he can’t decide what to do. Then he goes over and unlocks the little boy’s room.” He quickly put down the father doll and picked up the little boy doll. “The boy opens the door and runs out of the house because he doesn’t like the locked doors.” He moved the boy doll, but not too far away from the house.

Dibs buried his face in his hands and was very quiet while the minutes ticked away.

“So Papa goes out for a walk, too, because he

doesn’t know what to do. He walks down the street and there are lots of cars and buses and traffic going by making such a big noise and P...

down the street to the toy store and he is going to buy some wonderful new toys for his boy. He thinks maybe the boy would like a microscope. So...

Dibs got up and paced the room, glancing at me from time to time.

“He called and called to the boy and the boy came running in.” Dibs brought the boy doll back beside the father. “But the boy ran in so fast he bumped into the table and upset the lamp. The father cried out that the boy was stupid. A stupid, silly, careless boy! ‘Why did you do that?’ he demanded, but the boy wouldn’t answer him. The father was very angry and told the boy to go to his room. He said he was a stupid, silly child and he was ashamed of him.”

Dibs was tensed up, immersed in this scene he was playing out.

“The boy slipped out

of the house and hid,” Dibs whispered. “The father didn’t notice what happened. Then...”

“The mother was finished with her park visit and so she came back. The father was still very angry and he told the mother what the stupid boy had done. And the mother said ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! What is the matter with him?’ Then all of a sudden a boy giant came along. He was so big nobody could ever hurt him.”

“This giant boy saw the mother and father in the house and he heard what angry things they said. So he decided to teach them a lesson. He went all around the house and he locked every window and every door so they could not get out. They were both locked in.”

His face was pale and grim. “You see what is happening?” he said.

“Then the father says he is going to smoke his pipe and he gets it out and gets some matches and he strikes a match and drops it on the floor and the room catches on fire.

The house is on fire! The house is on fire! And they cannot get out. They are locked in the house and the fire is burning faster and faster. The little boy sees them in the house where they are locked in and burning and he says ‘Let them burn! Let them burn!’”

quick, darting snatches at the mother and father doll as though he would save them, but he drew back and shielded his face as though the fire he imagined was very real and burning h...

“They scream and cry and beat on the door. They want to get out. But the house is burning and they are locked in and they can’t get out. They scream and cry for help.”

Dibs clasped his hands together and tears streamed down his face. “I weep! I weep!” he cried to me. “Because of this I weep!”

“Oh no!” Dibs replied. A sob caught his voice and broke it. He stumbled across the room to me and flung his arms around my neck while he wept bitter tears.

“I weep because I feel again the hurt of doors closed and locked against me,” he sobbed. I put my arm around him.

“The boy will save them,” he said. He went to the boy doll and took him to the house. “I’ll save you! I’ll save you!” he cried. “I’ll unlock the doors and let you out. And so the little boy unlocked the doors and put the fire out and his father and mother were safe.”

He came back to me and touched my hand. He smiled wanly. “I saved them,” he said. “I didn’t let them get all burned up and hurt.” “You helped them. You saved them,” I said.

Note

“They used to lock me in my room,” he said. “They don’t do it any more, but they used to.”

Note

“Not any more,” Dibs said, and a trembling sigh escaped him.

Interesting

It had been a rough hour for Dibs. His feelings had torn through him without mercy. The locked doors in Dibs’ young life had brought him intense suffering. Not the locked door of his room at home, but all the doors of acceptance that had been closed and locked against him, depriving him of the love, respect, and understanding he needed so desperately.

Note

“However I feel. However I feel, I will be.”

He was relaxed and happy now. When he left the playroom he seemed to leave behind him the sorrowful feelings he had uprooted there.

He likes tinkering

“Papa doesn’t like me to talk to the air, but in here I will if I feel like it.”

“Papa says people just talk to people,” Dibs said. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Papa says I ought to talk to him, but I don’t. I listen to him, but I don’t talk to him. No, often I do not answer him. It upsets him very much.”

Dibs was an expert at withholding speech as a way of getting back at his critical father.

He stood up the father doll and aimed the gun at him. “Don’t you say a word or I’ll shoot you,” he said to the doll. “Don’t you open your mouth once more.” He clicked the gun. “I’m getting ready. If you are not careful, I’ll shoot you.”

Note

Dibs seemed almost to jump. He looked at me directly with angry eyes. “No! No!” he shouted. “Don’t want anybody else in here!”

Dibs seemed to slump. “Nobody else would come,” he said sadly.

“No,” Dibs mumbled. “Nobody likes me. Nobody would come.”

“No!” shouted Dibs. “This is mine! I want it all mine! I don’t want anybody else to ever come here. I want this just for me and for you.” He seemed close to tears. He turned his back to me.