شبی با عروسک زنده فصل 11

Night of the Living Dummy - Chapter 11

“Now, Mr. Wood, do you go to school?”

“Of course I do. Do you think I’m a dummy?”

“And what’s your favorite class?”

“Wood shop, of course!”

“What project are you building in shop class, Mr. Wood?”

“I’m building a girl dummy! What else? Ha-ha! Think I want to spend the rest of my life on your lap?!” Kris sat in front of the dressing table mirror with Mr. Wood on her lap, studying herself as she practiced her routine for the school concert.

Mr. Wood had been well-behaved for two days. No frightening, mysterious incidents. Kris was beginning to feel better. Maybe everything would go okay from now on.

She leaned close to the mirror, watching her lips as she made the dummy talk.

The b’s and the m’s were impossible to pronounce without moving her lips. She’d just have to avoid those sounds as best she could.

I’m getting better at switching from Mr. Wood’s voice back to mine, she thought happily. But I’ve got to switch faster. The faster he and I talk, the funnier it is.

“Let’s try it again, Mr. Wood,” she said, pulling her chair closer to the mirror.

“Work, work, work,” she made the dummy grumble.

Before she could begin the routine, Lindy came rushing breathlessly into the room. Kris watched her sister in the mirror as she came up behind her, her long hair flying loosely over her shoulders, an excited smile on her face.

“Guess what?” Lindy asked.

Kris started to reply, but Lindy didn’t give her a chance.

“Mrs. Petrie was at Amy Marshall’s birthday party,” Lindy gushed excitedly. “She works for Channel Three. You know. The TV station. And she thinks I’m good enough to go on Talent Search, the show they have every week.” “Huh? Really?” was all Kris could manage in reply.

Lindy leapt excitedly in the air and cheered. “Slappy and I are going to be on TV!” she cried. “Isn’t that fabulous?” Staring at her sister’s jubilant reflection in the mirror, Kris felt a stab of jealousy.

“I’ve got to tell Mom!” Lindy declared. “Hey, Mom! Mom!” She ran from the room. Kris heard her shouting all the way down the stairs.

“Aaaaaargh!” Kris couldn’t hold it in. She uttered an angry cry.

“Why does everything good happen to Lindy?” Kris screamed aloud. “I’m hosting a stupid concert for maybe a hundred parents—and she’s going to be on TV! I’m just as good as she is. Maybe better!” In a rage, she raised Mr. Wood high over her head and slammed him to the floor.

The dummy’s head made a loud clonk as it hit the hardwood floor. The wide mouth flew open as if about to scream.

“Oh.” Kris struggled to regain her composure.

Mr. Wood, crumpled at her feet, stared up at her accusingly.

Kris lifted him up and cradled the dummy against her. “There, there, Mr. Wood,” she whispered soothingly. “Did I hurt you? Did I? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” The dummy continued to stare up at her. His painted grin hadn’t changed, but his eyes seemed cold and unforgiving.

It was a still night. No breeze. The curtains in front of the open bedroom window didn’t flutter or move. Pale silver moonlight filtered in, creating long, purple shadows that appeared to creep across the girls’ bedroom.

Lindy had been sleeping fitfully, a light sleep filled with busy, colorful dreams. She was startled awake by a sound. A gentle thud.

“Huh?” she raised her head from the damp pillow and turned.

Someone was moving in the darkness.

The sounds she’d heard were footsteps.

“Hey!” she whispered, wide awake now. “Who is it?”

The figure turned in the doorway, a shadow against even blacker shadows. “It’s only me,” came a whispered reply.

“Kris?”

“Yeah. Something woke me up. My throat is sore,” Kris whispered from the doorway. “I’m going down to the kitchen for a glass of water.” She disappeared into the shadows. Her head still raised off the pillow, Lindy listened to her footsteps padding down the stairs.

When the sounds faded, Lindy shut her eyes and lowered her head to the pillow.

A few seconds later, she heard Kris’ scream of horror.