شبی با عروسک زنده فصل 13

Night of the Living Dummy - Chapter 13

“Kris, are you okay?” Lindy cried, turning her eyes away from the grinning, jewelry-covered dummy.

Kris didn’t seem to hear her.

“Are you okay?” Lindy repeated the question.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Kris stammered, her back pressed against the wall, her expression taut with terror. “Who—who did this? Did Mr. Wood—?” Lindy started to reply. But their mother’s howl of surprise from the doorway cut off her words. “Mom—” Lindy cried, spinning around.

Mrs. Powell clicked on the ceiling light. The kitchen seemed to flare up. All three of them blinked, struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“What on earth!” Mrs. Powell cried. She started to call to her husband, then remembered he wasn’t home. “I—I don’t believe this!” Barky came bounding into the room, his tail wagging. He lowered his head and started to lick up some spilled milk.

“Out you go,” Mrs. Powell said sternly. She picked up the dog, carried him out, and closed the kitchen door. Then she strode into the center of the room, shaking her head, her bare feet narrowly missing the puddle of milk.

“I came down for a drink, and I—I found this mess,” Kris said in a trembling voice. “The food. My jewelry. Everything…” “Mr. Wood did it,” Lindy accused. “Look at him!”

“Stop it! Stop it!” Mrs. Powell screamed. “I’ve had enough.”

Mrs. Powell surveyed the mess, frowning and tugging at a strand of blonde hair. Her eyes stopped on Mr. Wood, and she uttered a groan of disgust.

“I knew it,” she said in a low voice, raising her eyes accusingly to the two girls. “I knew this had something to do with those ventriloquist dummies.” “Mr. Wood did it, Mom,” Kris said heatedly, stepping away from the wall, her hands tensed into fists. “I know it sounds dumb, but—” “Stop it,” Mrs. Powell ordered, narrowing her eyes. “This is just sick. Sick!” She stared hard at the jewel-bedecked dummy, who grinned up at her over the big platter of chicken.

“I’m going to take the dummies away from you both,” Mrs. Powell said, turning back to Lindy and Kris. “This whole thing has just gotten out of control.” “No!” Kris cried.

“That’s not fair!” Lindy declared.

“I’m sorry. They have to be put away,” Mrs. Powell said firmly. She let her eyes move over the cluttered floor, and let out another weary sigh. “Look at my kitchen.” “But I didn’t do anything!” Lindy screamed.

“I need Mr. Wood for the spring concert!” Kris protested. “Everyone is counting on me, Mom.” Mrs. Powell glanced from one to the other. Her eyes stayed on Kris. “That’s your dummy on the floor, right?” “Yeah,” Kris told her. “But I didn’t do this. I swear!”

“You both swear you didn’t do it, right?” Mrs. Powell said, suddenly looking very tired under the harsh ceiling light.

“Yes,” Lindy answered quickly.

“Then you both lose your dummies. I’m sorry,” Mrs. Powell said. “One of you is lying. I—I really can’t believe this.” A heavy silence blanketed the room as all three Powells stared down in dismay at the mess on the floor.

Kris was the first to speak. “Mom, what if Lindy and I clean everything up?”

Lindy caught on quickly. Her face brightened. “Yeah. What if we put everything back. Right now. Make the kitchen just like normal. Make it spotless. Can we keep our dummies?” Mrs. Powell shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. Look at this mess. All the vegetables are spoiled. And the milk.” “We’ll replace it all,” Kris said quickly. “With our allowance. And we’ll clean it up perfectly. Please. If we do that, give us one more chance?” Mrs. Powell twisted her face in concentration, debating with herself. She stared at her daughters’ eager faces. “Okay,” she replied finally. “I want the kitchen spotless when I come down in the morning. All the food, all the jewelry. Everything back where it goes.” “Okay,” both girls said in unison.

“And I don’t want to see either of those dummies down here in my kitchen again,” Mrs. Powell demanded. “If you can do that, I’ll give you one more chance.” “Great!” both girls cried at once.

“And I don’t want to hear any more arguments about those dummies,” Mrs. Powell continued. “No more fights. No more competing. No more blaming everything on the dummies. I don’t want to hear anything about them. Ever.” “You won’t,” Kris promised, glancing at her sister.

“Thanks, Mom,” Lindy said. “You go to bed. We’ll clean up.” She gave her mother a gentle shove toward the doorway.

“Not another word,” Mrs. Powell reminded them.

“Right, Mom,” the twins agreed.

Their mother disappeared toward her room. They began to clean up. Kris pulled a large garbage bag from the drawer and held it while Lindy tossed in empty cartons and spoiled food.

Kris carefully collected her jewelry and carried it upstairs.

Neither girl spoke. They worked in silence, picking up, cleaning, and mopping until the kitchen was clean. Lindy closed the refrigerator door. She yawned loudly.

Kris inspected the floor on her hands and knees, making sure it was spotless. Then she picked up Mr. Wood. He grinned back at her as if it was all a big joke.

This dummy has been nothing but trouble, Kris thought.

Nothing but trouble.

She followed Lindy out of the kitchen, clicking off the light as she left. The two girls climbed the stairs silently. Neither of them had spoken a word.

Pale moonlight filtered into their room through the open window. The air felt hot and steamy.

Kris glanced at the clock. It was a little past three in the morning.

Slappy sat slumped in the chair in front of the window, moonlight shining on his grinning face. Lindy, yawning, climbed into bed, pushed down the blanket, and pulled up the sheet. She turned her face away from her sister.

Kris lowered Mr. Wood from her shoulder. You’re nothing but trouble, she thought angrily, holding him in front of her and staring at his grinning face.

Nothing but trouble.

Mr. Wood’s wide, leering grin seemed to mock her.

A chill of fear mixed with her anger.

I’m beginning to hate this dummy, she thought.

Fear him and hate him.

Angrily, she pulled open the closet door and tossed the dummy into the closet. It fell in a crumpled heap on the closet floor.

Kris slammed the closet door shut.

Her heart thudding, she climbed into bed and pulled up the covers. She suddenly felt very tired. Her entire body ached from weariness.

She buried her face in the pillow and shut her eyes.

She had just about fallen asleep when she heard the tiny voice.

“Let me out! Let me out of here!” it cried. A muffled voice, coming from inside the closet.