شبی با عروسک زنده فصل 22

Night of the Living Dummy - Chapter 22

“We’ll bury him,” Kris said.

“Huh?” Lindy stifled a yawn.

They had been whispering together for what seemed like hours. As they tried to come up with a plan, they could hear the dummy’s muffled cries from inside the closet.

“We’ll bury him. Under that huge mound of dirt,” Kris explained, her eyes going to the window. “You know. Next door, at the side of the new house.” “Yeah. Okay. I don’t know,” Lindy replied. “I’m so tired, I can’t think straight.” She glanced at the bed table clock. It was nearly three-thirty in the morning. “I still think we should wake up Mom and Dad,” Lindy said, fear reflected in her eyes.

“We can’t,” Kris told her. “We’ve been over that a hundred times. They won’t believe us. If we wake them up, we’ll be in even bigger trouble.” “How could we be in bigger trouble?” Lindy demanded, gesturing with her head to the closet where Mr. Wood’s angry cries could still be heard.

“Get dressed,” Kris said with renewed energy. “We’ll bury him under all that dirt. Then we’ll never have to think about him again.” Lindy shuddered and turned her eyes to her dummy, folded up in the chair. “I can’t bear to look at Slappy anymore. I’m so sorry I got us interested in dummies.” “Ssshhh. Just get dressed,” Kris said impatiently.

A few minutes later, the two girls crept down the stairs in the darkness. Kris carried the suitcase in both arms, trying to muffle the sound of Mr. Wood’s angry protests.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened for any sign that they had awakened their parents.

Silence.

Lindy pulled open the front door and they slipped outside.

The air was surprisingly cool and wet. A heavy dew had begun to fall, making the front lawn glisten under the light of a half-moon. Blades of wet grass clung to their sneakers as they made their way to the garage.

As Kris held onto the suitcase, Lindy slowly, quietly, pulled open the garage door. When it was halfway up, she ducked and slipped inside.

A few seconds later she emerged, carrying a large snow shovel. “This should do it,” she said, whispering even though no one was around.

Kris glanced down the street as they headed across the yard to the lot next door. The heavy morning dew misted the glow of the streetlamps, making the pale light appear to bend and flicker like candles. Everything seemed to shimmer under the dark purple sky.

Kris set the suitcase down beside the tall mound of dirt. “We’ll dig right down here,” she said, pointing toward the bottom of the mound. “We’ll shove him in and cover him.” “I’m warning you,” Mr. Wood threatened, listening inside the suitcase. “Your plan won’t work. I have powers!” “You dig first,” Kris told her sister, ignoring the dummy’s threat. “Then I’ll take a turn.” Lindy dug into the pile and heaved up a shovelful of dirt. Kris shivered. The heavy dew felt cold and damp. A cloud floated over the moon, darkening the sky from purple to black.

“Let me out!” Mr. Wood called. “Let me out now, and your punishment won’t be too severe.”

“Dig faster,” Kris whispered impatiently.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Lindy replied. She had dug a pretty good-sized square-shaped hole at the base of the mound. “How much deeper, do you think?” “Deeper,” Kris said. “Here. Watch the suitcase. I’ll take a turn.” She changed places with Lindy and started to dig.

Something scampered heavily near the low shrubs that separated the yards. Kris looked up, saw a moving shadow, and gasped.

“Raccoon, I think,” Lindy said with a shudder. “Are we going to bury Mr. Wood in the suitcase, or are we going to take him out?” “Think Mom will notice the suitcase is gone?” Kris asked, tossing a shovelful of wet dirt to the side.

Lindy shook her head. “We never use it.”

“We’ll bury him in the suitcase,” Kris said. “It’ll be easier.”

“You’ll be sorry,” the dummy rasped. The suitcase shook and nearly toppled onto its side.

“I’m so sleepy,” Lindy moaned, tossing her socks onto the floor, then sliding her feet under the covers.

“I’m wide awake,” Kris replied, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I guess it’s because I’m so happy. So happy we got rid of that awful creature.” “It’s all so weird,” Lindy said, adjusting her pillow behind her head. “I don’t blame Mom or Dad for not believing it. I’m not sure I believe it, either.” “You put the shovel back where you found it?” Kris asked.

Lindy nodded. “Yeah,” she said sleepily.

“And you closed the garage door?”

“Ssshhh. I’m asleep,” Lindy said. “At least there’s no school tomorrow. We can sleep late.” “I hope I can fall asleep,” Kris said doubtfully. “I’m just so pumped. It’s all like some kind of hideously gross nightmare. I just think… Lindy? Lindy—are you still awake?” No. Her sister had fallen asleep.

Kris stared up at the ceiling. She pulled the blankets up to her chin. She still felt chilled. She couldn’t shake the cold dampness of the early morning air.

After a short while, with thoughts of everything that had happened that night whirring crazily in her head, Kris fell asleep, too.

The rumble of machines woke her up at eight-thirty the next morning. Stretching, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, Kris stumbled to the window, leaned over the chair holding Slappy, and peered out.

It was a gray, cloudy day. Two enormous yellow steamrollers were rolling over the lot next door behind the newly constructed house, flattening the land.

I wonder if they’re going to flatten that big mound of dirt, Kris thought, staring down at them. That would really be excellent.

Kris smiled. She hadn’t slept very long, but she felt refreshed.

Lindy was still sound asleep. Kris tiptoed past her, pulled her robe on, and headed downstairs.

“Morning, Mom,” she called brightly, tying the belt to her robe as she entered the kitchen.

Mrs. Powell turned from the sink to face her. Kris was surprised to see an angry expression on her face.

She followed her mother’s stare to the breakfast counter.

“Oh!” Kris gasped when she saw Mr. Wood. He was seated at the counter, his hands in his lap. His hair was matted with red-brown dirt, and he had dirt smears on his cheeks and forehead.

Kris raised her hands to her face in horror.

“I thought you were told never to bring that thing down here!” Mrs. Powell scolded. “What do I have to do, Kris?” She turned angrily back to the sink.

The dummy winked at Kris and flashed her a wide, evil grin.