شبی با عروسک زنده 2 فصل 02

Night of the Living Dummy 2 - Chapter 2

My mouth dropped open in shock. I stared at the painting, unable to speak.

When Sara saw it, she let out a shriek. “I—I don’t believe it!” she screamed. “Who did that?” Someone had painted a yellow-and-black smile face in the corner of her painting. Right in the middle of the black rock cliff. Mom and Dad stepped up to the easel, fretful expressions on their faces. They studied the smile face, then turned to Jed.

Jed burst out laughing. “Do you like it?” he asked innocently.

“Jed—how could you!” Sara exploded. “I’ll kill you! I really will!”

“The painting was too dark,” Jed explained with a shrug. “I wanted to brighten it up.” “But… but… but…” my sister sputtered. She balled her hands into fists, shook them at Jed, and uttered a loud cry of rage.

“Jed—what were you doing in Sara’s room?” Mom demanded.

Sara doesn’t like for anyone to go into her precious room without a written invitation!

“Young man, you know you’re never allowed to touch your sister’s paintings,” Dad scolded.

“I can paint, too,” Jed replied. “I’m a good painter.”

“Then do your own paintings!” Sara snapped. “Don’t sneak in here and mess up my work!” “I didn’t sneak,” Jed insisted. He sneered at Sara. “I was just trying to help.”

“You were not!” Sara screamed, angrily tossing her black hair over her shoulder. “You ruined my painting!” “Your painting reeks!” Jed shot back.

“Enough!” Mom shouted. She grabbed Jed by both shoulders. “Jed—look at me! You don’t seem to see how serious this is. This is the worst thing you’ve ever done!” Jed’s smile finally faded.

I took another glance at the ugly smile face he had slopped on to Sara’s watercolor. Since he’s the baby in the family, Jed thinks he can get away with anything.

But I knew that this time he had gone too far.

After all, Sara is the star of the family. She’s the talented one. The one with the painting that hung in a museum. Messing with Sara’s precious painting was bound to get Jed in major trouble.

Sara is so stuck-up about her paintings. A few times, I even thought about painting something funny on one of them. But of course I only thought it. I would never do anything that horrible.

“You don’t have to be jealous of your sister’s work,” Dad was telling Jed. “We’re all talented in this family.” “Oh, sure,” Jed muttered. He has this weird habit. Whenever he’s in trouble, he doesn’t say he’s sorry. Instead, he gets really angry. “What’s your talent, Dad?” Jed demanded, sneering.

Dad’s jaw tightened. He narrowed his eyes at Jed. “We’re not discussing me,” he said in a low voice. “But I’ll tell you. My talent is my Chinese cooking. You see, there are all kinds of talents, Jed.” Dad considers himself a Master of the Wok. Once or twice a week, he chops a ton of vegetables into little pieces and fries them up in the electric wok Mom got him for Christmas.

We pretend it tastes great.

No point in hurting Dad’s feelings.

“Is Jed going to be punished or not?” Sara demanded in a shrill voice.

She had opened her box of watercolor paints and was rolling a brush in the black. Then she began painting over the smile face with quick, furious strokes.

“Yes, Jed is going to be punished,” Mom replied, glaring at him. Jed lowered his eyes to the floor. “First he’s going to apologize to Sara.” We all waited.

It took Jed a while. But he finally managed to mutter, “Sorry, Sara.”

He started to leave the room, but Mom grabbed his shoulders again and pulled him back. “Not so fast, Jed,” she told him. “Your punishment is you can’t go to the movies with Josh and Matt on Saturday. And… no video games for a week.” “Mom—give me a break!” Jed whined.

“What you did was really bad,” Mom said sternly. “Maybe this punishment will make you realize how horrible it was.” “But I have to go to the movies!” Jed protested.

“You can’t,” Mom replied softly. “And no arguing, or I’ll add on to your punishment. Now go to your room.” “I don’t think it’s enough punishment,” Sara said, dabbing away at her painting.

“Keep out of it, Sara,” Mom snapped.

“Yeah. Keep out of it,” Jed muttered. He stomped out of the room and down the long hall to his room.

Dad sighed. He swept a hand back over his bald head. “Family Sharing Night is over,” he said sadly.

I stayed in Sara’s room and watched her repair the painting for a while. She kept tsk-tsking and shaking her head.

“I have to make the rocks much darker, or the paint won’t cover the stupid smile face,” she explained unhappily. “But if I make the rocks darker, I have to change the sky. The whole balance is ruined.” “I think it looks pretty good,” I told her, trying to cheer her up.

“How could Jed do that?” Sara demanded, dipping her brush in the water jar. “How could he sneak in here and totally destroy a work of art?” I was feeling sorry for Sara. But that remark made me lose all sympathy. I mean, why couldn’t she just call it a watercolor painting? Why did she have to call it “a work of art”?

Sometimes she is so stuck-up and so in love with herself, it makes me sick.

I turned and left the room. She didn’t even notice.

I went down the hall to my room and called my friend Margo. We talked for a while about stuff. And we made plans to get together the next day.

As I talked on the phone, I could hear Jed in his room next door. He was pacing back and forth, tossing things around, making a lot of noise.

Sometimes I spell the word “Jed” B-R-A-T.

Margo’s dad made her get off the phone. He’s real strict. He never lets her talk for more than ten or fifteen minutes.

I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes. My favorite late snack. When I was a little kid, I used to have a bowl of cereal every night before bed. And I just never got out of the habit.

I rinsed out the bowl. Then I said good night to Mom and Dad and went to bed.

It was a warm spring night. A soft breeze fluttered the curtains over the window. Pale light from a big half-moon filled the window and spilled on to the floor.

I fell into a deep sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

A short while later, something woke me up. I’m not sure what.

Still half asleep, I blinked my eyes open and raised myself on my pillow. I struggled to see clearly.

The curtains flapped over the window.

I felt as if I were still asleep, dreaming.

But what I saw in the window snapped me awake.

The curtains billowed, then lifted away.

And in the silvery light, I saw a face.

An ugly, grinning face in my bedroom window. Staring through the darkness at me.