شبی با عروسک زنده 2 فصل 12

Night of the Living Dummy 2 - Chapter 12

I burst into the house and let the screen door slam behind me. I had taken the city bus to Logan Street. Then I had run the six blocks to my house with Slappy hanging over my shoulder.

“Amy, how did it go?” Mom called from the kitchen. “Did you get a ride? I thought we were supposed to come pick you up.” I didn’t answer her. I was sobbing too hard. I ran down the hall to my room and slammed the door.

I hoisted Slappy off my shoulder and tossed him into the closet. I never wanted to see him again. Never.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the dresser mirror. My cheeks were swollen and puffy from crying. My eyes were red. My hair was wet and tangled, and matted to my forehead.

I took several deep breaths and tried to stop crying.

I kept hearing that poor little girl’s screams in my ears. Slappy finally let go of her after he uttered his ugly laugh.

But Alicia couldn’t stop crying. She was so frightened! And her little hand was red and swollen.

The other kids were all screaming and crying, too.

Alicia’s mother was furious. She called Margo’s dad out from the kitchen. She was shaking and sputtering with anger. She said she was going to sue The Party House.

Margo’s dad quietly asked me to leave. He led me to the front door. He said it wasn’t my fault. But he said the kids were too frightened of Slappy now. There was no way I could do my show.

I saw Margo hurrying over to me. But I turned and ran out the door.

I had never been so upset. I didn’t know what to do. A light rain had started to come down. I watched rainwater flow down the curb and into the sewer drain. I wanted to flow away with it.

Now I threw myself onto my bed.

I kept picturing little Alicia, screaming and crying, trying to twist out of Slappy’s grasp.

Mom knocked hard on my bedroom door. “Amy? Amy—what are you doing? What’s wrong?” “Go away!” I wailed. “Just go away.”

But she opened the door and stepped into the room. Sara came in behind her, a confused expression on her face.

“Amy—the show didn’t go well?” Mom asked softly.

“Go away!” I sobbed. “Please!”

“Amy, you’ll do better next time,” Sara said, stepping up to the bed. She put a hand on my trembling shoulder.

“Shut up!” I cried. “Shut up, Miss Perfect!”

I didn’t mean to sound so angry. I was out of control.

Sara stepped back, hurt.

“Tell us what happened,” Mom insisted. “You’ll feel better if you tell us.” I pulled myself up until I was sitting on the edge of the bed. I wiped my eyes and brushed my wet hair off my face.

And then, suddenly, the whole story burst out of me.

I told how Slappy grabbed Alicia’s hand and wouldn’t let go. And how all the kids were crying. And the parents were all screaming and making a fuss. And how I had to leave without doing my act.

And then I leaped to my feet, threw my arms around my mom, and started to sob again.

She petted my hair, the way she used to do when I was a little girl. She kept whispering, “Ssshh shhhh shhhh.” Slowly, I began to calm down.

“This is so weird,” Sara murmured, shaking her head.

“I’m a little worried about you,” Mom said, holding my hands. “The little girl got her hand caught. That’s all. You don’t really believe that the dummy grabbed her hand—do you?” Mom stared at me hard, studying me.

She thinks I’m crazy, I realized. She thinks I’m totally messed up.

She doesn’t believe me.

I decided I’d better not insist that my story was true. I shook my head. “Yeah. I guess her hand got caught,” I said, lowering my eyes to the floor.

“Maybe you should put Slappy away for a while,” Mom suggested, biting her bottom lip.

“Yeah. You’re right,” I agreed. I pointed. “I already put him in the closet.” “Good idea,” Mom replied. “Leave him in there for a while. I think you’ve been spending too much time with that dummy.” “Yeah. You need a new hobby,” Sara chimed in.

“It wasn’t a hobby!” I snapped.

“Well, leave him in the closet for a few days—okay, Amy?” Mom said.

I nodded. “I never want to see him again,” I muttered.

I thought I heard a sigh from inside the closet. But, of course, that was my imagination.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Mom instructed. “Wash your face. Then come to the kitchen and I’ll make you a snack.” “Okay,” I agreed.

Sara followed Mom out the door. “Weird,” I heard Sara mutter. “Amy is getting so weird.” Margo called after dinner. She said she felt terrible about what had happened. She said her dad didn’t blame me. “He wants to give you another chance,” Margo told me. “Maybe with older kids.” “Thanks,” I replied. “But I put Slappy away for a while. I don’t know if I want to be a ventriloquist anymore.” “At the party today—what happened?” Margo asked. “What went wrong?”

“I don’t really know,” I said. “I don’t really know.”

That night, I went to bed early. Before I turned out the light, I glanced at the closet door. It was closed tightly.

Having Slappy shut up in the closet made me feel safer.

I fell asleep quickly. I slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

Then I heard Sara’s angry screams down the hall.

“Mom! Dad! Mom! Hurry!” Sara was shouting. “Come see what Amy did now!”