Night of the Living Dummy (4 page)

8

“Tilt his head forward,” Lindy instructed. “That’s it. If you bounce him up and down a little, it’ll make it look like he’s laughing.”

Kris obediently bounced Mr. Wood on her lap, making him laugh.

“Don’t move his mouth so much,” Lindy told her.

“I think you’re both crazy,” Lindy’s friend Alice said.

“So what else is new?” Cody joked.

All four of them were sitting in a small patch of shade under the bent old maple tree in the Powells’ back yard. It was a hot Saturday afternoon, the sun high in a pale blue sky, streaks of yellow light filtering down through the shifting leaves above their heads.

Barky sniffed busily around the yard, his little tail wagging nonstop.

Kris sat on a folding chair, which leaned back against the gnarled tree trunk. She had Mr. Wood on her lap.

Lindy and Alice stood at the edge of the shade, their hands crossed over their chests, watching Kris’ performance with frowns of concentration on their faces.

Alice was a tall, skinny girl, with straight black hair down to her shoulders, a snub nose, and a pretty, heart-shaped mouth. She was wearing white shorts and a bright blue midriff top.

Cody was sprawled on his back in the grass, his hands behind his head, a long blade of grass between his teeth.

Kris was trying to show off her ventriloquist skills. But Lindy kept interrupting with “helpful” suggestions. When she wasn’t making suggestions, Lindy was nervously glancing at her watch. She didn’t want to be late for her job at Amy’s birthday party at two o’clock.

“I think you’re way weird,” Alice told Lindy.

“Hey, no way,” Lindy replied. “Slappy is a lot of fun. And I’m going to make a lot of money with him. And maybe I’ll be a comedy star or something when I’m older.” She glanced at her watch again.

“Well, everyone at school thinks that both of you are weird,” Alice said, swatting a fly off her bare arm.

“Who cares?” Lindy replied sharply. “They’re all weird, too.”

“And so are you,” Kris made Mr. Wood say.

“I could see your lips move,” Lindy told Kris.

Kris rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. You’ve been giving me a hard time all morning.”

“Just trying to help,” Lindy said. “You don’t have to be so defensive, do you?”

Kris uttered an angry growl.

“Was that your stomach?” she made Mr. Wood say.

Cody laughed.

“At least
one
person thinks you’re funny,” Lindy said dryly. “But if you want to do parties, you really should get some better jokes.”

Kris let the dummy slump to her lap. “I can’t find any good joke books,” she said dejectedly. “Where do you find your jokes?”

A superior sneer formed on Lindy’s face. She tossed her long hair behind her shoulder. “I make up my own jokes,” she replied snootily.

“You
are
a joke!” Cody said.

“Ha-ha. Remind me to laugh later,” Lindy said sarcastically.

“I can’t believe you don’t have
your
dummy out here,” Alice told Lindy. “I mean, don’t you want to rehearse for the party?”

“No need,” Lindy replied. “I’ve got my act down. I don’t want to over-rehearse.”

Kris groaned loudly.

“Some of the other parents are staying at the birthday party to watch Slappy and me,” Lindy continued, ignoring Kris’ sarcasm. “If the kids like me, their parents might hire me for
their
parties.”

“Maybe you and Kris should do an act together,” Alice suggested. “That could be really awesome.”

“Yeah. What an act! Then there’d be
four
dummies!” Cody joked.

Alice was the only one to laugh.

Lindy made a face at Cody. “That might actually be fun,” she said thoughtfully. And then she added, “When Kris is ready.”

Kris drew in her breath and prepared to make an angry reply.

But before she could say anything, Lindy grabbed Mr. Wood from her hands. “Let me give you a few pointers,” Lindy said, putting one foot on Kris’ folding chair and arranging Mr. Wood on her lap. “You have to hold him up straighter, like this.”

“Hey—give him back,” Kris demanded, reaching for her dummy.

As she reached up, Mr. Wood suddenly lowered his head until he was staring down at her.
“You’re a jerk!”
he rasped in Kris’ face, speaking in a low, throaty growl.

“Huh?” Kris pulled back in surprise.

“You’re a stupid jerk!”
Mr. Wood repeated nastily in the same harsh growl.

“Lindy—stop it!” Kris cried.

Cody and Alice both stared in openmouthed surprise.

“Stupid moron! Get lost! Get lost, stupid jerk!”
the dummy rasped in Kris’ face.

“Whoa!” Cody exclaimed.

“Make him stop!” Kris screamed at her sister.

“I can’t!” Lindy cried in a trembling voice. Her face became pale, her eyes wide with fear. “I can’t make him stop, Kris! He—he’s speaking for himself!”

9

The dummy glared at Kris, its grin ugly and evil.

“I—I can’t make him stop. I’m not doing it,” Lindy cried. Tugging with all her might, she pulled Mr. Wood out of Kris’ face.

Cody and Alice flashed each other bewildered glances.

Frightened, Kris raised herself from the folding chair and backed up against the tree trunk. “He—he’s talking on his own?” She stared hard at the grinning dummy.

“I—I think so. I’m… all mixed up!” Lindy declared, her cheeks bright pink.

Barky yipped and jumped on Lindy’s legs, trying to get her attention. But she kept her gaze on Kris’ frightened face.

“This is a joke—right?” Cody asked hopefully.

“What’s going on?” Alice demanded, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Ignoring them, Lindy handed Mr. Wood back to Kris. “Here. Take him. He’s yours. Maybe
you
can control him.”

“But, Lindy—” Kris started to protest.

Lindy glared at her watch. “Oh, no! The party! I’m late!” Shaking her head, she took off toward the house. “Later!” she called without looking back.

“But Lindy—” Kris called.

The kitchen door slammed behind Lindy.

Holding Mr. Wood by the shoulders, Kris lowered her eyes to his face. He grinned up at her, a devilish grin, his eyes staring intently into hers.

Kris swung easily, leaning back and raising her feet into the air. The chains squeaked with every swing. The old back yard swingset, half covered with rust, hadn’t been used much in recent years.

The early evening sun was lowering itself behind the house. The aroma of a roasting chicken floated out from the kitchen window. Kris could hear her mother busy in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Barky yapped beneath her. Kris dropped her feet to the ground and stopped the swing to avoid kicking him. “Dumb dog. Don’t you know you could get hurt?”

She looked up to see Lindy come running up the driveway, holding Slappy under her arm. From the smile on Lindy’s face, Kris knew at once that the birthday party had been a triumph. But she had to ask anyway. “How’d it go?”

“It was awesome!” Lindy exclaimed. “Slappy and I were
great
!”

Kris pulled herself off the swing and forced a smile to her face. “That’s nice,” she offered.

“The kids thought we were a riot!” Lindy continued. She pulled Slappy up. “Didn’t they, Slappy?”

“They liked me. Hated you!” Slappy declared in Lindy’s high-pitched voice.

Kris forced a laugh. “I’m glad it went okay,” she said, trying hard to be a good sport.

“I did a sing-along with Slappy, and it went over really well. Then Slappy and I did our rap routine. What a hit!” Lindy gushed.

She’s spreading it on a little thick, Kris thought bitterly. Kris couldn’t help feeling jealous.

“The kids all lined up to talk to Slappy,” Lindy continued. “Didn’t they, Slappy?”

“Everyone loved me,” she made the dummy say. “Where’s my share of the loot?”

“So you got paid twenty dollars?” Kris asked, kicking at a clump of weeds.

“Twenty-five,” Lindy replied. “Amy’s mom said I was so good, she’d pay me extra. Oh. And guess what else? You know Mrs. Evans? The woman who always wears the leopardskin pants? You know—Anna’s mom? She asked me to do Anna’s party next Sunday. She’s going to pay me
thirty
dollars! I’m going to be rich!”

“Wow. Thirty dollars,” Kris muttered, shaking her head.

“I get twenty. You get ten,” Lindy made Slappy say.

“I have to go tell Mom the good news!” Lindy said. “What have you been doing all afternoon?”

“Well, after you left, I was pretty upset,” Kris replied, following Lindy to the house. “You know. About Mr. Wood. I—I put him upstairs. Alice and Cody went home. Then Mom and I went to the mall.”

His tail wagging furiously, Barky ran right over their feet, nearly tripping both of them. “Barky, look out!” Lindy yelled.

“Oh. I nearly forgot,” Kris said, stopping on the back stoop. “Something good happened.”

Lindy stopped, too. “Something good?”

“Yeah. I ran into Mrs. Berman at the mall.” Mrs. Berman was their music teacher and organizer of the spring concert.

“Thrills,” Lindy replied sarcastically.

“And Mrs. Berman asked if Mr. Wood and I wanted to be master of ceremonies for the spring concert.” Kris smiled at her sister.

Lindy swallowed hard. “She asked
you
to host the concert?”

“Yeah. I get to perform with Mr. Wood in front of everyone!” Kris gushed happily. She saw a flash of jealousy on Lindy’s face, which made her even happier.

Lindy pulled open the screen door. “Well, good luck,” she said dryly. “With that weird dummy of yours, you’ll
need
it.”

Dinner was spent talking about Lindy’s performance at Amy Marshall’s birthday party. Lindy and Mrs. Powell chatted excitedly. Kris ate in silence.

“At first I thought the whole thing was strange, I have to admit,” Mrs. Powell said, scooping ice cream into bowls for dessert. “I just couldn’t believe you’d be interested in ventriloquism, Lindy. But I guess you have a flair for it. I guess you have some talent.”

Lindy beamed. Mrs. Powell normally wasn’t big on compliments.

“I found a book in the school library about ventriloquism,” Lindy said. “It had some pretty good tips in it. It even had a comedy routine to perform.” She glanced at Kris. “But I like making up my own jokes better.”

“You should watch your sister’s act,” Mrs. Powell told Kris, handing her a bowl of ice cream. “I mean, you could probably pick up some pointers for the concert at school.”

“Maybe,” Kris replied, trying to hide how annoyed she was.

After dinner, Mr. Powell called from Portland, and they all talked with him. Lindy told him about her success with Slappy at the birthday party. Kris told him about being asked to host the concert with Mr. Wood. Her father promised he wouldn’t schedule any road trips so that he could attend the concert.

After watching a video their mother had rented at the mall, the two sisters went up to their room. It was a little after eleven.

Kris clicked on the light. Lindy followed her in.

They both glanced across the room to the chair where they kept the two dummies—and gasped.

“Oh, no!” Lindy cried, raising one hand to her wide open mouth.

Earlier that night, the dummies had been placed side by side in a sitting position.

But now Slappy was upside down, falling out of the chair, his head on the floor. His brown shoes had been pulled off his feet and tossed against the wall. His suit jacket had been pulled halfway down his arms, trapping his hands behind his back.

“L-look!” Kris stammered, although her sister was already staring in horror at the scene. “Mr. Wood—he’s…” Kris’ voice caught in her throat.

Mr. Wood was sprawled on top of Slappy. His hands were wrapped around Slappy’s throat, as if he were strangling him.

10

“I—I don’t believe this!” Kris managed to whisper. She turned and caught the frightened expression on Lindy’s face.

“What’s going
on
?” Lindy cried.

Both sisters hurried across the room. Kris grabbed Mr. Wood by the back of the neck and pulled him off the other dummy. She felt as if she were separating two fighting boys.

She held Mr. Wood up in front of her, examining him carefully, staring at his face as if half-expecting him to talk to her.

Then she lowered the dummy and tossed it facedown onto her bed. Her face was pale and taut with fear.

Lindy stooped and picked up Slappy’s brown shoes from the floor. She held them up and studied them, as if they would offer a clue as to what had happened.

“Kris—did you do this?” Lindy asked softly.

“Huh? Me?” Kris reacted with surprise.

“I mean, I
know
you’re jealous of Slappy and me—” Lindy started.

“Whoa. Wait a minute,” Kris replied angrily in a shrill, trembling voice. “I didn’t do this, Lindy. Don’t accuse me.”

Lindy glared at her sister, studying her face. Then her expression softened and she sighed. “I don’t get. I just don’t get it. Look at Slappy. He’s nearly been torn apart.”

She set the shoes down on the chair and picked the dummy up gently as if picking up a baby. Holding him in one hand, she struggled to pull his suit jacket up with the other.

Kris heard her sister mutter something. It sounded like “Your dummy is evil.”

“What did you say?” Kris demanded.

“Nothing,” Lindy replied, still struggling with the jacket. “I’m… uh… I’m kind of scared about this,” Lindy confessed, blushing, avoiding Kris’ eyes.

“Me, too,” Kris admitted. “Something weird is going on. I think we should tell Mom.”

Lindy buttoned the jacket. Then she sat down on the bed with Slappy on her lap and started to replace the dummy’s shoes. “Yeah. I guess we should,” she replied. “It—it’s just so creepy.”

Their mother was in bed, reading a Stephen King novel. Her bedroom was dark except for a tiny reading lamp on her headboard that threw down a narrow triangle of yellow light.

Mrs. Powell uttered a short cry as her two daughters appeared out of the shadows. “Oh. You startled me. This is such a scary book, and I think I was just about to fall asleep.”

“Can we talk to you?” Kris asked eagerly in a low whisper.

“Something weird is going on,” Lindy added.

Mrs. Powell yawned and closed her book. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Mr. Wood,” Kris said. “He’s been doing a lot of strange things.”

“Huh?” Mrs. Powell’s eyes opened wide. She looked pale and tired under the harsh light from the reading lamp.

“He was strangling Slappy,” Lindy reported. “And this afternoon, he said some really gross things. And—”

“Stop!” Mrs. Powell ordered, raising one hand. “Just stop.”

“But, Mom—” Kris started.

“Give me a break, girls,” their mother said wearily. “I’m tired of your silly competitions.”

“You don’t understand,” Lindy interrupted.

“Yes, I
do
understand,” Mrs. Powell said sharply. “You two are even competing with those ventriloquist dummies.”

“Mom, please!”

“I want it to stop right now,” Mrs. Powell insisted, tossing the book onto her bed table. “I mean it. I don’t want to hear another word from either of you about those dummies. If you two have problems, settle it between yourselves.”

“Mom, listen—”

“And if you can’t settle it, I’ll take the dummies away. Both of them. I’m serious.” Mrs. Powell reached above her head and clicked off the reading light, throwing the room into darkness. “Good night,” she said.

The girls had no choice but to leave the room. They slunk down the hall in silence.

Kris hesitated at the doorway to their bedroom. She expected to find Mr. Wood strangling Slappy again. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the two dummies on the bed where they had been left.

“Mom wasn’t too helpful,” Lindy said dryly, rolling her eyes. She picked up Slappy and started to arrange him in the chair in front of the window.

“I think she was asleep and we woke her up,” Kris replied.

She picked up Mr. Wood and started toward the chair with him—then stopped. “You know what? I think I’m going to put him in the closet tonight,” she said thoughtfully.

“Good idea,” Lindy said, climbing into bed.

Kris glanced down at the dummy, half-expecting him to react. To complain. To start calling her names.

But Mr. Wood grinned up at her, his painted eyes dull and lifeless.

Kris felt a chill of fear.

I’m becoming afraid of a stupid ventriloquist’s dummy, she thought.

I’m shutting him up in the closet tonight because I’m afraid.

She carried Mr. Wood to the closet. Then, with a groan, she raised him high above her head and slid him onto the top shelf. Carefully closing the closet door, listening for the click, she made her way to her bed.

She slept fitfully, tossing on top of the covers, her sleep filled with disturbing dreams. She awoke to find her nightshirt completely twisted, cutting off the circulation to her right arm. She struggled to straighten it, then fell back to sleep.

She awoke early, drenched in sweat. The sky was still dawn-gray outside the window.

The room felt hot and stuffy. She sat up slowly, feeling weary, as if she hadn’t slept at all.

Blinking away the sleep, her eyes focused on the chair in front of the window.

There sat Slappy, exactly where Lindy had placed him.

And beside him sat Mr. Wood, his arm around Slappy’s shoulder, grinning triumphantly at Kris as if he had just pulled off a wonderful joke.