07 Night of the Living Dummy by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine [Stine, R.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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.

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