Coraline by Neil & McKean Gaiman & Neil & McKean Gaiman

Author:Neil & McKean Gaiman & Neil & McKean Gaiman [Gaiman, Neil & McKean, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Reading Group Guide, Ghost stories, Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, Juvenile Horror, Fantasy fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Science Fiction; Fantasy; Magic, Children's Books, Children: Grades 4-6, General, Fantasy, Horror & Ghost Stories, Young adult fiction, Supernatural, Fantasy & Magic, Ages 9-12 Fiction, UQP young adult fiction, Horror stories, Fiction, Horror tales
ISBN: 9780380977789
Publisher: HarperCollins

IX.

OUTSIDE, THE WORLD HAD become a formless, swirling mist with no shapes or shadows behind it, while the house itself seemed to have twisted and stretched. It seemed to Coraline that it was crouching, and staring down at her, as if it were not really a house but only the idea of a house—and the person who had had the idea, she was certain, was not a good person. There was sticky web stuff clinging to her arm, and she wiped it off as best she could. The gray windows of the house slanted at strange angles.

The other mother was waiting for her, standing on the grass with her arms folded. Her black button eyes were expressionless, but her lips were pressed tightly together in a cold fury.

When she saw Coraline she reached out one long white hand, and she crooked a finger. Coraline walked toward her. The other mother said nothing.

“I got two,” said Coraline. “One soul still to go.”

The expression on the other mother’s face did not change. She might not have heard what Coraline said.

“Well, I just thought you’d want to know,” said Coraline.

“Thank you, Coraline,” said the other mother coldly, and her voice did not just come from her mouth. It came from the mist, and the fog, and the house, and the sky. She said, “You know that I love you.”

And, despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true: the other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother’s button eyes, Coraline knew that she was a possession, nothing more. A tolerated pet, whose behavior was no longer amusing.

“I don’t want your love,” said Coraline. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Not even a helping hand?” asked the other mother. “You have been doing so well, after all. I thought you might want a little hint, to help you with the rest of your treasure hunt.”

“I’m doing fine on my own,” said Coraline.

“Yes,” said the other mother. “But if you wanted to get into the flat in the front—the empty one—to look around, you would find the door locked, and then where would you be?”

“Oh,” Coraline pondered this, for a moment. Then she said, “Is there a key?”

The other mother stood there in the paper-gray fog of the flattening world. Her black hair drifted about her head, as if it had a mind and a purpose all of its own. She coughed suddenly in the back of her throat, and then she opened her mouth.

The other mother reached up her hand and removed a small, brass front-door key from her tongue.

“Here,” she said. “You’ll need this to get in.”

She tossed the key, casually, toward Coraline, who caught it, one-handed, before she could think about whether she wanted it or not. The key was still slightly damp.

A chill wind blew about them, and Coraline shivered and looked away. When she looked back she was alone.

Uncertainly, she walked around to the front of the house and stood in front of the door to the empty flat.

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