40 - Night of the Living Dummy III (9 page)

And then I had an idea.

I jumped up from the couch. I tugged my brother by the arm. “Come on.”

He pulled back. “Where?”

“To the attic. I think I know how to put Slappy to sleep—for good.”

I stopped at the attic door and held Dan back. “Be very quiet,” I instructed
him. “Maybe Slappy is asleep. If he’s asleep, my plan will go a whole lot
better.”

Thunder roared as I opened the door. I led the way up the stairs, moving
slowly, carefully, one step at a time. I could hear the rain pounding down on
the roof. And I could see the flicker of lightning on the low ceiling.

I stopped as I reached the top of the stairs and turned toward the dummy
collection. A flash of lightning through the window cast the shadows of their
heads on the wall. As the lightning flickered, the shadows all seemed to be
moving.

Dan stepped up behind me. “Here we are. Now what?” he whispered.

I raised a finger to my lips and began to tiptoe across the floor. Thunder boomed. It sounded so much louder up here under the
roof!

When Dan and I dragged Slappy up here this morning, we had tossed him down on
the floor. We were too freaked and frightened to spend the time propping him up
on his chair. We just wanted to dump him and get away from the attic.

I saw Slappy in the flickering white lightning. Lying on his back in the
center of the floor. The other dummies sat around him, grinning their silent
grins.

I took a step closer. And then another. Moving as silently as I could.

I peered down at the evil dummy. His arms were at his sides. His legs were
twisted around each other.

And his eyes were closed.

Yes!

His eyes were closed. He was asleep.

I took another few steps toward Slappy. But I felt Dan’s hand on my arm,
tugging me back. “Trina—what are you going to do?” he whispered.

My eyes darted to Slappy. Still asleep. Thunder roared all around. It sounded
as if we were standing in the middle of it.

“Remember those weird words I read?” I whispered to my brother, keeping my
eyes on the evil dummy. “Remember those weird words on that slip of paper?”

Dan thought for a moment. Then he nodded.

“Well, maybe it was those words that brought him to life,” I whispered.
“Maybe it’s some kind of secret chant.”

Dan shrugged. “Maybe.” He didn’t sound too hopeful.

“I saw you tuck that slip of paper back into Slappy’s jacket pocket,” I told
my brother. “I’m going to take it out and read the words again. Maybe the same
words that bring him to life will also put him back to sleep.”

Of
course
it was a crazy idea.

But a dummy coming to life was crazy, too. And a dummy trying to turn you
into his slave was crazy.

It was
all
crazy. So maybe my idea was just crazy enough to work.

“Good luck,” my brother whispered, his eyes on the sleeping dummy on the
floor.

I made my way over to Slappy.

I knelt down on my knees beside him.

I took a deep breath and held it. Then slowly, slowly, I began to reach my
hand down to his jacket pocket.

I knew the slip of paper was inside that pocket. Could I pull it out without
waking up Slappy?

I lowered my hand. Lowered it.

My fingers touched the top of the jacket pocket.

Still holding my breath, I began to slip two fingers inside.

“Gotcha!”
Slappy shrieked as his hands shot up. He grabbed both of my
wrists and began to squeeze.

I was so stunned, I nearly fell on top of him.

As I struggled to keep my balance, his wooden hands dug into my wrists. They
tightened around me, cutting into my skin.

“Let go of me!” I screamed. I struggled to pull my arms away. But he was too
strong. Too strong.

The hard fingers dug into my wrists. They squeezed harder, harder—until
they cut off all circulation.

“Let go of me! Let go!” My cry came out a shrill wail.

“I give the orders, ssssslave!” Slappy hissed. “You will obey me. Obey
me
forever!
Or you will pay!”

“Let go! Let me go!” I shrieked. I tugged. I struggled to my feet. I jerked
my arms up and down.

But Slappy didn’t loosen his hold.

His whole body bounced in the air. Hit the floor. Bounced back up as I
pulled.

But his hands gripped even harder.

I couldn’t free myself. And the pain—the intense pain—shot down my arms.
Down my sides. Down my whole body.

“Pick me up, sssslave!” the dummy hissed. “Pick me up and put me on my
chair.”

“Let go!” I cried. “You’re breaking my wrists! Let go!”

The dummy uttered a cold laugh in reply.

The pain shot through my body. My legs wobbled. I dropped back to my knees.

I turned in time to see Dan dive toward us.

I thought he was going to grab the dummy’s hand and try to set me free.

Instead, Dan grabbed for the jacket pocket.

Slappy let go of my wrists. But not in time.

Dan pulled the slip of paper from the pocket.

Slappy swiped at Dan’s hand, trying to grab the paper away.

But Dan swung around. He unfolded the paper and raised it to his face. And
then he shouted out the mysterious words that were written there:

“Karru marri odonna loma molonu karrano.”

Would it work?

Would it put Slappy back to sleep?

I rubbed my aching wrists and stared down at the grinning dummy.

He gazed back at me. And then winked.

His laughter roared over the thunder, over the hard, steady drumming of rain
on the roof.

“You cannot defeat me that way, slave!” Slappy cried gleefully.

I took a step back. A chill ran down my back, making my whole body shudder.

My plan hadn’t worked.

My only plan. My last, desperate plan. A total failure.

I caught the disappointment on Dan’s face. The slip of paper fell from his
fingers and floated to the floor.

“You will pay for this!” Slappy threatened. “You will pay for your foolish
attempt to defeat me.”

He pushed his hands against the floor and started to climb to his feet.

I backed up.

And saw the other dummies move.

All of them. They were sliding off their chairs. Lowering themselves from the
couch.

They stretched their skinny arms. Flexed their big, wooden hands.

Their heads bobbed, their knees bent as they started to shuffle toward us.

They had all come to life! Twelve dummies, brought to life by those strange
words Dan had cried out.

Twelve dummies staggering toward Dan and me.

We were trapped between them. Trapped in the circle as they shuffled,
dragging their heavy shoes. Their eyes wide. Locked on Dan and me.

As they staggered and shuffled. Moving stiffly, grinning, grinning so coldly.

Closing in on Dan and me.

Wilbur limped toward us, his big, chipped hands stretched out, ready to grab
us. Lucy’s big blue eyes gleamed coldly as she staggered toward us. Arnie let
out a high-pitched giggle as he pulled himself closer.

Closer.

Dan and I spun around. But we had nowhere to turn. Nowhere to escape.

The dummies’ big shoes scraped heavily over the wooden floorboards. Their
knees bent with each step. They looked as if they would tumble to the floor.

But they kept coming. Lurching forward. Bodies bending. Heads bobbing.

Alive. Wooden creatures. Alive!

Dan raised his hands over his face as if to shield himself.

I took a step back. But the dummies behind me were closing in, too.

I took a long, deep breath and held it.

Then I waited.

Waited for their wooden hands to grab us.

I uttered a loud gasp as Wilbur and Arnie staggered right past me.

The dummies all brushed past Dan and me.

As if we weren’t there.

I stared in shock as they circled Slappy. I saw Rocky grab Slappy by the
collar. I saw Lucy grab Slappy’s shoes.

Then the circle of dummies moved in closer. Tighter.

I couldn’t see what they were doing to Slappy. But I saw their skinny arms
jerking and tugging. I saw them all struggling together.

Wrestling with him.

Were they pulling him apart?

I couldn’t see. But I heard Slappy’s scream of terror.

Dan and I clung to each other, watching the strange sight. It looked like a
football huddle. A huddle of dummies.

The dummies grunted and groaned, muttering in low tones as they worked over
Slappy.

We couldn’t see Slappy in the middle.

We heard only one scream.

We didn’t hear him scream again.

And then I heard the attic door open.

Footsteps on the stairs!

Someone was coming up.

I poked Dan and turned him to the stairs.

We both cried out as Zane climbed up to the attic and squinted across the
long room at us.

Did he see the struggling dummies? Did he see that they were all alive?

I turned back—in time to see the dummies all collapse in a heap.

“Whoa!” I cried, my heart pounding. I blinked several times. I didn’t believe
what I saw.

The twelve dummies lay lifeless on the floor, arms and legs in a wild tangle.
Mouths open. Eyes gazing up blankly at the low ceiling.

Slappy lay sprawled in the middle. His head tilted to one side. I saw the
blank stare in his eyes. Saw the open-mouthed, wooden grin.

He was completely lifeless now. As lifeless as all the others.

Had the other dummies somehow destroyed his evil?

Would Slappy remain a lifeless block of wood forever?

I didn’t have time to think about it. Zane came hurrying across the attic, an
angry scowl on his face. His eyes were on the pile of dummies.

“Caught you!” Zane cried to Dan and me. “Caught you both! Planning your next
trick! I
knew
you two were the ones! I’m telling Uncle Danny what you’re
doing!”

Of course no one believed Dan and me.

Of course everyone believed Zane.

We were in the worst trouble of our lives. Dan and I were grounded forever.
We probably won’t be allowed to leave the house until we are in our forties!

The next day, Zane and Uncle Cal were at the front door, saying good-bye.
It’s a terrible thing to say—but Dan and I were
not
sad to see Zane go.

“I hope I never have to come back here,” he whispered to me in the hall. Then
he put on a big, phony smile for Mom and Dad.

“Zane, what kind of camera would you like?” Dad asked, putting a hand on
Zane’s shoulder. “You have a birthday coming up. I’d like to send you a new
camera for your birthday.”

Zane shrugged his big shoulders. “Thanks,” he told my Dad. “But I’m really
not into photography anymore.”

Mom and Dad raised their eyebrows in surprise.

“Well, what
would
you like for your birthday, Zane?” Mom asked. “Is
there something else you’re interested in?”

Zane shyly lowered his eyes to the floor. “Well… I’d kind of like to try
being a ventriloquist—like you, Uncle Danny.”

Dad beamed happily.

That creep Zane had said just the right thing.

“Maybe you have a spare dummy you can lend Zane,” Uncle Cal suggested.

Dad rubbed his chin. “Well… maybe I do.” He turned to me. “Trina, run up
to the attic. And pick out a good dummy for Zane to take home. Not one of the
old ones. But a nice one that Zane can enjoy.”

“No problem, Dad,” I replied eagerly. I hurried up to the attic. I hoped they
didn’t see the enormous grin on my face.

Can you guess which dummy I picked out for Zane?

I know it’s horribly mean. But I really had no choice—did I?

“Here’s a good one, Zane,” I said a few seconds later. I placed the grinning
dummy in Zane’s arms. “His name is Slappy. I think you two will be very happy
together.”

I hope Zane has fun learning to be a ventriloquist.

But I have the feeling he may have a few problems. Because as Zane carried
Slappy into the car, I saw the dummy wink at me.

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