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She had crossed the room to stand beside her husband. Wood tightly around the waist, Kris rose to her feet. Then, with an embarrassed cry, she turned and fled up the stairs, tears streaming down her face. Wood was talking by himself! Lindy had followed Kris upstairs. Down in the living room, her parents were still apologizing to the Millers. Now, Kris sat on the edge of her bed, wiping tears off her cheeks.
Lindy stood with her arms crossed in front of the dressing table. Wood, who lay crumpled in the center of the floor where Kris had tossed him. Wood said those things! You really fooled me, Kris. Guess you showed me you can play funny tricks, too. More tears formed in the corners of her eyes. After your performance tonight, Mom and Dad might not let you do the concert tomorrow night. Wood, hurried from the room. It was hot and noisy backstage in the auditorium. The voices of the audience on the other side of the curtain seemed to echo off all four walls and the ceiling.
The louder the noise became as the auditorium filled, the more nervous Kris felt. How am I ever going to do my act in front of all those people?
Her parents were off to the side, in the third row. Her parents had grounded her for two weeks as punishment for insulting the Millers. Kris stared at the kids and adults filing into the large auditorium, recognizing a lot of faces. She realized her hands were ice cold. Her throat was dry again. Think of it as a bunch of kids and parents, most of whom you know. Somehow that made it worse.
She let go of the curtain, hurried to get one last drink from the fountain, then retrieved Mr. Wood from the table she had left him on. It suddenly grew quiet on the other side of the curtain.
The concert was about to begin. She pulled up Mr. Wood and straightened his shirt. To her shock, the dummy blinked. She had a stab of fear that went beyond stage fright. Wood, watching for him to blink again. But then she quickly realized that it was Mrs. Berman, the music teacher. She was a large, heavyset woman with several chins, a red lipsticked mouth, and flowing black hair. She was wearing a long, loose-fitting dress of red-and-blue flower patterns.
Then she stepped onstage, blinking against the harsh white light of the spotlight, to introduce Kris and Mr. Am I really doing this? Kris asked herself. Can I do this? Then, suddenly, the audience was applauding, and Kris found herself walking across the stage to the microphone, carrying Mr.
Wood in both hands. Berman, her flowery dress flowing around her, was heading offstage. She smiled at Kris and gave her an encouraging wink as they passed each other.
Squinting against the bright spotlight, Kris walked to the middle of the stage. Her mouth felt as dry as cotton. She wondered if she could make a sound. A folding chair had been set up for her. She sat down, arranging Mr.
Wood on her lap, then realized that the microphone was much too high. This drew titters of soft laughter from the audience.
Wood under one arm, struggled to lower the microphone. Berman called from the side of the stage. She hurried over to help Kris. But before the music teacher got halfway across the stage, Mr. Wood leaned into the microphone. Wood growled at the startled woman. Her mouth dropped open in horror. But it was mixed with gasps of horror.
Berman cried, the microphone picking up her angry protest. Wood declared nastily. Berman said, her face bright red. Berman demanded. His jaw dropped. His mouth opened wide. And a thick green liquid came spewing out. It looked like pea soup.
It spurted up out of Mr. Voices screamed and cried out their surprise as the thick, green liquid showered over the people in the front rows. A putrid stench—the smell of sour milk, of rotten eggs, of burning rubber, of decayed meat—rose up from the liquid. It puddled over the stage and showered over the front seats. But she could hear the choking and the gagging, the frantic cries for help. Clear the auditorium! Berman was shouting. Kris heard the rumble and scrape of people shoving their way up the aisles and out the doors.
But the force of the putrid green liquid frothing and spewing out was too strong. It pushed her hand away. Suddenly she realized she was being shoved from behind. Off the stage. Away from the shouting people fleeing the auditorium.
Out of the glaring spotlight. She was backstage before she realized that it was Mrs. Berman who was pushing her. Or why! Berman shouted angrily, frantically wiping splotches of the disgusting green liquid off the front of her dress with both hands. Powell said sternly, glaring with narrowed eyes at Kris. He stood a few inches behind her, arms crossed in front of him, making sure she followed his instructions.
She had carefully folded Mr. Wood in half and shoved him to the back of her closet shelf. Now she closed the closet, making sure it was completely shut, as he ordered. Lindy watched silently from her bed, her expression troubled. Powell asked. Do not take him out until then. She listened to his footsteps, hard and hurried, down the stairs. Then Kris slowly turned to Lindy.
She shifted from side to side, uncomfortable, wide awake. She pulled the pillow over her face, held it there for a while, welcoming the soft darkness, then tossed it to the floor. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hideous scene in the auditorium once again. She heard the astonished cries of the audience, the kids and their parents.
And she heard the cries of shock turn to groans of disgust as the putrid gunk poured out over everyone. So totally sickening. And everyone blamed her. I can never go back there again. I can never go to school. I can never show my face anywhere.
My whole life. Ruined by that stupid dummy. In the next bed, Lindy snored softly, in a slow, steady rhythm. Kris turned her eyes to the bedroom window.
The curtains hung down over the window, filtering the pale moonlight from outside. Slappy sat in his usual place in the chair in front of the window, bent in two, his head between his knees.
Stupid dummies, Kris thought bitterly. So stupid. And now my life is ruined. She glanced at the clock. Outside the window, she heard a low, rumbling sound. A soft whistle of brakes. Probably a large truck going by. Kris yawned. She closed her eyes and saw the gross green gunk spewing out of Mr. Will I see that every time I close my eyes? What on earth was it? How could everyone blame me for something so… so… The rumbling of the truck faded into the distance. But then Kris heard another sound.
A rustling sound. A soft footstep. Someone was moving. She sucked in her breath and held it, listening hard. Silence now. Silence so heavy, she could hear the loud thudding of her heart. Then another soft footstep. A shadow moved. The closet door swung open. Or was it just shadows shifting? Moving from the open closet.
Someone was creeping toward the bedroom door. Creeping so softly, so silently. Her heart pounding, Kris pulled herself up, trying not to make a sound. She took another breath, then sat up.
The shadow moved slowly to the door. Kris lowered her feet to the floor, staring hard into the darkness, her eyes staying with the silent, moving figure.
The shadow moved again. She heard a scraping sound, the sound of a sleeve brushing the doorframe. Kris pushed herself to her feet.
Her legs felt shaky as she crept to the door, following the moving shadow. Out into the hallway. Even darker out here because there were no windows. Toward the stairway. The shadow moved more quickly now. Kris followed, her bare feet moving lightly over the thin carpet. She grabbed the shoulder and turned the figure around. And stared into the grinning face of Mr. Wood blinked, then hissed at her, an ugly sound, a menacing sound. In the darkness of the stairwell, his painted grin became a threatening leer.
He blinked again. He giggled. His mouth opened, making his grin grow wider. He giggled again. His voice was a deep growl, like the angry snarl of a large dog. The dummy giggled its ugly giggle again. Kris held on, tightening her grip. Still gripping the shoulder of the shirt, Kris stared through the darkness at the grinning face.
The air seemed to grow heavy and hot. It took her a while to recognize the strained gasps of her own breathing. In something! The darkness seemed to descend over her, choking her, weighing her down.
Kris reached out her other hand and grabbed him around the waist. You will listen to me. This is my house now. They both fell onto the stairs, rolling down a few steps. He rolled on top of her, his wild eyes glaring into hers.
She pushed him off, tried to pin his arms behind his back. He was surprisingly strong. He pulled back one arm, then shoved a fist hard into the pit of her stomach. The dummy took advantage of her momentary weakness, and pulled free. Grasping the banister with one hand, he tried to pull himself past her and down the stairs. But Kris shot out a foot and tripped him. Still struggling to breathe, she pounced onto his back. Then she pulled him away from the banister and pushed him down hard onto a step.
She closed her eyes against the sudden harsh intrusion. The dummy struggled to pull out from under her, but she pushed down on his back with all her weight. Go get Mom and Dad! Have you lost your mind? Before he escapes! She stared down at her sister, her long hair falling in tangles about her face, her features twisted in horror.
It was just a nightmare. Grabbing the banister with one hand, she raised herself a little. The instant she lightened up on him, the dummy grabbed the edge of the stair with both hands and pulled himself out from under her. Half-falling, half-crawling, he scrambled down the rest of the stairs.
Kris dived off the step, thrusting her arms in front of her. She tackled Mr. Wood from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. His head hit the carpet hard as they both crumpled to the floor. He uttered a low, throaty cry of pain. His eyes closed. Dazed, her chest heaving, her entire body trembling, Kris slowly climbed to her feet.
He let out an angry growl and started to thrash his arms and legs wildly. Stine Publisher : Scholastic Inc. Get out your bathing suit! You and your family are off on a summer vacation to a place called WoodsWorld. You can't wait to mess around down at the lake.
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