Night of the Living Dummy 3

by R. L. Stine

  I turned and started to the stairs — when I heard soft laughter.

  “Huh?” I uttered a startled cry and spun around.

  Another quiet laugh. A snicker.

  And then a hoarse voice: “Is your hair red? Or are you starting to rust?”

  “Excuse me?” I cried, raising a hand to my mouth. My eyes swept quickly from dummy to dummy.

  Who said that?

  “Hey, Trina — you’re pretty. Pretty ugly!” That was followed by another soft snicker. Evil laughter.

  “I like your perfume. What is it — flea and tick spray?”

  My eyes stopped on the new dummy, the one Dad called Smiley. He sat straight up in the center of the couch. The voice seemed to be coming from him.

  “Pinch me. I’m having a nightmare. Or is that really your face?”

  I froze. A cold shiver ran down my back.

  The hoarse voice did come from the new dummy!

  He stared blankly at me. His mouth hung open in a stiff, unpleasant grin.

  But the voice came from Smiley. The rude insults came from Smiley.

  But that’s impossible! I told myself.

  Impossible!

  Ventriloquist’s dummies can’t talk without a ventriloquist.

  “Th-this is crazy!” I stammered out loud.

  And then the dummy started to move.

  I let out a scream.

  Dan popped up from behind the couch.

  The dummy toppled onto its side.

  “You-you-you!” I sputtered, pointing furiously at my brother.

  My heart was pounding. I felt cold all over. “That’s not funny! You — you scared me to death!” I shrieked.

  To my surprise, Dan didn’t laugh. His eyes were narrowed. His mouth hung open. “Who was making those jokes?” he demanded. His eyes darted from dummy to dummy.

  “Give me a break!” I shot back. “Are you going to tell me it wasn’t you?”

  He scratched his short brown hair. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “Dan, you’re the biggest liar!” I cried. “How long have you been up here? What are you doing here? You were spying on me — right?”

  He shook his head and stepped out from behind the couch. “What are you doing up here, Trina?” he asked. “Did you come up to get Rocky? To take Rocky downstairs again and try to scare Zane?”

  I let out an angry growl and shoved Dan with all my might.

  He stumbled backward and fell onto the couch. He cried out as he landed on top of the new dummy. He and the dummy appeared to wrestle for a moment as Dan struggled to climb to his feet.

  I stepped up close to the couch and blocked his way. As he tried to get up, I pushed him back down.

  “You know I’m not the one who’s been moving Rocky around,” I shouted. “We all know you’ve been doing it, Dan. And you’re going to get the two of us in real trouble with Dad.”

  “You’re wrong!” Dan declared angrily. His little mouse face turned bright red. “Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!”

  He burst up from the couch. The dummy bounced on the cushion. Its head turned. It appeared to grin up at me.

  I turned to my brother. “If you weren’t planning more trouble, what were you doing up here?”

  “Waiting,” he replied.

  “Excuse me? Waiting for whom?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Just waiting,” he insisted. “Don’t you get it, Trina?”

  I kicked at a ball of dust on the floor. It stuck to the toe of my sneaker. “Get it? Get what?”

  “Don’t you see what’s going on?” Dan demanded. “Haven’t you caught on yet?”

  I bent down and pulled the dust ball off my sneaker. Now it stuck to my fingers. “What is in your little mouse brain?” I asked. I rolled my eyes. “This should be good.”

  My brother stepped up beside me. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Zane is doing it all,” he said.

  I laughed. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him.

  “No. Really.” He grabbed my arm. “I know I’m right, Trina. Zane is doing everything. Zane is moving the dummy, bringing it downstairs, then pretending to be scared. Zane made it slap him. Zane carried it to the kitchen table both of those times.”

  I shoved Dan’s hand off my arm. Then I spread my hand over his forehead and pretended to check his temperature. “You are totally losing it,” I told him. “Go lie down. I’ll tell Mom you’re running a high fever.”

  “Listen to me!” Dan screeched. “I’m serious! I’m right. I know I’m right!”

  “Why?” I demanded. “Why would Zane do that, Dan? Why would he scare himself?”

  “To pay us back for last time,” Dan replied. “Don’t you get it? Zane is trying to get us in trouble.”

  I dropped down onto the couch beside Smiley. I thought hard about what my brother was saying. “You mean Zane wants Dad to think that you and I are using the dummies to scare Zane.”

  “Yes!” Dan cried. “But Zane is doing it all. He’s scaring himself. And making it look as if we’re doing it — to get us in big trouble.”

  I fiddled with the dummy’s hand as I thought about it some more. “Zane scare himself? I don’t think so,” I replied finally. “What gave you this idea? What proof do you have?”

  Dan dropped down on the couch arm. “First of all,” he started, “you didn’t carry Rocky downstairs all those times, did you?”

  I shook my head. “No way.”

  “Well, neither did I,” Dan declared. “So who does that leave? Rocky isn’t walking around by himself — right?”

  “Of course not. But —”

  “It was the camera that gave it away,” Dan said. “The photos Zane developed of Rocky were the biggest clue.”

  I let the dummy hand fall to the couch. “What do you mean?” I asked. I really wasn’t following my brother’s thinking at all.

  “That camera is never out of Zane’s sight,” Dan replied. “Most of the time, he keeps it around his neck. So who else could have snapped all those photos of Rocky?”

  I swallowed hard. “You mean that Zane —”

  Dan nodded. “Zane was the only one who could have taken those pictures of Rocky. He sneaked up to the attic. He snapped them. Then he acted scared and angry when he developed them.”

  “But it was all an act?” I asked.

  “For sure,” Dan replied. “It’s all been an act. To scare us. And to get us in trouble with Dad. Zane is trying to pay us back for how we scared him last time.”

  I still had my doubts. “It isn’t like Zane,” I argued. “He’s so wimpy, so quiet and shy. He’s not the kind of boy who plays tricks on people.”

  “He’s had months to plan it!” Dan exclaimed. “Months to plan his revenge. We can prove it, Trina. We can hide up here and wait for him. That’s why I was up here. Hiding behind the couch.”

  “To catch him in the act?”

  Dan nodded. He whispered even though we were alone. “After everyone goes to bed tonight, let’s sneak up here and wait. Wait and see if Zane comes.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “It’s worth a try … I guess.”

  Was Dan right?

  Would we catch Zane in the act?

  I couldn’t wait for everyone to go to sleep. I was dying to find out.

  Gusts of wind rattled the attic windowpanes. Heavy clouds covered the moon.

  We crept up the attic stairs into the darkness. Up a step. Then stop. Up a step. Then stop. Trying to be silent.

  The old house moaned and groaned beneath us.

  The attic stretched blacker than the stairway.

  I reached for the light switch. But Dan slapped my hand away. “Are you crazy?” he whispered. “It has to be dark. Totally dark. Or else Zane will know that someone is up here.”

  “I know that,” I whispered sleepily. “I just wanted to take one look at the dummies. You know. Make sure they’re all here.”

  “They’re all here,” Dan replied impatiently. “Just keep moving. We’ll hide behind the
couch.”

  We crept on tiptoe over the attic floorboards. I couldn’t see a thing. The heavy clouds kept any light from washing in through the windows.

  Finally, my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I could see the arms of the couch. I saw dummy heads. Dummy shoulders. Shadows against shadows.

  “Dan — where are you?” I whispered.

  “Back here. Hurry.” His whisper came from behind the couch.

  I could feel the dummy eyes on me as I made my way around the couch. I thought I heard a soft snicker. The evil laughter again.

  But that had to be my imagination.

  I trailed my hand over the couch arm. Felt a wooden dummy hand resting on the arm. The dummy hand felt surprisingly warm.

  Humanly warm.

  Don’t start imagining things, Trina, I scolded myself.

  That dummy hand is warm because it’s hot up in this attic.

  The wind rattled the glass. Strong gusts roared against the roof, so low over our heads.

  I heard a loud groan. A soft chuckle. A strange whistling sound.

  Ignoring all the attic noises, I ducked down on the floor beside my brother. “Well? Here we are,” I whispered. “Now what?”

  “Sssshhhh.” In the darkness, I could see him raise a finger to his lips. “Now we wait. And listen.”

  We both turned and rested our backs against the back of the couch. I raised my knees and wrapped my arms around them.

  “He isn’t coming,” I whispered. “This is a waste of time.”

  “Ssshhh. Just wait, Trina,” Dan scolded. “Give him time.”

  I yawned. I felt so sleepy. The heat of the attic was making me even sleepier.

  I shut my eyes and thought about Zane.

  At dinner, he couldn’t wait to pass around the photographs of Rocky. “I don’t know who took these shots,” Zane complained to my dad. “But they wasted half a roll of film.”

  Dad glared angrily at Dan and me. But he didn’t make a fuss. “Can we talk about it after dinner?” he suggested quietly.

  “I’m kind of scared,” Zane told Dad in a trembling voice. “So many weird things have been happening. It’s like the dummies have lives of their own.” He shook his head. “Wow. I hope I don’t have nightmares tonight.”

  “Let’s not talk about the dummies now,” Mom chimed in. “Zane, tell us about your school. Who is your teacher this year? What are you studying?”

  “Could I have a second helping of potatoes?” Uncle Cal interrupted. He reached for the bowl. “They’re so good. I may have to make a pig of myself.”

  Dad took another quick glance at the close-up snapshots of Rocky. He flashed Dan and me another angry scowl. Then he set the photos down on the floor.

  After dinner, Dan and I were careful to keep as far away from Dad as we could. No way we wanted to hear another lecture about how we were terrifying our poor cousin. And how we’d be punished if we didn’t stop it at once.

  Now it was a little before midnight. And we were huddled in the dark attic. Listening to the swirling wind and the moans and groans of the house. Backs pressed against the couch. Waiting …

  I kept my eyes closed. Thinking hard. Thinking about Zane. About Rocky.

  Dan and I aren’t alone up here, I thought drowsily. There are thirteen wooden dummies up here with us. Thirteen pairs of eyes staring into the heavy darkness. Thirteen frozen grins. Except for Rocky’s sneer, of course.

  Empty, lifeless bodies …

  Heavy, wooden heads and hands …

  Thinking about the dummies, the dummies all around, I guess I drifted off to sleep.

  Did I dream about the dummies?

  Maybe I did.

  I don’t know how long I slept.

  I was awakened by footsteps. Soft, shuffling footsteps across the attic floor.

  And I knew the dummies had come alive.

  I jerked my head up, listening hard.

  My hands were still wrapped around my knees. Both hands had fallen asleep. They tingled. The back of my neck ached. My mouth felt dry and sour.

  I uttered a silent gasp as I heard the shuffling, scraping footsteps move closer.

  Not dummies walking around, I realized.

  A single figure. One. One person. Moving slowly, carefully toward the couch.

  Why did I think I heard dummies moving? It must have been a picture left over from my dream.

  I shook my hands, trying to make them stop tingling.

  I was wide awake now. Totally alert.

  The footsteps scraped closer.

  Could it be Dan? Where was Dan?

  Had he climbed up while I slept? Was he making his way back to the couch?

  No.

  Squinting into the darkness, I saw Dan beside me.

  He had climbed to his knees. He saw me move. He waved his hand and signaled for me to be silent.

  Dan gripped the back of the couch with both hands. Then he leaned forward and peered out into the room.

  I crawled to the other end of the couch. Then, keeping low, I poked my head out and squinted into the deep shadows. All grays and blacks.

  The wind howled around the house. Across the big attic room, the windowpanes rattled and shook.

  I wanted to jump out. To scream and jump out. And flash on the light.

  But I felt Dan’s hand on my arm. He must have read my thoughts. He raised a finger to his lips.

  We both waited. Frozen there behind the couch. Crouching low. Listening to each footstep. Each creak of the floorboards.

  The dark figure stopped in front of the folding chair next to the couch. He stood inches from Dan and me. If I wanted to, I could reach out and grab his leg.

  I struggled to see his face. But it was hidden by the couch. And I didn’t dare raise myself up higher.

  I heard the clonk of wood against wood. Two dummy hands hitting each other.

  I heard the rustle of heavy cloth. The thud of leather shoes bumping each other.

  The intruder had picked up a dummy off the chair.

  Squinting into the deep blackness, I could see him swing the dummy over his shoulder. I could see the dummy arms swaying, swaying at his back.

  The dark figure turned away quickly. And began walking to the attic stairs.

  I crept out from behind the couch. Moving on tiptoe, I began to follow the intruder.

  Pressed against the wall, tiptoeing as silently as I could, I moved across the room. I held my breath. I could hear Dan close behind me.

  I reached the light switch just as the intruder made it to the stairs.

  My hand fumbled against the wall as I reached.

  Reached … reached for the light switch with a trembling hand.

  Yes!

  I flicked on the light. And Dan and I both shrieked at the same time.

  “Zane!”

  My brother and I both screamed his name.

  Zane’s eyes bulged. His mouth opened in a high, frightened wail.

  I saw his knees bend. I think he nearly crumpled to the floor.

  He uttered several squeaks. Then his mouth hung open. I could see he was gasping for breath.

  “Zane — we caught you!” I managed to choke out.

  He had Rocky draped over his shoulder.

  “What — what?” Zane struggled to speak, but no words came out. He sputtered and started to choke. The sneering dummy bounced on his shoulder.

  “Zane — we figured it out,” Dan told him. “Your little tricks aren’t going to work.”

  Our cousin was still sputtering and coughing.

  “We know it’s been you all along,” Dan told him. He stepped over and slapped Zane hard on the back a few times.

  After a few seconds, Zane stopped sputtering.

  Dan picked Rocky up off Zane’s shoulder and started to carry him back to his chair.

  “H-h-how did you know?” Zane stammered.

  “We just figured it out,” I told him. “What’s the big idea, anyway?”

  Zane shrugged. He lowered his eyes
to the floor. “You know. Just having some fun.”

  I glared at him. “Some fun?” I cried angrily. “You tried to get us in huge trouble. You — you could have ruined our whole summer!”

  Zane shrugged again. “It was kind of my turn. You know?”

  “Well, we’re even now,” Dan chimed in.

  “Right,” I agreed quickly. “We’re all even now — right, Zane?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I guess.” A grin spread slowly over his face. “I had you guys going, didn’t I? With that stupid dummy popping up everywhere you looked.”

  Dan and I didn’t grin back.

  “You fooled us,” I murmured.

  “You fooled everyone,” my brother added.

  Zane grinned. A gleeful grin. I could see how pleased he was with himself. “I guess Dan and I deserved it,” I confessed.

  “Guess you did,” Zane shot back. Would he ever stop grinning?

  “So now that we’re even, do we have a truce?” I demanded. “No more joking around with the dummies? No more trying to scare each other or get anyone in trouble?”

  Zane bit his lower lip. He thought about it a long, long time. “Okay. Truce,” he said finally.

  We all shook hands solemnly. Then we slapped each other high fives. Then the three of us started laughing. I’m not sure why. The laughter just burst out of us.

  Crazy giggling.

  I guess because it was so late and we were so sleepy. And we were so glad we could be friends now. We didn’t have to play tricks on each other anymore.

  As we made our way down the stairs, I felt really happy.

  I thought all the scary stuff with the dummies was over.

  I had no way of knowing that it was just beginning.

  The next morning, Dan, Zane, and I went for a long bike ride. The strong winds had faded away during the night. A soft breeze, warm and fresh-smelling, followed us as we pedaled along the path.

  The trees were still winter bare. The ground glistened with a silvery morning frost. But the sweet, warm air told me that spring was on its way.

  We biked slowly, following a dirt path that curved into the woods. The sun, still low in the sky, warmed our faces. I stopped to unzip my jacket. And pointed to a patch of green daffodil leaves just beginning to poke up from the ground.