by R. L. Stine
“Get dressed,” Kris said with renewed energy. “We’ll bury him under all that dirt. Then we’ll never have to think about him again.”
Lindy shuddered and turned her eyes to her dummy, folded up in the chair. “I can’t bear to look at Slappy anymore. I’m so sorry I got us interested in dummies.”
“Ssshhh. Just get dressed,” Kris said impatiently.
A few minutes later, the two girls crept down the stairs in the darkness. Kris carried the suitcase in both arms, trying to muffle the sound of Mr. Wood’s angry protests.
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened for any sign that they had awakened their parents.
Silence.
Lindy pulled open the front door and they slipped outside.
The air was surprisingly cool and wet. A heavy dew had begun to fall, making the front lawn glisten under the light of a half-moon. Blades of wet grass clung to their sneakers as they made their way to the garage.
As Kris held onto the suitcase, Lindy slowly, quietly, pulled open the garage door. When it was halfway up, she ducked and slipped inside.
A few seconds later she emerged, carrying a large snow shovel. “This should do it,” she said, whispering even though no one was around.
Kris glanced down the street as they headed across the yard to the lot next door. The heavy morning dew misted the glow of the streetlamps, making the pale light appear to bend and flicker like candles. Everything seemed to shimmer under the dark purple sky.
Kris set the suitcase down beside the tall mound of dirt. “We’ll dig right down here,” she said, pointing toward the bottom of the mound. “We’ll shove him in and cover him.”
“I’m warning you,” Mr. Wood threatened, listening inside the suitcase. “Your plan won’t work. I have powers!”
“You dig first,” Kris told her sister, ignoring the dummy’s threat. “Then I’ll take a turn.”
Lindy dug into the pile and heaved up a shovelful of dirt. Kris shivered. The heavy dew felt cold and damp. A cloud floated over the moon, darkening the sky from purple to black.
“Let me out!” Mr. Wood called. “Let me out now, and your punishment won’t be too severe.”
“Dig faster,” Kris whispered impatiently.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Lindy replied. She had dug a pretty good-sized square-shaped hole at the base of the mound. “How much deeper, do you think?”
“Deeper,” Kris said. “Here. Watch the suitcase. I’ll take a turn.” She changed places with Lindy and started to dig.
Something scampered heavily near the low shrubs that separated the yards. Kris looked up, saw a moving shadow, and gasped.
“Raccoon, I think,” Lindy said with a shudder. “Are we going to bury Mr. Wood in the suitcase, or are we going to take him out?”
“Think Mom will notice the suitcase is gone?” Kris asked, tossing a shovelful of wet dirt to the side.
Lindy shook her head. “We never use it.”
“We’ll bury him in the suitcase,” Kris said. “It’ll be easier.”
“You’ll be sorry,” the dummy rasped. The suitcase shook and nearly toppled onto its side.
“I’m so sleepy,” Lindy moaned, tossing her socks onto the floor, then sliding her feet under the covers.
“I’m wide awake,” Kris replied, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I guess it’s because I’m so happy. So happy we got rid of that awful creature.”
“It’s all so weird,” Lindy said, adjusting her pillow behind her head. “I don’t blame Mom or Dad for not believing it. I’m not sure I believe it, either.”
“You put the shovel back where you found it?” Kris asked.
Lindy nodded. “Yeah,” she said sleepily.
“And you closed the garage door?”
“Ssshhh. I’m asleep,” Lindy said. “At least there’s no school tomorrow. We can sleep late.”
“I hope I can fall asleep,” Kris said doubtfully. “I’m just so pumped. It’s all like some kind of hideously gross nightmare. I just think… Lindy? Lindy—are you still awake?”
No. Her sister had fallen asleep.
Kris stared up at the ceiling. She pulled the blankets up to her chin. She still felt chilled. She couldn’t shake the cold dampness of the early morning air.
After a short while, with thoughts of everything that had happened that night whirring crazily in her head, Kris fell asleep, too.
The rumble of machines woke her up at eight-thirty the next morning. Stretching, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, Kris stumbled to the window, leaned over the chair holding Slappy, and peered out.
It was a gray, cloudy day. Two enormous yellow steamrollers were rolling over the lot next door behind the newly constructed house, flattening the land.
I wonder if they’re going to flatten that big mound of dirt, Kris thought, staring down at them. That would really be excellent.
Kris smiled. She hadn’t slept very long, but she felt refreshed.
Lindy was still sound asleep. Kris tiptoed past her, pulled her robe on, and headed downstairs.
“Morning, Mom,” she called brightly, tying the belt to her robe as she entered the kitchen.
Mrs. Powell turned from the sink to face her. Kris was surprised to see an angry expression on her face.
She followed her mother’s stare to the breakfast counter.
“Oh!” Kris gasped when she saw Mr. Wood. He was seated at the counter, his hands in his lap. His hair was matted with red-brown dirt, and he had dirt smears on his cheeks and forehead.
Kris raised her hands to her face in horror.
“I thought you were told never to bring that thing down here!” Mrs. Powell scolded. “What do I have to do, Kris?” She turned angrily back to the sink.
The dummy winked at Kris and flashed her a wide, evil grin.
23
As Kris stared in horror at the grinning dummy, Mr. Powell suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Ready?” he asked his wife.
Mrs. Powell hung the dishtowel on the rack and turned around, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. “Ready. I’ll get my bag.” She brushed past him into the front hallway.
“Where are you going?” Kris cried, her voice revealing her alarm. She kept her eyes on the dummy at the counter.
“Just doing a little shopping at the garden store,” her father told her, stepping into the room, peering out the kitchen window. “Looks like rain.”
“Don’t go!” Kris pleaded.
“Huh?” He turned toward her.
“Don’t go—please!” Kris cried.
Her father’s eyes landed on the dummy. He walked over to him. “Hey—what’s the big idea?” her father asked angrily.
“I thought you wanted to take him back to the pawn shop,” Kris replied, thinking quickly.
“Not till Monday,” her father replied. “Today is Saturday, remember?”
The dummy blinked. Mr. Powell didn’t notice.
“Do you have to go shopping now?” Kris asked in a tiny voice.
Before her father could answer, Mrs. Powell reappeared in the doorway. “Here. Catch,” she called, and tossed the car keys to him. “Let’s go before it pours.”
Mr. Powell started to the door. “Why don’t you want us to go?” he asked.
“The dummy—” Kris started. But she knew it was hopeless. They’d never listen. They’d never believe her. “Never mind,” she muttered.
A few seconds later, she heard their car back down the driveway. They were gone.
And she was alone in the kitchen with the grinning dummy.
Mr. Wood turned toward her slowly, swiveling the tall counter stool. His big eyes locked angrily on Kris’.
“I warned you,” he rasped.
Barky came trotting into the kitchen, his toenails clicking loudly on the linoleum. He sniffed the floor as he ran, searching for breakfast scraps someone might have dropped.
“Barky, where’ve you been?” Kris asked, glad to have company.
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The dog ignored her and sniffed under the stool Mr. Wood sat on.
“He was upstairs, waking me up,” Lindy said, rubbing her eyes as she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing white tennis shorts and a sleeveless magenta T-shirt. “Stupid dog.”
Barky licked at a spot on the linoleum.
Lindy cried out as she spotted Mr. Wood. “Oh, no!”
“I’m back,” the dummy rasped. “And I’m very unhappy with you two slaves.”
Lindy turned to Kris, her mouth open in surprise and terror.
Kris kept her eyes trained on the dummy. What does he plan to do? she wondered. How can I stop him?
Burying him under all that dirt hadn’t kept him from returning. Somehow he had freed himself from the suitcase and pulled himself out.
Wasn’t there any way to defeat him? Any way at all?
Grinning his evil grin, Mr. Wood dropped down to the floor, his sneakers thudding hard on the floor. “I’m very unhappy with you two slaves,” he repeated in his growly voice.
“What are you going to do?” Lindy cried in a shrill, frightened voice.
“I have to punish you,” the dummy replied. “I have to prove to you that I am serious.”
“Wait!” Kris cried.
But the dummy moved quickly. He reached down and grabbed Barky by the neck with both hands.
As the dummy tightened his grip, the frightened terrier began to howl in pain.
24
“I warned you,” Mr. Wood snarled over the howls of the little black terrier. “You will do as I say—or one by one, those you love will suffer!”
“No!” Kris cried.
Barky let out a high-pitched whelp, a bleat of pain that made Kris shudder.
“Let go of Barky!” Kris screamed.
The dummy giggled.
Barky uttered a hoarse gasp.
Kris couldn’t stand it any longer. She and Lindy leapt at the dummy from two sides. Lindy tackled his legs. Kris grabbed Barky and tugged.
Lindy dragged the dummy to the floor. But his wooden hands held a tight grip on the dog’s throat.
Barky’s howls became a muffled whimper as he struggled to breathe.
“Let go! Let go!” Kris shrieked.
“I warned you!” the dummy snarled as Lindy held tight to his kicking legs. “The dog must die now!”
“No!” Kris let go of the gasping dog. She slid her hands down to the dummy’s wrists. Then with a fierce tug, she pulled the wooden hands apart.
Barky dropped to the floor, wheezing. He scampered to the corner, his paws sliding frantically over the smooth floor.
“You’ll pay now!” Mr. Wood growled. Jerking free from Kris, he swung his wooden hand up, landing a hard blow on Kris’ forehead.
She cried out in pain and raised her hands to her head.
She heard Barky yipping loudly behind her.
“Let go of me!” Mr. Wood demanded, turning back to Lindy, who still held onto his legs.
“No way!” Lindy cried. “Kris—grab his arms again.”
Her head still throbbing, Kris lunged forward to grab the dummy’s arms.
But he lowered his head as she approached and clamped his wooden jaws around her wrist.
“Owww!” Kris howled in pain and pulled back.
Lindy lifted the dummy up by the legs, then slammed his body hard against the floor. He uttered a furious growl and tried to kick free of her.
Kris lunged again, and this time grabbed one arm, then the other. He lowered his head to bite once more, but she dodged away and pulled his arms tight behind his back.
“I’m warning you!” he bellowed. “I’m warning you!”
Barky yipped excitedly, hopping up on Kris.
“What do we do with him?” Lindy cried, shouting over the dummy’s angry threats.
“Outside!” Kris yelled, pressing the arms more tightly behind Mr. Wood’s back.
She suddenly remembered the two steamrollers she had seen moving over the yard next door, flattening the ground. “Come on,” she urged her sister. “We’ll crush him!”
“I’m warning you! I have powers!” the dummy screamed.
Ignoring him, Kris pulled open the kitchen door and they carried their wriggling captive outside.
The sky was charcoal-gray. A light rain had begun to fall. The grass was already wet.
Over the low shrubs that separated the yards, the girls could see the two enormous yellow steamrollers, one in the back, one at the side of the next-door lot. They looked like huge, lumbering animals, their giant black rollers flattening everything in their path.
“This way! Hurry!” Kris shouted to her sister, holding the dummy tightly as she ran. “Toss him under that one!”
“Let me go! Let me go, slaves!” the dummy screamed. “This is your last chance!” He swung his head hard, trying to bite Kris’ arm.
Thunder rumbled, low in the distance.
The girls ran at full speed, slipping on the wet grass as they hurried toward the fast-moving steamroller.
They were just a few yards away from the enormous machine when they saw Barky. His tail wagging furiously, he scampered ahead of them.
“Oh, no! How’d he get out?” Lindy cried.
Gazing back at them, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, prancing happily in the wet grass, the dog was running right into the path of the rumbling steamroller.
“No, Barky!” Kris shrieked in horror. “No! Barky—no!”
25
Letting go of Mr. Wood, both girls dove toward the dog. Hands outstretched, they slid on their stomachs on the wet grass.
Unaware of any problem, enjoying the game of tag, Barky scampered away.
Lindy and Kris rolled out of the path of the steamroller.
“Hey—get away from there!” the angry operator shouted through the high window of the steamroller. “Are you girls crazy?”
They leapt to their feet and turned back to Mr. Wood.
The rain began to come down a little harder. A jagged streak of white lightning flashed high in the sky.
“I’m free!” the dummy cried, hands raised victoriously above his head. “Now you will pay!”
“Get him!” Kris shouted to her sister.
The rain pelted their hair and shoulders. The two girls lowered their heads, leaned into the rain, and began to chase after the dummy.
Mr. Wood turned and started to run.
He never saw the other steamroller.
The gigantic black wheel rolled right over him, pushing him onto his back, then crushing him with a loud crunch.
A loud hiss rose up from under the machine, like air escaping from a large balloon.
The steamroller appeared to rock back and forth.
A strange green gas spurted up from beneath the wheel, into the air, spreading out in an eerie, mushroom-shaped cloud.
Barky stopped scampering and stood frozen in place, his eyes following the green gas as it floated up against the nearly black sky.
Lindy and Kris stared in open mouthed wonder.
Pushed by the wind and the rain, the green gas floated over them.
“Yuck! It stinks!” Lindy declared.
It smelled like rotten eggs.
Barky uttered a low whimper.
The steamroller backed up. The driver jumped out and came running toward them. He was a short, stocky man with big, muscular arms bulging out from the sleeves of his T-shirt. His face was bright red under a short, blond flattop, his eyes wide with horror.
“A kid?” he cried. “I—I ran over a kid?”
“No. He was a dummy,” Kris told him. “He wasn’t alive.”
He stopped. His face faded from red to flour-white. He uttered a loud, grateful sigh. “Oh, man,” he moaned. “Oh, man. I thought it was a kid.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he bent to examine the area beneath his wheel. As the girls came near, they saw the remains of the dummy, crushed flat inside its jeans and flannel shirt.
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��Hey, I’m real sorry,” the man said, wiping his forehead with his T-shirt sleeve as he straightened up to face them. “I couldn’t stop in time.”
“That’s okay,” Kris said, a wide smile forming on her face.
“Yeah. Really. It’s okay,” Lindy quickly agreed.
Barky moved close to sniff the crushed dummy.
The man shook his head. “I’m so relieved. It looked like it was running. I really thought it was a kid. I was so scared.”
“No. Just a dummy,” Kris told him.
“Whew!” The man exhaled slowly. “Close one.” His expression changed. “What are you girls doing out in the rain, anyway?”
Lindy shrugged. Kris shook her head. “Just walking the dog.”
The man picked up the crushed dummy. The head crumbled to powder as he lifted it. “You want this thing?”
“You can throw it in the trash,” Kris told him.
“Better get out of the rain,” he told them. “And don’t scare me like that again.”
The girls apologized, then headed back to the house. Kris cast a happy grin at her sister. Lindy grinned back.
I may grin forever, Kris thought. I’m so happy. So relieved.
They wiped their wet sneakers on the mat, then held the kitchen door open for Barky. “Wow. What a morning!” Lindy declared.
They followed the dog into the kitchen. Outside, a flash of bright lightning was followed by a roar of thunder.
“I’m drenched,” Kris said. “I’m going up to get changed.”
“Me, too.” Lindy followed her up the stairs.
They entered their bedroom to find the window wide open, the curtains slapping wildly, rain pouring in. “Oh, no!” Kris hurried across the room to shut the window.
As she leaned over the chair to grab the window frame, Slappy reached up and grabbed her arm.
“Hey, slave—is that other guy gone?” the dummy asked in a throaty growl. “I thought he’d never leave!”
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