Night of the living dummy by R.L. Stine | Page 5

Mrs. Powell said, sighing. But she made no move to push Barky off. Kris sat down away from the others, on the floor by the steps, cradling her chin in her hands."You're looking glum this evening," her father remarked. "Can I get a dummy, too?" Kris asked. She hadn't really planned to say it. The question just popped out of her mouth. Lindy came back into the room, carrying Slappy around the waist. "Ready?" she asked. She pulled a dining room chair into the center of the living room and sat down on it. "Well, can I?" Kris repeated. "You really want one, too?" Mrs. Powell asked, surprised. "Want what?" Lindy asked, confused. "Kris says she wants a dummy, too," Mrs. Powell reported."No way," Lindy said heatedly. "Why do you want to be such a copycat?" "It looks like fun," Kris replied, her cheeks turning bright pink. "If you can do it, I can do it, too," she added shrilly. "You always copy everything I do," Lindy protested angrily. "Why don't you find something of your own for once? Go upstairs and work on your junk jewelry collection. That's your hobby. Let me be the ventriloquist." "Girls" � Mr. Powell started, raising a hand for quiet � "please, don't fight over a dummy.""I really think I'd be better at it," Kris said. "I mean, Lindy isn't very funny." "Everyone thinks I'm funny," Lindy insisted. "That's not very nice, Kris," Mrs. Powell scolded. "Well, I just think if Lindy has one, I should be able to have one, too," Kris said to her parents. "Copycat," Lindy repeated, shaking her head. "You've been putting me down all week. You said it was nerdy. But I know why you changed your mind. You're upset because I'm going to earn some money and you're not." "I really wish you two wouldn't argue about everything," Mr. Powell said disgustedly. "Well, can I have a dummy?" Kris asked him. "They're expensive," Mr. Powell replied, glancing at his wife. "A good one will cost more than a hundred dollars. I really don't think we can afford to buy one now." "Why don't you both share Slappy?" Mrs. Powell suggested. "Huh?" Lindy's mouth dropped open in protest. "You two always share everything," Mrs. Powell continued. "So why don't you share Slappy?" "But, Mom � " Lindy whined unhappily. "Excellent idea," Mr. Powell interrupted. He motioned to Kris. "Try it out. After you share him for a while, I'm sure one of you will lose interest in him. Maybe even both of you." Kris climbed to her feet and walked over to Lindy. She reached out for the dummy. "I don't mind sharing," she said quietly, searching her sister's eyes for approval of the idea. "Can I hold him for just a second?" Lindy held onto Slappy tightly. Suddenly the dummy's head tilted back and his mouth opened wide. "Beat it, Kris!" he snarled in a harsh raspy voice. "Get lost, you stupid moron!" Before Kris could back away, Slappy's wooden hand shot up, and he slapped her hard across the face. "Ow!" Kris screamed and raised her hand to her cheek, which was bright pink. She stepped back. "Stop it, Lindy! That hurt!" "Me?" Lindy cried. "I didn't do it! Slappy did!" "Don't be dumb," Kris protested, rubbing her cheek. "You really hurt me." "But I didn't do it!" Lindy cried. She turned Slappy's face toward her. "Why were you so rude to Kris?" Mr. Powell jumped up from the couch. "Stop acting dumb and apologize to your sister," he ordered. Lindy bowed Slappy's head. "I'm sorry," she made the dummy say. "No. In your own voice," Mr. Powell insisted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Slappy didn't hurt Kris. You did." "Okay, okay," Lindy muttered, blushing. She avoided Kris's angry stare. "I'm sorry. Here." She dumped Slappy into Kris's arms. Kris was so surprised, she nearly dropped the dummy. Slappy was heavier than she'd imagined. "Now what am I supposed to do with him?" Kris asked Lindy. Lindy shrugged and crossed the room to the couch, where she dropped down beside her mother. "Why'd you make such a fuss?" Mrs. Powell whispered, leaning close to Lindy. "That was so babyish." Lindy blushed. "Slappy is mine! Why can't something be mine for once?" "Sometimes you girls are so nice to each other, and sometimes . . ." Mrs. Powell's voice trailed off. Mr. Powell took a seat on the padded arm of the chair across the room. "How do I make his mouth work?" Kris asked, tilting the dummy upside down to examine its back. "There's a string in his back, inside the slit in his jacket," Lindy told her grudgingly. "You just pull it." I don't want Kris to work Slappy, Lindy thought unhappily. I