Night of the Living Dummy Read Free

sister. Kris was sitting on the curb, cradling her head in her hands, a dejected look on her face.
    She’s jealous, Lindy realized. Kris sees that the kids really like Slappy and that I’m getting all the attention. And she’s totally jealous.
    I’m definitely keeping Slappy! Lindy told herself, secretly pleased at her little triumph.
    She stared into the dummy’s bright blue painted eyes. To her surprise, the dummy seemed to be staring back at her, a twinkle of sunlight in his eyes, his grin wide and knowing.

 
    3

    “Who was that on the phone?” Mr. Powell asked, shoveling another forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.
    Lindy slipped back into her place at the table. “It was Mrs. Marshall. Down the block.”
    “Does she want you to baby-sit?” Mrs. Powell asked, reaching for the salad bowl. She turned to Kris. “Don’t you want any salad?”
    Kris wiped spaghetti sauce off her chin with her napkin. “Maybe later.”
    “No,” Lindy answered. “She wants me to perform. At Amy’s birthday party. With Slappy.”
    “Your first job,” Mr. Powell said, a smile crossing his slender face.
    “Amy and Ben liked Slappy so much, they insisted on him,” Lindy said. “Mrs. Marshall is going to pay me twenty dollars.”
    “That’s great!” their mother exclaimed. She passed the salad bowl across the table to her husband.
    It had been a week since Lindy rescued Slappy from the trash Dumpster. Every day after school, she had spent hours up in her room rehearsing with him, working on his voice, practicing not moving her lips, thinking up jokes to perform with him.
    Kris kept insisting the whole thing was dumb. “I can’t believe you’re being such a nerd,” she told her sister. She refused to be an audience for Lindy’s routines.
    But when Lindy brought Slappy into school on Friday, Kris’ attitude began to change. A group of kids had gathered around Lindy outside her locker.
    As Lindy made Slappy talk for them, Kris watched from down the hall. She’s going to make a total fool of herself, Kris thought.
    But to her surprise, the kids hooted and howled. They thought Slappy was a riot. Even Robby Martin, the guy Kris had had a crush on for two years, thought Lindy was terrific.
    Watching Robby laugh along with the other kids made Kris think hard. Becoming a ventriloquist might be fun.
    And profitable. Lindy was going to earn twenty dollars at the Marshalls’ birthday party. And when word got around, she’d probably perform at a lot of parties and earn even more money.
    After dinner that evening, Lindy and Kris washed and dried the dishes. Then Lindy asked her parents if she could practice her new comedy routine on them. She hurried up to her room to get Slappy.
    Mr. and Mrs. Powell took a seat on the living room couch. “Maybe Lindy will be a TV star,” Mrs. Powell said.
    “Maybe,” Mr. Powell agreed, settling back on the couch, a pleased smile on his face. Barky yapped and climbed between Mr. and Mrs. Powell, his tiny stub of a tail wagging furiously.
    “You know you’re not allowed on the couch,” 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,