Norton, Andre - Anthology Read Free

if in
answer, and for just the flicker of an eyelid the button eyes seemed to reflect
the light with a yellow gleam. "I don't want to stay up here," Jason
said. "I want to come down and watch television for a while."
                   Molly considered this. She would be in trouble
if he let it slip tomorrow that she allowed him to stay up late to watch
television. Still, if she made him stay up here and he scared himself sick
because of her stories, she would be in worse trouble. "Okay," she
said.
                   She left him curled up in their father's
armchair in the living room and went into the kitchen to heat some water for
instant cocoa. Maybe that would soothe him enough to send him back to bed.
                   When she returned to the living room, a
marshmallow-topped mug in each hand, she stumbled over something in the
doorway. "That's a dumb place to leave anything," she said as hot
cocoa sloshed over her fingers. "Why'd you bring that thing down, anyway?
I thought you didn't like him."
                   She gave the patchwork monkey a kick into the
middle of the room. It landed sitting up, facing her.
                   Jason huddled himself deeper into the corner
of the chair. "I didn't bring him."
                   "Well, I didn't bring him. So how else
did he get here?"
                   A little more cocoa spilled as Molly set the
dripping mugs added very firmly, "He certainly didn't come by
himself."
                   Jason stared at her from wide, dark eyes.
"I didn't bring him."
                   Molly stood quite still. The monkey had
drooped forward so that its front paws touched the floor between sprawled hind
legs. It looked as if it were gathering itself for a clumsy leap. A gust of rain
spattered against the windows. The drizzle that had been falling all day was
growing into a real storm.
                   "Maybe he did come by himself,"
Jason whispered.
                   So that was it. Molly suddenly understood.
Jason was trying to get even with her for scaring him. He was out to scare her.
                   "If you're going to be that silly, I'm
shutting him in the hall closet where he can't get out. I'd shut Mrs. Welles in there, too, if she was here."
                   Molly stalked to the monkey, grabbed it by its
arms, and marched into the hall. A pain jabbed her fingers. She knew it was
from the imitation claws, but it felt like tiny fangs sinking in. It felt, too,
as if the monkey were wriggling in her grip, trying to
get free, but that, of course, was only the effect of its heavy body swinging
from its captive arms. The thing must be stuffed with lead. She needed both
hands to thrust it up on the shelf in the closet.
                   "There." She slammed the door and
heard the latch snap into place.
                   Then she switched on the hall light and
another light inside the living room door and a third one on the other side of
the room. Not a shadow was left lurking anywhere. Then she twisted the
television dial to a channel that filled the screen with dancers in beautiful
gowns. Happy party music lilted from the speaker.
                   "Drink your cocoa," she told Jason.
"I don't want it." Jason was eyeing her fingers. There were streaks
of blood on them. "He bit you, too, didn't he?"
                  Molly put her hand to her mouth. The punctures
were beginning to smart. "Scratched, not bit. That's a dumb toy to give
anybody. It doesn't have to be alive to kill you."
                   "But what if it is?" Jason asked.
                   "Is what?" A flash of lightning
beyond the windows dimmed the lights for an instant.
                   "Is alive." Jason gave a strange giggle. He was rubbing the scratch on his neck again.
"What if everything you said is really true?"