Diary of a Dummy Page 7

  I opened the book and pretended to read it. “Hmmmmm. Very interesting …”

  “I’m giving you one more chance to hand me the diary,” the dummy rasped.

  I continued reading.

  “Billy—what are you doing?” Laci demanded in a high, trembling voice. “Give her the book. Stop fooling around.”

  “Let us go—now!” I told Goldie. “Let us go and I’ll give you the book.”

  “Don’t try to bargain with me. I can make it painful for you, young man,” Goldie said in a low growl.

  “You want the book?” I said, holding it out of her reach. “Then let us out of this house.”

  Her wooden lips clicked several times. She uttered an angry growl. “You asked for it.”

  I gripped the book in both hands. I felt it start to grow warm. The book heated up. Warmer. Then warmer. Then blazing hot as if ON FIRE!

  “Owwwwwww.” I let out a cry. “My hands! It’s burning me! Burning me! My hands are on fire!”

  I tossed the book from one hand to the other. It sizzled, hot like a burning coal.

  Goldie had both hands raised, ready to catch it when I dropped it.

  But I didn’t drop it. I just kept flinging it from hand to hand. Sure, it burned, but there was no way I’d let her have it.

  Not until she promised to let us go.

  “Okay, okay,” she said finally. She tossed her head, and her blond curls shook like Jell-O. “Okay. I can be reasonable,” Goldie said. “We can make a deal.”

  My back ached from being pressed against the wall. And my feet were numb from hanging off the floor.

  “I need that diary,” Goldie said. “You can’t keep it from me.”

  “What’s your deal?” I asked.

  She raised both hands toward me. “Give me the diary and I’ll let you go home.”

  Did I believe her?

  Not really.

  Did I have a choice?

  No. Not really.

  “Let us down off the walls first, and we can talk,” I said.

  How did I suddenly get so brave?

  Beats me.

  Goldie waved her hand in the air, and the three of us slid down to the floor. I landed hard on my feet. My knees started to fold, but I caught myself and stood upright.

  My feet were still numb. But I could feel the blood start to rush back down to them.

  The diary was still warm in my hand. I pressed it against my chest, protecting it from Goldie.

  Maggie and Laci were stretching their arms and bending their backs. “Are you really going to let us out of here?” my sister asked.

  Goldie didn’t answer. Instead, she charged at me. With a shrill cry, she tackled me around the waist. Bumped me back against the wall.

  The diary fell from my hand.

  It hit the floor and bounced.

  I dove for it. But Goldie shouldered me out of the way. She pounced—and grabbed it.

  Laughing, she spun away from me as I staggered off-balance, struggling to straighten up. She raised the diary in front of me and laughed some more, a horrible cackle of victory.

  “It’s mine!” she screamed.

  She cackled again and waved the diary in the air above her head.

  “Are you going to let us go home now?” Maggie asked.

  Goldie stopped her celebration. She turned to the three of us. “Go home?” she said. “Did I say that? Oops. My mistake. I meant to say, now all three of you are doomed. Afraid I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

  A chill of fear ran down my back. “Wh-what are you going to do to us?” I stammered.

  “I’m thinking … I’m thinking. What should I do to you three?” She shut her eyes. “What would be painful for you and entertaining to me?”

  “Please let us go!” Laci cried. “Please!”

  “You will be good servants,” Goldie said, ignoring Laci’s plea. “You are sharp and young. And you will learn how to obey my every whim.”

  “Please—!” Laci had tears in her eyes. Maggie slid an arm around her waist.

  I eyed the front door. It was only a few feet away.

  So close … so close.

  “Yes, the front door seems very close and inviting,” Goldie said, as if reading my mind. “Will I let you escape that way? I don’t think so.”

  “We can’t be your servants!” Maggie shouted. “We’re just kids. We have to go to school.”

  The dummy tossed back her head and laughed. “No worries,” she said. “I’ll teach you a lot here. Things you can’t learn in school.”

  My sister still had her arm around Laci’s waist, comforting her. Without warning, the two of them burst forward, running side by side toward the front door.

  I held my breath. Could they make it?

  Goldie swung two hands in the air.

  The girls stumbled. Maggie twisted her body around. I could see her trying to pull her arm away from Laci.

  Laci turned back. Her face was wide with horror. “We’re stuck together!” she cried. “What did you do?”

  “My arm is stuck to Laci!” Maggie wailed. “Our legs are stuck together!”

  Goldie laughed her cold, throaty laugh. “You two are very close friends—aren’t you? Hahaha!”

  “Let us go!” Maggie screamed, twisting and struggling to pull her arm off Laci.

  “Good friends stick together!” Goldie cried. She laughed again.

  The two girls tried to pull free of one another. But Goldie’s spell held them firmly.

  “Haha. Stick around,” Goldie said. “I’ve decided how I’m going to teach you three to obey me.”

  “Wh-what are you talking about?” I stammered. “You’ve already done enough to us!”

  “I’m going to have a party,” the dummy said. “A dinner party. And I’m going to invite my friends who live with me in this house.” She sighed. “It’s going to be lovely. I know my friends are very hungry.”

  “Friends?” I cried. “Who else lives in this house?”

  Goldie ignored my question. “Do you know what I’m going to serve for dinner?” she asked. “YOU!”

  She waved both hands.

  I heard a scraping sound. A chittering whistle. Tapping on the floor, like tiny footsteps, all around us.

  I let out a cry as a pack of gray rats came scuttling out, noses twitching, long tails whipping behind them.

  “Nooooo,” I groaned.

  Maggie had managed to pull apart from Laci. Both girls huddled behind me as the rats rumbled toward us.

  “No—please!” Maggie cried, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

  “I—I hate rats!” Laci exclaimed in a high, shrill gasp.

  “My friends are very hungry,” Goldie said. “There is so little to eat in this empty house.”

  The rats were definitely scrawny. Their black eyes appeared to bug out of their slender heads. Their gray fur was patchy, and open spots revealed yellow skin beneath.

  The rats had been scuttling toward us on all fours. But now they stopped and stood up on their scrawny hind legs. They formed a perfect straight line, at least a dozen, maybe more.

  Their mouths worked up and down, as if they were practicing eating us. Their tails swept from side to side on the floorboards behind them.

  “This is crazy!” Maggie cried. “You can’t do this!”

  “I probably can,” Goldie replied. “I don’t know any reason not to do it! Haha.”

  “You don’t have to do it,” I said. “We’ll be good servants. I promise.”

  “Yes. You don’t have to teach us a lesson,” Laci added. “We give up. We’ll do everything you say.”

  Goldie’s eyes moved from one of us to the next. “Do I believe you?” she said. “I don’t think so. Do I look like a dummy to you?”

  Standing on their hind legs, the rats began to chitter and whistle loudly. Some of them were drooling. Others snapped their jaws, their tiny, jagged teeth clicking.

  Chill after chill rolled down my back. I turned to Maggie
and Laci. They were both trembling, their mouths open in fright.

  “Please—” I started.

  Goldie took a few steps toward us. She shook her head. “Why are you so worried?” she said. “I’m not going to let them eat you. I’m only going to let them gnaw a bit.”

  She waved a hand, and the rats lowered themselves to all fours and came charging toward us for their meal.

  The hungry rats made shrill cries, almost like chirping birds. Their skinny feet skittered on the floor. They were so eager to get their meal, they slipped and tumbled as they ran to us.

  Laci screamed.

  Maggie grabbed my arm and squeezed it with an icy hand.

  Goldie laughed and watched from the wall.

  I shut my eyes and waited for the pain to start.

  But then I suddenly had an idea. A weird idea. A totally desperate idea.

  I jammed my hand into my pants pocket—and pulled out the sandwich I had packed for myself. My hands trembled as I fumbled to unwrap it.

  “Here!” I shouted in a terrified, shrill voice. “Here! Here’s a good treat for you!”

  I raised the sandwich in front of me. I held it up so that the rats could all see it.

  And then I tossed it. I tossed the sandwich at Goldie.

  The sandwich hit her in the chest with a dull thud. She grabbed for it with both hands.

  The rats squealed with excitement. They stopped short. Stood up. Wheeled around. And then went swooping over the floor toward the sandwich. A dozen squealing rats in a stampede of gray.

  The three of us stood watching. The rats leaped onto Goldie. They scratched their way up the front of her skirt, snapping and biting. They climbed over her head, into her curls of hair.

  “Stop it! Get away!” the dummy shrieked. “Get OFF me! Do you hear me? Get OFF!”

  Goldie struggled to throw the sandwich away. But she was too late. The rats swarmed over her, attacking it.

  Goldie fell to the floor on her back, and the starving rats covered her like a blanket.

  “Let’s go!” I screamed at Maggie and Laci.

  I didn’t have to say it twice.

  All three of us wheeled around and lurched side by side through the short entryway. Gasping for breath, I reached the front door first. I grabbed the door handle—and flung the door open.

  And all three of us screamed.

  Slappy stood there, grinning in at us.

  The dummy pushed us farther inside and stepped into the house.

  “I see Goldie has some new servants!” he rasped. “Why did it take three of you to open the door for me?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He strode across the entryway, making his way to Goldie. She was still on her back, battling the gnawing rats.

  “Goldie—I see you’ve made some new friends!” Slappy exclaimed. “Funny how rats always recognize their own kind!”

  “Shut up, Slappy!” Goldie screamed. She shoved the rats off her and raised both hands in the air. Then she shouted some strange words: “Molonu Denbar Faracuda!”

  The rats uttered a deafening squeal. Then they all rose up on their hind legs—all of them—and tumbled off Goldie. Tumbled onto their backs. And didn’t move.

  Goldie shook herself and pulled herself to her feet. The sandwich was gone. And the sleeves of her top were ragged and torn, with big holes chewed out of them. Her hair fell in tangled curls over her face. She struggled to pull the strands back.

  “You look like something the cat threw up,” Slappy told her.

  “That’s a compliment coming from a loser like you!” Goldie replied. She tugged at a sleeve and it ripped off. She tossed the sleeve to the floor. “What are you doing here, Slappy? Did you come to beg me not to shove you through the wood chipper?”

  She stepped over the rats and came closer to Slappy.

  Slappy giggled again. “I’m just paying a brotherly visit,” he said.

  “You’re not my brother!” Goldie snapped. “You know what you are? You’re something I might pull out from between my toes!”

  Slappy shook his head. “Tsk, tsk. Those rats put you in a bad mood. It’s a good thing they didn’t eat you. They’d get indigestion for sure.”

  “You turn my stomach.” Goldie scowled. “If I had a stomach. What do you want, Slappy?”

  “Well … I’m happy I finally found The Gold. Because I’ve come to learn from you. You know you are the SUN, Goldie. And I am just dust in a trash heap.”

  “Very colorful,” she sneered. “Why don’t you go write poetry?”

  “I AM your brother,” Slappy said. “We were made side by side by the same sorcerer. But he gave you powers, Goldie. Powers you could teach me.”

  She blinked at him. “Do you have the power to shut up?”

  The two dummies stood head-to-head, shouting insults at each other.

  I turned and gazed at the front door. It was wide open. No one had closed it after Slappy barged in.

  I held a finger up to my mouth, signaling for the girls to be as silent as possible. We turned and began to tiptoe to the door.

  We were just a few steps away from freedom when Goldie shouted, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I leaped to the doorway—and the door slammed shut in my face.

  “Hey—!” I uttered a startled shout. I turned to Slappy. “Will you let us out? Let us go home? You don’t need us here.”

  Slappy shook his head. “You are our servants. I can’t let you go.”

  “Huh?” Goldie cried. “Our servants? Are you losing it? They’re MY servants. You will be, too, before we’re finished here.”

  Maggie sighed. Laci hung her head.

  I had a sudden idea. “Slappy, what if we give you something you want?” I asked. “What if we give you something of yours that Goldie has taken?”

  He tilted his head, as if thinking hard about it. “Something of mine?”

  “Yes,” I said. “What if I gave it to you? Would you let us go?”

  He thought about it a while longer.

  “Yes,” he said finally. “Something of mine. Something she stole from me. Yes. Maybe I’d let you go.”

  Goldie didn’t see the diary. I saw it in a corner on the floor. I grabbed it before she could move. “Got it!” I cried.

  I turned and held it up to Slappy. “Your diary,” I said. “Here it is. The second diary. The one you hid here.”

  Slappy leaned forward to see it better.

  I raised it to his face. “This is it. We found it. Your diary.”

  He grabbed the diary out of my hand and studied it. Then he raised his eyes to me.

  “This isn’t mine,” he said. “I never started a second diary. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Billy. I never saw this thing before!”

  “You moron!” Goldie cried. “It’s my diary! Why do you think I wanted it so badly? Why would I want Slappy’s diary?” she demanded. “It’s garbage!”

  She made a grab for it. Slappy swung it out of her reach.

  “Give it to me!” Goldie shrieked. “It’s mine!”

  Slappy giggled and turned his back on her. He raised Goldie’s diary close to his face and quickly flipped through the pages.

  “What are you doing?” Goldie screamed. “Give that to me! Right now! I’m warning you, Slappy! Give it to me now!”

  She bumped him hard from behind. Slappy stumbled forward but kept scanning the diary.

  “There’s a trick of yours I always wanted to try,” he said. He stopped flipping through the pages. “And here it is.”

  “Slappy, how about a snack first?” Goldie said. “Bet you could go for a big pretzel.” She tapped his back three times and called out: “Haru Maroni Melekano Gorinus!”

  Slappy made a gurgling sound. He dropped to the floor. His arms and legs slid together and folded around each other. Goldie had twisted him into the shape of a pretzel.

  She tossed back her head and laughed. “Anybody got salt?” she cried.

  “Go ahead and la
ugh,” Slappy told her. His head was stuck between the tangle of his arms and legs. “I MEMORIZED the spell, Goldie. Say good-bye to everyone. I don’t need to read it. I can say it by heart now.”

  Goldie moved quickly toward Slappy. “But how can you say the spell, Slappy dear, if you don’t have a mouth?”

  Before Slappy could reply, she reached out—and ripped off his wooden chin and bottom lip. She raised the chunk of wood and tossed it across the room.

  Slappy had a wide hole where his mouth had been. His eyes rolled crazily in his head. And all he could utter in protest was, “AAAAAHHH. AAAAAAAHHH!”

  Goldie turned to us. “Now let’s see what kind of spell I can work on YOU.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I knew Goldie would never let us out of this house alive. Slappy was our only hope.

  Before Goldie could decide on a spell for us, I lurched across the room. I dove to the floor and grabbed Slappy’s chin and lip.

  Then I raised it above my head and shouted to Slappy. “If I put this back on you, will you let the three of us go? Will you?”

  Goldie rushed at me, her hands outstretched. “Give that to me!” she screamed.

  Maggie leaped in front of her and tripped her. Growling in fury, Goldie fell facedown on the floor.

  I dodged past her. Grabbed Slappy’s head. And shoved the chin and bottom lip back into place.

  Slappy tested his mouth, clicking his lips rapidly. Then he shouted the spell he had memorized: “Corrado Meloheeno Avay Avay Meloheeno!”

  Goldie’s eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open, and she uttered a squeak.

  “Wh-what’s happening?” I cried. I watched Goldie start to shrink.

  “Noooo. Help … !” Goldie moaned.

  It took only a few seconds. Goldie withered and sank to the floor, growing smaller and smaller. Her clothing appeared to fold into her body. Gray fur sprouted all over her.

  “She’s a rat!” I screamed.

  Slappy had turned her into a rat. Only the blond hair remained, tiny curls that crowned the rat’s head.

  Slappy laughed and stared down at her. “Her spell worked. That’s a good one! Goldie always had the best spells!” He bent over and shouted down to Goldie the rat: “You never looked better! Hahaha!”