Jillian pulled open the oaken door to a blast of cold air and a very familiar face. "Jimmy O'James, I presume?" she said politely, tilting her head back to meet the pair of dark eyes above her.
The dark-haired man blinked. "You're too young to know that quote."
Jillian shrugged. "My parents watch a lot of old movies," she replied.
"Fair enough," Jimmy chuckled and stepped through the door, lugging a huge leather case by its worn handle. As the ventriloquist beat off the dusting of snow from his big coat, humming under his breath, Jillian took a moment to give him a sweeping glance. She was used to seeing him onstage, but up close she saw he had dark circles under his eyes, as if he did not get much sleep, but he had a pleasant face. He was young, probably in college, with broad shoulders and short brown hair. As he pulled off his winter coat, Jillian saw he had on the same black turtleneck sweater and pants he always wore for his performances.
She shook her head. It was hard to believe that such a friendly-looking guy could tell such mean jokes at his audience's expense, though the twins seemed to enjoy it - which was why he was here, she reminded herself.
"Need help carrying that, Mr. O'James?" Jillian offered, pointing to the large case. She could already guess what was inside it.
A strange expression crossed the ventriloquist's young face - but then he gave her a smile. "Nah, I'm good. Slappy here doesn't like just anybody carrying him." He gave her a wink. "I throw him in here when he's been acting up - which is all the time."
Suddenly, there came a sharp rap from the direction of the case, causing Jillian to start. "I heard that, creepface!" came a muffled, raspy voice.
Jimmy gave the handle a shake - rough enough to cause its cargo to rattle and send the collection of snowflakes flying. "You promised you'd be good today," he warned, "or you'll be taking a long nap when we get home, dummy."
A soft grumble came from the trunk but then went silent.
Jillian guessed he was trying to amuse her, and she did not want to hurt his feelings, so she said, charitably, "You're really good at not moving your lips." It was the truth. Even if she did not get his humor, she did admire his skill.
"I try," he chuckled as he carefully checked the latch of the case. He then looked her up and down. "Are you one of the seven-year-old birthday girls?" he joked.
Jillian decided he had a nice smile and gave him one of her own. "Nah, I'm their sister," she explained. "I'm Jillian. My mom's in the kitchen if you want to see her."
He gave a smooth flourish with his spidery hand. "Lead on, Henry Stanley," he returned and followed her to the back of the house.
Mom was putting the 7-shaped candle on Amanda's cake (decorated with pink roses) as they came in, and she stood to shake Jimmy's hand. "Katie and Amanda have been looking forward to this all week," she said after they traded a few pleasantries. "Jillian is always taking them to your shows. She wants to be a performer too."
Jillian's mouth twitched, but she said nothing.
Jimmy cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be a pest, Mrs. Zinman, but is there a room where I can prepare? Preferably quiet?"
"Well, the party is going to be in the basement rec room," Mom explained. "You can use my husband's workshop right next to it. Just close the door and make sure none of the children mess with the sharp objects," she added, half-jokingly.
"I'll be sure that they're out of reach of little hands," Jimmy promised and cast a look at his leather case. "Every little hand."
"You know, Tabasco on a Pizza Bagel ain't half bad," Harrison commented as he helped himself to Jillian's abandoned plate.
"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full," replied Jillian.
They sat side by side on the carpeted staircase, sandwiched between the living room with the soft murmurs of the four lingering parents and the den with the wild gaggle of first graders. Jillian could hear Katie's squeaky voice, the loudest of them all, leading the ruckus while Amanda kept scolding her to be quiet because her group was trying to watch their Peanuts movie.
"So, what's the ventriloquist like?" Harrison asked around another spicy bagel.
Jillian shrugged. "He seems nice enough," she said. "Even if he did make that one kid cry a few months ago." She understood that insult humor was a popular form of comedy; still, when that little boy began to cry on stage, Jimmy O'James had started to shake his dummy hard, telling him to apologize - but he had kept making Slappy say horrible things to the child anyway.
Real hilarious.
"Some kids are more sensitive than others," remarked Harrison, who had missed that performance. "I guess you gotta know your audience for that kind of humor to work."
"That's true," she conceded, fingering her shoelaces. "The twins think he's the funniest thing ever, so whatever makes them happy on their birthday." Just along as Jimmy did not use Slappy to target them with bad jokes, she thought darkly. Amanda teared up whenever anyone teased her; Katie never cried, but she turned into a little bulldog when she got upset. Jillian could already see her stopping the birthday show to insist Jimmy apologize to both of them. That would be an interesting scene...
Meanwhile, Harrison gave her a grin. "Ventriloquism is pretty cool. You can come up with all kinds of insults, and it's just part of the act. I wish I had a dummy."
"You are a dummy," she said, causing him to laugh.
Harrison thought everything was cool. Way back in first grade she had tricked him into eating a bowl of mud, but instead of tattling, he had asked if she wanted to be his best friend. That had been five years ago, and he had never once tried to get her back for it. He was weird like that - but in a good way.
"He's toned down his act lately though, hasn't he?" Harrison commented. "Slappy didn't have the same attitude the last time I saw them."
She shrugged. "I guess. Jimmy also stopped calling kids up to the stage too. He and Slappy just trade insults now." Maybe enough parents had complained, she figured.
"I might put on a puppet show for my cousin's birthday," Harrison continued. "I wanna ask Jimmy O'James if he has any tips." He glanced at her. "It would be nice if I wasn't doing it alone."
Before Jillian could reply, Mom passed by then on her way to the living room, a tray of refreshments no doubt meant for the parents in her hands. "Sweetie, could you go downstairs and offer Mr. O'James something to drink? Tell him we have soda and water bottles."
Talking about timing.
"Duty calls," she told Harrison and got to her feet.
Jillian had barely gone halfway down the wooden stairs when she heard low voices. Though she could not make out the words, she could tell that there were two - and both sounded angry. She stopped, frowning. Was one of the parents down here with the ventriloquist already?
Then she remembered.
"He's just rehearsing," she told herself and kept going. Before she reached the bottom, she saw that the workshop door was open a crack.
"I mean it," said the voice that was obviously Jimmy's, "you're not going to ruin this party with your attitude - you know you can't do any evil this week, or it's lights out. Forever."
"Same song, second verse," came a raspy growl.
"We have bills to pay," Jimmy continued to scold. "And the radiator needs to be fixed - unless you like sleeping in sub-zero temperatures. And your little suits don't come free, buddy."
"There's such a thing as a five-finger discount," the raspy voice returned.
Jimmy uttered a scoff. "You're impossible."
Jillian crept forward across the rec room. She had witnessed many of Jimmy's performances, so she knew he liked to have his puppet throw increasingly ugly insults at him over the course of a show - but this did not sound like his normal comedy act. If anything, Jimmy sounded even more frustrated. She peeked through the crack, and she spotted the two by the worktable. Jimmy's back was to her, but she could see he had one hand on the arm of the dummy - Slappy.
The wooden figure stared with a cocky grin at his ventriloquist, his dark brow furrowed over large, blue eyes, giving him an intense gaze. He had a wave of wooden hair, painted brown, and a wide, red smile that gave him strange, prominent cheekbones dotted with freckles. He wore a red-and-white sport jacket and had a matching bowtie on a white shirt. Though he was dressed like an adult, Jillian thought he looked more like a child next to his tall, broad-shouldered partner.
Jimmy leaned down. "Look, you've been doing your good deeds each week - "
"Under protest."
" - And I've given you a lot of leg room," Jimmy continued as if uninterrupted. "I could have been a bean counter and called you out on that thing you did to the neighbor's new rocking chair, and you would've been firewood right then and there. But I didn't. I showed you mercy. Because I know you can be a good dummy, even if it's only to save your own skin. You have free will. You can choose to do what's right, Pinocchio."
"Yes, but I choose to do what's fun," Slappy said defiantly.
Jimmy leaned down, shaking a finger at the carved countenance. "Listen, you got one more deed to do before this week is up. Believe it or not, I don't want this to be the end. I want you to learn to be good."
"And I want to rule the world with a green-eyed dish by my side. Get used to disappointments, geek."
What a weird act, Jillian thought. Should she interrupt and still offer him a soda? Or should she wait until he was done rehearsing? Given the anger in both voices, she was not sure if she wanted to knock - though it was just an act, she told herself. A pretty convincing act, but an act nonetheless.
She started to step away when Slappy began to speak again - and his raspy voice took on such a sweet, little-boyish tone that Jillian was struck by the contrast and looked again at the rehearsal.
"Jimmy, could I do bad things if it was in self-defense?" the dummy asked. "Would the curse allow me to, say, throw rocks at a wood-eating monster? Or stop a wicked witch about to kill a puppy?"
Jillian saw Jimmy hesitate; he was still hunched over, his eyes level with the puppet's. "Well, it wouldn't be evil if it was self-defense," he said slowly. "As long as it wasn't an outright war crime, I wouldn't think it was wrong."
"So, if someone were threatening my life, it wouldn't be evil?" Slappy asked, giving him an innocent smile.
"I guess not."
"Why don't we get into the spirit of the holidays?" Slappy asked pleasantly - and suddenly he swung his wooden arm. "Season's beatings, dork!" His little fist connected with the ventriloquist face - and Jimmy staggered back with a cry, clutching his nose.
Jillian could only gasp.
The young man uttered a growl. "That is the last str - " but he did not get beyond that. He froze in place, his dark eyes falling upon the doorway.
And Jillian.
She quickly recovered and pushed the door open. "Are you alright?" she gasped.
The dummy's large eyes bulged as she burst in - and for a fraction of a second, he seemed to lean forward, staring at her, his jaw slowly lowering...
...Then Jimmy released him, and Slappy slumped back against the wall, his head making a clonk sound.
Jimmy stepped between her and the puppet. "Oh, didn't see you there," the ventriloquist laughed nasally, pinching his nose with the sleeve of his black sweater. "You need something?"
"You're bleeding!" she cried. Her eyes shot around him to the dummy, who continued to look blankly at her, his face frozen in that strange smile. "He hit you!"
Jimmy blinked, looking at her as if she had just spoken Klingon to him. "What? ...No, no, that's part of the act I was trying out. I swung his hand too hard and decked myself. Call me a klutz," he chuckled. He gave the dummy a push with his free hand, and the little body fell to its side - but the blue eyes seemed to remain on Jillian.
But that was silly. Jillian looked away, feeling foolish - and tried to ignore the sudden chill. "I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly. "I meant it looked like he hit you. You're really good, Mr. O'James."
"Thanks." Jimmy cleared his throat. "Do you need something, Janet - uh, Jillian?"
"What?" She shook herself, remembering why she was down here. "Mom told me to ask if you wanted a drink," she explained. She glanced again at the ventriloquist's concealed nose. "Uh, do you need me to bring you down the First-Aid kit?"
The young man sniffed a little. "Yeah, I think that would be wise."
Slappy was sitting up again by the time Jillian returned, and she tried not to look at him as she handed the kit to the ventriloquist. She had never cared for dolls even when she was little - it was weird to see those blank, staring expressions on not-quite-human faces - but something about this dummy's gaze was creepier than normal. Even though she knew that was completely silly.
Jimmy had pulled Dad's wooden bench next to the worktable, and he now sat near the puppet as he applied a Q-tip dotted with disinfectant to his nostril and accepted the box of tissues Jillian had retrieved for him.
She gave him a sympathetic look. "That little guy can really do damage, huh?"
Jimmy did not reply right away. "Yeah. He can."
Silence fell between them, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock by the closet - and Jillian could still feel lifeless eyes on her. She fidgeted with the sleeve of her green hoodie, turning her back to the puppet. She glanced around the well-lit workshop at the shelves full of tools and paint cans as if that would help her find a good conversation topic, and she wondered how Jimmy must have felt when he walked in and saw the working table saw in the middle of the room (even if it did have a safety cover on the blade). Dad loved carpentry: he used to work with his uncle at a sawmill when he was a teenager. He had made quite a lot of things ever since he built his workshop five years before, though he could be a perfectionist. It took him six months to finish the coffee table up in the living room because he kept taking it apart - though she doubted Jimmy would want to hear about that.
"You know," she said at last, "my sisters are really looking forward to today. They've gone to a lot of your shows at the Little Theater, and they always come home wishing they got called up onstage to meet Slappy."
Jimmy gave an apologetic smile. "There are a lot of kids at my shows." His voice sounded stuffy. "I can only pick so many."
"That's what I told them," Jillian nodded. She tried to keep her face polite. "They like it when Slappy is rude."
"People usually do," Jimmy replied - and to her surprise, he sounded a little… rueful? "It pays the bills though," he said with resignation. "The jokes I like are way too goofy, even for children's theater."
Considering his act could consist of the dummy comparing the ventriloquist to a worthless penny, Jillian did not think his humor could get much worse. She gave him a sympathetic smile as she leaned against the worktable. "Tell me one."
He hesitated. "Knock, knock."
"Who's there?" she replied.
"Dishes."
"Dishes who?"
"Dishes a very bad joke," Jimmy said with a wry chuckle.
"She doesn't want to hear that, moron," came a raspy voice behind her, causing her to start. "Who taught you how to entertain a lady?"
Jimmy shot the dummy a dirty look. "Shut your face," he ordered.
Jillian shook herself - it was just pretend, she chided the butterflies in her stomach - and gave the ventriloquist a small grin. "What do you call a boy who finally stands up to bullies?"
The young man's dark eyes flicked to her. "What?"
"An ambulance."
That made Jimmy smile - that nice smile. For some odd reason, that made her heartbeat increase. She suddenly wanted to tell him another joke.
"What do you get from a pampered cow?" Jimmy did not know. "Spoiled milk."
The friendly grin stretched.
- And it was then that a raspy voice growled, "Why are you wasting your breath on him, sweet eyes?"
She whirled around, facing the dummy. ...Did he look annoyed? No, no. That was just his weird expression. "You're pretty good, Mr. O'James," she complimented, trying to conceal her shiver.
"You're talking to the wrong dummy, darlin'," the motionless puppet cracked. Even without his jaw moving, Jillian could almost believe the voice was really coming from him - she had to admire the ventriloquist for that. "Why don't you tell me a joke?" Slappy demanded.
Uh… She cleared her throat. "Knock, knock."
"Come in," Slappy replied sweetly.
Jillian had to laugh at that one. "See? You have a good sense of humor, Mr. O'James!" Maybe he just needed some positive encouragement.
Jimmy opened his mouth - but Slappy cut him off. "Wanna hear a riddle?" he asked her. Before she could respond, he pressed on, "Stop me if you heard this one. What's the best-looking thing in this room?"
"What?" she asked.
"Not Jimmy!" the dummy shrieked, and a high-pitched giggle came from the body.
"You're hilarious," Jimmy said tightly, giving the wooden shoulder a rough shove. "Leave the kid alone now - or you're going back in the case until the show starts."
"You're just jealous because you wouldn't know a good joke if it dropped a building on you, soft head," Slappy shot back.
Jillian smiled at the ventriloquist. "It's pretty neat how you can throw your voice and laugh without moving your lips," she said with sincerity. "My best friend, Harrison, wants to learn ventriloquism so that he can prank people."
"Why else does anyone want to learn ventriloquism?" Jimmy replied, adjusting the tissue. "I used to fool my little sister that way."
She nodded and glanced again at Slappy; in the right light, he did not look too bad - still a little creepy, but sorta cute. In an ugly, weird way. "It kinda reminds me of Pinocchio - we had to read the book for school last year," she explained, studying the little checked bowtie. "At the beginning Pinocchio was just a block of wood, but he could speak, and he scared the carpenter that found him. Then Geppetto came over, and Pinocchio started insulting him." She smiled a little at the memory. "It was a funny scene. Geppetto thought the carpenter was doing it, so they started fighting. Nobody believed the block of wood was really alive - until after he was a puppet and wrecked everything. Geppetto even had to go to prison because of him."
She glanced at the ventriloquist - and saw a strange expression on his face. At her look, he quickly gave a friendly smile. "That's... very interesting." Jimmy cleared his throat. "So, your mother mentioned that you want to be an actress?"
Her throat tightened. She shrugged, keeping a straight face. "I used to. Don't anymore."
"Oh," he nodded. "Any reason for that?"
She looked away. "I'm just better at decorating." She jerked a thumb toward the door. "I did the rec room."
"Was that you?" Jimmy said with admiration. "I thought the birthday hat on Santa was funny."
"It 'sleighed' him," Slappy threw in.
"Thanks," she mumbled. She glanced at Jimmy again to see a small smile peeking around his tissue. No trace of irony. No comparing her work to dog vomit. He looked like he meant it - and he really did have kind eyes, she thought. She could not help noticing they were the same shade of brown as a Hershey Kiss.
"Performing isn't for everyone," Jimmy said with a small shrug. "We all got our talents - and some people are better at decorating. There's a need for those folks in the world."
She winced and looked down at Slappy's shiny black shoe. "I would like to perform," she said softly. "I even had my own clown act. It's just... whenever I do - " The words caught in her throat, and she swallowed.
The ventriloquist gave her a sympathetic look - genuine sympathy, it seemed. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Jillian. Performing takes practice. Nobody's perfect the first time."
"Except me," Slappy rasped.
But that's not my problem. She hesitated - and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Do you believe in bad luck, Mr. O'James?"
The young man glanced at his dummy. "I believe in a lot of things, Jillian. Bad luck is the least of them." His grin returned. "I guess it comes from working in a theater. We're a very superstitious bunch," he laughed - he had a pleasant laugh.
That made her feel a little better. She fingered the edge of the worktable and sucked in a deep breath. "Something bad always happens whenever I do a party," she confessed.
He tilted his head. "Like what?"
She grimaced. "I... once did a clown act for a girl named Joslyn," she said. "My friend, Harrison, and I brought a bunch of magic tricks to entertain the kids, like these trick playing cards that squirted water and this pie pan that sprayed whip cream."
He nodded. "I've seen those things at The Magic Place."
"That's where we got them," she explained. "But we goofed the card trick because we forgot to put the water inside, so we moved on to our pie trick." She looked down at her hands. "That was a disaster," she said softly.
"What happened?" Jimmy asked - in that kind tone.
Her mouth twitched. "We got two kids to come up and sniff the pie. We were planning to squirt ourselves, not them, but Harrison squeezed the pump too soon, and it sprayed into their eyes."
"Ooh," Jimmy groaned. The bench creaked as he leaned forward. "Well, you can't blame yourself for that, Jillian. Accidents happen."
Jillian raised her eyes to meet his. "But it wasn't whip cream," she whispered. "The kids began screaming and screaming and screaming - and when we went to check it..." She swallowed dryly. "...There was soap in the pie."
Jimmy blinked. "Wow."
"That was only the start," she continued with a wince. "The week after that was Eddie Simkin's party. We had it down here in our basement since his house got flooded. Everything went well until we got to the piñata. Eddie got up on his second turn, and he swung the bat hard enough to break a hole - and cockroaches came out with the candy."
"Wow," Jimmy repeated.
Jillian exhaled. "And it gets worse." Her throat tightened. "On Halloween, one of our neighbors hired us and also asked Mom to bake chocolate cupcakes. I was with Mom when she mixed the batter. But then Alice, the birthday girl, took one bite of her cupcake, and there were peanuts inside it."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Jimmy said.
Jillian met his dark gaze. "Alice has a severe nut allergy."
"Oh."
Jillian thought she heard a snicker. She glared at the ventriloquist. "It's not funny," she snapped.
"I know it's not," Jimmy said, elbowing his dummy as he shifted on the bench. "My nose is just stuffed up," he explained, and he sniffed for emphasis. "Was Alice okay?"
"She lived - if that's what you mean," she exhaled. "Her parents still want to sue, and my folks are still trying to make it up to them." She pressed her lips together. "I thought at first, maybe, my little sisters might have done it - but they had already gone out with Dad to go trick-or-treating. It was just Mom and me in the house."
The girls always had an alibi, Jillian thought glumly. On the day of Josyln's party, Mom had dropped them off to play with their friend, Stevie, an hour before Jillian had filled the pie. On the day of Eddie's party, they had spent the day at the park with the kids down the street and had come home a little late. They had not left the basement at all once they got there, so there was no window for them to sabotage the piñata.
"So, I don't do parties anymore - I just decorate for them instead," she finished. "My parents didn't do any of those mean tricks. I sure as anything didn't do it, so… who did? Or what did?" She looked at her clenched hands. "Better safe than sorry."
"It's quite the mystery," Jimmy agreed. He shifted, and Jillian saw his eyes flick toward his dummy. "Sometimes," he said after a long moment, "things happen with no natural explanation. So, why not supernatural?"
Jillian shuddered. "You think so?"
Jimmy nodded, turning back to her. "Sherlock Holmes said in one of his stories, 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.'"
She bit her lip. "That might be even worse," she said quietly.
"Indubitably." He lowered his tissue, frowning at the soiled material. "Um, Jillian, I don't mean to interrupt, but my nose is still bleeding. I may need to see a doctor."
"Okay, kids, everyone into the basement!" Mom's voice rang from the top of the steps then.
"Time for the show!" Jillian heard Katie's squeaky voice chant over the stampede of little feet, and Amanda followed suit. "Time for the show! Time for the show!"
"Oh, great," Jillian murmured as Jimmy got to his feet. She followed him into the next room just as Mom and the other parents reached the bottom.
Mom gasped when she saw Jimmy. "Are you alright, Mr. O'James?!"
"I don't know," he admitted, lowering his very red tissue.
Mom turned to Jillian then. "Jillian, can you and Harrison help supervise the kids while I help Mr. O'James?"
"Sure, Mom."
The four parents went over to the kids then to scold their own children for being rowdy, and Harrison stepped over to her. "Now, what?"
"I don't know," she admitted. She spotted Katie and Amanda, who easily towered above the other girls and even some of the boys. They were both bouncing on the balls of their feet, excitedly talking to their friend, Stevie Shapiro. Each girl held the hand of Mary-Ellen.
"Poor kids," Harrison sighed.
"Maybe we can tell knock-knock jokes to entertain them," Jillian murmured.
"Or you can sing 'A Rig-a-Bamboo'," Harrison returned.
Just then one of the speeding seven-year-old girls tripped and let out a shriek of pain. Harrison quickly went over to assist the little kid and helped her limp over to the couch while one of the mothers came over to inspect the injury.
Jillian glanced again at her sisters. Both of pairs of blue eyes were gleaming like stars as the girls hopped around, seeming to forget they were surrounded by Christmas decorations with crummy birthday decorations atop them in an attempt to make it look like a proper party. Jillian sighed inwardly before she crossed the room and grabbed both girls by the wrist, pulling the duo and their doll over to the side. "Guys, guys, calm down," Jillian ordered.
"It's time for the show!" Katie grinned. "Time to see Slappy!"
"Mary-Ellen's been waiting forever for it," Amanda announced, pointing to her toy.
And she'll be waiting a lot longer, Jillian thought, and she quickly told the girls what happened - leaving out the bit where Jimmy had swung Slappy's hand into his own nose.
The sparkles in both pairs of eyes died simultaneously.
"This stinks!" Katie cried, her squeaky voice breaking.
"Hey, we can still have fun," Jillian encouraged. "We still got games to play - and two cakes, remember?"
"B-But we waited and waited to see Slappy!" Amanda wailed. Her blue eyes were beginning to tear up. "Mary-Ellen wanted to meet him!"
"Hey, don't cry," Jillian said quickly, patting her arm. She glanced at the door of the workshop - and mentally kicked herself for thinking that thought. Bad idea, Jillian. Jimmy would not like anyone messing with Slappy while he was gone. Besides, the girls did not want to see a lifeless dummy. The fun of puppets came from the puppeteers.
...But it was their birthday.
She nudged her head toward the door. "C'mon - but be quiet," she warned.
Jillian ushered Katie and Amanda into the workshop, doll in tow - and both girls stopped, uttering gasps.
"Slappy!" Amanda cried happily.
"Keep quiet," Jillian cautioned as she shut the door, muffling the excited shrieks of the party guests.
The dummy stared back at the twins, his grin frozen in place. Katie and Amanda crept forward, and for a moment Jillian thought they looked shy.
"Mary-Ellen likes his bowtie," Amanda murmured as she held the doll up.
Katie leaned forward but did not reach out for the puppet like she would have normally done. "How does he work?"
"Harrison told me once," Jillian replied, glad for her friend's hobby. "There's a string inside, and you pull on that to make his mouth move."
Katie's little eyes flicked to her older sister. "Can you make him talk?"
For a moment the painted eyes seemed to flash with excitement - but when she looked again, they were glassy once more. Like they always were, she told herself. "He doesn't belong to me," she said, turning to her sisters. "We look with our eyes, not our hands."
"Real quick - we won't tell anyone!" Amanda pleaded, adjusting her grip on Mary-Ellen, and the two began to beg in unison, "Please? Please? Please?"
Jillian opened her mouth to say no, but they looked so earnest that she felt herself caving in despite the warning in her gut. "Only if it's quick - then we're outta here, got it?" The girls nodded eagerly. She started to reach for the dummy - and stopped.
His large eyes were still watching her - almost as if they were really looking at her, waiting for her next move.
She suppressed a shudder. "Do you mind, Slappy?" she asked - and, realizing how that sounded, she added in a joking voice, "If it's okay, don't say anything."
His grin seemed to widened, but that was just a trick of the light, she told herself as she gingerly pulled the dummy closer. She slipped her hand through the hole in his back, and she felt a small shiver pass through the dummy - no, no, she just jiggled him too hard. Her fingers soon discovered the string to move his wooden jaw. She tugged it a few times, experimenting. She felt the shiver again - so she quickly adjusted her grip on his shoulder to keep him from shaking.
"Thanks for coming to the party," she told the puppet. "Can you wish Katie and Amanda a happy birthday, Slappy?"
"A happy birthday, Slappy," she had him return, and she tried to imitate the hoarse voice Jimmy O'James gave him.
"Boo!" Katie stuck out her tongue.
"I liked it!" Amanda insisted.
Jillian fought to keep her smile and patted the dummy's brown head with her free hand. "Now, Katie, I think Slappy's funny," she smiled. "Funny looking."
"And I think you're pretty, Jillian," Slappy replied sweetly as she tried to make his mouth move with each syllable. "Pretty stupid."
That was one of Slappy's trademark digs, but it still made Katie and Amanda giggle like they were hearing it for the first time.
"Figures you laugh when I'm insulted," Jillian said, pretending to be offended as she planted her free hand on her hip. She must have jostled the dummy with that movement though. Slappy's head rolled back, resting against her shoulder. She heard a soft sound, almost like a sigh - but that was probably just the wind, which was starting to pick up just outside the little snow-covered window above her head. Jillian quickly straightened the dummy. "Your head gonna fall off there, buddy?" she demanded.
"Your jokes are making me snore!" she had him reply.
"More! More!" Katie chanted, bouncing on her heels.
"Why couldn't you guys be like this when you watched my clown act?" Jillian returned with a mock whine. She remembered then that Jimmy O'James usually ended his act with a song, switching between his normal voice and Slappy's, so she turned to the dummy and said, "I like your suit, Slappy. You look like you belong in a barbershop quartet."
She made Slappy move his head as if scanning the room. "Well, I see three other dummies around here. Let's get a bucket."
"Why?" she asked, pretending to be surprised.
"So you can carry a tune!"
She shook a stern finger at his grinning face. "Wait until you hear me sing before you criticize," she chided the puppet. "If you're so good, why don't you do it?"
"Watch the master," he replied, and she made him clear his throat, shaking his thin shoulders. "Today is a birthday. I wonder for whom. It might be for someone right here in this room. Sooo, look all around you for somebody who is smiling and laughing. My goodness it's y - "
Jillian abruptly stopped, coughing. "Man, that's straining!" she choked.
Still, the girls giggled - and that made it worth it.
Jillian cleared her throat and tried the little-boy voice Jimmy sometimes used for his dummy, which proved much easier, and continued with the song. "Happy birthday, Katie-and-Amanda," she sang, saying their names in a rush that made the girls' grins stretch, "from all of us to you. Happy birthday, Katie-and-Amanda. May all of your wishes come true - "
It was then she heard a creak. She jumped and looked toward the door - and saw Jimmy O'James watching her.
Jillian started forward, nearly losing her grip on Slappy, and quickly handed the dummy back to him. "Sorry, I just - "
Jimmy gave a weak laugh, putting his hand inside the puppet's back as his other arm supported the skinny legs. "No problem," he said, his voice still a little nasal.
Slappy raised his head. "No problem at all, sweet eyes," he rasped, his own blue eyes meeting hers. He gave her a wink.
Jillian felt her face heat.
Jimmy cleared his throat. "Uh, Slappy, what did you think of Jillian's singing just then?"
The dummy gave a snort. "That was singing?" he asked. "Wow, here I thought we were trying to contact the mother ship!"
The twins burst out laughing at that, and Jillian found herself chuckling a little too.
"I kid though. She's a real sweetheart," the dummy said, turning his head toward Jillian. He leaned forward - and, strangely, his wooden eyes seemed to grow interested. "I know we've just met, but I'm inspired to say three little words just to you, sweet eyes."
Jillian blinked. "What?"
Jimmy stiffened. "What."
Slappy ignored him. His raspy voice took on a syrupy tone as his intense eyes seemed to soften. "Jillian Zinman, I just want to say… get a manicure!" he shrieked.
Jillian winced at the shrill voice and gave another laugh. "Good one, Slappy," she said, playing along.
The dummy bowed with a cocky smile. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night."
"Unfortunately," Jimmy said, shooting the dummy a look. "Time for the show. C'mon, birthday girls."
He led them into the rec room and took his seat upon a tall stool. It took a few minutes for the parents to settle the party guests into rows, but finally the room was quiet enough for Jimmy to begin. Katie and Amanda plopped themselves right in front of him, Mary-Ellen between them.
"So, Slappy, how do you like this snow we've been having?" the ventriloquist asked.
"I like it yellow - and in your coffee," Slappy replied, and that made the little kids erupt into mischievous giggles.
"Now, now, be a gentleman, Slappy," Jimmy scolded. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"
"Did your mother teach you how to be stupid?" he shot back.
Thus the act continued. Jillian and Harrison hung at the back with the parents as Jimmy and Slappy traded insults. Every so often, she noticed the dummy's large eyes would flick to the side and meet hers - but that was silly, she chided herself. Jimmy was just randomly working his controls and probably meant for Slappy to be looking at the seated children instead. He just had bad aim.
By the end of the act, Jillian noticed that Jimmy had not tried to make Slappy smack him again.
A/N: While I try to avoid copying dialogue ad naseum from the canon (except where necessary), I have to say that the "three little words" joke from RotLD was too good to pass up. (At least I didn't quote it verbatim.)
Thanks for reading! Advice is appreciated.