Suddenly, I heard screams. I ran towards the screams and saw the boys running away. I found Zeppo lying on the ground, unharmed.
“What had scared them?” I said to myself.
As I picked Zeppo up, he felt warm. He no longer felt like a plastic dummy. His porcelain eyes stared right at me as his rickety jaw slowly opened due to the wind. The suit I had dressed him in looked brushed up, as if somebody just cleaned it. I noticed a crack on the side of his head, a crack that must have happened due to him being dropped on the ground. Soon, the clouds above raced away to expose the moon. Its light allowed me to see my own reflection in his eyes. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of Zeppo. To me, he was no longer an idol of humor and joy. He was symbol of macabre and fear. His smile no longer reminded me of a happy child, but of that of Hannibal Lector. His smile conveyed to me an idea that he was happy about what he had done.
Then again, what am I saying? He’s a dummy, he couldn’t have scared those children on purpose. Their imaginative minds conjured up a trick in their head that led them to believe that Zeppo was alive. This caused them to become paranoid and run in fear of the inanimate dummy initiating vengeance on them for wanting to break him. Nevertheless, he still creeped me out, and always remembered to put him in his case.
Back to me carrying Zeppo home in his case. When I got home I put Zeppo in the living room closet. I turned on the news only to hear even more frightening news. The broadcaster said there was a string of robberies in the neighborhood and even an attempted assault.
“Great, that’s the news I want to hear,” I said sarcastically. “Especially since I have no insurance.”
iIllustration by MADDIE WARREN