Chatterbox: Inkwell

CL Story Thread: Part 2!

See this thread? http://www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox/inkwell/node/115334

Well despite my hopes, only BHR and I wrote anything on it. So... continuing. I hope it's more popular this time around.

When I got home, the old women's dolls were on my porch. I froze. I half-expected them to come to life. I began to wonder why she had left them there. Was it some sort of warning, her way of saying, "You can't hide forever"?

Why on Earth was she following me anyway? What in particular did she want from me? If one kid escapes from her, doesn't it make more sense for her to just find another victim instead of pursuing the one who lived to tell the tale?

"Oh, dearie..." a voice said behind me. "AAGH!" I yelled. I grabbed a pillow from the porch swing and whapped the old woman hard. "You'll never get me!" I screamed valiantly, and then I leaped off the porch and ran. "Mason?" called the woman, confused. "What is the meaning of this?"

I stopped. Then I turned and took a good look. It was an old woman, sure, but not the old woman. It was just our neighbor, Mrs. Jehr. She had been widowed some many years ago when her husband, Mr. Jehr, died of cancer. "Oh, pardon me, Mrs. Jehr!" I said. "I'm so sorry, I was kind of lost in thought... silly me..." I walked back up onto the porch.

"Did you make these dolls?" she asked. "They're so beautiful." She picked them up. "May I have them?" I looked at the dolls. I could have sworn the one which used to be Sophia looked a little flattered.

"Uh... yes... NO!" I said suddenly.

"No?"

"Yes! No! Definitely no! These dolls were made by... uh... a, HOBO!"

Mrs. Jehr looked perplexed. I continued rattling on, talking even faster than I had since two months ago when I was stressed that my mom was going to find out I ate my sister Jemima's birthday cake. If those dolls carried some sort of weird witch curse, I didn't want Mrs. Jehr catching it.

"Yes, a hobo made them, and while he's kinda a nice guy, he's a really dirty guy! He sleeps in the sewer... lotsa rats down there! And he could have picked up a LOT of gross infections, sicknesses which may cause your untimely death, Mrs. Jehr, if you keep those dolls, and we do not ever want that to happen!"

I snatched away the dolls and tossed them into the garden.

"Oh, well, if they're carrying diseases, I suppose keeping them would indeed not be wise," said Mrs. Jehr. 

Then my mom opened the door. "Mason, why have I recieved..." she began sternly, but then she saw our neighbor. "Why, hello, Mrs. Jehr! Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked pleasantly.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure," replied Mrs. Jehr, and we entered the house.

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Now someone else may continue the story!