"I do not have slaves. No, no. I have partners. And one partner will be my best friend forever! Just like the last time."

My legs had given way. I fell on my back and grunted. I heard Dad, but I was unsure what. But I could hear the dummy clearly. I hung onto every word. The room was spinning. It took me forever to sit up. I had a headache and felt like passing out. I put my hands on the floor to steady myself and blinked until my vision cleared. Dad was kneeling next to me with a hand to my back. Now I could see and hear him.

"Clay? Say something. Are you okay? Clay."

My stomach was quickly going up and down. "Y-yeah." I struggled to stand. "I-I am okay...I think."

He helped me. "Are you freaked out that your puppet - I mean, Mr. BadDummy - talked?"

I stared at Mr. BadDummy. He had stopped chatting. I slowly nodded. "Yeah."

Dad led me to my bed and forced me to sit. He scooped up the dummy and lifted the back of his suit. "Hmm..." He fidgeted with the controls. "...aha!"

I was rubbing my temples. "What, Dad? What is it?"

"Your little fella has a small chip deep in his back. I am surprised that I was able to dig it out."

I scrunched up my face. "Why is a potato chip in him?"

He laughed. "You definitely will be one of the funniest, if not the funniest, ventriloquists in the world."

"Thanks, Dad, but...what did I say that was funny?"

He snickered. "Make Mr. BadDummy the dumb one in your acts, not you."

"I am serious, Dad. What is a potato chip doing lodged in his back?"

His huge smile faded. "It is not a potato chip, Clay. It is a microchip. Microchips have commands in them used in computers and other electronics."

"I know what a microchip is."

"Yet you assumed that it was a potato chip."

My cheeks were burning. "You are the person who said chip instead of microchip."

"I thought that you would know."

"I do not know everything. I am not a genius."

Dad took a tiny item out of Mr. BadDummy's back and showed it to me. I had to bring my face close to it. Yep. It was indeed a microchip. It was red with bright green lines going across it. Like the jagged lines in tech.

Dad pulled down Mr. BadDummy's suit and smoothed out the wrinkles. He handed him to me and shoved the microchip in the pocket of his pants. "I am going to put the microchip in my desk. Okay, Clay?"

"Okay."

"I will be right back."

I had my arms around my dummy and slid off my bed. "Where are you going?"

"I am going to check if a controller is in the chest. I will bring the chest to your room too so you will have a safe place for Mr. BadDummy."

"Dad, that chest is heavy, even for you. I will leave him at the end of my bed. I do not want you to break a bone or strain yourself."

He ruffled my hair. "I will be careful. If I cannot get the chest upstairs, I will not push myself."

I straightened out my hair. "You had better not."

"You do not want the chest here?"

"I do not want you to push yourself."

Dad hurried out, leaving me all alone with the dummy. The lifeless dummy whom I was frightened of when he spoke. Or whoever spoke through him.

Who controlled him?

I spun him around and held him by his flimsy arms. "It is just you and me once again, partner. But not for long because my dad will...maybe...return with your chest. I will not keep you in there all the time, though. You can chill on my bed - as long as you do not talk by yourself. Do we understand?"

I put two fingers on the back of his head and made him nod.

"Good. I will show you to my best friend. I will call him after Dad brings your chest. His name is Cade."

I let out a small gasp when I saw his glassy eyes change to red. Bright red. I dropped him and dashed out of my room and to the top of the stairs. I hollered to Dad and told him to come back. I desperately wanted him to see what I witnessed so he did not believe that I was losing it. I did not imagine it. My puppet's eyes indeed turned red. How? Was it a special feature?

Dad appeared and was holding the chest by its handles on either side. He did not seem to be having a problem because he was walking normally without struggling. It was as if he were not even carrying the chest. Show-off.

"Need help?"

He carefully climbed up the steps. "None. If I have any help, I will drop the chest on my foot. I soooooo do not want that."

"Me neither."

Why was I calling him? What did I want him to see?

I pointed frantically to my room. "You must come back to my room. Now. Set the chest down and come see my dummy."

"Just a minute."

"Not just a minute. Now."

It angers me when my parents say just a minute. When someone tells you to do something now, you do it now! Unless that they are sketchy.

Dad finally reached the top and continued carrying the wooden chest down the hall.

I followed him. "Put down the chest."

"I am almost to your room. I will put it down then."

"But you need to see the puppet's eyes before they turn back to normal."

"What about his eyes? Why are they abnormal? Do not tell me that you are scared of him."

We entered my room. My dummy was gone.