Meanwhile, inside the house, Officer Kurt took stock of the situation. He had watched his partner change in front of him, becoming a ballerina doll that wanted nothing more than to dance. And here, in the center of the room where she danced, he found a box of strange, sparkling powder.
He knew then that his fate was sealed. The powder had changed Danielle, and the two boys before. One was now a wind-up soldier, and the other a raggedy doll with stitched body and patch cloth.
As Danielle spun around him, Kurt stopped to admire her. Her legs were perfect white, her pink leotard pulled tight over her plastic body. Her smile was so wide, so bright, that Kurt gave in to it. He stood up and stood in front of her. She stopped and looked up at him, her glossy eyes looking at him with hope.
Kurt threw his gun to the floor and took the ballerina doll into his arms and kissed her deeply. Already the changes were happening to make him into some toy. And he no longer cared, as long as he could be with her.
As Mary Stevens took the giant teddy bear's paw, she thought she felt something . . . extra in it. Something she had never felt before. As it happened, Mary had a gift to sense things. It was hard to describe to someone with the gift. But it was like she was able to see the truth in things. And as she touched the bear's paw, she saw the truth in him.
She saw that he was a teenage boy trapped in a body that was not his. She saw his mind was dulled and happy. That he would not, in a million years, as a toy or a person, hurt her daughter. And while Mary knew all this, she didn't know how to fix it . . . yet.
"C'mon, Chris," she said. The bear was surprised that she knew his name, but he complied. He was, after all, a toy, and she was a person. Little Molly jumped up and down in delight, and raced to her front door.
Mary and Christopher Bear followed behind, and together they all went inside. For Molly, it was time to play with her new toy. For Mary, it was time to find out how to reverse the changes that had overtaken Chris. Fortunately, she knew just who to call . . .
