"I knew you would be calling, Mary Stevens," Madame Rouchard said into the phone. It was a common greeting for her; a little psychic trick to get people interested in her services. Of course, she couldn't really tell the future. That would be ridiculous. But there were many things in the world that were hidden from the mundane world, just off the horizon of the normal. If someone were adventurous enough, they could sail into these uncharted and magical waters. And then eeke out a living palm reading, gazing into crystal balls, and speaking to the dead.
On the other end of the line, Mary Stevens was unfazed by Madame Rouchard's greeting. She had heard it a few times.
"Hey, Cam. I, uh, just came across something weird. It's beyond me, but I was hoping you might be able to help me out."
"Then speak, my child. Tell Madam Rouchard your tale." The woman unfurled in her ornate red chair, thick bracelets bangling on her wrists.
Mary sighed and Rouchard smiled. "Could you drop the act for a minute? I found this . . . giant teddy bear."
"How wonderful for Molly."
There was a little laugh on the line, "Yeah, she loves him. But the thing is, this bear moves. He can talk. And, Cam, when I touched his paw, I felt . . . I don't know. but I think I felt that someone is trapped in there."
Madame Rouchard narrowed her eyes to dangerously small slits. Mary was right to come to her. "You touched him?"
"Yeah."
The psychic stood up and began to pace in her cramped demense. What Mary spoke of sounded like a curse, and any curse that could turn a human into a toy was not one that could be taken lightly. And then she felt surprise pour from the phone, followed shortly by Mary's voice.
"Holy crap! Cam, the house across the street is . . . it's . . ." her voice trailed off, and Madame Rouchard started to busily gather her things. "Cam it's like a giant dollhouse."
That got Madame Rouchard to pause. A curse to transform one person into a toy was a simple matter. To change an entire house along with it . . . and then she heard Mary Stevens say something that chilled Madam Rouchard.
"I want to go inside."
"No, do not go inside the dollhouse, Mary. Do you hear me? Do not go . . ."
"But I feel it calling to me," there was a worrying longing in her voice, and Madame Rouchard could feel her friend's desire. Something was impairing her judgement, overriding her thoughts. And who knows what else. And then the psychic, knowing she had to protect her friend, pushed out a portion of her power, sending it across the phone lines of the city.
"Cam, I feel sleee . . . " there was a dull thud on the other end of the line, and Madame Rouchard hoped Mary hadn't been hurt. But putting Mary to sleep was the only way the psychic knew to protect her friend. She hurridly closed her shop and ran to her car so she could make haste to Mary Steven's house, and to the bottom of this mystery.
Meanwhile, a colorful van pulled up in the driveway of the new dollhouse. Two figures, a man and a woman, stepped out and surveyed too-large playset. The both seemed very normal high school kids. Except for their slight and strangely pointed ears. Without fear or hesitation, they walked to the dollhouse door . . .
