Free Strangely Normal by Tess Oliver Page B

myself. “He’s actually really good. That would explain the chemical smell. Does he work with paint thinner a lot?”
    Finley walked over to a closet and opened the door. “Yeah. Sometimes it smells like he bathes in the stuff.” She walked inside the closet, which was bigger than my parent’s bedroom, and reappeared with a large box. She dropped it on her bed, and I plopped down next to it. “I promised to show you my collection of voodoo dolls. I made them myself, and I have to say they’re pretty cool.” She opened the box, reached inside, and plucked out a tiny hand-sewn doll with yarn hair and small blue t-shirt with the words bad pet owner embroidered in black thread. She held it up and reached inside the box. This time she pulled out what appeared to be a fake piece of dog poop, like a prank you’d get from the joke shop.
    “I’m not following,” I admitted.
    “A couple years ago, Dr. Houston, one of the many silly shrinks my dad hired to listen to my problems, advised me to find an outlet for my frustrations.” She crinkled her nose. “The man always smelled like peppermint, and he was constantly smoothing down the ends of his moustache. Anyhow, he told me to sketch things that angered me, so I could deal with all my problems. I wasn’t really into drawing but I loved to sew. I got out my sewing machine and started making voodoo dolls. But instead of the dolls representing one person, they represented certain human traits that I really despised. Like this one.” She held up the doll again. “This doll represents all those awful people who don’t take decent care of their pets, people who leave their dogs out in the rain, or people who forget to feed their hamsters. It represents all the people who are selfish enough to have a pet but not decent enough to care for them.” She lifted the piece of plastic poop. “Instead of pins in the doll, I decided to be more creative with my hexes. All bad pet owners are cursed so that unless they change their ways, everything they eat smells like dog poop.”
    “Okay, that is clever but also very twisted.”
    She tossed the doll back into the box. “They deserve it. And strangely enough it made me feel better after I’d created the doll. Of course, when I showed it to Dr. Houston, he told my dad that he wasn’t sure how to proceed with my treatment.” She laughed. “I guess he thought I was too nuts to be saved.”
    “Obviously the man had no imagination. Or maybe he was a bad pet owner.” I reached into the box and pulled out another doll. This one wore a t-shirt that read ignoramus . I held it up. “Let me guess. Ignorant people?”
    “Yep. Can’t stand close-minded, stupid people, like Dr. Houston,” she added. “Anyhow, I’ve cursed them all to a never-ending ride on a roller coaster.”
    I reached in and plucked out another doll. “You really are great at sewing. The stitching on these dolls looks professional.” I rubbed my thumb over the embroidered letters that spelled out the word virus . “I see your anger moved on from humans and on to microscopic organisms.”
    She nodded but didn’t elaborate at first. I sensed a mood change and wondered what had triggered it. I was definitely going to have to learn which subjects to avoid. She’d brought out the voodoo dolls, so I’d assumed they were harmless. She scooped up the dolls and took the one I was holding from my hand and dropped them in the box.
    “It was a silly exercise, and in the end, it was worthless, just like Dr. Houston and all the other psychiatrists.”
    Her expression grew grim as she carried the box back to the closet. “Your sister died of a virus, didn’t she?” I asked the question knowing full well it might be a grave mistake. But at the same time, I sensed that she wanted to talk about it.
    Finley shut the closet door and stared at it for a moment. She still faced the door as she spoke. “I came home with the flu one day. It was a bad one, but I got over it in a