Turnkey (The Gaslight Volumes of Will Pocket Book 1) by Lori Williams, Christopher Dunkle Page A

is a living resident here and I don't want
you stealing from her.”
    “Do you think
she'd really mind?”
    “I don't care. I mind. I don't want to see you leave this place with anything more valuable than
a scrap of paper.”
    “Pocket, really?”
    “Promise me!”
    “Fine.” He grabbed
a handful of old papers from the tables and made a big show of stuffing his
pockets with them. “There! You happy? Just papers!”
    He grabbed some
more and shoved into his clothes. I wasn't amused.
    “You're
hilarious,” I grumbled.
    “Thanks,” he
grumbled back. “So, while you’re up there on your pedestal of morality, you
wanna tell me what I'm supposed to do for survival with these papers? For
food?”
    “I have decided something!”
said the Doll, walking into the room. We quieted and gave her our combined
attention. She struck the pose of a royal about to deliver a great address to
her people.
    “I think we should
go outside,” she continued.
    “Outside?” I
asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Where exactly
outside?”
    “Around,” she
said. “Around and about.”
    “Uh...I don't know
if that's such a good idea.”
    “I won't make much
noise.”
    “Sorry. Not sold.”
    “It's probably
much safer here for you,” Kitt said. “And you've got that nice glass case back
there. Very fancy. Haven't seen one of those outside.” This angered her and she
went away for a few minutes. Kitt started frowning again.
    “Was that the
wrong thing to say?” he asked.
    “Apparently.”
    “Do you think she
hates me?”
    The Doll burst
through the door again, key spinning wildly, with an old basket in her hands.
She was smiling.
    “I found this.”
    “All...all right,”
Kitt said, confused.
    “You can have
picnics with this, yes?”
    “You want to go on
a picnic?”
    “Around and
about.”
    I couldn't help
but smile. “She's cute,” I said under my breath to Kitt. I think she heard me,
because she started to grin.
    “I've never been
outside,” she said.
    “Ever?” Kitt
asked.
    “Never.”
    “Hmm...well, I
suppose you wouldn't have. But then how do you know about picnics?”
    “I know many
things.”
    “Spoons,” I
offered.
    “Yes, spoons. And
picnics and many things. You do not have to go outside to know about it.”
    “Okay,” Kitt said.
“That's fair. A picnic it is, then.”
    She was all
smiles.
    “Have fun,” I
said.
    She was all
clouds.
    “You're coming
too,” she said.
    “I shouldn't. I—“
    “Come on, Pocket,”
Kitt said, taking up sides with the Doll. “She looks so sad.”
    “Since when do you
care?”
    “I care about
happy people!”
    “You have to come
too,” she said to me. “You turned my key.”
    “What?”
    “Look, we both
slept here last night,” Kitt said. “We owe her for the hospitality. Plus, we
did put a hole in her window up there.”
    “We?”
    I was going to
argue further, but...sigh...I never could stand such a look of disappointment
in a woman's eyes.
    “You win,” I said.
“One day outside.”
    She lit up and
started hunting down things to put in the basket, which she gave Kitt to hold,
while chattering away about various customs and facts from the outside that she
was determined to confirm with her own eyes.
    When she was
finished, she took me by the hand and headed for the stairs.
    “Hold on,” I said.
“What about that?”
    “What?”
    “ That. ” I
pointed to the key in her back.
    “What about it?”
    “Don't you think
you might stand out a little with that thing?”
    “Maybe. I don't
mind if people stare.”
    “Right. Of course
not. Nor should you. Me neither.”
    “Then let's go.”
    “Just the same,” I
said, holding her momentarily back. “It probably wouldn't hurt to use a little
subtlety.”
    “How?”
    “Oh...I don't
know. If you had a drape or an umbrella or something that might draw attention
away...”
    “Wouldn't this be
easier?” She reached behind her and, with a pop, pulled the turnkey out of her
back. Kitt and I froze. She blinked