Коралина / Coraline. Нил Гейман

stood blinking on the other side of the velvet curtains, in a poorly lit theater. Far away, at the edge of the room, was a high wooden stage, empty and bare, a dim spotlight shining onto it from high above.

      There were seats between Coraline and the stage. Rows and rows of seats. She heard a shuffling noise, and a light came toward her, swinging from side to side. When it was closer she saw the light was coming from a flashlight being carried in the mouth of a large black Scottie dog, its muzzle gray with age.

      “Hello,” said Coraline.

      The dog put the flashlight down on the floor, and looked up at her. “Right. Letʼs see your ticket,” he said gruffly.

      “Ticket?”

      “Thatʼs what I said. Ticket. I havenʼt got all day, you know. You canʼt watch the show without a ticket.”

      Coraline sighed. “I donʼt have a ticket,” she admitted.

      “Another one,” said the dog gloomily. “Come in here, bold as anything. ‘Whereʼs your ticket?’ ‘Havenʼt got one,ʼ I donʼt know . . .” It shook its head, then shrugged. “Come on, then.”

      He picked up the flashlight in his mouth and trotted off into the dark. Coraline followed him. When he got near the front of the stage he stopped and shone the flashlight onto an empty seat. Coraline sat down, and the dog wandered off.

      As her eyes got used to the darkness she realized that the other inhabitants of the seats were also dogs.

      There was a sudden hissing noise from behind the stage. Coraline decided it was the sound of a scratchy old record being put onto a record player. The hissing became the noise of trumpets, and Miss Spink and Miss Forcible came onto the stage.

      Miss Spink was riding a one-wheeled bicycle and juggling balls. Miss Forcible skipped behind her, holding a basket of flowers. She scattered the flower petals across the stage as she went. They reached the front of the stage, and Miss Spink leaped nimbly off the unicycle, and the two old women bowed low.

      All the dogs thumped their tails and barked enthusiastically. Coraline clapped politely.

      Then they unbuttoned their fluffy round coats and opened them. But their coats werenʼt all that opened: their faces opened, too, like empty shells, and out of the old empty fluffy round bodies stepped two young women. They were thin, and pale, and quite pretty, and had black button eyes.

      The new Miss Spink was wearing green tights, and high brown boots that went most of the way up her legs. The new Miss Forcible wore a white dress and had flowers in her long yellow hair.

      Coraline pressed back against her seat.

      Miss Spink went off the stage, and the noise of trumpets squealed as the gramophone needle dug its way across the record, and was pulled off.

      “This is my favorite bit,” whispered the little dog in the seat next to her.

      The other Miss Forcible picked a knife out of a box on the corner of the stage. “Is this a dagger that I see before me?” she asked.

      “Yes!” shouted all the little dogs. “It is!”

      Miss Forcible curtsied, and all the dogs applauded again. Coraline didnʼt bother clapping this time.

      Miss Spink came back on. She slapped her thigh, and all the little dogs woofed.

      “And now,” Miss Spink said, “Miriam and I proudly present a new and exciting addendum to our theatrical exposition. Do I see a volunteer?”

      The little dog next to Coraline nudged her with its front paw. “Thatʼs you,” it hissed.

      Coraline stood up, and walked up the wooden steps to the stage.

      “Can I have big round of applause for the young volunteer?” asked Miss Spink. The dogs woofed and squealed and thumped their tails on the velvet seats.

      “Now Coraline,” said Miss Spink, “whatʼs your name?”

      “Coraline,” said Coraline.

      “And we donʼt know each other, do we?”

      Coraline looked at the thin young woman with black button eyes and shook her head slowly.

      “Now,” said the other Miss Spink, “stand over here.” She led Coraline over to a board by the side of the stage, and put a balloon on top of Coralineʼs head.

      Miss Spink walked over to Miss Forcible. She blindfolded Miss Forcibleʼs button eyes with a black scarf, and put the knife into her hands. Then she turned her round three or four times and pointed her at Coraline. Coraline held her breath and squeezed her fingers into two tight fists.

      Miss Forcible threw the knife at the balloon. It popped loudly, and the knife stuck into the board just above Coralineʼs head and twanged there. Coraline breathed out.

      The dogs went wild.

      Miss Spink gave Coraline a very small box of chocolates and thanked her for being such a good sport. Coraline went back to her seat.

      “You were very good,” said the little dog.

      “Thank you,” said Coraline.

      Miss Forcible and Miss Spink began juggling with huge wooden clubs. Coraline opened the box of chocolates. The dog looked at them longingly.

      “Would you like one?” she asked the little dog.

      “Yes, please,” whispered the dog. “Only not toffee ones. They make me drool.”

      “I thought chocolates werenʼt very good for dogs,” she said, remembering something Miss Forcible had once told her.

      “Maybe where you come from,” whispered the little dog. “Here, itʼs all we eat.”

      Coraline couldnʼt see what the chocolates were, in the dark. She took an experimental bite of one which turned out to be coconut. Coraline didnʼt like coconut. She gave it to the dog.

      “Thank you,” said the dog.

      “Youʼre welcome,” said Coraline.

      Miss Forcible and Miss Spink were doing some acting. Miss Forcible was sitting on a stepladder, and Miss Spink was standing at the bottom.

      “Whatʼs in a name?” asked Miss Forcible. “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

      “Have you got any more chocolates?” said the dog.

      Coraline gave the dog another chocolate.

      “I know not how to tell thee who I am,” said Miss Spink to Miss Forcible.

      “This bit finishes soon,” whispered the dog. “Then they start folk dancing.”

      “How long does this go on for?” asked Coraline. “The theater?”

      “All the time,” said the dog. “For ever and always.”

      “Here,” said Coraline. “Keep the chocolates.”

      “Thank you,” said the dog. Coraline stood up.

      “See you soon,” said the dog.

      “Bye,” said Coraline. She walked out of the theater and back into the garden. She had to blink her eyes at the daylight.

      Her other parents were waiting for her in the garden, standing side by side. They were smiling.

      “Did you have a nice time?” asked her other mother.

      “It was interesting,” said Coraline.

      The three of them walked back up to Coralineʼs other house together. Coralineʼs other mother stroked Coralineʼs hair with her long white fingers. Coraline shook her head. “Donʼt do that,” said Coraline.

      Her other mother took her hand away.

      “So,” said her other father. “Do you like it here?”

      “I suppose,” said Coraline. “Itʼs much more interesting than at home.”

      They went inside.

      “Iʼm