Humbug Holiday by Tony Abbott Read Free Book Online Page A

wait a sec we’ll meet you downstairs.…”
    Without losing its smile, the spirit said, “Touch my hand, and you shall be upheld with me!”
    Scrooge’s look said that even though he was Mr. Cranky, he wanted us to go with him. So I said, “Okay.”
    As soon as we touched the spirit’s sleeve, all four of us passed right through the wall—or maybe the wall dissolved—whatever it was, we were suddenly standing on an old country road somewhere.
    â€œLondon’s gone,” said Frankie. “It just vanished.”
    The darkness and mist had vanished, too, and it was a clear, cold, winter day in the country. There were fields on either side of the road, all dusted with snow.
    â€œSo where are we?” I asked.
    Scrooge jumped. “Why—I—I was a boy here!”

Chapter 9
    â€œOh, dear! Oh, my! It was so long ago!” Scrooge said, fairly hopping up and down on the old road.
    â€œDo you remember the way?” the spirit asked softly.
    â€œRemember it?” cried Scrooge. “I could walk it blindfolded! Let’s go. Come along, everyone. Follow me!”
    Still in his robe and nightcap and slippers, Scrooge bolted off, skipping and prancing over the rough road.
    â€œHe moves pretty quick for an old guy,” I said.
    â€œSo I guess we’d better follow him,” said Frankie.
    As he bopped along, Scrooge pointed out every stone, every tree, every gate and fence he remembered. When some boys appeared, riding shaggy ponies and calling to one another as they rode away from a small village, Scrooge nearly burst with delight.
    â€œHo, there!” he yelled out. “Boys! Stop! Ho, boys!”
    The Spirit of Christmas Past touched Scrooge lightly on the arm. “These are shadows of the past, shades of things that once were. Those boys do not know we are here.”
    Even so, Scrooge called out the boys’ names one by one. “Why, there’s David Fieldercop! And Nicholas Bickleny! Oh, and my dear friend, Martin Wizzlechut!”
    I laughed. “Hey, Frankie. Remember Mrs. Figglehopper told us how the author likes to give his characters funny names—”
    The spirit smiled. “Mrs. Figglehopper? Ah, now, that’s a funny name.”
    Scrooge’s eyes glistened to see his old friends as they wished one another a Merry Christmas, then parted at the crossroads and trotted off to their homes. But his smiles faded as he spotted a dark snow-dusted mansion in the distance. “My old school,” he muttered.
    â€œThe school is not quite deserted,” said the ghost. “A single boy remains there, forgotten by his friends.”
    â€œI know it,” said Scrooge.
    We touched the spirit’s sleeve again, and we were inside the school.
    The rooms were huge and cold, with broken desks in the classrooms and dark, stained walls.
    Dust covered the floors, and there was a funny smell, too, which reminded me a little too much of a zoo and not enough like a school.
    â€œMakes you appreciate Palmdale a bit more,” I said.
    â€œA whole lot more,” Frankie agreed.
    The ghost led us to a door at the back. It opened onto a long, bare room of empty desks. In the shadows a small boy was sitting, a book spread out before him.
    â€œHi,” I said. The boy didn’t look up.
    â€œDevin, he can’t hear you or see you,” said Frankie.
    Which was too bad, because the kid, who seemed around ten years old, definitely looked as if he could use some company.
    â€œBooks were my only friends,” said Scrooge, his eyelids flicking away what I’m pretty sure were tears. “Books were my only companions during the Christmases I spent here alone.”
    â€œThis is brutal,” said Frankie. “You had to spend Christmas all alone? At school?”
    â€œYou must have been really bad,” I said.
    He turned to us. “Bad? No. My father didn’t like me, that’s all … oh! Poor