Humbug Holiday by Tony Abbott Read Free Book Online Page B

Ebenezer! Poor boy!”
    I glanced at Frankie. “Ouch …”
    She shook her head sadly.
    Scrooge sat down next to his small self and looked at him closely. “I wish, I wish, but, no, it’s too late now.”
    â€œWhat is the matter?” asked the spirit.
    â€œNothing,” said Scrooge. “Nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas song on the street last night. I wish I had given him something, that’s all.”
    Frankie pulled from her pocket the coin we had gotten from the man in the street. “It’s called charity.”
    The ghost smiled thoughtfully, then waved its hand. “Let us see another Christmas, Ebenezer Scrooge!”
    It happened in an instant.
    Scrooge’s former self suddenly grew larger, and the room around us became even darker and more dirty. The windows cracked, bits and chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling, the floor became more stained and dull, and the dust mounted up like mini-snow drifts.
    It must have been three or four Christmases later, and kid Scrooge was still there. But he wasn’t reading. He was pacing up and down the classroom.
    â€œHe’s waiting for someone,” said Frankie.
    And someone did come.
    The door behind us opened, and a little girl, much younger than the boy, came darting in.
    â€œDear brother!” she exclaimed. “I have come to bring you home, dear brother! To bring you home! Home!”
    The girl put her arms around young Scrooge and hugged him and gave him a kiss.
    Young Scrooge’s eyes welled with tears. “Home, little Fan? No, it can’t be—”
    â€œBut it is!” she said. “Yes! Home, once and for all. Home, for ever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, and he spoke so gently to me one night that I wasn’t afraid to ask once more if you might come home. And he said yes, you should come home—right away. And he sent me in a coach to bring you!”
    â€œBut, Fan … I can’t believe it!” young Scrooge said.
    â€œYou are never to come back here, Ebenezer. Ever, as long as you live. And we’ll be together all Christmas long, and have the merriest time in all the world!”
    Tears now streamed down young Scrooge’s face. Down mine, too, and Frankie’s, and even old Scrooge’s.
    â€œIt’s true,” said Scrooge. “She did come one year, my little Fan. And I never did come back here—”
    The sound of clopping hooves from outside told us that a carriage had arrived. Fan clapped her hands and laughed as she and her brother rushed out the door together.
    â€œShe was always a delicate creature,” the ghost said. “But she had a good heart.”
    â€œThe very best heart in the world,” said Scrooge, watching his young self step into the carriage. “The best in the whole world!”
    â€œAnd when she died,” said the ghost, “she had, I think, children.”
    â€œOne child,” said Scrooge.
    â€œTrue,” said the ghost. “Your nephew!”
    Scrooge frowned at the floor. “My nephew.”
    At that moment, someone called out, “Bring down Master Scrooge’s things!”
    A small box was tossed down from an upper floor to the carriage driver outside. Following it came a large sack, then something purple with straps and zippers.
    I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Oh, my gosh! Frankie! My backpack! It’s here!”
    I flew past the ghost and jumped out the door to grab my pack from the pile of stuff on the carriage.
    But even as I did—and even as I smelled the wonderful chocolaty smell of my mother’s cookies—the ghost said, “Now look upon yet another Christmas, Ebenezer Scrooge!”
    â€œNot yet!” I shouted. “My backpaaaaack—”
    But the spirit wouldn’t wait. With a wave of its hand, the school was gone, and the countryside began to fade.
    â€œWait!” I yelled.
    I actually felt the strap