Turkey Monster Thanksgiving by Anne Warren Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

treasures.”
    Claire lifted her blue Pilgrim skirts and flounced down the steps. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said.
    “Tyler’s out somewhere by himself.” I swallowed a sob. “He needs me.”
    “I’m sure he’s not here.” Claire straightened her Pilgrim hat and tightened the blue bow under her chin. “We didn’t invite him, remember?”
    “Here’s one,” someone said.
    “I give up,” said a tall man.
    “Look what I found.” Purple Hat held out a blue bowl. “It’s full of unpopped popcorn,” she said, “It was in front of that wooden turkey.”
    I ran to her. “That’s our bowl! Tyler has been here!”
    Just then the Pilgrim lady on the porch swing began to move. All eyes turned to watch. “It’s turkey food,” a little voice said. “Put it back.”
    I ran onto the porch as Tyler crawled out from under the Pilgrim lady’s wide skirts. I wrapped my arms around him. “Are you okay?”
    “I brought him popcorn,” Tyler whispered to me. “He’s tame now. I know he’s tame. He laid eggs for me.”
    “At least we found a lost child.” Claire’s dad held the door open for all his company. “Maybe the birds got some of the truffles. We hid a lot of them.”
    “Doesn’t matter,” the tall man said. “This is a great party. Thanks to you and Claire.”
    Claire fluffed her skirts and pranced up the porch steps as Tyler set our blue bowl of popcorn in front of the turkey.
    “He didn’t lay eggs,” I told him. “He can’t. He’s not real.”
    Just then a car drove slowly down the street and pulled into our driveway. Ms. Morgan!
    My stomach churned. My party was starting. I wasn’t ready.

Chapter 20
Poison Oak!
    “M S. MORGAN’S HERE,” I called to Tyler. “Come on!”
    Claire spun around. “Who’s here?” She grabbed her skirts and raced after us.
    “Happy Thanksgiving!” Ms. Morgan said. She stepped out of her car and reached back in for a package.
    “ Ms. Morgan is your company?” Claire stared at me, an angry look on her face.
    Ms. Morgan turned back to us, holding her pies. “Apple and pumpkin,” she said. “Hello, Claire. I didn’t realize you lived right across the street from Katie.”
    “You should be coming to MY house,” Claire said. “Not to hers.”
    Ms. Morgan put her finger to her lips. Then she looked up and down the street. “Just look at your beautiful porches,” she said. “You’ve turned your street into a Thanksgiving celebration.”
    Claire and I stopped glaring at each other.
    “Thank you,” we both said.
    “We have a ton of people,” Claire told Ms. Morgan. “One lady said our party should be in the newspaper.”
    “I believe it,” Ms. Morgan answered. “I see you’re wearing a Pilgrim costume, Claire. Very nice.”
    “I’m glad you like it.” Claire lifted her skirts and turned slowly around.
    My clothes! I looked down at my jeans and soggy tennis shoes. Nothing was turning out right. And why wasn’t Dad back yet with the turkey?
    As Claire ran back to her house, Tyler dragged Ms. Morgan and her pies onto our porch.
    She looked back at me and smiled. “I love these vines,” she said. She lifted her hand and reached toward the green leaves.
    “Don’t … touch!” I said.
    “I’ll be very careful.” Ms. Morgan brushed her hand gently down along the leaves. “So pretty,” she said.
    And then she brushed her hand back up. I couldn’t speak. Ms. Morgan was a goner.
    “Wash it off!” I finally gasped, but by then, Tyler had pulled her through the door, and she didn’t hear me.
    I started up the porch steps. Ms. Morgan was going to hate me. I would never, ever live this down.
    I heard a car coming. Our car.
    I ran back toward the driveway and watched Dad park behind Ms. Morgan’s car. Now we’d have a turkey. Brown and beautiful like the ones in the magazines. The turkey would fix everything.
    But Dad opened his door and held up his hands. They were empty.

Chapter 21
The Last Great Idea
    D AD’S FACE WAS