Young Scrooge by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online

my hand free from the ghost’s cold grip. “You have to take me home,” I said.
    â€œNo, I don’t,” he said. “I have taken you far from your home. To a distant time. Before you were born.”
    â€œBut my mom will be waiting. She—”
    â€œYour mother hasn’t even been born yet,” he said. “Scroogeman, I brought you back to the distant past to show you a lot of things. You ruined Christmas for a lot of people. Now you need to learn the real meaning of the holiday.”
    â€œBut I already know that,” I protested. “What do you think I was doing in that attic closet? I was discovering what’s important about Christmas—my presents.”
    He shook his head. Two tall dark-hatted men in long overcoats walked past, both rubbing their beards and talking at once. One of them walked through the ghost as if he were made of air. The ghost didn’t seem to mind.
    I’m the only one who can see him , I realized.
    No way I could report him to the police.
    â€œWh-why did you do this to me?” I stammered. “Why did you bring me so far back in the past?”
    He lowered his hood close to my face. I could still see only darkness inside. “Because I knew you wouldn’t like it,” he whispered.
    The answer sent a chill down my back. “But … in the movie, the Ghost of Christmas Past makes Scrooge revisit his childhood,” I said.
    â€œThis isn’t a movie,” he snapped. “You have many lessons to learn, Scroogeman. You need to learn how to treat the people you know. Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule?”
    â€œSure,” I said. “Do it to others before they do it to you.”
    He remained silent for a long time. “Okay,” he said finally. The gray hood bobbed up and down. “Okay. That’s the Golden Rule. I have brought you back in time to a place where they practice your Golden Rule.”
    â€œGood,” I said. My head was spinning. I didn’t really know how to reply.
    â€œâ€˜Do it to others before they do it to you,’” the ghost repeated. “Let’s see how you like that, Scroogeman.”
    The long robe swirled around him as he turned away from me. He floated into the street as a horse and carriage clattered by.
    â€œHey, wait!” I called. “Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here. Where are you going?”
    He turned, and again I saw the empty blackness inside the hood. “Time for you to start school, Scroogeman. Follow me.”

 
    12
    Everything went black. When I could see again, we were standing in a dimly lit hall. Torches along the wooden wall provided a flickering light. Christmas wreaths were hung at the windows. Weird-looking, old-fashioned-type kids carrying leather book bags by their straps strode past us.
    â€œThis is your new school, Scroogeman,” the Ghost of Christmas Past said. “The Bleak Academy.”
    I stared at the kids walking past. Some of the boys must have been farmers. They wore dark denim overalls to school. Flannel shirts and bib overalls with straps like suspenders.
    Totally weird.
    The girls had hair down to their shoulders, tied back in colored ribbons. They all wore long skirts, gray or black, that came down to their heavy leather shoes.
    Everyone talked quietly, like they were afraid to make any noise. The loudest sound was the clump of their heavy shoes on the wooden floor.
    â€œI don’t want to go to this weirdo school. I want to go to my own school,” I told the ghost.
    â€œYour mean nature has brought you here, Scrooge,” the ghost said. His robe shimmered in the flickering torchlight. “Let us see how you enjoy being in a school where everyone treats you the way you treat others.”
    â€œâ€˜Mean nature’?” I cried. “Who says I’m mean? Tell me. Who said it? I’ll punch out his lights.”
    He didn’t reply.
    â€œTake me