Free Young Scrooge by R. L. Stine Page A

I will.”
    Sonny boy?
    They acted as if they knew me, as if I really belonged in their family.
    I was suddenly starving. My stomach grumbled. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a meal.
    I crossed the shabby living room to the dining room. “Okay. I’ll play along,” I said. “What’s for dinner?”
    The woman gave me a thin smile. “We are each going to have a juicy ripe plum.”

 
    20
    Was there something wrong with my hearing?
    Did she just say we were going to have a plum for Christmas dinner?
    I let out a sigh and walked over to them. “Where should I sit?” I asked.
    â€œScroogeman, stop acting the clown,” the mother said. “You know where you sit. Why are you acting so strange tonight? Because it’s Christmas Eve?”
    I took a chance and sat down next to the girl. Her name was Ashley. I figured it out because that’s what her parents kept calling her. She kept poking me with one finger and tickling my ribs when the parents weren’t looking. Just like a little sister.
    Didn’t she know I don’t belong here?
    The table was nearly bare. The four dinner plates didn’t match. On each plate, I saw a purple plum.
    â€œAre we having turkey or ham after the plum?” I asked.
    My new father scowled at me. “Scroogeman, we are having a plum for dinner, and let’s be grateful for that.”
    My stomach rumbled again. “That’s all? A plum?” I cried. My voice cracked.
    â€œSlice it very thin, and it will go a long way,” my new mom said. “Show him, Ashley.”
    Ashley picked up her knife and began cutting her plum into very thin slices. “This looks so juicy,” she said. “I love Christmas Eve dinner.”
    â€œWe always have a turkey and a ham,” I said. “And a big layer cake for dessert.”
    â€œIn your dreams?” the dad said. He pushed a slice of plum into his mouth and chewed it as if it were a chunk of steak. “Is that what you dream about, Scroogeman?”
    The mom sighed. “A tall layer cake. Yes, that’s something to dream about. Maybe someday…” Her voice trailed off.
    I sliced my plum the way Ashley did. I took a bite. Mine wasn’t quite ripe. But I didn’t care. I was so hungry, I planned to eat the pit.
    I finished my plum in about ten seconds. When Ashley turned away, I grabbed three or four slices off her plate, and I ate those, too.
    â€œHey!” she shouted angrily. “Mom—Scroogeman ate some of my plum.”
    â€œIt’s Christmas, dear,” the mom scolded. “Be generous.” Mom turned to me. “What else do you dream about?”
    â€œI dream about my Christmas presents,” I said.
    â€œWell, I have a nice present for the two of you,” the dad said. “It isn’t anything special. You know how hard it has been for me at the factory. Especially with my bad back.”
    He climbed to his feet and crossed the room. He picked up two small items from the top of a cabinet. He handed one to Ashley and one to me. A smile spread over his face. “These were made with love,” he said. “Made with my own two hands.”
    I gazed at mine. It was a tiny piece of molded plastic, very smooth, shaped like an old-fashioned whistle, painted blue with smile emojis up and down it. Ashley’s was just like mine, only painted green.
    I raised my eyes to Dad, who was still smiling. “What are they?” I asked.
    â€œKey chains,” he said. “They let me use the three-D printer at the factory, and I made them. My own design.”
    â€œLove it!” Ashley cried. She jumped up and hugged her dad.
    â€œYeah. Awesome,” I said. “Thanks. Awesome present.” I tucked it into my jeans pocket.
    â€œMaybe someday you’ll have keys to put on them,” the mom said.
    I slipped the last plum slice off Ashley’s plate and swallowed it before she could