Free Young Scrooge by R. L. Stine Page B

try to grab it back. “And that’s it for presents?” I said, thinking of the big stack of gifts in the closet back home.
    â€œChristmas is a time of giving,” Mom said, flashing me a sad smile. “We’ve always taught you that, Scroogeman.”
    â€œBut you’re not giving us anything else?” I said.
    â€œWe gave some of your clothes and some of your old games and books away,” Ashley said. “We gave them away to—”
    â€œYou what ?” I cried.
    â€œTo those less fortunate than us,” she finished her sentence.
    I stared at her. My mouth hung open. Was that the lesson I was supposed to learn about Christmas? To give my stuff away? They had to be joking.
    We just had a plum for dinner. And we got plastic key chains for gifts? And they were talking about people less fortunate ? Are you kidding me?
    â€œAre you ready for our Christmas Eve dessert?” Mom asked. She disappeared into the kitchen. She returned a few seconds later carrying a plate of green grapes.
    â€œMy favorite!” Ashley cried, clapping her hands.
    What a weirdo.
    Mom dropped four grapes on each plate. “Enjoy,” she said.
    Dad took his knife and sliced each grape into two halves. Then he ate the halves slowly, holding them up one by one, chewing each one a long time. “Now let’s do our annual Christmas tradition,” he said. “Let’s go around the table and tell what we are grateful for.”
    Excuse me? Was I supposed to be grateful for a plum and four grapes?
    Dad started to talk about what he was thankful for. It had something to do with his back being better. I didn’t listen. I was staring at something hanging on the kitchen wall. Squinting into the kitchen, I saw the calendar stuck on the side of a cabinet.
    And when I saw the year, I had to force myself not to utter a cry. Not to pump my fists in the air and leap onto the table and do a celebration dance.
    It was this year . The ghost hadn’t lied. I really was in the present .
    I was back in the right year. Back where I belonged.
    And as my new mom yammered on about something she was happy about, I instantly realized what I was happy about. I was happy that I could escape from this house and go home.
    No problem.
    I just wait till they’re asleep. I run out of this tacky falling-apart house. I find someone who will lend me a phone. I call my real mom and she comes and gets me.
    How easy is that?
    It wouldn’t take long before I was home with Mom and Charlie, in time to celebrate my birthday and Christmas, and eat till I burst, and enjoy all my presents (and Charlie’s, too).
    Ashley poked me in the ribs, jarring me from my happy thoughts. “Go ahead, Scroogeman. We’re waiting for you.”
    I gazed around the table. “What?”
    â€œWe’re waiting,” she said. “What are you thankful for?”
    â€œWell…” I thought hard.
    What was the right answer?
    â€œI’m just thankful to be able to enjoy Christmas Eve dinner with my wonderful family,” I said.
    That brought smiles to all of their faces. Score one for Rick Scroogeman.
    â€œScroogeman is right,” Ashley said. “People have to care about each other. Whether they’re rich or as poor as our family. People have to love each other and stick together.”
    â€œYes. Stick together,” I said. “I’m all about that, Ashley. For sure. I’m all over that, you know. Sticking together is totally my thing.”
    Of course, I was thinking of only one thing—escape.
    I’m thankful to be getting out of this dump, and I’m thankful never to have a plum and a few grapes for dinner again. Good-bye and good luck.
    Ashley helped her parents clear the dinner table. There wasn’t much to clear. I mean, there hadn’t been any food on the table.
    I stood up and stretched. I wondered how early my new mom and dad go to bed. I planned to escape this