Young Scrooge Read Online Free PDF Page B

He pushed my hand toward the paper. “Go ahead. Start it for me. You start it and I’ll finish it.”
    â€œOkay, okay.” I leaned over the paper, pulled the cover off the marker, and started to draw.
    It took me less than a minute. I set the marker down, raised the paper, and showed Charlie my drawing.
    â€œHey! You’re dumb!” he cried. “You didn’t draw a squirrel. You drew a house.”
    â€œI know,” I said. “The squirrel is inside the house. ”
    I walked out of his room, laughing my head off.
    Mom stepped into the hall, brushing her hair back with both hands. “I have to go to the store,” she said. “I forgot the chicken broth. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Watch Charlie, okay?”
    She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned, grabbed her purse, and hurried out the back door.
    Perfect. I was hoping she would leave for a while. Because it was time for one of my important Christmas traditions.
    I was already having a fun Christmas season. On Sunday, a group of kids from the high school walked onto our front yard and started singing Christmas carols. They could not believe the barrage of snowballs that I heaved at them as they tried to sing. It was a total riot.
    Now it was time for another holiday tradition of mine. This was my special tradition where I find where my Christmas presents are hidden, and I check them out before Mom gives them to me.
    Ha-ha. Why take chances? In case she messed up, I can give her some new hints about what I need her to buy me. What could be more important at holiday time than getting all the presents I asked for? Especially since it was my birthday, too.
    This year, I knew where the presents were hidden. In the big closet up in the attic.
    Through the front window, I saw Mom’s car speed off. I peeked into Charlie’s room to check on him. He was hunched over his squirrel drawing, humming to himself as he drew.
    So I crept to the back stairs and climbed to the attic. The wooden stairs were steep and creaky. The air grew hot as I stepped into the attic. It smelled kind of stale up here. A little bit like old sneakers after your feet have sweated in them.
    I had to duck my head because the attic ceiling is very low. Gray evening light washed in from the one small window at the other end of the long room.
    I unlatched the closet door and pulled it open. A whoosh of hot air greeted me. I fumbled for the light switch and clicked on the single lightbulb that hung on a cord from the low closet ceiling.
    There they were. Two piles of Christmas presents stacked against the back wall. One for Charlie and one for me. Already neatly wrapped in shiny red-and-green-and-silver paper.
    I walked over to them and counted. Eight presents for me. Six for Charlie. Not bad.
    But the big question was, did I get the PlayStation games I wanted? Or did Mom blow it and buy me baby games again this year? Or Xbox games that don’t work on my player?
    I had to find out. I grabbed the present on top of my pile and ripped open the wrapping. Yes! One of the games I asked for. I tore off the wrapping on the next present. Oh, wow . A gross, ugly sweater. What is her problem? I told her not to buy me clothes.
    I tossed the sweater to the floor and grabbed the next present.
    I realized I was sweating. Was it that hot in the closet? Or was I just excited about seeing my presents?
    I tore off the wrapping. Handkerchiefs? Huh? A whole bunch of handkerchiefs. Was she out of her mind?
    The next present was just as lame. A hairbrush. Yuck.
    Mom was totally blowing it this year.
    I unwrapped the next one on the pile. Whoa. A Christmas Carol songbook. Kill me now.
    Worst. Presents. Ever.
    The others were a little better. I finished checking them out. Then I rewrapped them quickly. Too bad that I was so eager, I ripped a lot of the paper.
    I started in on Charlie’s presents next. I had to make sure he didn’t get anything that I wanted for