Read Online Young Scrooge by R. L. Stine - Free Book Online Page B

Scroogeman,” I said. “Remember? I’m the new kid. I arrived yesterday?”
    He took the attendance book from my hand, and his finger rolled down the list of his students. He took his time, reading carefully.
    Finally. He raised his eyes to me. “I’m afraid you aren’t in my class, either, Mr. Scroogeman.”
    â€œBut—but—but—” I sputtered like a motorboat. The heavy feeling in my stomach spread to my whole body.
    â€œYou should check Mr. Harrison’s class,” he said, closing the book. “Perhaps since you are new—”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I’m not in another class. I’m in your class.”
    He shrugged. “Sorry. You’re not here.”
    â€œThen where am I ?” I cried.
    â€œNowhere,” he said softly.
    And as he said that word, he faded away.
    Nowhere.
    The word lingered in my mind. And repeated. Nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere.
    Mr. Dulwich vanished slowly, and the classroom faded with him. His desk shimmered and then was gone. The color seeped from the walls until I was surrounded by gray. Solid gray everywhere I turned. The little Christmas tree was the last thing I saw.
    And then there I stood, like I was suspended in space, in a solid, silent world of gray … no shades … all the same gray … until I didn’t know if I was seeing or not. Didn’t know if my eyes were open or closed.
    Then, when someone grabbed my shoulder, I opened my mouth and screamed.

 
    19
    I spun around. And cut off my scream as I saw a short, pudgy man in a black-and-white-checkered suit beside me. He had a funny face. I mean, the kind of face that makes you laugh. A big pink lightbulb of a nose and round black owl eyes, and a tiny red mouth shaped like a heart.
    He had ringlets of curly orange hair falling from beneath a tall, shiny black top hat. He wore a red bow tie and had a matching red flower in the lapel of his checkered jacket. The flower looked like the kind that squirts water.
    â€œAre you ready to come with me, Scroogeman?” he said. He had a high voice and kind of sang the words instead of speaking them.
    â€œWho are you supposed to be?” I demanded.
    His round cheeks turned red. So did his bulby nose. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” he said in his odd singsong.
    For a moment, he disappeared into the gray. Then he came back in full color.
    â€œYou’re the Ghost of Christmas Presents?” I said. “Did you bring me my Christmas presents?”
    He flickered again and nearly disappeared.
    â€œI am the Ghost of Christmas Present ,” he said. “I shall take you to your family—if you have learned the lessons of the past.”
    My heart skipped a beat. “You’ll take me to my family? Really?” I cried happily. “Oh yes. I learned a lot. I learned a lot of lessons from the past.”
    Okay, I was lying. You know it, and I know it. But he didn’t have to know it—did he?
    He stared hard at me, so hard his big bulby nose twitched. “And what lessons have you learned, Scroogeman?”
    â€œWell…”
    Think fast. Think fast.
    â€œI learned to be a good guy and always be nice to people and to think about other people’s feelings, not just my own.”
    The ghost crossed his arms in front of him. “I thought you were a better liar than that,” he said.
    â€œOh, I am. I am,” I replied. “Just give me a chance.”
    â€œWhat did you really learn?” the ghost asked.
    â€œNot to go running into a pigpen at night?”
    He gripped my shoulder again. His grip wasn’t gentle. He tightened his fingers until I flinched. “Ow.”
    â€œI’m taking you to your family, Scroogeman,” he said. “You have much to learn in the present day.”
    â€œI … I get to go back to Mom and Charlie?” I asked.
    He didn’t reply. He stared straight forward. We started