The Christmas Thingy Read Free

old housekeeper very suspicious.
    First of all, there are the noises in Miss Jessica’s room. Mrs. Murgatroyd has heard crashes, laughter, running feet, and, on a number of occasions, when she’s listened at the door, she’s heard the sound of two voices talking: Miss Jessica’s, and someone else’s.
    Secondly, little things are missing about the house. For days now, Mr. Atkins has been looking for his favorite tie clasp; Mrs. Atkins reported yesterday that her favorite pen, the one she uses to write herself notes, is missing; and just this morning Mrs. Murgatroyd discovered that her very own tortoise shell comb is gone.
    “I may not be Sherlock ’Olmes,” she says to herself, “but it don’t take no bloomin’ genius to suspect that the Christmas Thingy is back.”
    Just then Jessica walks into the kitchen.
    “I won’t have time for breakfast this morning, Mrs. M.,” she says.
    “Late again?” says Mrs. Murgatroyd. “Whatever do you do in that room these past few mornings?”
    “Oh...I just play.”
    “Well, Miss Jessica, I wouldn’t be doing me duty if I didn’t give you one more warning: Don’t ’ave nothin’ to do with that Christmas Thingy. It’s bad news, it is.”
    “Maybe that story about the Thingy isn’t true,” Jessica says.
    “It’s true all right. And should that Thingy show up, don’t you let it tell you otherwise. Thingies love to lie; they tells the truth only when necessary. And don’t be forgettin’: They steals. As me Mum used to say, ‘Like a rose must bloom and a pig must squeal, a cow must moo and a Thingy must steal. It simply must.’ You may think it’s your friend, Miss Jessica, but it’s obliged to return to Thingyland before dawn on Christmas morning, and when it does, it will take all your presents with it.”

     
    “I have to go back upstairs for a minute,” Jessica says.
    Mrs. Murgatroyd nods her head slowly as she watches Jessica limp away.
    “It’s come back,” she says to herself. “I’m sure of it now. The lit’le blighter’s come back.”
    ~~~
     
    Jessica is worried as she hurries back up to her bedroom. She and Thingy have been having such a great time these past few weeks. Every day has been something new. Thingy is full of all sorts of magic and knows hundreds of wonderful tricks. Jessica has never had such a special friend all to herself before. She doesn’t want to believe that Thingy’s been lying to her.
    As she bursts into her room she says, “Are you going to be my friend forever, or are you going to take all my presents and leave me on Christmas Eve?”
    Thingy looks at her with its wide, innocent eyes and says, “What kind of a friend would take another friend’s Christmas presents?”
    “Good. I knew you wouldn’t do something like that to me. See you after school.”
    “Bye, Jessica,” says Thingy.
    ~~~
     
    Later on that morning, Mrs. Murgatroyd arrives in Jessica’s room with her broom. “I know you’re ’ere, Mr. Thingy,” she says. “An’ I’m going to find you. An’ when I do, I’m going to take me broom and sweep you right back to Thingyland, I am.”
    Mrs. Murgatroyd spends most of the morning searching Jessica’s room. She searches under the bed, in the drawers, in the closet, under the night table, everywhere a Thingy might hide. In a corner under Jessica’s bed she finds Mr. Atkins’ tie clasp, Mrs. Atkins’ pen, and her own tortoise shell comb.
    But nowhere does she find a trace of the Christmas Thingy.

     
    “I may not be too sure of many things in me life,” she says to herself at last, “but I know for certain there’s no Christmas Thingy in this room.”
    So saying, she takes her broom and leaves.
    ~~~
     
    It’s Christmas Eve and Jessica is wrapping the last of her presents in her bedroom.
    “Who’s that for?” Thingy asks.
    “My mother. I made her a chain for her eyeglasses.”
    “I’m sure she’ll love it,” Thingy says. “What do you think Santa will bring you?”

     
    “I