Young Scrooge Read Free Page B

were afraid of you. They were afraid of what you would do to them onstage during rehearsals. They were afraid you would bully them.”
    â€œBully?” I repeated the word.
    â€œWe’ve talked a lot in class this year about bullies,” she said. “You remember, don’t you?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know any bullies,” I said. “I think they’re probably only in books.”
    She gazed at the wall clock on the far wall. “I think we have to wrap this up,” she said. “But before you go, I just want to say a few more things to you.”
    She kept talking, but I stopped listening to her. I was thinking hard. My mind was spinning because of what she had told me. The other kids didn’t want me to be in the play. That’s why I was stage manager.
    They didn’t want me. They didn’t want Rick Scroogeman.
    Miss Dorrit was saying something about the Golden Rule. But I didn’t hear a word. I could feel the anger bubbling in my chest.
    They didn’t want me. They didn’t want me onstage with them.
    Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.
    I had to find a way to pay them all back.
    And guess what?
    I had a really fun idea.

 
    5
    After dinner, Mom, Charlie, and I were in the den. Mom sat on the edge of the soft couch, knitting a Christmas sweater for one of our cousins.
    She was always knitting sweaters for our cousins. She never did one for Charlie or me, and I was glad because her sweaters always weigh a ton and they’re totally itchy. They itch you right through your shirt. Right through your skin. Seriously.
    Mom had the Weather Channel on the TV. She’s obsessed with the Weather Channel in winter. She likes all those snowy scenes of cars stranded on the highway and roofs collapsing under six feet of snow. She loves snow disasters.
    Mom has a good sense of humor, like me.
    Charlie was down on the floor in front of the coffee table. He had a big bag of jelly beans in his lap. I dropped down beside him and swiped the jelly bean bag out of his hand.
    â€œHey—!” He grabbed for it. Missed.
    â€œWhere’d you get these?” I asked.
    â€œLeft over from Halloween,” he said. “They’re mine. Give them back.”
    â€œWow. Look at that car stranded on an icy river,” Mom said, pointing at the TV. “How horrible.”
    â€œJelly beans aren’t good for you,” I told Charlie. “And these are stale.”
    â€œJelly beans don’t get stale,” he argued. He’s very bright for seven. “Give them back.”
    â€œTell you what,” I said. “Since I’m a nice guy, I’ll share them with you. It’s almost my birthday, right? So we can divide them up.” I tilted the bag and poured them all onto the rug.
    I started making piles. “Two for me, one for you. Three for me, one for you.”
    He made an ugly face and punched me in the shoulder. He’s so skinny and lightweight, I could hardly feel it. “Stop it, Rick. You’re cheating!” he whined.
    â€œWhat are you learning in school?” I asked him.
    He thought for a moment. “We’re learning about the different states,” he said.
    â€œCharlie, tell me what things you learned about the states,” I said.
    He likes to show off about school stuff. He started to talk about California and then Nevada. Then he moved on to Wyoming.
    While he talked, I gobbled up a handful of jelly beans. I figured if I could keep him talking, I could eat most of the candy before he finished.
    I ate about two dozen, and I saved him five jelly beans. He is my brother, after all.
    â€œMom, Rick ate my jelly beans,” Charlie wailed.
    â€œI shared them with him,” I said.
    Mom had her eyes on the TV. “Rick, I think I’m going to buy you new snow boots for Christmas,” she said.
    I almost gagged. “Huh? Boots for Christmas? You’re joking, right?”
    â€œHe only saved