“Hi, Santa!” said Kenny Thompsen.
“Who?” Jeffrey asked. He didn’t know what Kenny was talking about.
Then, as Jeffrey sat down at his desk, Ben called out, “Hey, Santa. How’s the big guy, Rudolph, doing?”
“What’s the joke?” Jeffrey asked Ben. But before Ben could answer, Ricky Reyes came by and slapped Jeffrey on the back. “Totally awesome Santa suit yesterday,” he said with a laugh.
Jeffrey smiled, but his mind was clicking in high gear. Someone had come to class yesterday wearing a Santa suit, and everyone thought it was him. But who was it? Maybe it was—Oh, brother! Of course! It had to be Max!
“It wasn’t me,” Jeffrey said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ben said. “That’s what you said yesterday, too. ‘I’m not Jeffrey,’ you said. ‘I’m really Santa.’ ”
“But it wasn’t me,” Jeffrey insisted.
“Arvin Pubbler thought it was you,” Melissa said.
Jeffrey looked over at pudgy and unpopular Arvin Pubbler.
Arvin gave Jeffrey a big wave. “Thanks, Santa. Thanks a lot,” he called from his desk in the corner.
“Thanks for what?” Jeffrey asked.
But Arvin couldn’t answer because just then Mrs. Merrin, their teacher, said, “Jeffrey, come with me.”
“Uh-oh,” Melissa whispered from the desk behind Jeffrey.
Jeffrey got up and slowly followed his teacher to the door.
“Nice to see you again,” Mrs. Merrin said. “Help me do an errand. I need to wheel the VCR and monitor down from the office. We’re going to see a movie later.”
When they were out in the hall and halfway to the office, Jeffrey said, “Mrs. Merrin, can we play a little game?”
“Another game, Jeffrey? Yesterday’s Santa Claus game was enough. But what did you have in mind?” His pretty teacher gave him a warm smile.
“Let’s pretend I don’t remember what happened yesterday. You tell me what I did,” Jeffrey said.
Mrs. Merrin stopped walking and leaned her back against the brightly painted hallway lockers. “Well, yesterday at about noon you walked into class dressed as Santa Claus. Red suit, pillow belly—the whole thing. You had so much cotton on your face, I could hardly recognize you.”
“How did you know it was me?” Jeffrey asked.
“Who else would be sitting at your desk?”
I’ll bet I can guess, Jeffrey thought to himself. “What else did I do?” he asked. “I honestly don’t remember.”
Mrs. Merrin’s eyes twinkled. “Well, you asked everyone in the class what they wanted for Christmas. You wrote it all down, but you didn’t ask me.”
Jeffrey was curious. “What do you want?”
“What I really want is a top-of-the-line mixer,” Mrs. Merrin answered. “It has a big bowl and all kinds of attachments.” She laughed and bit her lower lip at the same time. “And my husband doesn’t seem to be getting the hints I leave. Anyway, no more Santa Claus act, okay? Once is enough.”
Jeffrey wanted to say okay. But the truth was, it was out of his hands. Who knew what Max would do next? Max was out of control.
At lunch in the cafeteria, Jeffrey looked for Ben. He wanted the whole story of Max’s Santa stunt. Suddenly, he saw someone else. It was Arvin Pubbler. And he was carrying Jeffrey’s remote-control racing car!
“What are you doing with my car?” Jeffrey yelled. He tried to grab the car out of Arvin’s hands.
But Arvin held on tight. He looked at Melissa, who was sitting nearby. “Can you believe this guy? Pretending like he didn’t give me his car.”
“I didn’t give it to you,” Jeffrey said. “I had to earn the money for that car myself. Why would I give it away?”
“Because you were really Santa Claus yesterday,” Arvin said. “You asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I said a remote-control racing car. So you just reached into your desk and gave me yours.” Arvin looked at Jeffrey’s car and smiled. “No one has ever done anything like that for me, ever. Especially you, Jeffrey. I’ll never forget it. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Yes you can,” Jeffrey grumbled, but he knew he couldn’t take back the car. Arvin looked too happy.
“Hey, cheer up, Jeffrey,” Melissa said. “You taught everyone a lesson about the Christmas spirit yesterday. And even though we can’t ever believe a word you say, because you make up so many stories, I want you to know you’re a wonderful human being.”
“Oh, go sit on your hairbrush, Melissa,” Jeffrey snapped. He stormed away angrily.
Jeffrey didn’t want to teach anyone a lesson about the Christmas spirit. But he did want to teach Max a lesson. Max—the ghost who thought it was a big laugh to give away his twenty-dollar remote-control racing car!
Max finally showed up on the way home from school. “Ho ho ho, Daddy-o,” Max said.
“Ha ha ha, you mean,” Jeffrey said angrily. “I guess you think you’re a real funny ghost.”
“Like, why are you so bent out of shape?” Max asked. “Too many pretzels at lunch today?”
“I’ll tell you why I’m mad,” Jeffrey said. “You lied to me. You said you were going to school yesterday. You didn’t say that you were going as Santa.”
“Like, I thought I’d give the class a thrill,” Max said with a smile.
“You gave them more than a thrill,” Jeffrey yelled. “You gave away my remote-control racing car!”
“So? That’s the Santa scene, dig? Someone asks for a toy and Santa comes through.”
“Santa doesn’t come through by giving away my stuff,” Jeffrey said. “I thought you were my friend.”
“No sweat,” Max said with a snap of his fingers. “Just ask Santa for another car.”
“Oh, sure,” Jeffrey said. “Maybe it’s that easy for Arvin Pubbler. But I had to earn the money for that car. Max, why don’t you just stop messing up my life, dig?”
“What I dig is that you are so square that your hat has corners,” Max said.
“Oh, why don’t you drop—”
Jeffrey stopped himself from saying the last angry word. But he knew by the look on Max’s face that it was too late. He had already hurt Max’s feelings.
“Drop dead? You don’t have to worry about that, Daddy-o,” Max said quietly. “I’m a ghost, remember? That’s already been taken care of.”
And then the ghost disappeared.
And this time Jeffrey knew he was gone for good.
Chapter Four
Jeffrey stood in the snow for a moment without moving. He didn’t know what to feel. And worse, he didn’t know what to do. Jeffrey hadn’t meant to hurt Max’s feelings. But what the ghost had done wasn’t right, either.
So Jeffrey walked home alone. He went inside and headed for his room. He didn’t even notice that his father was home early. Mr. Becker was in the living room helping Mrs. Becker. They were trying to untangle strings of outdoor Christmas lights.
“Hi, guy,” his father called. “Bad day at the office?”
“The worst,” Jeffrey said.
“Well, good things are happening here,” Mr. Becker said. “Want to help put up the lights?”
Jeffrey shook his head.
“I have good news,” said his mother. “Someone is coming to see you.”
“Max?” Jeffrey blurted out.
“Max? Who’s Max?” asked Mr. Becker.
Mrs. Becker shrugged. “No, it’s your cousins. Your aunt and uncle were called out of town on an important business trip. So Wendy and Jonathan are coming to spend the holidays with us.”
“Are you kidding? How could you do this to me?” Jeffrey exploded. “Don’t you know I hate them? Last time Jonathan was here, he mangled my bike trying to do a wheelie! And Wendy is so spoiled. She threw out my pet lizard last time just because she said it watched her every time she came into the room.”
“Jeffrey, maybe you need a lesson about the Christmas spirit,” his mother said.
Jeffrey rolled his eyes. He had heard enough about the Christmas spir
it already today.
“I’m at an impressionable age, Mom,” Jeffrey said. “Don’t let them come. If I have a bad shock to my system right now, I might grow up to be someone who makes fake rubber vomit for a living.”
“Wendy and Jonathan will be here this weekend,” Mrs. Becker said firmly.
“This weekend?” Jeffrey said. “That’s only two days. It doesn’t give me much time.”
“Time for what?” asked his father.
“Time to find someplace else to live!” Jeffrey said. He put his coat back on and ran out of the house.
First Jeffrey headed toward Melissa’s house. Melissa! Good old, dependable, next-door-neighbor buddy, Melissa, he thought. Wait! Jeffrey stopped in his tracks. Melissa couldn’t help him. She was spending the holidays at her grandmother’s house.
How about Kenny? Good old, dependable—forget it. Kenny was going to Florida for two weeks. Forget Ricky Reyes, too. His father was an airline pilot. He was taking the whole family to Hawaii.
Then Jeffrey thought of Ben. Good old, dependable, best-friend buddy, Ben! There was someone Jeffrey could count on. Someone who would understand Jeffrey’s problem. And, most important, someone who had a big house with plenty of room to hide in.
Jeffrey found Ben in the kitchen tying up a large plastic garbage bag. Taking out the garbage was Ben’s job. He hated it.
“Ben, how would you like an early Christmas present?” Jeffrey said. “You know how you always say you wish you had an older brother? Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“You’re giving me a human being for Christmas? That’s kind of gross, isn’t it, Jeffrey?” Ben asked.
“Not just any human being,” Jeffrey said. “The perfect human being. He qualifies as an older brother, but he’s only seven weeks older than you. He’d be more like a best friend.”
“Are we talking about someone specific?” Ben asked.
“Yes,” said Jeffrey. “Me! On a special, risk-free, two-week trial basis, I’ll be your older brother. I’ll take out the garbage for you. I’ll always be good and set an example for your little brother and sister. And I’ll take the blame for everything. At the end of Christmas vacation, if things aren’t working out, I’ll go home. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like your cousins, Wendy and Jonathan, are coming for a visit,” Ben said.
“How did you know?” Jeffrey asked.
“I just called your house looking for you,” Ben said, smiling. “Your mom told me.”
“Ben, you’ve got to let me stay here during Christmas vacation,” Jeffrey pleaded.
“Sounds great to me,” Ben said. “But it’s up to my mom and dad. You’ll have to talk them into it. My dad won’t be home from the office until dinner.”
Jeffrey looked at the clock. “That gives me exactly one hour and twenty minutes to think up a good story,” he said.
“Knowing you, that’s plenty of time,” Ben told him.
Jeffrey stayed for dinner so that he could talk to Ben’s parents. As soon as the meal started, he stared at his plate and tried to look sad.
“Jeffrey, you’re not eating much,” said Mrs. Hyde.
“I guess I’m thinking about my mom,” Jeffrey said quietly.
“She has malaria,” Ben whispered gravely.
“I thought you only got malaria in jungles,” said Mr. Hyde.
“My mom’s been eating a lot of bananas lately. Bananas grow in jungles,” Jeffrey explained. “I came home after school today and there was a big sign on my door. It said ‘Guaranteed.’ ”
“He means quarantined,” Ben said.
“Right,” Jeffrey quickly agreed. “Quarantined. And there was a policeman at the door who told me what it meant. I can’t go in until my mom gets well.”
“Malaria, huh,” Mr. Hyde said. He shook his head solemnly. “That’s a tough break, especially so close to Christmas. Your family sure has had a streak of bad luck, Jeffrey. I remember last spring when those killer bees kidnapped your parents.”
“Fortunately, it was just a case of mistaken identity. They let my mom and dad go as soon as they realized they weren’t famous movie actors,” Jeffrey said. “But you were really great to let me stay here then, Mr. Hyde,” he added politely. He hoped Mr. Hyde would get the hint.
“What do you think?” Ben said. “Can Jeffrey stay here?”
“Just until my mother is out of quarantine?” Jeffrey asked.
Ben’s parents looked at each other and smiled.
“Jeffrey, we’d like to help you out,” said Mr. Hyde. “But we decided this morning to take the family on a skiing vacation. We’re leaving tomorrow after school.”
“That’s okay. I love to ski!” Jeffrey said. “I’m secretly in training for the Olympics. I haven’t even told my parents yet.”
“That’s terrific,” said Mr. Hyde. “But if you came with us, you’d miss your two cousins who are coming to stay with you.”
Jeffrey’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know about that?” he asked.
“We called your parents to see if you could stay for dinner,” explained Mrs. Hyde. “They told us.”
“You mean my mom doesn’t have malaria?” Jeffrey said, pretending to be surprised. “I guess I really fell for their joke that time, huh? My parents sure have a great imagination, don’t they?”
“With you around, they’d have to,” said Mr. Hyde with a laugh.
Jeffrey walked home glumly that night. When he got to his front yard, he saw the snow fort. It was mostly melted. And someone had chopped away at the remains, leaving only crumbled ice.
Some holiday this is going to be, Jeffrey thought. Just three days ago it had seemed like it would be the best Christmas ever. But that was before the big fight with Max. Now Max was gone—and the rest of Jeffrey’s friends were leaving soon.
If only Max would come back, Jeffrey thought to himself. Max would know how to take care of Jonathan and Wendy. He smiled at the thought.
But without Max, Christmas was going to be dullsville for sure.
Chapter Five
At lunch, Jeffrey’s bowl of alphabet soup kept giving him messages. B-A-D. R-U-N. E-X-I-T. Even his soup seemed to know that trouble was coming to his house. In fact, it would be there as soon as his father got back from the bus station. He was bringing Wendy and Jonathan.
“She’s bossy,” Jeffrey said out loud.
“Because she’s a girl?” his mother replied with a smile.
Jeffrey stirred his soup. It spelled H-A-T-E.
“And he’s always trying to get me into trouble,” Jeffrey said.
“Jonathan is just like his father,” Jeffrey’s mom said. “He always had a mischievous sense of humor.”
“Mischievous? Mom, you could say the same thing about Darth Vadar! Why do you always look on the bright side of everything?”
They heard a car horn beep outside. Jeffrey’s heart told him that it was too late for any more arguments.
His mother started for the front door, but she paused to say, “Jeffrey, you promised to make the best of this situation. I expect you to keep your word.”
Jonathan came in first. He was a tall seventh-grader with a black leather jacket and black hair in a bristly haircut.
“Hey, Aunt Betsy,” Jonathan shouted, giving his aunt a crushing hug.
“Hello, Jonathan,” Mrs. Becker said, laughing and gasping for breath. “I can’t believe how big you are!”
“Yeah,” Jonathan said. “I’ve been taking growing lessons. Ha ha ha.” He whirled and faced Jeffrey. He jerked his fists up to fighting position. Jeffrey jumped back in surprise.
“Two for flinching. Ha ha ha!” said Jonathan. He gave Jeffrey two quick, light punches on the arm.
Wendy came to the door more cautiously. She was Jeffrey’s age, but Jeffrey thought she was always trying to act older. Wendy had straight dark hair. Her brightly colored down jacket looked like it had never seen snow.
“Hello, Aunt Betsy,” Wendy said. She walked in w
ithout hugging Mrs. Becker and said to Jeffrey, “Why don’t you have a holly wreath on your door? We put ours up a week ago.”
“We don’t put a holly wreath on the door,” Jeffrey said.
Wendy looked at Jeffrey as though he were something she’d found at the bottom of a garbage can.
“Come on, Wendy,” said Mrs. Becker. “I’ll show you where you’re staying.”
“I know where I’m staying,” Jonathan said. He grabbed his suitcases and charged up the stairs to Jeffrey’s room.
By the time Jeffrey got there, Jonathan had already moved in. His clothes were lying all over the place. A heavy-metal tape was blasting out of Jeffrey’s cassette player. And Jonathan had his feet on Jeffrey’s bed.
“Get off my bed,” Jeffrey said. “You’re sleeping in the sleeping bag.”
Jonathan stood up and picked up a soft, beat-up brown leather baseball mitt. It was an old one that Max had given Jeffrey. The mitt had the autographs of famous ball players from the fifties. It also seemed to have magic, too.
“Where’d you get this?” Jonathan asked.
“Put that down,” Jeffrey snapped.
“Hey, there’s writing on it,” Jonathan said, grabbing a pen from Jeffrey’s desk. “Think I’ll sign my name, too. Ha ha ha ha!”
Jeffrey grabbed the mitt from his cousin.
“It was a joke,” Jonathan said. “Lighten up, okay?”
Jonathan pretended to play guitar along with the loud music. Jeffrey looked around his room for things he wanted to hide.
“Listen,” Jonathan said. “I want to be here about as much as you want me to. Who ever heard of parents leaving their kids on Christmas?”
Jeffrey didn’t know what to say.
Jonathan’s eyes suddenly focused on the empty box from Jeffrey’s remote-control racing car. It was on the floor in Jeffrey’s closet. “Hey! You’ve got a remote-control car! Totally awesome. Where is it?”
“I don’t have it anymore,” Jeffrey said.
“What kind of lame thing is that to say? Did you break it?” Jonathan asked.
“No, I didn’t break it,” Jeffrey said. “A friend of mine gave it to someone without my permission.”
Megan Stine_Jeffery & the Third-Grade Ghost 03 Page 2