The Christmas Thingy
By F. Paul Wilson
Pictures by Alan M. Clark
Text copyright © 2005-2011 by F. Paul Wilson
Illustration copyright © 2005-2011 by Alan M. Clark
Physical Book design by Alan M. Clark
eBook design by Eric M. Witchey
Originally Published by Cemetery Dance Publications in 2005
eBook Published by IFD Publishing in 2011
IFD Publishing, P.O. Box 40776, Eugene, Oregon 97404 U.S.A. (541)461-3272 www.ifdpublishing.com
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
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All persons in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance that may seem to exist to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.
Paper copy ISBN 1-58767-135-2
Hard cover ISBN: 1-58767-031-3
eBook ISBN: 978-1-4524-4554-0
Originally Printed in the United States of America
First eBook edition
Dedicated to Ethan Paul Bateman and Hannah Elizabeth Bowers
Alan M. Clark wishes to thank Melody Kees Clark for her assistance with Thingy’s note, and Jill Bauman for sharing her design ideas for Thingy.
A NOTE TO THE READER
THE CHRISTMAS THINGY is meant to be read aloud. So if you’re reading this to your children, or to your little brother or sister, try using different voices as you go along: Use your regular voice for Jessica; use a high-pitched British voice for Mrs. Murgatroyd; and hold your nose whenever the Thingy speaks. But most of all, have fun.
“You want what for Christmas?” Mrs. Murgatroyd says, bending to pick up the pieces of the plate she just dropped.
“A monster,” Jessica Atkins says, nibbling on her toast. “Not a big, mean monster. I want a friendly little one to play with when I come home from school, and maybe keep me company at night.”
“Don’t you wish for no monster, Miss Jessica,” Mrs. Murgatroyd says, her accent getting thicker with each word. “Not for Christmas! ’Specially not in this ’ouse!”
Jessica is sorry for upsetting the plump old housekeeper, but now she’s very curious. “What do you mean, Mrs. M.?”
“You just might get your wish!”
“Really?” Jessica claps her hands with glee. “Oh, I wish, I wish, I wish!”
“You’ll be very sorry, you will,” Mrs. Murgatroyd says in a grave tone. “Very sorry if the Christmas Thingy decides to pay you a visit.”
“‘Thingy?’” Jessica laughs. “‘Thingy?’ What a funny name!”
“You won’t be thinkin’ it’s so funny when you wake up Christmas morning and find out what’s ’appened to all your presents.”
Suddenly Jessica is no longer smiling. “Wh-what will happen?”
“The same thing that ’appened almost one ’undred—no, I do believe it was exactly one ’undred years ago.”
Jessica waits patiently as the housekeeper counts the years. Mrs. Murgatroyd sort of came with the house and has worked here forever.
“Yes. It was exactly one century ago this year that the Christmas Thingy visited this very ’ouse. The lit’le boy who lived ’ere then ’ad been wishin’ for a secret friend. Well, as Advent came, ’e got ’is wish: the Christmas Thingy arrived. It stayed right up until Christmas, it did, and then it left, because Thingies must always return to Thingyland before dawn on Christmas morning. But before it left this ’ouse a century ago, it stole some presents.”
“Oh, that’s awful!” Jessica cries.
“Not all the presents, mind you; not the ’ole family’s. Just one person’s. The ones for the lit’le boy who ’ad befriended it. The Thingy stole all the lit’le boy’s presents and took them back to Thingyland to ’oard and gloat over, because nobody gives presents in Thingyland at Christmas. They steals them.”
“But why?”
“Thingies steal,” says Mrs. Murgatroyd with a shrug. “They can’t ’elp it. Stealing is in their nature. 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.’”