Fright Christmas by R.L. Stine

1

    â€œK enny, look!” My little sister’s face lit up with a big smile. She held up a ballerina doll for me to see. “Isn’t she beautiful?” She sighed. “This is the one I want for Christmas.”
    My mom took Kristi to see the ballet Sleeping Beauty last month. Now that’s all she talks about, all day long. Ballerinas. Ballerinas. Ballerinas.
    â€œAre you sure this is the one you want?” I asked her.
    Kristi’s head bobbed up and down. “Oh, yes!” she said.
    â€œLet’s see if she can twirl.” I took the doll from Kristi and spun her around on her head.
    â€œKenny! Stop. You’re ruining her hair,” Kristi wailed.
    The doll spun to a stop. She fell flat on her back and her eyelids jammed shut.
    â€œLook, Kristi. She is the one you want,” I exclaimed. “She can be Sleeping Beauty.”
    I tossed the doll on a shelf.
    â€œKenny! Give her back to me!” Kristi brushed her short blond curls from her face. “I have to show her to Santa—so he’ll know what to bring me for Christmas.”
    Christmas.
    That’s why I was stuck here—in the middle of Dalby’s Department Store. On Christmas Eve. In the toy department. With Santa and his dumb elves and my six-year-old sister, Kristi.
    It’s not that I have anything against Christmas. I mean I like the presents—it’s all the “peace on earth” stuff I hate.
    Anyway, Mom said I had to watch Kristi while she finished up her Christmas shopping—which ruined my whole night.
    I think Christmas Eve is the best night of the year. It’s when I sneak into our neighbors’ yards—and unscrew all the lightbulbs on their Christmas trees.
    Kristi tugged on my sleeve. “Come on, Kenny.We have to get in line to meet Santa. I have to sit on his lap and tell him what I want.”
    â€œSanta had to go back to the North Pole,” I told her. “We can’t see him. He’s not here anymore.”
    Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
    Uh-oh. I hope it’s not Mom. I hope she didn’t hear me just lie to Kristi. I’ll be in for it big-time.
    It wasn’t Mom. It was worse.
    Timmy Smathers. A real nerd. And the shortest kid from my class at Shadyside Middle School.
    â€œHi, Kenny!” Timmy greeted me with his big goofy smile. “Isn’t this toy department awesome?”
    I stared at him blankly for a second. Then I glanced down at him and said, “Oh, Timmy—it’s you. For a second I thought you were one of Santa’s elves.
    Timmy’s smile faded from his face. He hates when anyone mentions his height. So I do it as much as I can.
    â€œHi, Kristi!” Timmy turned to my sister. “Did you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?” he asked in his squeaky little voice.
    Kristi shook her head. She peered down at her sneakers.
    â€œSanta isn’t here anymore. He had to go back to the North Pole,” she whispered. “Kenny said so.”
    Then she glanced up at me. Her lower lip trembled.I spotted a big fat tear slide out of the corner of her eye and down her cheek.
    â€œHey! Don’t cry, Kristi.” Timmy smiled his goofy smile again. “Kenny made a mistake. Santa is sitting in his village right now. He won’t leave until all the kids get a turn to talk to him.”
    Kristi’s face turned beet red. She scrunched up her nose—her angry look.
    â€œYou lied to me, Kenny!” she yelled. “Take me to Santa’s Village. Right now!”
    â€œBye, Kenny. Merry Christmas!” Timmy shouted cheerfully as he strolled away from us.
    â€œBye, Tiny. I mean Timmy,” I called back. “Merry Christmas!”
    â€œIf you don’t take me right now, I’m telling Mom how you lied to me about Santa,” Kristi threatened.
    â€œOkay! We’re going. Come on,” I groaned.
    I grabbed Kristi’s hand and tugged her toward the end of the toy