“I dare say, that’s just what it sounded like to me, as well. I thought it came from this room.”
“Well, as you can see,” Jessica says, pointing to her lamp, “my lamp is as good as new.”
“So it is. I do believe me ears is starting to play tricks on me! Ah, well. Come downstairs now. Breakfast is ready.”
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Jessica says.
As Mrs. Murgatroyd steps out into the hall and closes the door, Thingy sticks his head out from under the bed and winks.
Jessica laughs. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.
~~~
“I feel it in me bones,” Mrs. Murgatroyd says as she sips her morning tea. “That Christmas Thingy blighter’s come back.”
It’s been two weeks since she thought she heard Miss Jessica’s lamp break, and a number of happenings have made the 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 don’t know,” Jessica says as she places the gift on the floor. She turns to Thingy with a big smile. “It doesn’t matter. Even if he puts coal in my stocking tonight, this will still be the best Christmas ever because of you, Thingy.” She takes off her leg brace and leans it in its usual spot against the night table. “We’ve had so much fun! And there’s so much more fun to come!” She leans over and kisses Thingy on the top of its head. “Good night, my best friend.”
“Good night, Jessica.”
“Get to sleep now,” Jessica tells Thingy as she turns off her light. “Before Santa Claus comes!”
“Okay. I will.”
~~~
But Thingy doesn’t go to sleep. It doesn’t even crawl under the bed. Instead, it waits up in the dark until after it hears Santa Claus come and go. Then it sneaks downstairs.
Thingy doesn’t want to steal Jessica’s presents. It really likes Jessica, but it can’t help itself. Like a rose must bloom and a pig must squeal, a cow must moo and a Thingy must steal. It simply must.
As Thingy peeks into the great living room, it sees the big Christmas tree all alight, and sees all the presents piled around it. Thingy wishes they had Christmas like this in Thingyland. It would be so much better than stealing.
Suddenly, Thingy spies a dark figure in the corner by the fireplace. It’s Mrs. Murgatroyd, standing guard over the presents with her broom, ready to sweep an unwary Thingy back to Thingyland.
But Thingy knows how to take care of her. It braids up its tentacles and squeezes its eyes shut, and in less than a minute Mrs. Murgatroyd is sound asleep.
Safe now, Thingy approaches the tree and starts picking out all of Jessica’s presents. Then it carries them up to Jessica’s bedroom. This is tough work because Santa has left Jessica so many presents. As Thingy gets ready to push the presents under the bed to take them back to Thingyland, it spies a little gift-wrapped box sitting all alone under the bed.
Thingy pulls out the box and looks at the tag. It reads, “To Thingy from your pal, Jessica.”
Thingy can’t believe it. Quickly, it tears the box open and inside finds a tiny Christmas tree decorated with miniature balls and strung with tiny garland.
A tear forms in Thingy’s eye. No one has ever given it a Christmas present before—or any present, for that matter. It simply isn’t done in Thingyland.
Thingy is suddenly very upset. This ruins all its plans. How can it steal Jessica’s presents after Jessica gave it one for its very own? The Christmas Thingy knows that Thingies must steal, but it can’t take Jessica’s presents now, it simply can’t!
Thingy hurries back downstairs and replaces the presents under the tree, then returns to Jessica’s bedroom.
Thingy knows it has to get back to Thingyland before dawn. There’s not much time left, and it must steal something to bring back with it...it simply must. But what? It doesn’t want to take anything Jessica will miss. What...?
Suddenly Thingy has an idea. A wonderful idea! It knows just what to steal. It braids up its tentacles, scrinches its eyes shut, and starts the magic...
~~~
/> Jessica awakens the next morning to find a note beside her bed:
With her heart pounding, a very worried Jessica slips out from under her covers and looks under the bed. Thingy is gone, and so is the present she left for it. Missing her friend already, she runs downstairs to see if Mrs. Murgatroyd has been right all along.
But no. She finds lots of presents for her under the tree. Jessica wakes Mrs. Murgatroyd, then rushes back up to her room and looks around. There’s no sign of Thingy, and she can’t imagine what is missing.
What could Thingy have taken?
Suddenly Jessica gasps and looks down at her left leg. She forgot to put on her brace and yet here she is standing without it.
“It works! My leg works!”
She looks over by the night stand—the brace is gone! And then she remembers Thingy’s note:
I took something you won’t be needing.
“Mommy! Daddy!” she cries, and runs down the hall on her two good legs to show them how her friend the Christmas Thingy left her the best Christmas gift of all.
But in the back of her mind she wonders what will Thingy ever do with her old leg brace?
~The End~
Author’s Bios
F. PAUL WILSON is the award-winning, bestselling author of more than twenty novels and dozens of short stories. Over six million copies of his books are in print in the US and his work has been translated into twenty-four foreign languages. He also has written for the stage, screen, and interactive media.
ALAN M. CLARK has been a free-lance illustrator since 1984. He is the recipient of the World Fantasy Award and four Chesley Awards.
Connect with F. Paul Wilson and Alan M. Clark Online
Warning
While The Christmas Thingy is a charming story and appropriate for children of all ages, be aware that some of the material at the following web sites is not appropriate for small children:
You can contact the author and illustrator through the following websites.
http://www.repairmanjack.com
http://www.alanmclark.com
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F. Paul Wilson, The Christmas Thingy
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