Turkey Monster Thanksgiving Read Online Free Page A

asked.
    “I’m going to put festoons over every window and every door. First, I have to pop the popcorn. Then I have to find a needle and thread.”
    “If there’s popcorn,” Dad said, “Thanksgiving can’t be all bad.”
    “What do turkeys eat?” Tyler asked Dad.
    “They love corn,” Dad told him. “Corn, the way it is before it’s popped.”
    All at once I knew how to fix Tyler. “They eat little kids who spill at the table,” I whispered as soon as Dad went back to his office.
    “No, Katie!” Tyler hollered.
    “Especially if there’s company,” I said.
    “Don’t let him get me,” Tyler said. He made me pull the drapes in the living room and lock the front door. He worried about that turkey monster right up until bedtime.
    Thursday morning before school, Claire stood under her blue umbrella, gazing at her house. “Isn’t our porch beautiful?” she asked.
    I had to say yes. Enormous pumpkins marched up the corners of steps. Little pumpkins and gourds snuggled between them. Cornstalk trees stood on either side of the front door, tied with floppy orange bows. More orange bows perched at the corners of the door and windows. A wreath of greens and straw and tiny gourds filled the center of the door.
    “We’re going to make a stuffed Pilgrim lady to sit in the porch swing.” Claire twirled her umbrella. Raindrops sprayed off it into my face.
    I stepped back, out of the way.
    “I took pictures of my front porch,” Claire said. “I also took one of your porch.”
    I turned to look. All at once, Tyler’s stroller, the wading pool, the water toys, and Dad’s old bicycle really showed. “It’ll be just as nice as yours,” I said. “We’re going to use festoons.”
    “Only seven more days,” Claire said.
    That afternoon after school, I listened for Mom’s songs on the radio while I strung popcorn and cranberries. The Thanksgiving commercials were louder today. “Don’t be caught short for the holidays,” someone shouted. “Check your candle supply.” The next ad was for something to ease that stomachache that “is sure to follow your bountiful Thanksgiving dinner.”
    Bountiful? I had to get Dad used to the turkey idea. I also had to get started on the other food.
    I found my grocery list and went into Dad’s office. “Are we by any chance out of something?” I asked.
    “Bread,” he answered.
    At the store, we filled our cart with cans of sweet potatoes, green beans, and fruit. Tyler sat in the middle of the cart, singing a quiet song to the cans. “Don’t you cry. Don’t you cry,” he sang. “We’ll open you up so you can play.”
    All the ladies in the store thought he was cute.
    “Are you sure you can make these dishes without my help?” Dad asked me.
    “I’m pretty sure,” I said. “The magazine said these were for the time-stressed woman. This week I’ll keep making decorations. And then, I’ll make Sweet Potato Brûlée, Green Beans Deluxe, and a Cranberry Tower.”
    “She is very organized,” Dad said to the woman behind us in the checkout line.
    It was time to tell him. “And you’ll do the turkey,” I said.
    Dad’s grin went away. “We’re not doing a turkey.”
    “Everybody’s doing a turkey,” I said. “Look!” I waved my hand at the magazines in the rack next to us. Every magazine had a turkey on the cover!
    “You can do it,” said the woman.
    I patted Dad’s arm. “You have me to help you,” I said.

Chapter 10
More Company Needed
    T HE NEXT MORNING, CLAIRE started again about Thanksgiving. “I’m going to dress up like a Pilgrim,” she said. “My dress will be blue, of course.”
    “We have to hurry,” I said, speeding up. I’d completely forgotten to look for my dress. I couldn’t think up a good centerpiece for the table. The festoons were taking forever. And I had to invite more people. But then I’d be in bigger trouble with Dad.
    “Is everybody on your list coming?” I asked.
    “Twenty people said yes,” she said. “My