The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery Read online

  Beverly Lewis Books for Young Readers

  PICTURE BOOKS

  Annika’s Secret Wish • In Jesse’s Shoes

  Just Like Mama • What Is God Like?

  What Is Heaven Like?

  THE CUL-DE-SAC KIDS

  The Double Dabble Surprise

  The Chicken Pox Panic

  The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery

  No Grown-ups Allowed

  Frog Power

  The Mystery of Case D. Luc

  The Stinky Sneakers Mystery

  Pickle Pizza

  Mailbox Mania

  The Mudhole Mystery

  Fiddlesticks

  The Crabby Cat Caper

  Tarantula Toes

  Green Gravy

  Backyard Bandit Mystery

  Tree House Trouble

  The Creepy Sleep-Over

  The Great TV Turn-Off

  Piggy Party

  The Granny Game

  Mystery Mutt

  Big Bad Beans

  The Upside-Down Day

  The Midnight Mystery

  Katie and Jake and the Haircut Mistake

  www.BeverlyLewis.com

  The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery

  Copyright © 1993 by Beverly Lewis

  Bethany House Publishers edition published 1995. Originally published by Star Song Publishing Group under the same title.

  Interior illustrations by Barbara Birch

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2012

  ISBN 978-1-4412-6066-6

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  To

  MARY ERICKSON

  Your cheerful heart

  and gentle words

  make me smile.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  The Cul-De-Sac Kids Series

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  Back Cover

  ONE

  It was five days before Christmas break.

  Eric Hagel shoved his feet into his snow boots. He peeked out his bedroom window. A full moon made the snow twinkle. He shivered thinking about his paper route.

  Downstairs, Eric stuffed newspapers into his canvas bag. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and zipped up his fleece jacket. Pushing his earmuffs on, Eric stepped out into the cold morning.

  Then he saw it—a moving van parked in front of the empty house next door. Snow was stuck to its huge tires.

  Eric peeked around the porch. What a giant moving van, he thought. There must be a bunch of kids moving in!

  Ducking behind the tree in his yard, Eric watched. A man with a long nose and a pointy chin shouted orders to the movers. He waved his cane in the cold air, like someone directing traffic.

  Eric dashed through the snow. He slid behind a hedge close to the garage. Now he could see better.

  He watched as the man’s long coat billowed out like a cape.

  “Put the boxes in the living room,” the man said. His voice sounded gruff. And a little scary.

  Eric glanced at his watch . . . 6:30. Plenty of time before school started.

  The movers carried in a sofa and chair. And beds and lamps and boxes. Eric kept waiting for some kids to show up. Surely the new neighbor didn’t live by himself. Surely he had a family . . . or someone.

  A gust of wind blew Eric’s green scarf across his eyes. He pushed it back quickly.

  The old man paced back and forth. Then he stopped. He was staring at the hedge. Could he see Eric hiding behind it?

  Quickly, Eric stuffed his scarf inside his coat. He pushed his newspaper bag down. He could feel his heart thumping.

  The old man shuffled to the edge of the sidewalk.

  Eric shivered.

  Then the old man mumbled something, but Eric couldn’t understand it.

  Maybe he was having a bad day. Moving was like that sometimes.

  Eric remembered the day he moved to Blossom Hill Lane. It was no fun. Not till he met the Cul-de-sac Kids. Now, there was no better place on earth!

  We stick together, no matter what, Abby Hunter had always said. And it was true from the first time he met them. The Cul-de-sac Kids were true friends.

  Eric decided he would be the one to welcome the new kids. The ones he hoped were moving into the house at the end of Blossom Hill Lane. He would do it—even if he had to spy a little first.

  TWO

  Eric watched the old man go inside. He wanted to ask where his family was. But it was time to deliver papers.

  Eric got up and brushed the snow off his knees. He crossed the street to Stacy Henry’s house. A light was on in the kitchen. Stacy’s mother was probably getting her crockpot ready. She worked long hours.

  Eric opened the storm door. He tried not to shake the Christmas wreath. Then he put the newspaper inside.

  Abby Hunter’s house, next door, was dark except for Christmas lights. Around each window, red, white and green lights flashed on and off. On and off.

  Next came Dunkum’s house. His real name was Edward Mifflin, but nobody called him that. He was Dunkum, the hottest third grade basketball player around.

  Eric opened the storm door. He placed the newspaper inside.

  Eric did the same thing at each house. He wanted to keep the papers dry for the customers.

  Someone was up early at Dee Dee Winter’s house. Probably her dad. Mr. Winters had a long drive to work in the mountains.

  Eric turned left at the end of the cul-de-sac. He had a bunch more houses to go.

  The sky was turning grayish pink. It would be dawn soon.

  At last, Eric headed home. His mother’s hot blueberry oatmeal was waiting.

  In the corner of the kitchen, his grandpa’s birds chirped their morning song. Three canaries and a pair of parakeets.

  Soon, Eric heard Abby Hunter’s whistle. The Cul-de-sac Kids were heading for Blossom Hill School.

  Eric’s mother hugged him. Then he pulled on his boots, jacket and scarf. Again.

  He dashed out the front door, letting it slam.

  Across the street, Abby and her new Korean brothers, Shawn and Jimmy, packed clumps of snow into balls.

  Stacy Henry hid behind her snowman. She laughed as the snowballs flew at her.

  Dee Dee Winters was halfway down the cul-de-sac, skipping through piles of snow. She strapped on her red backpack. It was probably filled with Christmas cookies for her teacher. Dee Dee was the best first grade cookie-maker ever.

  Carly Hunter, Abby’s little sister, followed Dee Dee. They were best friends. They giggled and kicked the snow in the street.

  Dunkum and Jason Birchall ra
ced and slid. They zoomed up and down Dunkum’s driveway. After school they would go sledding down Blossom Hill—mean and steep—three blocks away. Eric, too.

  Eric hurried to catch up. His pants stuck to his knees. It was from kneeling in the snow, spying on the new neighbor. “Wait up!” he called to Dunkum and Jason.

  Abby ran up to him. “What took you so long today?”

  Eric pointed to the house with the moving van. “I wanted to see who was moving in.”

  Stacy tossed a snowball to Abby. Abby caught it and threw it back.

  “Were you spying, Eric?” Stacy asked, grinning.

  “Just welcoming the new neighbors,” Eric said, grinning.

  “There’s only one,” said Stacy.

  Eric pulled at his wet jeans. “Who says?”

  “Abby does,” Stacy insisted.

  “You sure there are no kids?” Eric said.

  Stacy nodded. “Right now, Shawn and Jimmy are the newest kids on the block.” She chased Abby’s brothers. They were too fast for her.

  Eric tramped through the deepest snow he could find. He grumbled under his breath. “I hope they’re wrong,” he whispered. “Who wants to live all alone?”

  Eric felt sorry for the old man. He remembered when he and his mother were alone. It was after his father died in Germany. Then his mother invited Grandpa to live with them. That’s when they came to America.

  That was two years ago—when Eric was in first grade.

  Eric turned around and looked down the cul-de-sac. Just as he did, the man with the pointy chin stood in the window of his house. He was leaning on his cane. He seemed to be looking right at Eric.

  Eric froze in place.

  The man was looking at him!

  Eric shivered. His stomach flip-flopped.

  Then the curtains closed.

  Eric turned around. He ran to catch up with his friends. But all he could think of was the man at the end of the cul-de-sac. Why is he alone? Is he as creepy as he looks?

  The bell rang as Eric started across the schoolyard. “Wait for me!” he called.

  “Hurry up,” shouted Dunkum. “Well be late!”

  The school bell rang.

  Eric slid down the sidewalk and hurried into the school.

  THREE

  Eric pounded down the hall toward the third grade. He pushed the door open. Miss Hershey was writing on the board.

  Eric pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket. Then he slid into his seat behind Dunkum. He tapped his friend on the shoulder.

  Dunkum turned around. “What?”

  “There’s an old man at the end of the block. And he’s uh, real scary,” Eric whispered.

  Dunkum frowned. “There is?”

  Eric described the old man’s long dark coat, the cane, his face and . . .

  “Eric Hagel,” Miss Hershey said.

  Eric looked up. “I’m here.”

  Miss Hershey was calling roll. Eric would have to tell Dunkum the rest of the story at recess.

  Abby was passing back the spelling tests from last week. Eric made a 100. Yes!

  He leaned up to look at Dunkum’s. But Dunkum put his hand over the grade at the top of his paper.

  Too late, Eric saw it.

  “Don’t worry,” Eric said. “I’ll help you drill for the next test.”

  Dunkum picked at the eraser on his pencil. “OK,” he muttered.

  Eric looked at the new spelling list. The words were: Yule, candlelight, carols, wreath, tinsel, holly, angels, and mystery.

  Mystery? Eric stared at the word. What was it doing on the Christmas spelling list?

  Squeezing his pencil, Eric began to write the words in his best cursive.

  It wasn’t easy. Eric kept seeing the old man’s face. It showed up when he wrote the date in the lefthand corner. It appeared when he wrote his name on the right side.

  Eric rubbed his eyes. He had to get the man’s face out of his mind!

  He looked at the flag. He counted to ten under his breath. Then he looked at Miss Hershey. Her bright red and green Christmas sweater might help him forget the scary face.

  “Eric, are you all right?” Miss Hershey asked.

  He nodded. Everything would be all right soon, he told himself.

  After school, Eric went sledding down Blossom Hill with Dunkum and Jason. Eric forgot about the scary face. It was almost dark when the boys headed home.

  “Are you still gonna help me with my spelling?” Dunkum asked Eric.

  “Sure am,” Eric said. “But I have to get home after that and finish my book report.”

  “What’s your book about?” Jason asked.

  “It’s a mystery” Eric answered.

  “Sounds good,” Jason said. “I like mysteries.”

  Dunkum’s sled got stuck in the snow. He pulled hard on the rope. “Mysteries are OK, I guess.”

  Jason laughed. “The scarier the better.”

  “Don’t they give you bad dreams?” asked Dunkum.

  “Sometimes,” Jason said. “But if I pray before I go to bed, it’s better.”

  Eric pulled his scarf tighter. “Why don’t you just skip the scary stuff?”

  Dunkum said, “Yeah, remember that Bible verse about only thinkin’ on good stuff?”

  “The Bible says that?” Eric said.

  Dunkum smiled. “I learned it when I first went to Abby’s church. You should come see the Christmas program. I’m gonna be Joseph this year.”

  “Who’s Mary?” Jason asked.

  “Abby Hunter,” Dunkum said. His cheeks turned red. But not just from the cold.

  Eric scooped up some snow and licked it.

  FOUR

  Eric pulled his sled toward his house. Before going inside, he glanced next door.

  The moving van was gone, and the garage door was closed. Everything looked dark . . . till someone lit a candle in the living room. And another and another. Soon the room was filled with a spooky glow.

  What was going on? Didn’t the old man have electricity?

  I saw lights this morning, Eric thought.

  Leaving his sled on the porch, Eric kicked his boots off inside the front door. He smelled German sausage. Yum!

  Eric’s mother was setting the dining room table. Grandpa was talking to his birds.

  Eric went to the kitchen to wash his hands. They were frosty from sledding.

  His mother came into the kitchen. “I’ve been thinking about inviting Mr. Tressler for supper sometime.”

  Grandpa turned away from the bird cages. “Who?”

  “Our new neighbor” Mrs. Hagel said.

  “Very thoughtful,” said Grandpa. “I’d like to meet the old fellow.”

  Eric dried his hands and hurried into the dining room. He didn’t know what to say. How could he tell his mother he was scared of Mr. Tressler?

  Eric’s mother brought in the steaming sausage, and potato salad mixed with caraway seeds.

  Eric’s grandfather chuckled. “I think those birds want a taste of sausage.”

  Eric pulled his chair out and sat down. Grandpa was bird-crazy.

  “Give them some caraway seeds instead,” Eric suggested.

  Before dessert, Eric’s mother brought out a handful of candles. She lit all of them. The dining room glowed with a magical, golden light.

  Eric stared at the candles. There were twelve. They reminded him of the light in Mr. Tressler’s spooky living room.

  “Only twelve days till Christmas,” Eric’s mother said. “I hope to finish my shopping this weekend.”

  Eric glanced at the candle in front of his plate. He hadn’t even started shopping. Oh well, there was plenty of time left.

  He daydreamed into the candlelight. Suddenly, the old man’s face popped out! It was the same scary face he’d seen that morning.

  Yikes! Eric rubbed his eyes.

  “Are you tired?” his mother asked.

  “No,” Eric said quickly. He didn’t want to be sent off to bed early. That would spoil his
plans. The plans to spy on the mystery man.

  FIVE

  After supper, Eric hurried to Dunkum’s house. The Christmas spelling list was ready.

  Eric gave the first word. “Spell yule.”

  Dunkum tried and missed. He left the “e” off the end. “I don’t get it,” he said.

  Eric held up a dictionary. “Find it in here.”

  Dunkum looked and looked. At last he said, “Here it is. It means you will. You will shouldn’t be on a Christmas spelling list.”

  “Not y-o-u’-l-l,” Eric said. “Yule is a Christmas word. Here, let me show you.” He found the word in the dictionary. Y-u-l-e. Eric let Dunkum read it.

  “Yule means Christmas?” asked Dunkum.

  Eric nodded. “In Germany, where I was born, people used to burn yule logs at Christmas. It’s a giant piece of firewood. Sometimes the whole trunk of a tree.”

  “Wow! The whole trunk?” said Dunkum.

  “Yep.”

  “How does it fit into the fireplace?” asked Dunkum.

  “Our fireplaces can’t hold a yule log, but in the old days they could. Now my mom lights candles instead.”

  Eric looked at the next word on the list. Candlelight. “I’ll give you a hint,” he said. “This word is two words put together. It’s a compound word.”

  First try, Dunkum spelled it right.

  Eric drilled his friend on all the words. When they came to mystery, Eric scratched his head. “I wonder why Miss Hershey put this word on the list.”

  “Maybe she knows about the first Christmas,” Dunkum replied.

  “What do you mean?” Eric asked.

  “Well, the first Christmas was a true mystery. Only God could have set it up.”

  Eric closed the dictionary. “Huh?”

  “For one thing, Joseph and Mary didn’t live in Bethlehem. But God knew way ahead of time that Jesus was gonna be born there.” Dunkum sat down beside Eric on the floor.

  “What else?” Eric said.

  “Jesus was God’s son—but he was also a man. That’s a good mystery for you,” said Dunkum.

  “Yeah,” said Eric. “You’re right.”

  “That’s not all,” said Dunkum. “The first Christmas was about presents—the best one of all. A baby boy named Jesus.”

  “Sounds like you really got this stuff down,” Eric said.