Rennick’s Stocking-Sneak Game — High above the cold brick hearth, Rennick lined up three peppermint buttons on the mantel and whispered the rules of his brand-new game: sneak one button into each stocking without making the garland sneeze. Read the full story →
High above the cold brick hearth, Rennick lined up three peppermint buttons on the mantel and whispered the rules of his brand-new game: sneak one button into each stocking without making the garland sneeze. The holly smelled sharp and green. The wooden train above him clicked softly as its wheels cooled from a test run. Rennick had never leaned that far over the edge before, so he pressed one curled shoe against the stone and told his knees, “No rattling, please.”
First button: plink, into the striped stocking. Second button: ploop, into the dotted one. Rennick grinned so hard his cheek nearly bumped his finger. Then the starry stocking gave a tiny wiggle, and a button popped back out—straight onto the mantel beside him.
The stockings had invented the game too. They were tossing the buttons back whenever Rennick made a face. So he crossed his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and heard three soft thumps of stocking laughter. If you ever spot a crooked grin above three hanging stockings, you may have caught the next round of Rennick’s game, high above the cold brick hearth.
