1 Christmas Eve

CLASSIC STARTS Great Expectations Retold from the Charles Dickens orginal

CHAPTER 1 Christmas Eve I was born Philip Pirrip. As a little boy, I found it hard to say my name. So I became Pip, and I've been called that ever since. My mother, father, and five brothers all died when I was very young. On a day like today, when I'm sitting by their tombstones, I imagine my mother with freckles and my father with curly black hair. Being an orphan would have been worse had I not lived with my sister, Mrs. Joe Gargery. She was twenty years older than me and married to a blacksmith. Our house was next to the forge, where Joe kept a great fire going to work with his metal at any time of day.

It was Christmas Eve. A cold breeze rushed over the marsh, and the sea crashed in the distance. My teeth chattered. My body shivered. I missed my parents. Alone by their graves in the churchyard, the sounds of the wind and water scared me. I sat down and started to cry. "Be quiet!" a man shouted. "Stay still or you'll be sorry." I looked up to find a scary-looking man. He wore rough gray pants and an old rag for a hat. A giant prison cuff was wrapped around his leg. Wet, muddy, and limping, he glared at me. "P-p-please don't hurt me," I begged. "What's your name? Quickly!" "Pip." "Point to where you live!" I had just lifted my arm when suddenly the world was upside down! The man had me by the heels and shook me hard. A piece of bread dropped to the ground from my pocket. Moments later the church was right-side up again. "Where are your parents?" He licked his lips.

"There and there." I tipped my head to either side as I held tight to a tombstone. "Who do you live with if your parents are buried here?" He stepped forward, grabbed me by the shoulders, and tilted me backward. "My sister, sir, and her husband, the blacksmith, Joe Gargery." A glint came into his eye. "The next question is whether or not I'm going to hurt you." His fingers gripped my arms tightly. "You know what a file is, right?" I nodded. "And you know what food is, right?" I nodded again. "You're going to get me a file, and you're going to get me some food. You'll bring them both to me at the old shipyard tomorrow morning— or else." He released me from his grip. "You'll remember every bit of this conversation, right?" "Y-yes, sir." "Good," he said as he walked away. "Now get going."

Too afraid to move, I watched as he limped toward the church wall. Just before he crawled over, he looked back. One glance from him sent me running home as fast as I could. Joe was sitting alone in the kitchen when I returned, his blacksmith shop closed for the night. He said, as sweet and as calm as ever, "Your sister's out looking for you. She's been and gone a dozen times and worked up a temper." My sister burst into the room then, screaming, "Where have you been, you rascal?" I said, "The churchyard." "I walked by there twice and I didn't see you!" She didn't wait for an answer. "You might as well have stayed there for all the time I've wasted looking for you! Sit in the corner while I make dinner." My stomach growled with hunger, but I didn't dare eat the slice of bread she gave me for dinner. I had to save food for the man. When my sister wasn't looking, I quickly put the bread down my pant leg. When Joe saw it was gone, he made a face. My sister said, "What on earth is the matter

now? Why do you look so funny?" "You can't have chewed that bread, Pip," Joe said. "Have you been eating too fast again?" She pulled me up by the ear. "Sure as I have two feet your stomach will ache. You're taking some medicine." A spoon was forced into my mouth. I swallowed the foul mixture. My tummy hurt instantly. She said, "With that down you, it's time to stir the Christmas pudding. Come over here." "May I take my coat upstairs first, Mrs. Joe?" I asked. "If you must," my sister said. "But hurry." A cold wind crept up behind me as I slipped upstairs to my attic bedroom. Its howling sound reminded me of the stranger's voice. I tried to put his threats out of my mind as I hid the bread. I didn't waste any time getting back downstairs. Picking up the big copper spoon, I stirred the pudding. After about an hour I joined my sister and Joe in the living room. "Warm up by the fire," she ordered, "and then