by Aine Dyer
Dead Flowers
December 25th, 1836
Marley had trouble opening his eyes when a far-off familiar melody woke him. He twisted his face in the dirt and listened.
O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear,
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel,
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
Then beyond that he could hear the thrashing and moaning of many people sounding as if they were in distress. He laid for a long time face down in the dirt in front of a simple gravestone that had his name, date of death, and at the bottom, someone had etched the Psalm 49 verse 14 in small letters. Marley lifted his head and stared at the last part of the verse.
… their form will decay in Sheol…
He traced the words with the white dry fingers of his right hand while his left still held his crystal.
He tried to lift himself up and but he was so heavy from all of his metal that he had trouble moving. He fumbled for a moment remarking, “Ghosts always look like they are floating. Shouldn’t I be lighter?” He grabbed the stone and hoisted himself up and now saw the few other markers around him. A large memorial stone with the words “MARLEY” etched into it rose behind the three more ornate stones than his.
“Mother and father,” he mumbled kneeling down next to the first two. He waited for a moment to have a memory of the last time he had seen them both but none came because, and Marley knew this, he could not remember the last time he had seen them. He feared that the last memory of them was when he was a boy. The gravestone glared at him with the names of his parents and their birth and death dates. Their deaths… had he not even attended their funerals? It was almost as if he could hear the stones singing in a chorus of cold, rocky voices: Here lies Jacob Marley’s mother and father. Unloved by the son that they loved so intently.
Next to his parents was the third stone. “Robert,” Marley stammered grateful to access the memory of his and his brother’s last meeting. It was just before his father had sent Robert off to finance school and he recalled Robert’s happiness and excitement of going. Or had that been his excitement as now things seemed muddled. He stood, again with the help of his brother’s headstone, and moved back to view what he guessed was now his new home.
He knew this cemetery well. He had visited many times as he had clients who had trusted him to make final arrangements for them and he had often buried people close to where he stood now. The landscape of the cemetery shifted every once in a while with new graves and new ghosts by their gravestones, and then fire or a door of light opened to some, but many, like him, became gray and lingered. He could see the blurred outlines of what he guessed were living people milling about and crying. He also saw that not one spirit was still. Once they were made gray, they had to keep moving and groaning and moaning. And no one smiled because it was just sadness and there was nothing to smile about. Marley opened his hand, looked at the slightly glowing crystal, frowned and quickly placed the crystal securely in his breast pocket.
“I have to keep myself out of that fire,“ his voice gurgled from his throat. And then he looked up and noticed that Death was waiting for him. “Haven’t you done your position?“ Death pointed upwards and floated off the ground effortlessly. Marley frowned.
“Spirit,“ Marley spurted, “your skeleton body is quite apart from mine in density. Do you not see all of the metal I have?” Death floated back down to him, hovered, and held out its robe for Marley to touch. At once Marley lifted off the ground, and thoughts of floating went through him and he began to lightly rise. But the spirit pulled his robe from Marley’s touch and he and all his metal tumbled to the hard ground. “I guess I’ll have to walk,“ Marley mumbled as he hoisted himself up and trudged slowly forward with his parade of metal behind him. He touched his pocket noting that his crystal was still in its new home. Death drooped at Marley’s apparent defeat and floated alongside of him.
“Have mercy on me spirit, for I do not know what I’m doing. I don’t know anything – this place, these spirits, and I don’t know where to find Ebenezer Scrooge. Let alone save his life.“
Save his life to keep myself out of that fire.
How was he, Jacob Marley, supposed to save a life when his life had apparently been so meaningless? Why hadn’t he gone to the light? He had followed the rules hadn’t he? He followed all the contracts. Now he looked at spirit after spirit floating in the wind going where? All of them were weighed down by their own personal cash-boxes so there was no escape. All they did was moan and groan with sorrow for what? Their meaningless life?
“No intent,“ he muttered angrily lumbering along looking at the aimless spirits. But, as if Death had seen his thought, he pointed a bony finger at Marley‘s pocket and the crystal inside of it. He checked to take a look but when he saw the change his fragile soul sank, as the light in the crystal seemed ever so tiny now that it was getting harder and harder to see. Death noticed this and pointed forcefully forward. Well, Marley thought, I know I have someone to walk with me in my misery. Maybe this could be his eternity. He would take it over the fire anytime.
He shuddered as he caught the thoughts of many other spirits as he walked. There were no thoughts of life, only death, misery, regret, and hellfire. Warm thoughts, as you can imagine, we’re not natural to a man such as Marley. Money itself only provided a counterfeit layer of warmth but nothing like a human touch could provide.
Death, noticing that Marley slumped and could find nothing good in the air, touched Marley’s back with his icy hand and then Marley saw that they traveled again. The gray landscape was gone as sunlight flickered through trees that dripped with icicles. They had come into a familiar snow-covered yard and Marley walked up to his house like he did when he was eleven-years-old. Death floated next to him as they peered into the front porch window seeing his mother tending to a turkey in the kitchen. Then with Death’s icy hand still on his back, they were inside and he saw the familiar walls of his house that were hung by living green with bright gleaming cherries in clusters throughout. Crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light and Marley had to adjust his eyes because the grayness had dulled them.
Marley gasped as an older man, his father, a large and boisterous fellow assisted Marley’s mother, Mary, who smiled at her husband’s child-like Christmas excitement.
“Michael could you please call Robert and Jacob? They should be here helping us.”
Michael let out a deep laugh. “Mary, you know when there’s snow on the ground those two boys are busy moving through it. You should see how fast they go down that hill! They do go fast. Unbelievably fast.” He stood for a moment and looked like he was focused on pictures in his mind but then he smiled at his wife and said, “The whole house looks and smells delicious.”
“Thank you, just a small way to honor Jesus on his birthday.”
“And honor him we will,” Michael said smiling. He walked to the door humming Hark! The Herald Angels Sing. “I’ll go get them.”
Marley couldn’t help remembering how he and Robert were always together when it snowed, crashing into one another on their sleds then laughing so hard that they couldn’t move.
Just then, Marley saw something…or was it someone in the corner of the room going seemingly unnoticed by his parents. Death, who Marley had forgotten was next to him, again stretched out his arm and pointed it toward the corner. Marley shook his head at the gesture. “I, good spirit, will follow you.”
Death’s hood drooped in disappointment and it looked like it actually let out a long breath. For a moment, Marley tried to look into the spirit’s robe to see its face. Why would a spirit as important as Death be hanging around? There would be no other death from Marley that he knew of so what would be the point of staying with him? Marley lifted his hand to try to move the phantom’s hood but the spirit was too quick for him and floated away towards the corne
r. Marley followed.
In the corner of the room Marley recognized the Spirit who had touched him during his trial but now saw it in all of its glory. It had long white hair but resembled a child as much as it resembled an old woman. It flurried like it was viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave the phantom the appearance of receding from whatever dimension where Marley now found himself. Under the white long hair was a wrinkleless face and its skin was of a warm rose color. It had muscular arms as if very strong. Its tunic was made out of the purest white bound by a shiny glittery belt and trimmed at the bottom with summer flowers. From the crown on his head sprung a bright clear jet of light and when Marley looked down he saw that it held a hat in between its arm and body. The belt glittered in one part and then another while the spirit floated in and out of this dimension piece by piece – one arm here, one arm there, one foot here, one leg there, dissolving and reappearing.
The Spirit reached below and pulled a flower off the bottom of its dress and offered it to Marley. The flower flickered from visible to invisible and its petals danced through all sorts of colors from blue to purple to yellow to orange to red and back again. “Take the flower,” it said to them. Its voice was soft and tender and also seemed to move in and out as if it had been broadcast at a long distance. Marley did as it said without question.
And then the room spun around in front of him and when it stopped he was in the same room but in another time. Now the room was warm and the fire had heat and Marley could smell delicious Christmas spices and his mother’s cooking. He was home! It was just in that moment where happiness had been with him, before he realized it had somehow dissipated in his life.
“Here they are,” Michael Marley announced as the door burst open and the boys tumbled in.
If Marley had a heartbeat right then it would’ve stopped. “Robert…,” he said as his voice trailed off into a whisper of sadness. He stared in wonder at his eleven-year-old self and his thirteen-year-old brother.
The two boys ran to their mom and hugged her and she said, “You’re going to get me all wet! Now stop. Go get changed for dinner.”
“We are changed!” Robert announced. “We went out like this.”
Marley‘s mother wasn’t bothered. Instead, she gave them both looks of joy and began to shout out orders about what needed to be done while they all talked in expectation of the evening’s meal. Marley saw himself looking intently at the turkey which he remembered his father had brought home the day before.
“Mother, how much did this bird cost?” He asked.
“Oh, Jacob! Why do you concentrate on cost so much! We paid cash for the bird. Don’t bother with that so much,” his father answered.
Marley’s soul filled with sadness and he let go of the flower and the world returned to gray with the room turning empty and cold.
“How…why did you show me that, Spirit?” Marley asked despondently.
“Because that’s what you needed to see,” the Spirit said. “And because I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
Marley studied the Spirit for a moment. “Spirit of the past, can you help me see something. A time…a time when Ebenezer Scrooge came for Christmas.”
The Spirit delicately removed another flower from the bottom of its dress and held it up and said, “Ebenezer is still one of the living. A request for the living is unique. Touch the flower,” it said, and with that Marley’s world moved again, the cold was gone, and he was in the warm kitchen with Death and the Spirit. This time his parents were a little older.
It was Christmas once again, and his father and mother were sitting at the table when three young men came in. One Marley knew as his younger self, one was Robert, and the other was Marley’s best friend, Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Ebenezer,” Marley whispered.
The three sat down with Mr. and Mrs. Marley.
“Merry Christmas, Ebenezer,” Mr. Marley said.
Ebenezer said nothing, except “Hmmm, what has Christmas brought you, sir?” Mr. Marley looked at Jacob and Robert strangely.
“I don’t understand your question, Ebenezer,” Mr. Marley said.
“He doesn’t understand Christmas, Father,” Marley intervened.
“Doesn’t understand Christmas? Well, Ebenezer, Christmas was when the Christ child was born – as I’m sure you know - and this brings us light, joy, togetherness, peace, and faith that we will be all right. No matter what,” Mr. Marley said.
“But no money,” Ebenezer said taking a roll and buttering it.
“Yes, money,” laughed Mr. Marley. “Our Lord sustains us just fine. Look around at my wonderful house! But I also think the things I just mentioned are things that can’t be purchased.”
“Pardon my disagreement, sir,” Ebenezer said boldly. “Money can buy peace. Is there no quiet when you buy a princely mansion and surround yourself with a well-built wall? Money brings joy and togetherness – just look at the Fezziwigs. Every year he must spend a fortune on that party before Christmas! And faith, Mr. Marley, I have faith that the more money I make will produce more money for me. If that’s the spirit of Christmas, then yes it is a merry Christmas! Right, Jacob?”
“That’s right,” Marley heard his younger self-say. Marley’s ghost smiled at himself in pride.
Suddenly, the flower that Marley was holding dried up and fell into ash on the floor. The Spirit glared at him.
“You are not ready yet, Jacob Marley,” the Spirit whispered calmly in disapproval.
“Yes I am, Spirit!” Marley raged looking at the dead remains of the flower. The phantom began to fade away and desperation overtook Marley. “Spirit, this isn’t about me! I need to find Scrooge!”
Shortly later Marley was planted back in front of his new home. Lifting his face from the dirt he heard whispers of not ready echoing through the grayness and when he peeked in his pocket a slightly darker crystal met his gaze.
A bell tolled loudly in the distance signifying that Christmas Day was over and suddenly Marley was yanked from his position and pulled along to roam with all of the other gray spirits in limbo.
Chapter 4
The Christmas Present
December 24th, 1837
Sounds of Silent Night reverberated in the distance while Marley leaned against his headstone spinning the crystal through his fingers. The light inside the stone came and went but seemed to Marley to dim each time he looked at it.
“There is no light in this place,” his voice gurgled somewhere from within his being.
Then he noticed his stillness and looking around, saw that others milled in and out of the cemetery but did not have to continually move.
“Why aren’t we moving?” he said to Death who was floating near him.
Death did his usual, pointed and began to move in that direction. Marley got up and followed.
“Humbug,” he said out loud. Humbug? Where had he gotten that word? The only one who said that was Scrooge. “Wait…if I said that it must mean that Scrooge might be close by!” He yelled. He dragged his ornaments on the ground as he tried to run.
Death stopped him and again pointed towards the horizon.
“I must search for Scrooge. I’m running out of time!” he yelled.
The thought of Scrooge being dead invaded his mind and frightened him. If he was dead, he was sure he’d see Scrooge standing right next to him for only a moment because Marley would be whisked away immediately to the heat of the fire. All he wanted to do was find the old man because how was he supposed to save him if he couldn’t even find him? And if he couldn’t find him, he couldn’t save himself.
He had to find a way to return to Lime Street in London and Death was the only one who could help him. But all Death was doing was pointing at the horizon to nothing. Nothing but grayness. That is, until he saw it.
A huge, white light exploded in the direction of where Death was pointing and kept pulsing with beams jutting out into the sky. Marley shielded his eyes because that it was brighter than any sun he
could remember while alive. As the light lingered, Marley noticed that it still did not dim, it was just as bright as the first time he had seen it. Somehow he was drawn to it and was not able to stop himself from being pulled toward it.
“What is this?“ He asked knowing that Death would not answer him. Other gray ones raced towards the light screaming something about salvation.
“The Christmas Present,” he heard far away on the wind.
When they finally reached the horizon he saw what he could only imagine as thousands and thousands of other gray spirits floating and waiting.
Then vines of ivy erupted from the light and slid out all around the ground beneath Marley’s feet. A very large and old spirit that looked like a jolly man walked right out of the light and into the crowd. He was dressed in a long green robe with thick fur that didn’t completely cover his chest but covered from his stomach to his knees gently stopping over his bare feet. On his head was a holly wreath set here and there with shining icicles. He carried a glowing horn of plenty that he used to sprinkle water out and about into the crowd. With the spirit’s arrival, Marley could smell Christmas Day pine and cinnamon. There was food all over the man’s coat. Now the smells switched to the ancient woods and cinnamon tea bringing Marley happily back again to his Christmases as a child.
The Spirit’s eyes were clear and kind and his gregarious voice rose above the moaning as if it was somewhere from deep within the earth itself.
“Earthbound gray ones!” the Spirit shouted and the moaning stopped. “I am the ghost of Christmas Present and I bring you good tidings of great joy!” he erupted with laughter.
Marley needed to get close to the Spirit to touch his robe and taste some of the beautiful food. He saw that a small fraction of grays bowed their heads. And Marley, pulled by some distant memory that he couldn’t quite reach, bowed his head as well.
“Raise your heads and be redeemed!“ Christmas Present yelled after saying a prayer for them.