by Aine Dyer
Marley looked up and felt the need to move closer to touch this Christmas Present. He squeezed through two ghosts in front of him and tried silently to snatch a fig from the Spirit’s cloak, but accidentally grabbed a fistful of its robe and in a flash, he was moving through the darkness.
He heard the gregarious voice say, “Hurry up, Jacob!”
And then Marley stood in his old house on Lime Street facing Scrooge as he ate. He again was in his old bedroom - his death room - but it was hard to recognize as Marley seemed to think it darker than it had been.
“Bah humbug! Thank the bank for this so-called Christmas is almost over!” Scrooge said to no one.
“Ebenezer!” Marley yelled. But Scrooge was unaware of Marley‘s presence.
“He can’t hear,” the Spirit said who looked like a very old man now. “He’s never heard. At least you, Mr. Marley, because of your loving parents, were given the ability to hear even if you didn’t listen.”
“Which is why I can see you,“ Marley said.
“Yes, Mr. Marley.”
“Why are you showing me this? I already know Scrooge hates Christmas.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted to see? Where Mr. Scrooge is?” The Spirit answered.
“Yes, but without you I don’t know how to get here. To get home…,” Marley said. He saw that the Spirit was having trouble standing. And then, some strange unknown feeling came to Marley and made him ask a question that he had never thought of asking anytime before. “Do you need my help, Spirit?” He asked surprising even himself with his question.
“Yes. I am dying because it is almost midnight. I only get one day, it’s the best day, but only twenty-four hours of earth time. But since you have been so kind to ask me if I needed help, I will help you, Mr. Marley.”
“Thank you Christmas Present. I just need to find him. I need to see if I can speak with him.”
“I can do better than that, Mr. Marley. I…,” The Spirit was laying down and his breath lost some of its fullness. “I can help you save him,” was said with the last breath of Christmas Present sending Marley back to where the light had once been. He moved again with the rest of the gray ones. “And yourself too,” he thought he heard Christmas Present’s far away voice whisper a second after he returned. Marley cautiously reached into his pocket and placed the crystal in his hand. He saw that it was brighter and the skin on his hand around it had some pink to it.
Chapter 5
The Face of Death
November 23rd, 1840
Sometimes while he was roaming, he would dream and long-ago memories would bubble up from somewhere inside and he would relive meaningless moments he called his life. Once he drifted off dragging his feet along the hard dirt and fell asleep dreaming about his family. They sat together at dinner and ate, talking and laughing, but then he was jarred awake by the awful racket of another gray spirit screaming too close to him.
When he awoke he knew it was a leftover dream, because he wouldn’t ever want to dream about where he was in the gray world.
Marley turned to look at the strange phantom as his feet dragged his heavy burdens behind him. This couldn’t be Death as he thought of it. It just couldn’t be.
“If you are Death, why do you stay with me? I don’t understand, am I to die again? Haven’t your services already been rendered?” Abandoning himself to curiosity, Marley grabbed and yanked the tip of the cloak backwards and when it finally fell, a kind old man’s shimmering face stared back at Marley with familiar eyes.
“Robert??” Marley asked incredulously.
“Yes, it is me,” his brother said pulling the robe from around his face.
“Why…why are you here?” Marley asked.
“I’m here to help you.”
“Why?” Marley asked. It’s strange to think that stopping to speak with someone would be a normal everyday thing, but in this case Marley’s feet just trudged along dragging the heavy cash-boxes.
“Because I, too, had the same life you did. Albeit a much shorter one,” he said.
“You? No, Robert, you didn’t. You and father were so close.”
“No, Jacob. That’s only what you thought.”
Marley considered this for a moment and then finally said, “but I never helped you.”
“And I never helped you or mom and dad, either,” Robert said.
“Well, why not?” Marley had assumed this question would anger Robert but his brother answered with no malice in his voice.
“You were…are a very angry man, Jacob. I mean, what happened to you? The you that I remember was never angry. We spent hours together and you were always happy.”
Marley studied his brother for a moment with a frown. He tried to crack his neck to the right and left like he did in life but no bodily relief came. He had never contemplated his anger before. In fact, he had never thought he was angry, or mean or had any other human repelling trait. He just knew how to make money. “My world became money, Robert. Even now I want to check these cash-boxes every second to see if they’re full.”
“Is that why roaming is taking so long?“ Robert asked and then pointed to Marley’s chain. “There will never be anything in those except the emptiness of your life, Jacob.”
“How do you know what’s in them?“ Marley snarled at his brother sounding like a child.
“Because I have been here a long time,” said Robert, “And because I was very much like you except I worshipped money but never made any. So I have no cash-boxes but I have seen many like you, Jacob. And the longer you linger without redemption, these things,” Robert pointed to all of the metal that hung from him, “the heavier they will get. Filled with pride, ego and ignorance, I suppose,” Robert said picking up one of the cash-boxes and holding it for a minute before letting it crash loudly to the ground.
“Well, why is it that you think there are so many souls roaming and moaning? Well, I’ll tell you why,” Marley said before Robert could answer. At that moment he saw an adult male spirit punch another to grab one of his cash-boxes and try and rip it from him. “The reason is because God gave us the ability to think for ourselves. We don’t need anyone else to believe in. And if money is one’s God then so be it, it’s better than the drink or smoke.” Marley considered a memory of his life for a moment and continued, “never did I steal anything or kill anyone. So whom did I hurt? All of my contracts were straightforward with leaseholders and clients. There was no fraud of any kind.”
“Jacob, look around you. Do you like being here? I hate it here and I would never hurt anyone but since my only Sunday worship was the counting house, here I am privy to so much pain.”
“Well, I didn’t hurt anyone either. I guess God has a very interesting sense of humor.” They dragged on through the gray shades of sorrow, guilt, and anarchy until Robert broke the silence between them.
“What about Mr. Cratchit?”
Marley slowed his roam to a slow crawl. Bob Cratchit was not a name he would’ve even thought to use again. He tried to straighten up his chain as he spoke.
“Why, what about Bob Cratchit? We paid him didn’t we? He showed up, did work, and got paid. That’s why we called him an employee. You’ve obviously never had your own business, Robert, so how would you know?”
“I know that man was scorching hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter. And you belittled him for taking Christmas off. A holy day for that man.”
“When you run a business, Robert, do you know how much it costs to have an employee out for the day? Let alone getting paid for it?”
Robert looked irritated by Marley’s remark. “You are learning nothing are you, Jacob? Sometimes I’m surprised that the same parents raised us. How exactly are you planning on making that crystal brighter, brother?”
Marley opened his pocket to see the crystal looking tinier and dark… almost sick. He quickly looked away not wanting to think about it anymore. “I cannot stand around here debating my life with you, Robert, I have to find Scrooge. I
have to keep myself out of that fire! Can you please help me find him?”
Robert said nothing for a long time and they trudged along while Marley struggled to keep his cash-boxes from the hands of others.
“Come… I know how to find him.” Robert leaned down and hoisted Marley‘s cash-boxes into his arms making it easier for him to move. Marley stared at him blankly.
“Most normal people would say thank you, Jacob.”
Marley shook his head as of coming out of a sleep-induced stupor. “Thank you, Robert. I appreciate the help.”
Marley couldn’t tell how long they roamed. He thought they moved through many dimensions that were more grayer than the last until they stood on the other side of a piece of glass looking through at dreary old Lime Street in London. Marley saw the Scrooge and Marley name etched over the dark doorway. He looked at Robert then tried to push through the glass but Robert grabbed his chain which held him back.
“What are you doing?” Marley asked trying to get Robert to release him.
“Because I am afraid,“ Robert said. “I have never been this far.”
Marley stopped pulling to turn and look at his brother. “They can’t see us correct? Then what’s to be afraid of? We are already dead so what could happen?” Marley saw that the fear had not left Robert’s face. “Pull your cloak over your head and everyone will think you’re Death and run away.” When Robert heard this he smiled and pulled the cloak back over his head and, again, looked like Death.
Marley carefully pushed his hand through the transparent wall that separated the worlds. On the other side, his hand turned to smoky dust that was more transparent and sparkly, but almost hard to see. His fingers now had a spectral glow to them.
“Come on Robert, now is not the time to be scared! Besides humans are afraid of ghosts, remember?”
Marley grabbed his brother, closed his eyes, and jumped through the veil sending them both into the middle of Lime Street in front of the Scrooge and Marley Counting House.
When Marley opened his eyes, he was alarmed to see a large horse’s head coming at him and he cringed when the animal stopped to let a passenger out of a carriage right where Marley was standing.
The horse sensed something cold and a shiver ripped through its body before it continued on its way and Marley was left standing in the middle of an alleyway. He saw that Robert had landed at the door of his old office.
“How did you land there?” Marley asked incensed at what he had just been through.
Robert rolled his eyes. “Jacob! We must be fast. I’m not sure how long we have here,” he said gliding through the door.
It was a damp and dreary day in London and the raw cold, being tried and true to itself, seeped in through every spot where it could to ruin the heat’s day. And the look on Bob Cratchit‘s face reflected it. When the two ghosts floated through the front door sucking what little warmth there was from the room, Bob Cratchit shivered so much that his hands couldn’t keep inking the numbers. The flame of the candle on his desk was close-to-death and Bob Cratchit cowered when he looked at it.
“More cold,” the thin man whimpered and turned quietly to edge open the door that separated him and his boss. But there was no warmth in that back office and Marley knew that all too well.
“Cratchit!” a shriveled, wretched voice called from the other room. “Do you need something? Close that door!” Scrooge cackled as if somehow Cratchit had just appeared to him.
“N…n…no,” Cratchit shivered out a response.
“Do you see now?” Robert said.
“Yes. I see now,” Marley said. Lord God, why hadn’t he ever seen this man?
He and Robert continued into Scrooge’s office. Scrooge looked up when his old partner entered the room and he seemed to stare right through Marley as he uttered “Humbug,” like he could sense someone there but he couldn’t see anything.
Scrooge wrapped himself tight with his coat and kept marking down numbers here and there. There was a tiny knock on Scrooge’s door and it creaked open a little more.
“Y…e….s?” Scrooge said slowly and angrily.
“Sir, would you by chance have a light? My candle has blown out. I don’t know what happened…,” Bob Cratchit said looking intently at his candle.
“Wasting time and money for the re-lighting of a candle. Don’t you see that I have the auditors coming tomorrow? I have to reconcile these old accounts…,” Scrooge said barely looking at the man who worked for him. He took his flame and lit Cratchit’s tiny candle. Marley wondered if he had even noticed how small Cratchit’s candle actually was. Cratchit watched as a new flame reignited the dead one and smiled as if he had just been given the best gift he could have ever gotten. He left the room opening the door the slightest bit and then disappeared into the darkness on the other side.
“Cratchit, I want those rental reports by the end of the day!” Scrooge sneered at the closing door.
“Yes, sir,” the tiny voice answered but then went silent beneath the frantic sound of scribbling.
“Is that how you treated Mr. Cratchit, Jacob?” Robert asked Marley without condescension. Marley ignored Robert’s question and studied Scrooge for those few moments. He moved to stand right behind the old man so he could see which books had so much of his attention.
“Yes, Robert. That’s how I treated Cratc—, I mean Mr. Cratchit,” he said absentmindedly.
Robert interrupted Marley’s scattered thoughts “This may sound overly simple to you but is that how you would have liked to be treated if you were in that position? How cold is it where you now reside, Jacob?”
If Marley could’ve let out a long breath of despair just then he would have. He felt what little soul he had left get crushed inside of him and it was clearly his own fault. He knew he had been angry but cruel was a word he didn’t normally associate with himself.
“Cruelty was not something our parents taught us, Jacob,” Robert said as if reading Marley’s mind.
“Cratchit,” said Marley in a deep, serious voice, “is not who I am concerned with right now, Robert. It’s Ebenezer.”
Scrooge sat frowning over his accounts.
“Marley,” Scrooge said into the cold air with an even colder dry voice. “Marley made mistakes here.” And he began to erase numbers. “These should be more…” he mumbled under his breath.
“Jacob, our time here is short,” Robert said.
Marley stared at Scrooge with disdain and could feel the anger growing uncontrollably inside of him. “You miserable liar!” Marley gurgled using his anger to suck all the warmth out of the room. He tried to lunge at his old partner but Robert interrupted him.
“Jacob, grab my robe!” Robert yelled.
Marley didn’t move. Robert quickly shoved his arm in front of Marley’s face and when Marley swatted it out of the way, they touched and both ended up back in the gray world of the moans and groans.
Chapter 6
God Bless Us, Everyone!
December 24th, 1840
“My brother, it will be Christmas Day again and we must visit the Ghost of Christmas Present,” Robert said moving through the gray shadows in front of Marley. Marley had noticed that since the cash boxes had gotten heavier (still with nothing in them) the tiny light of the crystal was close to nonexistent. He nervously checked his pocket again.
“The light is almost out,” mumbled Marley sadly.
“Come, let’s visit the light and see if it can help,” Robert said. They glided to the edge of the dark horizon with the other grays and waited.
The light this time was brighter than before and out of it emerged a child - a toddler really – but its cloak was small with young vegetables and other food flowing from it and it granted a babyish smile to all of those it greeted.
The child stopped in front of Marley and stretched out its hand. “You must come with me now, Jacob Marley, and see how much work must be done.”
Marley nodded at the Christmas Present who seemed to age right in
front of him. He touched the robe and all at once his he was filled with relief and it felt like his soul had been reassembled.
He shimmered through time with the Spirit and finally arrived in Marley’s old living quarters where Scrooge sat in front of a meager fire. “I wanted to remind you of who Scrooge is, Jacob Marley. This will not be an easy change and you will need information that you don’t even know about yet but you must persevere if you are going to be successful,” the Spirit said, now a young boy of about six sparkling next to Marley.
Scrooge shivered near the fire and surveyed the mostly darkened room “Bah humbug,” he muttered in between sips of what Marley knew had to be tasteless soup.
“Where did he get that phrase?” Marley said.
“I have no idea! But it’s better than taking the Lord’s name in vain,” the Spirit answered. Marley bowed his head and said nothing but looked at Scrooge alone and sad with the only light in the room from a small candle.
“I have others to for you to see,” said the Spirit. “Don’t let go,” the now nine-year-old boy replied and Marley smiled and never wanted to let go again. They landed on a darkened street in a small corner of London at a house with such bright lights that Marley had to shield his eyes. Still touching the Spirit’s robe, they traveled inside and Marley couldn’t help but keep smiling because it smelled like Christmas day when he was a child. Cinnamon and pie and turkey with spices and all the things that made Christmas a most warm time of the year even for the gray ones. With his hand still on the Spirit, he noticed that although the room was bright, by the look on the woman’s face standing in front of him, it wasn’t as warm as originally thought.
The woman was of middle years and largely pregnant. Marley heard a voice that he recognized as Bob Cratchit’s and saw him burst into the room almost scaring Mrs. Cratchit who was tending to a very small turkey.
“Oh Lord, Bob Cratchit! You almost frightened the baby right out of me!”