Saving Mr. Scrooge

by Aine Dyer

  “I, too, am complete,” said Marley, who could barely see Scrooge over the tall stack of accounts.

  “Would you care for a drink to celebrate our completion?” Scrooge said.

  “Yes,” Marley said standing up and stretching his body upwards. “That was a long few weeks.”

  “Yes,” Scrooge said and produced a bottle of scotch from behind a bookcase. He poured half a glass into a square highball and gently handed it to Marley.

  They cheered each other and took a long sip.

  “I got news today that old Fezziwig died. He was a confused man,” Scrooge said holding up the glass to study the bourbon.

  “A good man who didn’t take his work serious enough,” Marley said, “had he, he could’ve had a bigger shop than we do now. When’s the service? You will surely go I suspect.”

  “There will be a service and a burial. He was a popular man and I’m sure it will be a popular event,” Scrooge said without emotion.

  “You should go,” Marley said, “his wife was decent to you.”

  “I don’t want to see that old woman. Nice, she was, but what did that do for her?”

  “Fezziwig will get a large tombstone,” Marley said with indifference.

  “His wife should keep the money for herself. Fezziwig didn’t care about any of those things. Of course, he’ll be buried at Bunhill Fields, and I can’t say where a large tombstone would go.”

  Marley cringed at the memory of him being so indifferent to a man’s passing. He reached the veil near the cemetery and stood for a moment watching. Bright spectral light clusters glided around the quiet graves unaware that Marley was watching them. He wondered… it couldn’t be Christmas Day yet so he could cross the veil and if he just put his hand through…he saw a part of his hand disappear then he walked through and began to search the cemetery.

  He knew Fezziwig’s stone would probably be a large one and he dragged himself up and down the hills and in between above-ground crypts and stones that were very close together. Finally, he came upon the Fezziwig plot and Scrooge had been correct, it was the largest monument in the whole cemetery. There were two large statues at the top of a large stone base dancing. A woman, overweight and smiling, in the arms of her husband who wore a smile that emitted such joy. Marley stared at the smile between them. There was never a time in his life that a smile like that had ever graced his face.

  “Mr. Fezziwig, are you here?” Marley said looking up at the stones. He felt rather foolish for a moment when he didn’t get an answer.

  Maybe this was a bad idea he thought.

  He waited for a long time in anticipation but nothing came. In his nervousness, he stupidly peeked at the crystal in his pocket, but he only saw a tiny shred of light in a measly glow making him close the pocket quickly.

  “They won’t come,” a whispering, icy voice said behind him.

  Marley turned quickly around to see a ghost. Its face faded in and out and each time the skin wasted away more and more making Marley shudder. Marley stared into blood red eyes.

  “How do you know that?” Marley asked studying the man slowly from his wrinkled face to his drooping, broken knees. “Do you know them?” Thoughts of fear invaded his mind as trickles of whispers flooded the space with the word ‘no’.

  Marley had not heard these strange whispers before and something about them made him uneasy.

  “Yes, I have met them,” he said swirling around Marley. “And I know where you can find them.”

  “Where?” Marley asked wearily. He noticed that the strange ghost starred at the pocket on his coat.

  “What is that that you have, sir?” The ghost’s face was now dangerously close to Marley’s making him flinch back in fear.

  “It is mine and that’s what it is,” Marley said backing away. Now he could see that the phantom morphed in and out of being a snake to human, human to snake and flew around Marley violently until he could no longer keep his eye on it. It blocked Marley’s exit every time he tried to move.

  Marley grabbed his chain and flung it from around his waist trying to strike the phantom, and when his metal hit the ghost, the apparition cracked into pieces and vanished into the air. A guttural scream erupted into the darkness causing Marley to drop his chain and cover his ears. Shadows of the scream rippled through the grayness until Marley could hear it no more. He backed away, his head attempting to look all around for anything else that might be coming.

  He felt the energy of the crystal still in his pocket (but didn’t dare open it) when he heard something above him that sounded like two rocks crushing together. He looked up to see the statues of Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig slowly start to move. The rocks moved for a moment then out of them came Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig’s spirits, dancing and laughing. In a moment there were couples all around Marley spinning and dancing with the Fezziwigs. He stood and watched them dance all around him, shimmering in the darkness to music he could barely hear.

  Marley tried to catch the attention of Mr. Fezziwig. “Mr. Fezziwig, I would like…,” was all Marley could get out as they whirled by. He waited until they came around again. “Mr. Fezziwig!” Marley yelled. The music combined with the swishing of the women’s skirts made it almost impossible for anyone to hear Marley’s feeble voice.

  Mr. Fezziwig looked right at him when they came around again and this time he and his wife stopped (much, I think, to her dismay). “Hello there. I daresay that you look familiar to me. Have we met before?” Mr. Fezziwig said.

  “Yes,” Marley said. “I am the one with whom Ebenezer Scrooge worked after his employment with you.”

  “Jacob Marley!” Mr. Fezziwig surveyed Marley for a quick moment and then frowned noticing the chain around his waist and the metal on the ground. “I see you and Scrooge were very similar.” He looked at his wife for a moment and saw she was also frowning. “A little more greedy than the rest of us. Life is not measured by how my you own is it, Mr. Marley?”

  Marley was having a hard time with the word ‘greedy’. It was, after all, just a level of personal security.

  “I see you don’t believe in that word,” Mr. Fezziwig said somehow sensing Marley’s thoughts. Marley had not been prepared for a lecture. “Now why do you disturb my dancing with my beautiful wife?”

  “So you remember Ebenezer?” Marley asked.

  “Ebenezer Scrooge!” Mr. Fezziwig roared. “Until this past moment, I had not heard that name in so long.” He smiled and looked at his wife. “You remember Ebenezer, Right Alba?” Mrs. Fezziwig nodded her head and Marley was sure he saw her smile. But smile about Scrooge? He wondered briefly if there was another in Mr. Fezziwig’s knowledge by that name.

  “Poor Ebenezer lost his way. He began to question some of the business dealings at Fezziwig and Co. and started to ask me why I did the things I did.” Mr. Fezziwig looked like he was lost in another place.

  “How so, sir?” Marley asked.

  “He wondered why I gave away money,” said Mr. Fezziwig with a slight laugh.

  “But you seem to have so much of it. How could you give it away?” Marley asked.

  “I had so much, Mr. Marley, because I gave so much of it away. Of course I kept some for myself to provide for my family and live as I saw fit because the Lord says to keep some but giving it away was my mission, sir. And Ebenezer questioned that.” He saw that Marley’s face looked confused. “You and Ebenezer, I’m supposing, did not learn that lesson from your parents, or church, or in school and look at you, Mr. Marley, protecting those cash boxes the way you did in life. Scrooge became very angry and bitter after a while in my employment. I remember him being happy! He was so happy at that last Christmas party he and Belle attended, remember Alba? But after that when I promoted him and he got to really see how my business worked, he advised me in his youthful ignorance that I should stop giving and I, of course, laughed and told him no. Do you see all these people that dance around us? They are just some of the people I helped and we loved each other so much that we gather in Heav
en together. Once a year on Christmas Eve we gather here and try and spread generous spirit to the gray ones. Would you like to dance with us Mr. Marley? It might free you of your cash-boxes for a few moments so you can give freely of yourself.”

  Marley was just about to answer with a swift “no” when a breathtakingly beautiful spirit of a woman appeared from Mr. Fezziwig’s right and took Marley‘s hand.

  “My daughter, Stella, Mr. Marley so be careful!” Mr. Fezziwig laughed and began to twirl again with his wife. Checking his pocket to make sure his crystal was still safe, he cautiously placed his hand on the girl’s waist and began to spin. Her smile penetrated Marley’s soul and he felt a longing to be near her. A memory of learning to dance flashed through his mind as he looked down at his feet and noticed he was no longer dressed in his grayness but his Sunday waistcoat and pants. The wrinkles had receded in his hands and they had that pink color now. He laughed and his voice sounded like the one he had when he was twenty. Marley was spinning and the girl was laughing and he felt so light. Light enough that he could float right up…right up with Fezziwig and his family and say goodbye to the grayness forever. But you must know that wasn’t how it worked. Far off in some strange distance, Marley heard the church bells ring that Christmas Day was upon him and slowly Fezziwig and his family begin to fade and travel upwards and Marley began to sink with his gray wrinkles returning finally landing on the cold gray ground of the graveyard. He watched as they all floated away except for Mr. Fezziwig, who was now in front of Marley.

  “I’m trying to save Ebenezer from this afterlife, Mr. Fezziwig.” Marley said.

  “Well, if I can help Scrooge in any way, I will be happy to do it.” And he vanished leaving only the memory of him and his family behind as the music dissipated. Marley sat on the cold ground sobbing because he finally understood some of what he had missed.

  Chapter 9

  The Watch

  December 25th, 1841

  Marley was in trouble. He assumed he had broken the rules and now the pull from the Christmas Spirit yanked him forcibly towards the horizon, his tethered metal clattering loudly behind him. The force was so strong that it dragged him through the crowd of gray spirits right up to where the Christmas Present was seated and deposited Marley on his backside at the foot of the Spirit’s chair.

  Christmas Present, who was now a man in his forties, smiled gregariously down at him.

  "Hello Jacob! So glad you came to see me tonight!” a booming voice echoed right through him and out into the crowd.

  Marley gathered himself up and stood rather wobbly in front of the Spirit mumbling an unrecognizable greeting towards him and then he bowed his head in shame.

  “Jacob Marley, you are late, my friend. We have much to do! Here, have a fig!”

  Warm Christmas spices flooded Marley's senses as he instinctively reached for a fig on the Spirit's cloak that sent them both spiraling into a bright light. Then Marley and the Spirit stood in the living room of a house that Marley didn’t recognize. The small row house that had been overwhelmed by as many Christmas decorations as one could fit. Long-used candles brightened the room as red and green holly decorated a fireplace whose embers glowed with the happiness of being bright orange for most of the day. It was the end of Christmas dinner and the couple had retired to the living room to enjoy the beautiful Christmas tree adorned with homemade ornaments. The sound of Christmas hymns sung by carolers out in the street was faint and could just be heard. A man sat with a woman on the couch and Marley stared at his face slowly remembering where he had once see him.

  “Fred!" Marley gasped upon remembering.

  “Yes, Fred and Jean Ainsley." The Spirit said.

  “How did you know?” Marley asked.

  “How did I Know?" the Spirit chortled. "How did I know? Because I know everything! Now watch.”

  “That turkey was delicious!” Fred’s wife Jean declared while surveying her husband’s face to see if he agreed.

  “I am stuffed, my love!” Fred stated back. Marley could see no resemblance to Scrooge in the nephew, his face ruddy and handsome and his eyes sparkled, and when he inhaled on a small pipe his breath exhaled with smoke.

  “Yes I know, Fred, you get stuffed every year,” she answered and then let out a tiny squeak of a happy laugh.

  “That’s because your food is so delicious!” he said with tremendous joy. They sat in silence for a few moments watching the ashes of the fire continue to pop with small sparks before he continued. “I have always thought of Christmas time, when it comes around every year — apart from the peace and joy of the sacred birth of Jesus Christ — is a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; sadly, it seems the only time I know where people become gentler in their spirits that any other time and believe that, truly, we are all one heading for the same destiny. I believe I have benefitted from that gentleness and I am grateful to God for this day and the whole season. But sometimes I do admit, that I wish we had more family to attend and share our Christmas dinner with us.”

  “Well, we have my sister, and Topper,” she said trying to keep her voice light. “They’re our friends, but family, too.”

  Fred exhaled and sat up. “I wish my mother could’ve met you and seen our life,” he said.

  “But your dad was able to see us,” she said placing her hand over his and holding it tight. “But I know a mother is a very important person. And I know you must miss yours.”

  “I don’t even know where her grave is. My father was so distraught when she died that we never went.” And then they sat for a long time just being together.

  Marley had trouble keeping his thoughts from Fezziwig and how the man gave so much money away. He struggled to make sense of the whole idea! How could you just give money away? And if you did give it away, who would you give it to? Your friends, your church, people on the street? The memory of the people who danced around Fezziwig caused him to wonder. Did giving money away do that?

  No…No…No… his mind interrupted him. Money couldn’t create a warm smile like the ones he had seen dancing. Fezziwig had something, something Marley couldn’t explain. Something, he knew, he would never have because the people who had always been around him, aside from his mother, father and brother, had only been angry, sad and hopeless.

  Christmas Present nudged Marley out of himself and faced him now as an old man.

  “Open your hand,” the Spirit ordered and when Marley opened his hand he saw a small box with a written note attached to it. “Go put this where they can see it.”

  “Pardon me, dear Spirit, but they might see me,” Marley whispered.

  “The previous Christmas Presents told me you were bad, but not this bad,” the Spirit said frowning. “This has nothing to do with you, Jacob Marley, only them. Now go and put it where they can find it. And they can’t see you - you’re a ghost remember?”

  All Marley could do was drop his shoulders and nod at the Spirit. He looked for anywhere that they might find it and finally, he settled on the top of the fireplace right within their sight. Marley, standing in front of them, took the sparkling box, placed it on the fireplace, and moved back. He leaned over and jostled an ornament as he moved away making a tiny, glittery noise. Fred immediately opened his eyes from resting and caught sight of the box on the mantle.

  “What’s this?” he turned and asked his wife while getting up and reaching for the box.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see that all day. Maybe Topper left it? You know how strange he gets about having people open his gifts. Open it! What’s the note say?”

  “There’s just an address on the top. And…,” he stopped to open the box. He pulled out a small golden ladies’ watch. Upon turning it over he stopped and read the inscription:

  He re-read the words over and over until Jean snapped him out of it.

  “Oh, what a beautiful watch! Did that belong to your mother?” Jean said admiring the timepiece. “And the address on the note, what is there?”

/>   “I don’t know, but tomorrow I’ll find out,” Fred said twirling the watch in his hand. “Where did this come from? Did someone leave it here?”

  “Not that I know of,” Jean said.

  “Give me your wrist,” Fred said. He smiled as he placed the watch on his bride‘s arm.

  “It’s just beautiful. Thank you,” Jean said, blushing.

  Marley looked at the aging Spirit.

  “Feel that?” Christmas Present asked.

  Marley stood for a moment feeling a strange sensation inside of him like a bubbling up through his soul that was strangely warm and friendly and filled with happiness.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “That, Jacob, is what it feels like to give.”

  Chapter 10

  The Third Ghost

  April 23rd 1842

  Marley pulled his crystal from his pocket with his left hand and stared at it. There was nothing now that he could do to make it brighter. And even if he could stop roaming for just a second to look at it, he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do anyway. The gray ones on this side were so mean that Marley wondered how he could even think about redemption. Hopelessness enveloped him as he unconsciously moved forward to nowhere.

  The fire.

  He hated how his thoughts almost constantly focused on the wall of fire that was waiting for him. Waiting to take him somewhere away from the gray cold landscape of his present but how could it be much worse? Sometimes he thought it couldn’t. And now a vision of Scrooge forged into his thoughts, leading to more hopelessness as he wasn’t sure he could save him. Ebenezer wasn’t a young man after all. Or even a middle-aged man. He was old and the old tended to be very inflexible. At least that had been Marley’s experience. Death could take Ebenezer any day; it wasn’t like it was waiting for Marley to succeed. And what if his plan failed? What then? He couldn’t outrun the fire; it would be impossible. It would probably just come get him on the spot.