Copyright A. J. Gallant     ALL rights reserved

 

A Christmas Carol

A. J. Gallant

 

 

Edited by M

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

 

 

    JACOB MARLEY WAS dead tired.

    It was five minutes before midnight and a week before Christmas. A pleasant time of the year for most, though, of course, the underprivileged always struggled, the want felt even more keenly during the holidays. The insignificant felt even more inadequate than usual. Making ends meet got harder every year for some, for others their pockets got heavier with coin. It was surprising that Scrooge and Marley’s pantaloons didn’t fall to their ankles due to the weight of their riches, and yet their gains were never enough.

    A winter storm was getting angrier and would soon erupt into a very unpleasant blizzard. The falling snow was steady and already being pushed by a strong wind, drifting in bands as Mother Nature was working up a fury, slowly but steadily increasing her might. A gale howled through a crack in a nearby oak tree that had been struck by lightning years ago. The sound had an eerie pitch to it as if the grim reaper had come out to see who he could get. A frigid night if there ever was one. It was peculiar, but the scent of banana bread was in the air making them hungry. The bakery across the street from Scrooge and Marley’s business gave some food to the poor, but their ability to help was limited. Scrooge had disguised himself one morning in an attempt to get a free loaf, all he received was a stern look and a head shake. His crooked nose could not be masked from recognition.

     The two old faces were red and freezing but enjoying themselves nonetheless, staring through the blowing snow as best they could, side by side in the winter sleigh, like peas in a rotten pod. Their thick coats long past pristine, both threadbare with several holes each because it cost good money to have them repaired or heaven forbid replaced as neither were in the habit of spending much. Saying that they were frugal was an understatement.  Money made them happy and not much else. Every coin gained was like a mother’s hug and every coin lost a kick in the pants.

    Someone down the hill was cooking bacon and eggs, and although they couldn’t smell the eggs they could smell the bacon. “Marley, who the hell is preparing a meal at this hour? My stomach is growling like a mad dog.”

    “Some work late,” answered Marley. “But it is almost midnight.”

    Even Big Willie, the big white draft horse stood wondering what they were doing out here with a blizzard threatening, he shook his head in protest. No one with any sense was out at this time of the night, no one except for Scrooge and Marley on top of the hill waiting for the appropriate time to make their charge, like soldiers after the enemy, but they were pursuing the poor. It was good business to evict someone, confiscate their belongings that sometimes hid treasure that the owners were often unaware of, especially antiques. Some called them soul suckers as others thought their cruelty and miserliness had put some in the graveyard, still others that said they must be in cahoots with the grim reaper. Everyone said that Scrooge was as crooked as his nose.

    The horse complained.

    “Don’t you fret horse,” said Scrooge. “I’ll give you a piece of straw when we get back. Does Big Willie look fat to you?”

    “About as fat as a piece of straw.”

    They both laughed, pushing one another until they got into a bit of a slap fight. The unfortunate horse’s bones were plainly visible, and with so little insulation the animal was freezing in this weather. He had been seized from an old gentleman that wasn’t able to pay his rent. The horse was better off with the previous owner and happier too. Now Big Willie’s existence was nothing but drudgery.

     Jacob tried to take a drink from a cup of tea that he had taken with him, now a cup-shaped piece of ice. He turned the cup upside down and the ice fell at his feet. His hands were shivering as he placed the teacup at the bottom of the sleigh. “Christmas, is the best time of year is it not?”

    Scrooge nodded. Even his wrinkles looked happy. “We get richer every Christmas. People purchase too much food, grab a bird that they can’t afford, and buy junk for their brats that they don’t need. Why does every stupid child need his own sleigh? Why don’t they just pile them a dozen high? More fun that way wouldn’t you say?”

    “Aye, no sense to it Scrooge, and then they don’t pay us our due. And they feign surprise when we evict them. Oh please give me another month, another week. Not another minute I say!” Jacob giggled. They were one another’s only friends in the world. Partners in crime some said.

    Scrooge belched up a bit of gruel. “Aye, that’s what I like about you Marley, fair but firm. A no-nonsense approach to business. There can be no other way to run a business. We evicted three last year; remember putting that old lady in the snowbank? The look on that old bat’s face.”

    “I’ll never forget it. You hurt your back picking her up. Her arms were crossed all the while as you placed her in the snowbank. Whatever happened to that cantankerous old woman?”

    “She was run over by a horse,” Scrooge stated matter-of-factly.

    Scrooge had confiscated the big hill because of a technically, along with twenty acres that overlooked the city so that he and Marley could ride down it every year one week before Christmas, causing havoc and terror amongst the citizens. From October on they commenced to look forward to the excursion, remembering their past trips and planning the next one, guessing who they would get to throw out and what they might get to appropriate. Their position on the hill allowed them to see many of the derelict houses they owned, lit up with candles barely visible through the falling snow. Scrooge could now smell the faint scent of beer.

    The shivering horse stood patiently, waiting for the tug on the reins to start down the hill. Last year at this time there had been big magical snowflakes and practically no wind. It had been a sight until they had ridden down the hill and ruined the atmosphere.

    “Look at those fools Marley. Most eking out a meager living and yet so looking forward to Christmas. Bah. Daft is what they are! And as the years go by none of them get any smarter.”  Scrooge laughed heartily. “Still there’s no better time of the year, for us.”

    Marley also laughed. “You know who we might get this year? Old man Alcott.  Drinking for over a week so he’s not likely to have the rent. He fell on a patch of ice and almost cracked his head open. He lay in the road for over an hour; I watched him.  Made me want to sing. And that antique table of his might be worth more than the entire building. In fact, I’m sure it is.”

    Scrooge nodded and nodded. “That is excellent news. Should we insist that he go to debtors’ prison or just throw him in the snow bank?”  

    Marley shrugged. Some decisions weren’t as easy as they might seem. “It might be more fun to watch him wander the streets. He’d be a warning to others to pay their due. That cranky old bastard has no friends in this world so it should be interesting.” That tickled his funny bone and he laughed so hard that it also made Scrooge laugh.

    Scrooge finally got a hold of himself. “Might have to lock up our garbage; the rats eating our leavings is one thing. I believe we’re getting giddy from lack of sleep.”

     Marley fastened the top button on his old moth-holed topcoat and held his head down as the snow and sleet hit him, wrapping his scarf around his face as best he could. The cold was one of life’s bitter enemies and the weather was as uncaring as they were. The snow was getting worse, the wind increasing in intensity. The cold and wind didn’t appear to bother Ebenezer Scrooge as much as it did Marley, perhaps because his evil heart was colder and nastier than the elements could ever be. Approaching was a formidable northeaster though the brunt of the storm wouldn’t arrive for several hours.

    The horse snorted.        

    A large part of the city would normally have been asleep and relatively quiet at the midnight hour. However, the entire community in Scrooge’s area waited in anticipation of their outing down the hill, for every year the ride happened on this day. Most worried of eviction, even those that had no cause to fret as the old bastard could always make up some reason to throw them out. Some said that Scrooge and Marley were Satan’s helpers. It was quite an accomplishment that no one liked Scrooge or Marley.

    One senior lady had her head under the covers desperately hoping that she wasn’t going to hear those sleigh bells in front of her dwelling. She heard a mouse scratching at something in the corner, under her bed. In the home next to hers a young couple paced the floors like a father waiting for a new child, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

    They started the countdown on November 25th and each and every day that passed brought them more satisfaction, getting more joyful as Christmas approached. Going over the books to see who they could throw out. Marley sometimes drew pictures of people and their sad faces as they were being evicted, a pleasant pastime. They relished the week before Christmas even though they despised the holiday. Scrooge pulled out his pocket watch and stared at it much longer than it should have taken to tell the time, grunting briefly. Appearing through the blowing snow was his barely visible clerk Bob Cratchit, a ghostly figure within the wall of snow. He was bringing up a bucket of oats for the horse, paid for out of his meager salary.

   Scrooge shook his head and pointed. “Look at this! Bob Cratchit making his way up here in this to feed the horse. He wouldn’t battle this weather to feed me I can tell you that.” He shook his head. “I despise him to no end. He has a mind for business and yet no gumption to carry out what needs to be done, may as well be a farmer that won’t harvest his crop. I believe some of his rooms upstairs are boarded up if you know what I mean.”

    “Aye,” said his partner. “The fool has a soft heart. They’d run over him and take half of everything were he in our position. I really can’t understand what makes a man act in such a manner. Perhaps his mother dropped him on his head as a child?”

    Bob gave the horse some oats and glanced at his watch. The hour of midnight was near. “Please, Mister Scrooge, the Christmas season approaches. It’s a time for sharing and goodwill. I’ll work this Sunday if you call off the ride. People fear this night more than any other.”

   Marley snorted at the clerk. “As well they should Bob Cratchit. Now get out of my way or I’ll have the horse trample you and make your wife a window, not that she’d lose much.”

    Scrooge grunted. “The only ones that fear this night are the ones that don’t pay their accounts on time. We are not running a charity Bob Cratchit. Clear the way!”  Tiny Tim appeared in his thoughts but were quickly pushed out.

 

    The wind was howling through holes and cracks, and the shutters seemed that they might be ready to take to the wind, and one actually did. In the inadequately built row houses a second story window squeaked open and old Henry Abbey got a blast of winter in his wrinkly old face. Not as bad as seeing the old miser, even if he did end up with cold in his lungs.

    “Is that old bastard coming?” said Abel. He was in the window next door and his hearing wasn’t as good as it used to be.

    Henry squinted as he gazed up the hill. “I don’t see him yet, but we both know that we’ll see that ugly face soon enough. Perhaps the wind has blown out his lantern. Too bad a wolf or something wouldn’t get ‘em. More than likely make the animal would retch all night from the taste. That Marley is just as bad; he’s a Hood Robin is what he is.”

     Abel scratched his head. “What’s a Hood Robin?”

    “He steals from the poor and keeps it for himself.”

    Able laughed even though he was in no mood to do so, they were all powerless against the tormentors, giving him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

    A strong gust of wind and a shutter slammed shut not once but twice. “Can you imagine that he was once an innocent baby? Baffles the mind just to think about it.”

    Another blast of cold air hit Henry. “I think it might be more freezing in my bedroom than outside.”

    “I tried to plug some of the holes, but the front door fell off from the hammering and what a time to get it back on. A strong enough wind could blow this place down and then they’d expect us to pay for it.”

    “I hate them.” Henry scowled at the thought and imagined putting the boots to them even though his age made that impossible.

   A boy of thirteen ran in the street ringing his bell. “The misers are coming! The misers are coming!”

    They slid down the hill with the horse doing his best as he was being whipped by Scrooge. A large dog was viciously barking from somewhere, its head stuck out a second story window as its owner tried to shush it. The boy ran off as he heard the sleigh bells ringing as Scrooge and Marley pulled up in front of the row houses; the old horse again complained about being so cold. Windows and shutters closed tightly, candles were blown out, but Scrooge had already taken notice. They had two evictions, but the fun was also in the terror produced, and so they walked up and down the road as shadows peeked out from behind shabby curtains. The walk was sufficiently long to pass all the dwellings but well worth it to both of them, even though the wind punished them for doing so.

    Scrooge and Marley finally stopped at Henry’s home and pounded hard on the door until it fell off; Marley grunted at the occurrence thinking that had he been injured they would have paid a high price. They looked into the dark interior as Marley shone his lamp inside, revealing old furniture that wasn’t worth much, but an antique armoire covered over with a blanket appeared promising.

    “He’s feigning sleep,” said Scrooge. “We’ll evict him and have a better look at things in the morning light.”

    “Aye,” said Marley, and then took a swig of cheap rum.

     Their hefty feet stomped up the stairs, Scrooge’s foot went through one of the steps leaving lots of snow behind. They proceeded to the bedroom where Henry had a blanket over his head pretending to snore.

    “We know you’re not sleeping Henry, and we have your eviction notice. You are to be out by eight in the morn, and we’re confiscating everything for payment. You’ll take your clothes and nothing else.”

    Henry snored louder still.

    Scrooge cracked him on the knee with his cane.

    Henry sat up in bed. “Ow! I understand.” He wanted to tell them a thing or seven, but he was scared of them, besides he had a sister that they could turn their attention on and make her life miserable.

    Marley nodded. “It’s not personal it’s just business. We have the law on our side. You can spend the night, but that’s it.”

    “I said I understand now get out!”

    “Aye and you’ll be getting out in the morning and we’ll be back to make sure you don’t try to rob us.”

    Back outside Scrooge saw that the blizzard was increasing in intensity. The horse whinnied and fell over dead. “That’s it for Big Willie. You think he could have waited until he got us back home. I’ll have the butcher cut it up the in the morning. I bet he’ll taste pretty good. Maybe we should have fed him a bit more?”

    “We’ll take Henry’s horse when it’s time to get back.”

    “Aye.”