A Christmas Carol, Part 2: The Day After December 13, 2011
Posted by Matt in A Christmas Carol Part 2.Tags: A Christmas Carol, Christmas, Conservatives, ghost, politics, Republicans, Ronald Reagan, Scrooge
add a comment
Chapter 1
Marley was still dead, of that Scrooge was quite sure. For though he had born witness to the apparition of his partner only the night before, he was convinced that Marley was most certainly dead as a door-nail.
Scrooge was now a changed man, as one who is reborn, for the spirits of two nights prior, that fateful Christmas Eve, had shown him the err of his ways, putting forth visions of Christmases past, present, and future, and it all started with the visitation from his now eternally cursed and most assuredly dead associate, Marley. He was now a kinder, gentler, and infinitely more joyful man, with intentions of sharing his bountiful riches with those less fortunate, to lift up the downtrodden, to work for the ever-elusive common good of humankind. Also, there was Tiny Tim, the young son of his employee Bob Cratchit, whose plight in life he vowed to right, to use his great wealth in every way possible to ease the disabled child’s life. It was now a personal mission, one that he foresaw would be a source of great joy to the family and to himself.
All the day of Christmas he had made merry with his nephew’s family, becoming in turn the joyful patriarch, the smiling, beloved Uncle Scrooge, discovering happiness in his drear life once again, changing his countenance to one of great joy and mirth. The following day he celebrated yet again, this time with the poor Cratchit’s, bestowing upon him an increased salary and blessing the family with the largest turkey to be found. Yes, he was a new man, one now endowed with a sense of giving and festiveness, of humor and love.
It was a dark night as Scrooge made his way home from the office, his now ever-present smile permeating the foggy blackness as a beacon of hope in the mournful atmosphere. He and Bob had laughed and joked throughout the day, creating an atmosphere of joy at work as never before. It was lighthearted and even fun, two words never before uttered in the firm of Scrooge and Marley.
Before that portentous Christmas Eve, there had been nothing odd about the knocker on the door, but on that particular night it had taken the form of Marley’s ghostly face staring into the night with its dead eyes. Thus, Scrooge was a bit more cautious than he had been before as he reached for the knob, keeping his eyes focused upon the knocker on the chance that it might happen to change yet again.
And as he watched, it did change, only this time the face was no longer his tortured partner, it was another familiar visage, a face well known by all.
“Reagan?”
Then, just as it had transformed the first time, it changed back, becoming nothing more than a knocker once again. Scrooge breathed deeply in the cold night air, and then opened the door to his quarters. Lighting a candle, he glanced furtively around the room, checking every dark corner for a ghostly presence, but saw nothing.
“Perhaps,” he said to himself, “it is truly something I ate, maybe this time it was really a bit of undigested beef.” For it was true that he had been eating quite merrily these last few days as if he were making up for Christmases past.
Suddenly the great bell, the one that harkened the approach of the spirits some two nights prior, began to ring, loudly sounding in the darkness, jarring Scrooge to his senses.
“Oh, spirit, oh, Marley, must you come and visit me yet again? I am a changed man, Marley! I will keep the spirit of Christmas alive!” he wailed into the night amid the pealing bells.
The cellar door again loudly flew open, just as it had two nights prior and Scrooge listened to the footfalls slowly climbing the stairs. Then, coming through the same heavy door, the ghost appeared before him as the dying flame leapt, as if to announce the ghostly presence.
Open-mouthed, Scrooge stared ahead, “President Reagan!”
“Yes, it is I, President Ronald Reagan.”
“Why have you chosen to visit me, Mr. President? Why do you trouble me? I am a changed man! I have seen the light! I am no longer a selfish miser, set to live my days alone and without joy. Spirit, I have changed!”
“Yes, Ebenezer Scrooge,” he thundered, shaking the house with his ferocity, “That is what I have been told and that is exactly why I am here.”
“But, but, Spirit, I don’t understand.”
“Silence,” he roared, “You have strayed from the Conservative path, Ebenezer Scrooge, and I have been sent to bring you back. Tonight you will be haunted,” the ghost audibly sighed if that sort of thing is possible for an apparition, “by three candidates for President.”
“Again?”
The Spirit continued on, unperturbed, “They will give you the other, more fair and balanced side of the story. Pay attention to them Ebenezer Scrooge and they will steer you back to the path of Conservatism!”
The ghost of Reagan turned and began to walk back into the cellar, but then his head seemingly perked up and swiveled around with a dead stare upon Scrooge. “Got any jelly beans?”
“Uh, no sir, Mr. President.”
“Dang. Farewell, Ebenezer!” He passed through the door again, a cold breeze rustling through the room and then all was silent and dark, just as before.
