Candles [A Christmas Carol]

Future

Ebenezer was never again brought before a girl in hopes of marriage, which suited him just fine. The only arms he wished t be held in were working right beside him each and every day.

But, as it had felt too good to be true when he was fourteen, fate eventually caught up with him.

One Christmas Eve, Marley had offered to pick up the Christmas goose for their supper while Scrooge closed up shop. Little did he know Marley had more than a goose in mind; he detoured to a small shop to purchase some small presents for his dear Ebenezer.

Marley was no more than fifty meters from their shared flat when he was suddenly stopped by several men. He took one look at them and knew they were from the miner's side of town. The coal dust that covered them, paired with bloodshot eyes and foul stenches said it all.

"Going home for Christmas, Mr. Marley?" one of them asked.

"Yes, in fact I am," Marley answered, his arms laden with groceries and gifts. "So, if you'll please--"

The men refused to move from his path. Marley sighed in frustration; it was just his luck to be accosted on Christmas Eve. Then again, he reminded himself, not everyone is as lucky to have a stable business and loving home to have. Perhaps he could spare a few pounds.

"Those gifts for your lover, Mr. Scrooge?" An especially filthy man sneered. The others sniggered behind him.

Marley felt a flush creeping up his neck; surely these men were jesting. How could they possibly...?

"Is it money you all want?" he demanded. "You may have it." He began to rummage around in his pockets, hoping Ebenezer wasn't becoming worried about his whereabouts.

The men laughed cruelly. "You can't buy your way out of being a pansy."

Now Marley was frightened. These men somehow knew something. "I don't know what you think you know about Mr. Scrooge and I," he began carefully, "but I can assure you our relationship is strictly business. Now, if you don't mind, I have--"

Marley never finished his sentence. He was knocked to his knees with some sort of club. All the packages flew from his arms. "I have money!" he cried desperately.

The men kicked him and made loud, rude jokes as he cried out in pain; he prayed Ebenezer couldn't see him from out his window.

His face battered and bloody, Marley cowered in fear as one of the end drew a small pistol. "Our good God hates filthy foul pansies like you and that wretched Scrooge," he spit out. "It's a shame you won't be able to give him those presents."

Marley's last thought was of Scrooge laughing in the candlelight and holding him close on the coldest of winter nights. Please dear God, don't let dear Ebenezer suffer my same fate.

The man pulled the trigger.

***

Back at home, Ebenezer was beginning to get nervous. Jacob had left around half past six; it was now nearly eight o'clock. The butcher's wasn't far at all, and they had preordered the goose. There shouldn't have been a long wait to get it.

Finally, at a half past eight, Scrooge decided to go out and see what was taking his dear Jacob so long.

He barely stepped out of the door when he saw Marley, his precious, beloved Marley, lying dead in the middle of the street, blanketed by clean white snow.

Scrooge refused to believe his eyes at first, surely he was being deceived. But when he heard shouts of panic from people across the street, once he heard approaching police who had been alerted by the sound of a gunshot, Ebenezer Scrooge knew he was not being played for a fool.

He found himself running, sprinting to his dear Jacob Marley, crying bitterly into the neat wound in his chest, realizing all the perfectly wrapped gifts strewn around him were why his love had taken so long coming home.

Marley was long dead by the time the police arrived at the scene, yet still it took several policemen to physically haul Scrooge away from his lover's corpse to take him in for questioning as the coroner took the body.

Scrooge was sent home the same night, but not before he gathered up all the snow-covered presents and ruined groceries. He had no appetite anyway.

Scrooge intended on returning the gifts to the shops they came from, but they ended up simply in Marley's room, unopened, untouched, just like everything else remaining of Marley's.

The funeral was a week later. Scrooge floated through the sermon, barely hearing a word. He had the task of closing the coffin, but he barely managed to convince himself to do so. Marley looked so peaceful in death. He could have been sleeping. But Scrooge knew no matter how many cups of cinnamon tea he brought in, Marley wouldn't awaken.

As the coffin lid shut with an unforgiving thud, Scrooge felt like it was the shutting of all the doors Marley had opened that Christmas Eve when they were fourteen, fresh and young and innocent. Yes Jacob, Scrooge thought. Fall in love. I hear it's a wonderful thing to do.

***

Seven years later, Scrooge watched as the third candle he lit that hour burned out. I'm not lighting another, he decided. I might as well sleep.

But he couldn't, no matter how he tossed and turned, sleep wouldn't claim him. Eventually he became so restless he got up and wandered around in the dark, just to calm his nerves.

Somehow, he found his way into Marley's room. He hasn't been in there since his death, he realized. And then, as if guided by an unseen hand, he opened the closet door. Something fell at his feet, a small wrapped package. Without thinking, Scrooge went into his room, lit another candle, and unwrapped the package. He gasped.

Inside was a handcarved candle holder. Nearly identical to the one Market had given him as a child the first time they met, except for one small detail, so small he nearly missed it. Engraved into the bottom of the candle holder was the faintest of inscriptions:

May the angels guide you with their light for all eternity. Merry Christmas, my one true love, partner in business and in life.
From, your ever loving Jacob.

Tears coursing down his haggard face, Scrooge placed his candle in the holder. He sat and watched it, stared into Marley's flaming glow until he fell asleep.

The candle burned all night.