Work Text:
Life was a curious thing. For most, it was filled with mundanities and punctuated with largely unpleasant surprises here and there.
For Scrooge, however, even the monotony of day-to-day life had some newfound spark to it after that fateful day. From those ghoulish visions, he sought to make the most of his second chance in life, and the days following Christmas were spent with newfound friends or distributing alms.
With each coin that he’d give away, Scrooge would feel that burden upon his shoulders grow lighter, and despite his age, he walked with a spring in his step. The new year was greeted not with musings about future business ventures or grumbling about the previous years’ profits, but with hope and enthusiasm for the days to come.
But Scrooge would be lying to himself if he said that his heart was free from all worries. It started as the slightest of doubts two days after Christmas when he saw the curtains ripple ever so slightly, even with the window tightly shut. The unease only grew from there. Some days, Scrooge swore he could hear a faint moan through the floorboards. Other days, he’d hear the tinkling of a coin box or the shuffling of papers when he’d be nowhere near a purse or a dossier.
As January slowly crept forward, Scrooge would often find himself waking with a growing sense of unease. It took him until the Monday of the previous week to realize that he felt he was being watched. The next days were spent with many a cautious glance over the shoulder so that Scrooge could gain a sense of who his newfound shadow was. He had to admit that he had a few suspicions; that encounter with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come had made him cautious of the laundress and old Joe, but it was clear after a while that they hadn’t taken a sudden interest in him.
And so, Scrooge would take his fears privately to bed, too afraid and embarrassed to share his suspicions lest his neighbours grow weary of him again. It was a miracle in itself that so many had greeted his attempts at reconciliation with such open arms, and Scrooge thought he would be foolish to risk alienating them with unfounded accusations. Those unseen eyes and ghastly sounds never stopped, and yet Scrooge could find no explanation for these strange occurrences.
The answer came to him exactly a moon had passed after his encounter with the ghost of Marley, right down to the strike of the clock. He had been fast asleep then, but he woke up instantly with a great sense of dread as he heard the distant chimes of the bells. Despite his warm nightclothes and heavy quilt, Scrooge felt his teeth chatter as if he'd just been dragged from an icy pond. The walls seemed to ooze a strange, thick mist, and Scrooge didn’t have to look towards the window to confirm that it was indeed shut and it hadn’t been a lapse of memory.
The frantic fluttering of the curtains was enough.
“Marley?” he whispered.
The specter didn’t reply and only gazed at him with doleful eyes. Not a sound except for the slight rattling of a chain.
Without another word, Scrooge got out of bed and moved towards the curtains, his eyes never leaving Marley’s, and a slight chill greeted his face as he pressed his face against the frosted glass and peered out into the night.
There wasn’t a sign of the old ghosts that had patrolled the skies back on that fateful night. No howls and shrieks to be heard or strange ripples to be in the night sky. Just the sound of the gentle winds and the soft descent of snow.
He glanced back towards Marley, only to find that the ghost had disappeared.
“Marley?” He said again and cautiously approached the spot where his friend had once been.
There was no reply, and Scrooge went to bed with chattering teeth, and nearly tripping over the thick fog. The tinkling of the bells and chains lulled him into an uneasy sleep, and he was half-awake for any sign that the spectre might return again.
When he woke the next morning, eyes heavy from an unfulfilled sleep, the mist was gone and so were any signs of Jacob Marley.
Scrooge waited for him to come again.
Every night, he’d make sure to be in his room before sunset. He would fix his gaze upon the very spot where he had last seen Marley, and when his eyes had grown weary of that, he’d shift to looking intently towards the curtains. He would wait for a sign, any sign of that specter, for the strange noises had stopped ever since that last encounter, and those unseen eyes had seemingly lost their interest in Scrooge. Even after a week had passed with nary a sign, Scrooge would still wait with bated breath and closed eyes so as to not miss even the slightest of sounds, but the quiet would only be broken by an occasional cough or two.
He kept at this ritual until the Feast of Saint Valentine, and when Scrooge returned to his room that day, he glanced at the window, and shook his head before deciding that the meeting with Marley’s ghost last month must have been a figment of his imagination. He went to bed early with a full stomach and mutterings about that troublesome cough that ailed him recently.
It was nearly the end of February when his second shadow returned again. It started with that familiar clinking of the chains, and before long, Scrooge heard strange murmurings through the walls and the sensation of someone trailing his steps returned.
Scrooge woke again one night feeling that dreadful cold and fog wrap around and knew that Marley had returned.
“I thought you had said we’d never meet again.”
“Indeed, I did.” The ghost inspected him closely, as if searching for something. “Perhaps this is another form of punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“What else would you call it when you see another’s shackles being broken while you yourself are doomed to wander and witness endless sorrow for all eternity?”
Scrooge blinked slowly. “Do you hate me, Marley?”
“No.”
“Do you regret coming to visit me that first night?”
“It was I that interceded on your behalf,” Marley said shortly. “I don’t partake in deals if there’s the slightest chance that I’d regret it. Surely you’d know your business partner well enough to not ask such foolish questions, Scrooge.”
“That was reserved for matters of business, Jacob,” Scrooge said softly. “What you did for me was another matter entirely.”
“Think of it as a business matter of sorts,” Marley said.
“It would be crude to reduce a deed to a mere transactional matter.”
Marley looked down at the padlocks that ran across his chest with a look of disgust. “This form I’m damned to take works in strange ways. My motivations, my desires- I can hardly recall them as I travel to and fro. Even my memories are nearly lost to me, and I don’t remember much aside from my name and that I was a deplorable and hardened man.”
“Deplorable is too harsh-”
“I remembered you too.” Marley gave him a cool look. “Your name, and that we saw each other often.”
“That we did,” Scrooge said wistfully.
“You were the closest thing I had to a friend but I wouldn’t say we were particularly close,” Marley mused, and Scrooge shifted awkwardly. “Yet, during my travels through the night, I’d think of you and the tight chains around your own heart, and how sturdy they must have grown throughout the years.”
“They had indeed shackled me, and if it weren’t for you, I’d still-”
“I would like to say that it was out of pure humanity and goodwill that I made my intervention, but there is a good reason for all this that binds me and my current state. Again, the exact reason I cannot remember, but I’m sure that there must have been some nefarious desire that drove me so.”
“Why are you telling me all this, Marley?”
“It is so that you can put aside feeling indebted to me.” Marley replied, his voice never losing that cool tone. “It is so you can stop thinking of me as a friend who is worth waiting for, and spend your remaining days sharing your good fortune. It is so you can live your life free of the regrets that I’m bound to permanently.”
“And what of you? What of you, Jacob?”
Marley said nothing, and stared off into the distance before letting out a weary sigh.
In the distance, the bells began to chime and Scrooge saw Marley slowly begin to melt away into the air.
“Think of me as nothing but an unpleasant dream. Or an irritable guest, albeit a temporary one. One that comes round once a month and brings a chill that steals away a few winks of sleep.”
Marley had all but disappeared, and Scrooge suppressed a shudder at the cold breath he suddenly felt upon his neck.
“But then again,” Marley whispered into his ear, “’Tis a fair price for salvation, wouldn’t you agree?”
“No.” Scrooge said and turned in the direction of the voice.
But Marley had already left, and wisps of vapour swirled lazily where he once stood.
March came, and the snow started to melt, but Scrooge was unable to let go of the winter.
The ghosts, though long departed, would linger on his mind and he felt skittish whenever there was the slightest breeze, expecting that some otherworldly fog would descend, even though he was sure that Marley wouldn’t be returning so soon.
Some days, Scrooge’s thoughts would be filled with regret for his deeds and fear that his redemption had come too late. There was many a night he would wake up gasping for air and running his hands along his torso, fearing that he might have suddenly succumbed overnight, and that his spirit had been tethered forever due to his avarice. The terrifying thought still lingered even after he had thrice checked that his heart was still beating and that there was no sign of a cuff or a chain anywhere on his body.
Scrooge’s coffers were always lighter after those nights, and many a poor person would go to bed with a full belly.
Some days, Scrooge would think of Marley, and he would go to bed with a heavy heart. There was pity for Marley and his miserable fate, and a deep regret that Scrooge could never truly pay off this debt he owed to his friend.
Though Marley was absent, Scrooge was haunted by the weight of his contrition until the clock chimed midnight, and a ghastly draught stung his face.
“How have you fared this past month?” Marley drawled as he materialized on the chair next to Scrooge’s bed.
“I’ve been well.”
“You lie,” Marley said, giving him a cold look.
Scrooge hesitated. “It’s just a cough.” One that had pestered him for months at this point, but that should hardly be a cause for concern.
“There’s more than that. You grip your knees, and I can tell from your eyes that it is not from fright.”
“My bones have started to ache. It should hardly be a surprise for someone of my age.”
“I suppose so.”
“Marley,” Scrooge said suddenly. “You mentioned that I was doomed for all eternity unless I was to repent for my sins..”
“That I did.”
“Can you...” Scrooge suppressed a shudder. “Can you tell me if what I’m doing now is enough redemption? Or is it too late for one with such a miserly heart?”
The silence was excruciating.
“I cannot say,” Marley finally said, and Scrooge felt dread creep through his entire body. “Decades of acting out an insatiable greed cannot be balanced out by a few days’ worth of charity.”
“I know that, and I regret the man that I used to be, but Marley, if you knew of my fate before, surely you would be able to have an idea of whether anything has changed.”
Marley sighed, and again silence seemed to stretch on endlessly before he spoke up again.
“I would be able to tell by looking deep within your soul. But, you must promise me something.”
“Anything, Marley. Anything.”
“No matter my answer, you mustn’t let yourself get disheartened and stray from this newfound path of yours. Do not give up, Scrooge, for as long as you are alive, there is still hope.”
“I promise, Jacob. I won’t give up, especially not after all that you’ve done for me.”
Marley turned to look straight into Scrooge’s eyes and Scrooge felt his head spin with anxiety, and despite the cold, his hands went clammy under Marley’s pitiless scrutiny. He’d never felt himself so vulnerable, and that cold glare left him bare as every thought and intent behind each of his shameless deeds was drawn out of him. When Marley looked away, seemingly having found the answer, Scrooge gasped with pain.
“The chains are still there,” Marley said softly.
Scrooge stared at the ground wordlessly.
“Don’t lose heart. The links are considerably weaker, but there is plenty of life left within you. You shall be free in no time.”
“And what of you?” Scrooge blurted. “You’ve done a great service by helping guide me. Surely your chains have weakened as well.”
“I try not to look at them,” Marley said with a look of disgust towards his hands. “But no, they didn’t get any lighter after that night. I didn’t expect them to.”
“Why?”
“After all these years, I know better than to have hope.”
Marley looked so dejected that Scrooge reached out for his shoulder, and winced as the frosty mist burned his hand, but he didn’t move his hand. Marley only looked on dully.
“Marley, there’s surely something we could do.”
"There isn’t.” Marley’s tone became harsh as he continued. “And you’d do better to focus on yourself than deal with someone who's a lost cause.”
“But Marley—”
“Please, Scrooge. Do not make this punishment worse by offering me any hope. You wish to pay me back? Well, fine. Focus on yourself and pay me no mind.”
“How can you ask me to be so selfish?”
Marley let out a humourless laugh, and his voice sounded fainter than before.
“Why, Scrooge, you’ve been a selfish fellow nearly your entire life. It couldn’t be difficult to dig up some of that old sentiment for an old friend.”
He left the room after that, and Scrooge slept poorly again that night.
He speaks of selfishness and sentiments at the same time, Scrooge thought, perhaps he lied and Marley truly does hate me.
Scrooge was sure that the ghost would hate him more once he figured out how to free his old friend from his shackles.
Yet, that was a price he was willing to pay.
Scrooge knew he did not have long to live.
He hadn’t lied to Marley, but he hadn’t told him the entire truth of his condition either. Yes, there was a cough but sometimes during a particularly nasty fit, he’d notice faint streaks of blood on his handkerchief. His bones did ache, but he hadn’t told Marley just how excruciating the pain was and how his legs trembled on his walks back home.
Scrooge didn’t exactly fear death, but rather feared the uncertainty of what awaited him after he departed from the world, especially after Marley’s words about the lingering chains. The fact that there was still hope for him was of some comfort, and as Scrooge started to bring his business dealings to a slow halt, he resolved to spending the remainder of his time with his nephew and his friends instead.
He intended to leave the business to Fred, out of love for his sister and as a way to make amends for being so cold to his nephew. Scrooge hadn’t told Fred of the arrangement or his illness, and he made sure to make Fred a constant presence in his office in the hopes that he would slowly pick up on the matters of business. Scrooge thought that perhaps he was being hasty with everything, but he had seen many a man drop dead with similar conditions to his.
Even with everything that was weighing upon Scrooge, he found that Fred’s jovial nature always had a way of pulling Scrooge temporarily out of his rather dark thoughts.
“Whose writing is this? It’s not yours or Mr. Cratchit’s,” Fred asked one day as Scrooge entered his office one day.
Scrooge grabbed onto the back of his chair and leaned down to peer over Fred’s shoulder and he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he read the paper.
“That’s Jacob Marley’s writing. You remember him, don’t you?”
“I do,” Fred said, and he went quiet.
The short answer unnerved Scrooge; usually Fred had a cheery comment to say about others.
“What do you remember of him?” Scrooge pressed.
Fred looked uncomfortable and shuffled the papers in front of him before letting out a sigh.
“They say there is no good to come from speaking ill of the dead, but Uncle, everyone who came across him thought him one of the most miserable people they’ve ever met.”
“Including you?”
“Including me,” Fred admitted.
“He was a good man.”
“I am sure he was, Uncle, but he never smiled or spoke pleasantly to anyone. None of us saw him raise a finger to help anyone unless there was an advantage for him in doing so.”
Not unlike me.
“ You knew him better than anyone else though,” Fred continued, “perhaps you knew his softer side, but the rest of us can only speak from our memories of him.”
Scrooge remained quiet. Marley was a good business partner and had never double-crossed him, but he couldn’t recall a moment where their conversation hadn’t included the topic of business in some manner. They were friends but when Marley had been alive, their conversations started and ended with business only.
If those were the fondest memories he had of his friend, he did not want to know what the others remembered him as.
It was a shame that Marley’s kinder side had surfaced after his death, and that Scrooge would be deemed mad if he tried to redeem his friend. Perhaps there was a slight chance someone could believe him about the ghosts.
But who would believe that Jacob Marley would think of helping someone else?
“How are you, Scrooge?”
“Well. And you?”
“You lie.”
“Just the cough and the bones. It seems you come around every month on the twenty-fourth.”
“Do I? I could never keep track of the time. What month is it?”
“April.”
“I believe I can remember that business picked up around this time. Or was it September? I can’t remember—no, never mind that, how fared your business, this month?”
“It was slow, but that was only because I spent the time with others.”
“Good. You were spreading cheer and making amends, were you not?”
“Yes.”
“You lie again.”
“I—I also asked them about you, Marley.”
“About me? Why did you waste your time with such things?”
“I wanted to hear someone’s good memory of you.”
“...Did you?”
“Yes, I—”
“Let me rephrase that question. Did anyone other than Ebenezer Scrooge remember me kindly?”
“Marley—”
“Do not lie to me a third time.”
Scrooge stayed silent. That was answer enough for Marley.
“I see.”
Marley did not speak again for the rest of the night.
He made May’s donation to the charity collector in Marley’s name. It had gotten him an odd look and Scrooge had nearly added another donation in his name, but paused when he considered that there was a chance that it could take away attention from Marley.
“This money is from Jacob Marley?” the collector asked.
“Yes. According to his will, he wanted me to begin donating on his behalf after our business made a certain amount of profit.”
A white lie, but it had gotten the job done; the collector’s face softened.
“He never said anything about this to the charity. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have—” The man’s face turned red and he clicked his tongue.
“Jacob was a private man when it came to matters like this, but it didn’t sit right with me to make it anonymous so that others wouldn’t know of his charitable nature.”
“Of course. This money will help and be appreciated by many.”
Scrooge did not sleep the night of Marley’s return. When he heard the clinking and felt the cold creep along his scalp, Scrooge waited for the ghost to materialize with bated breath.
“Hello, Scrooge. Business has been going well?”
“Yes.” The chains were still there, much to Scrooge’s dismay.
“Have you given the money to charity?”
“I... have given a substantial amount. Much more than the past few months combined.”
Was there no hope of salvation for Marley after all? Scrooge felt his heart sink.
“How do you feel about that?”
Scrooge didn’t answer, and looked closely for a sign that something had changed. The chains were still there, and so were the moneyboxes. The padlocks were still littered all over his body but his eyes widened as he noticed some of them had been unlocked and were dangling very loosely from the links.
“...Scrooge?”
“Yes?” He said breathlessly.
“The donation. When you look back on it, how did it make you feel?”
Scrooge’s eyes never left the chains.
“My heart feels lighter. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much joy in years, Marley.”
Marley gave a small smile. “You’re not lying. I’m glad to hear it, Scrooge.”
Scrooge’s coffers had been nearly drained but the padlocks were gone when Marley came to visit him at the end of June.
“You’ve never been this elated to see me, Scrooge.”
“Oh? I suppose I’ve grown fond of your company.”
Marley’ eyes narrowed. “Even with all the friends you’ve made among the living? I imagine they make for better company than ghosts.”
“You’ve been my oldest friend. I could never tire of your company.”
“Mm. Don’t stray from that promise you made.”
“Of course not. Why would you think of such a thing?”
Marley lingered until dawn, but Scrooge did not speak or look at him, though he knew Marley was suspicious of him. His words had been chosen with care for the past few months, lest he be called out for his lies and forced to admit to his plan. But after that night when Marley had peered into his soul, Scrooge was more frightened of the ghost telling him that it was all for naught and the chains had grown stronger with all the lies.
It was a great relief that Marley had not asked him about his health this time, and it had been a great effort to keep himself from limping or hide the fact that, even with the warmth of the sun, there was a constant chill surrounding him.
Scrooge thought that he wouldn’t have to keep up the façade after the year. That was, of course, if he had enough luck to be granted that much time.
It occurred to Scrooge that he had never visited Marley’s grave since the day of his funeral. Of course, he paid a sum to a groundskeeper every month to see to the upkeep of the grave, but it was a matter of great shame that he had been otherwise so detached.
Scrooge intended to visit on the 6th of July. He managed to walk the whole distance to the graveyard on the 21 st and that was mostly due to not wanting giving Tiny Tim (the boy followed him anywhere he could now) any cause for worry
“Are you alright, Master Scrooge?” Tiny Tim asked a panting Scrooge. “You’re so pale. Should I fetch for help?”
“No. No, my boy. I’m fine.”
“You’re gripping onto that gate as if you’d keel over without it.”
“Just a sign that it might be time for me to get a cane.” Scrooge’s legs burned as he pushed over the gate. “Come along, now. We won’t take long here.”
Marley’s grave was tidy as Scrooge had hoped it would be, but it was the only one that was deprived of flowers, and unlike the rest of the graves, the grass around it had not been worn.
“Who was this man, Master Scrooge?” Tiny Tim said as he peered down at the tombstone.
“Jacob Marley. My former business partner and an old friend. He had done much for me, and I’m afraid I can’t even begin to repay him for all that he did for me.”
“You miss him.”
“Yes, and I wish I had visited his grave more over the years.”
They did not stay for much longer; Scrooge’s legs trembled and he did not want his charge to get home after sundown.
“Master Scrooge.” Tiny Tim chirped up on the way back. “My father takes us to that cemetery every month so we could visit our grandparents and put a flower on their grave. Would you like me to do the same for Master Marley?”
Scrooge stopped and gave the boy an affectionate look. “Of course, my boy. I’d be indebted if you could do that for me.”
It would hardly begin to make up for Scrooge’s neglect over the years, but at least there was a guarantee that someone would extend some kindness to Marley, even after Scrooge would have long departed from the world.
The winds were oddly still tonight, and the cold could almost be considered pleasant.
“You visited my grave.” Marley noted.
“How could you tell?”
“I felt a slight stir.” Marley said quietly. “I didn’t know who it was, but I had a feeling that it might have been you.”
“I took my charge with me as well.”
Marley looked conflicted for a moment, and Scrooge wondered whether he had made a mistake in going when Marley spoke up again.
“Someone visited again a few days later, and they came with a flower this time. It... soothed my soul, even if it were for a brief moment.”
“That wasn’t me but now I’ll visit your grave more and bring more—”
“Please do not, Scrooge.” Again, the conflicted look returned and Marley hesitated before continuing, “It soothed me, yes, but the remainder of the time was spent in agony, wondering why I hadn’t been a different man, and all those that I had wronged and snubbed. Had I been a different man or changed my ways, it wouldn’t have been like this—”
Marley cut off abruptly, and his eyes widened at Scrooge. “No. No, I didn’t mean any of it. Just some ramblings of a madman. No—don’t come any closer, Scrooge.”
“Marley, please. Let me help.”
“No. Stop with the kindness and your obsessions with a dead man. I do not deserve any of it, and it is a bitter reminder in itself when I see that you are good and redeemed and how you will have people who mourn you after you are gone, while it is a miracle when someone doesn’t spit on the ground after they mention my name.”
Scrooge was silent as Marley huffed and gasped. “I do not need your pity, Scrooge.”
“It is not pity. I am merely attempting to pay off a friend’s debt.”
Marley’s eyes widened. “You’re doing what ? No, no. Scrooge, I do not know exactly what you’re trying to do but I am the last person you should be thinking about. Think of yourself and think of your chains. Does it not strike fear into your heart?”
“It used to strike a great terror within me.” Scrooge admitted. “Now, when I think of my potential fate, I only think of you and how unfair your ordeal is.”
“Why? Why? Why are you such a fool?”
The chill lingered for days after Marley left that night, and Scrooge was sure that his friend hated him now if he hadn’t before. He didn’t find that as terrifying of a thought as imagining Marley continuing to suffer his grim fate.
The winds that came with Marley the next month were so fierce that for a moment Scrooge thought he would freeze to death right at that very moment.
“Fool. Fool.” Marley rasped. “Look at me, can you not see the chains? Can you not hear them?”
“Look at them now, Marley. They’re nearly—”
Marley’s eyes flashed with anger.
“I told you already. I don’t look at these bonds.”
Scrooge could no longer walk without a cane when autumn came, and Marley gave an angry look when he glanced at the cane in the corner.
“Look at that! You hardly have any time left. Come, look into my eyes, Scrooge. Perhaps I need to frighten you near to death for you to take this seriously again. There is still time for you to take care of the shackles.”
“I’ll worry about mine when yours are gone, Marley.” Scrooge said. “Rejoice, friend. You shall be free soon.”
“Rejoice? You’re throwing away your second chance for something for a fool’s errand, and you expect me to rejoice! Please, Scrooge, let me tell you about your debt. Scrooge, please, I cannot bear to see—”
When Scrooge didn’t look up towards the ghost, Marley spent the next few hours howling and raging, as Scrooge contemplated how he hadn’t felt this content in his entire life.
October was spent with his nephew. When Marley came, Scrooge was conversing with Fred late into the night. He wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the slight chill that caused Fred to wrap his arms around himself.
“Uncle, would you like another blanket? It’s so cold tonight.”
“It’s fine, Fred. Would you stay awhile for a little longer?”
“Of course.” Fred said and grasped Scrooge’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marley give the pair a look of envy.
“I haven’t been particularly kind to you, Fred and yet, you’ve always spoken to me with a good nature.”
“Please don’t say such things, Uncle. You’ve had a difficult and lonely life, and it would do me no good to begrudge you for it.”
“So much of that loneliness was self-imposed.” Scrooge mused.
“That is all in the past.” Fred said and gripped his hand tightly. “Whoever or whatever it was that caused you to have such a change of heart, I do not know but I am fully indebted to them nonetheless.”
Marley stirred in the corner.
“As am I, Fred. As am I.”
He could barely sit up for longer than an hour at a time. His bones ached, and he could scarcely bring the quill to the paper without the nib breaking from all the trembling. His eyes burned and his head throbbed with such a violent intensity.
“What are you doing?” Marley rasped. “It is so late in the night. Rest!”
There was so much to be done. The papers that would leave the business in Fred’s capable hands. The letters instructing the Cratchits that the money was to be set aside for the children’s medical expenses and that they should treat the children to a turkey on his behalf every Christmas Eve. A handsome fund set aside that would donate on his and Marley’s behalf.
“No, no. Strike my name out. Please, it is painful enough to see you so weak and in such pain during your last days. I could not bear to have you join me as well.”
“You will be free, Marley.”
“Please, Scrooge. Please. Strike my name out.” Marley wept. “I beg of you. Think of yourself for once! I would not bear you any ill will.”
“I’m sorry, Marley.”
Scrooge was dead.
It was painful for a brief moment, and then his soul drifted freely above.
“You’re dead!” Marley whispered mournfully as Scrooge’s soul drifted out into the night sky. “Oh, Scrooge!”
“It is fine,” Scrooge said. “I lived a long life, and it was a miserly and bitter one for most of it, but I leave with no regrets now that I have made my amends. I only wish that others will remember me kindly.”
“They will, Scrooge, they will,” Marley whispered.
“You sound so sure.”
“Your lack of chains is proof of it.”
Scrooge had been so startled by his death that it had not occurred to him to check for any shackles, nor was there any fear once his soul had departed from the world. After staring down at his ghastly form in wonder, his thoughts instantly went to Marley’s fate and his eyes quickly focused on him.
The chains, he noted with a sinking heart, were still there. Nearly broken but still there.
“I’m sorry, Scrooge,” Marley said with a sad smile. “For my harsh words. I only wanted to see you free, my friend.”
“How can this be? I did so much to clear your good name. You should be redeemed just as much as I!”
“I thank you for all that you did, but Scrooge, I don’t think I am worthy of such redemption.”
“That’s why! Marley, please. Come with me. It will be a long journey and I wish to have my dearest friend by my side.”
“I—”
“Marley, you redeemed yourself the day you interceded to save a damned man’s life. That one action saved the lives of many more. If my debt could be paid off, then yours should have been paid back twice over.”
Marley hesitated.
“Marley. For a second, give yourself hope. Imagine the shackles breaking free, and journeying beyond with me. Do that as a last gift to an old friend. If it fails, and it will not, I will accept our differing fates and travel by myself, albeit with a heavy heart.”
Marley closed his eyes and sighed. A small smile appeared on his lips, and the chains instantly shattered. They watched in wonder as the shards drifted out into the night sky, a gentle melody inviting them as they bumped into each other.
Scrooge turned to a shocked Marley with a smile.
“Scrooge—I... you...thank—”
“There will be plenty of time for thanks later, Marley. Shall we be off now? There are many people that I have been eagerly waiting to see.”
Marley nodded, eyes welled with emotion, and Scrooge looked back at the streets of London for one last time before turning to walk into the sky.