My Christmas Carol 10 - Ghost of the Future

Scrooge looks desperately about.

SCROOGE: Someone? Anyone? Please, answer me!

Finally, someone emerges from the shadows. Scrooge gapes in horror at a dark, hooded figure. No face can be discerned under the drawn hood, though a bony white hand reaches out from the black folds. Scrooge lowers himself to one knee in a respectful but fearful bow.

SCROOGE: I—I’m in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, am I not?

The hooded figure says nothing.

SCROOGE: You’re here to show me the shadows of the things that have not yet come to pass. Is that so, Spirit?

The Ghost beckons with its white hand. Scrooge rises tentatively to his feet.

SCROOGE: Ghost of the Future, I fear you more than any other specter I’ve seen. But if your purpose is to do me good, I shall follow you willingly and thankfully. Will you not speak to me?

The Ghost turns away and motions for Scrooge to follow.

SCROOGE: Lead on, Spirit. Lead on.

Scrooge follows the Ghost. Presently, he finds himself in the city where he currently resides, albeit with a gloomier atmosphere. He overhears a conversation amid four shady businessmen, as portrayed by Honest John, Ratcliffe, Hans, and the Duke of Weselton.

HONEST JOHN: I know very little of the details. I only know he’s dead.

DUKE: When did he die?

RATCLIFFE: Last night, I believe. Or it could have been the night before that.

HANS: What was the matter with him? Everybody believed he would live forever.

HONEST JOHN: (lighting a cigar) Only God knows.

DUKE: What has he done with his money?

RATCLIFFE: I haven’t heard. Left it to his company, perhaps. He hasn’t left it to me. That’s all I know and would care to know.

HANS: I imagine it will be a very cheap funeral.

RATCLIFFE: Upon my life, I don’t know of anybody in this city who would attend his funeral. Not willingly, anyway.

DUKE: Suppose we made up a party and volunteered ourselves? It’s only decent, after all, wouldn’t you say, boys?

HONEST JOHN: Decency was never a concern of mine. Still, I wouldn’t mind going…if a lunch were provided afterward.

RATCLIFFE: I’ve no objection, either, though I must also be fed if I do attend.

HANS: I’ll go if anybody else will, though I never cared for the man, and he surely never considered me his most particular friend.

Scrooge leaves the men with a deeply troubled countenance. Now he and the Ghost come across three female robbers, as portrayed by Cruella de Vil, Mother Gothel, and Madam Mim. The women stand in a narrow alley and show one another the contents of their sacks.

CRUELLA: Well, the old boy has got his own at last!

GOTHEL: I suppose we should pity the poor stiff. But, truth be told, I can’t say I’m too cut up about him. They say he wasn’t entirely cut up himself when his old partner departed this life some years before. And ‘twould be a pity to let these fine goods go to waste. They should warrant twenty or so gold pieces, at the very least.

MIM: It certainly feels queer, robbing a man blind like this. Even a dead one.

CRUELLA: Why fret yourself, my dear? Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did.

GOTHEL: That’s true. And no man more so.

CRUELLA: Besides, who’s the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose.

MIM: (smiling) No, indeed!

GOTHEL: If he wanted to keep them after he was dead, the wicked old screw, why wasn’t he natural in his lifetime? If he had been, he’d have had somebody to look after him when he was dying, instead of lying there alone, gasping out his last.

CRUELLA: Come, let’s take these bundles and find out the value of these items. I’m not afraid to let ‘em see. We know as well as anyone that we were only helping ourselves. It’s no sin.

Scrooge watches the women leave, now more ill at ease than before.

SCROOGE: The poor man. I fear to know just whose death these people speak of. They can hardly mean the death of Jacob Marley, for that was past, and this province is the future. And Tiny Tim? What’s to be his fate?

The Ghost, silent as ever, motions for Scrooge to follow.