Marley's Ghost - A Short Story

“It is required of every man,’ the Ghost returned, ‘that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world-oh, woe is me!-and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness.’

- Jacob Marley

‘Business!’ cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. ‘Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!’ It held up its chain at arm’s length, as if that were the cause of all its unavailing grief, and flung it heavily upon the ground again.

- Jacob Marley

The story of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol

The tale of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol begins on Christmas Eve seven years after the death of Ebenezer Scrooge's business partner Jacob Marley. That night, the ghost of Jacob Marley appears before Scrooge. He is chained by steel cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses. He wears a bandage of sorts around his chin and tied on top of his head. Marley warns Scrooge that his soul will bear heavier chains for eternity if he does not change his greedy ways, and also predicts that a series of other ghosts will follow. The Ghost floats back out to the bleak dark night, a night that is filled with restless, wailing phantoms and this is the last we see of him.


Three Christmas ghosts visit Scrooge during the course of the night, fulfilling Marley's prophecy. The first, the Ghost of Christmas Past, takes Scrooge to the scenes of his boyhood and youth which stir the old skinflint's gentle and tender side. The second spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Present, takes Scrooge to the home of his nephew Fred to observe his game of Yes and No and to the humble dwelling of his clerk Bob Cratchit to observe his Christmas dinner. Here it is clear to Scrooge that Bob’s youngest child, the crippled Tiny Tim is not doing well at all. The third spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, harrows Scrooge with dire visions of the future if he does not learn and act upon what he has witnessed. Among the visions is the death of Tiny Tim, and Scrooge’s own lonely death.


When Scrooge wakes up on Christmas morning he is a changed man. Tiny Tim does not die as the ghost foretold. Scrooge goes about treating his fellow men with kindness, generosity, and compassion, and gains a reputation as a man who embodies the spirit of Christmas.

MARLEY’S GHOST
by
Doug Macphisto

arley wept.

He found himself walking past the old counting house, dragging his chains of steel cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses. Were he still alive, his muscles would have strengthened, thus making the load he carried more manageable. But Jacob Marley was not alive. And such was the nature of this realm that the burden never lessened. The poor Ghost walked for eternity, a silent witness, in a world of tenderness that he himself denied in life.

Often he would thrash about waving and swinging his chains and locks about, whilst witnessing even the smallest acts of kindness. A man opening a door for a stranger; a tip of a gentleman’s hat to a passing lady. Yes, Marley would scream through his bandaged-closed mouth for hours at such a sight.

Once, not so long ago (that is if such a thing as time existed), he was witness to a man and woman holding a newborn child, swaddled in blankets. It had seemed to Marley that the mother’s kisses were ever so tender and the father’s hand, resting on the babe’s head, was ever-so-light. Over this he screamed for what have been weeks to you or I.

And then he returned to his wandering, back down the streets of London, back to the counting house where his partner and only friend in life, Ebenezer Scrooge, had their business. The business of forging chains.

It seemed to Marley at that moment he had not seen Ebenezer in quite some time. No, he had not been at his home, neither was he at his regular melancholy tavern nor anywhere else that Marley could see. Now, why does that seem so strange? The old Ghost thought.

Marley gathered his chains once more and once gathered, he took a step forward.

And was stopped cold.

His chains clinked softly. With vacant, unseeing eyes, Marley gathered his chains again and marched forth.

Once more he was stopped without taking a single step.

A third attempt was just as fruitless.

He tried again and again. And after that he tried a dozen more times. It was as though it had only ever happened a single time. At some point, Marley finally looked behind him, down the winding length of chain to a single cash-box wrapped around a warmly glowing lamp post at waist height. It is fair to say that this post was the only warm looking thing in all of this dark and dismal land of shadow.

This was the sight that brought Marley to his present state of weeping. A tiny crushed mouse sounded less pitiful than his cries.

Marley had passed through buildings and people without a single reaction. Why now should his burden be wound around this particular post? But that was the very nature of this world, was it not? There were no rules in such a place, a place of torment. In fact, Marley had already convinced himself that if anything at all could make his misery more…well, miserable, it was sure to happen.

Still weeping, the ghost gathered his chains and gave them what we would call a meaningful tug. He shook them and rattled them, he pulled with all of his will (which admittedly, was very little). Exhausted, Marley threw down his chains and howled through his tightly-clamped mouth.

Passing spirits joined in, like a gaggle of lunatics. Some screamed at him for disturbing them, others screamed just to drown him out. Other’s screamed because no pain or frustration could possibly be greater than their own, or so they thought. Those were the loudest of the bunch.

“Leave me be,” Marley cried through clenched teeth. “Bother me no more.”

To which the surrounded crowd of ghosts replied: “Leave me be. Bother me no more.”

Every curse and every moan from Marley’s dead lips were mimicked in kind by the horde. Marley stood there and continued to weep. Simply stood there. The poor fellow didn’t even have the good sense to lie down and rest a moment. Eventually the ghosts wandered away, one by one, leaving Marley alone again silent and as still as a dead wind.

A giggle made him stir. A soft giggle and a voice that said:

“Jacob Marley, why do you linger here so?”

At first it sounded like the giggle of a very small child, but then, to Marley at least, it also sounded like his own laugh. When he was alive, it was an extremely rare moment to catch Jacob Marley laughing. And if he did it was usually over seeing an old woman topple over on the sidewalk, or after racking his cane on the hindquarters of some young child racing by. A cruel laugh to be sure, but this giggle sounded like his own had it known to laugh without being at another’s expense.

Laughter, the ghost thought. He had not thought of his own laughter, not once, since he had passed away. Oh, he was witness to much laughter wandering these lost streets of lost souls. Children playing, adults making merry at a Christmas party; never able to join in. But his own laughter? No, there had been only wailing and thrashing about.

Christmas, he wondered. Now what did that remind him of?

“I know that laugh,” he moaned, “Ebenezer.”

Turning he saw his old partner, Ebenezer Scrooge standing beneath the lamp post, the very lamp his chain was inexplicably wrapped around, tethered and drifting in the darkness. Of course the post was the very post that sat just outside of the old Scrooge and Marley counting house.

“Ebenezer,” Marley whispered through clenched teeth, blank eyes twitching. “I have searched for you these many days.” A confused look came over his face. “Why have I not seen you?”

“Why do you weep?” came a voice from Ebenezer that clearly did not belong to him. Marley did not recognize the voice, and he suspected now that he did not recognize this apparition.

“I weep for what I have lost. For what I had never gained, nor reached for in life.”

“Will you not come closer, Jacob?” said the apparition who no longer looked like Mr. Scrooge. As it spoke its features changed like melting wax. For a moment Marley could see spectacles resting on a forehead, and then it seemed he could see a small child. But mostly it was a shimmering form of light. Not the same light coming from the post, but a whiteness that was often hard to look at directly.

“Will you not come closer, Jacob?” the spirit repeated.

“I shall,” mumbled Marley gathering his chain and shuffling forward. When Marley stopped, it was just outside of the circle of light and the spirit giggled again.

“Come, remove your kerchief and speak freely.”

Marley stood and stared with his chains gathered in his arms. “It is not permitted.”

A ghost passed by just then and thinking Marley had spoken to him said: “You don‘t own this walkway. Leave me be. Leave me be.” Marley did not meet the passer-by’s eyes. The ghost peered at Marley, and then at the lamp post. Seeing nothing at all of interest in both locations, the ghost continued along his sad way, mumbling to himself.

When they were quite alone again, the voice said with a smile: “Not permitted? You did so once before.”

This struck Marley with such a force, his body and chains quivered at the mere thought of it. “Before?”

The chains lightly chimed and then drew still.

“You haven’t forgotten have you? You did it once before. Do you not recollect?”

“I…I…yes…I…once. No. No! I do not recall.”

“Do you remember his bedroom Jacob? That special night? Who was it you spoke to?”

For a moment the specter looked like Ebenezer Scrooge again.

“Yes, yes, you do remember, don’t you?”

“Ebenezer I have searched for you these many days. Why have I not seen you?”

The specter floated forward, completely featureless now. Marley gasped at the spirit’s approach. The soft warm beauty of the spirit, squeezed a single tear from Marley’s eyes. This spirit was the only warmth Marley had ever experienced since passing away. It was like the first ray of spring sunlight that brings about the end of a snowy winter.

The glow of the spirit pressed against Marley’s features.

“Won’t you undo your kerchief?”

Lips trembling, milky-white eyes frantically searching to focus on something other than the light, Marley spoke through his clenched teeth: “It is not…permitted.”

“Who governs this rule?”

“Penance governs over me and my kind. Penance and her sisters Justice and Truth.”

Like a wickless flame, the spirit retreated away from Marley, back under the lamp. “You have already done your Penance Jacob. Surely you have not failed to remember this as well?”

Marley stammered.

“Yes, you remember this place.”

The ghost and the spirit now stood apart from each other in a bedchamber that had two sitting chairs facing each other in front of a fireplace.

“Ebenezer? Where are you?” Marley looked about the room and then turned back to the spirit. “Where has my old friend vanished to?”

The spirit floated over to the door that was double-locked. “It was not his custom to lock his bedchamber’s door. Yet he did so on that night. He was not keeping the world locked outside. Ebenezer kept his heart locked away from himself. You entered through here, do you not recall?”

Marley shifted his feet to look at the door, dragging his chains to the very spot he spoke with Ebenezer.

“Undo your kerchief, Jacob, so we can speak more openly to each other.”

Marley’s mouth quivered. “Do you command this thing of me?”

The spirit answered with a soft giggle.

With great care, the old ghost reached above his head and undid the knotted kerchief. On the other side, in life, these kerchiefs were used on corpses to keep their mouths from suddenly and quite unexpectedly popping open. Marley’s mouth opened with an audible pop.

The spirit came forth, shining on the side of Marley’s face.

“Come and sit with me,” the light glided across the room and came to rest on the chair furthest away. Marley did not move.

“Can you sit down?” the voice asked.

“I can.”

Still Marley did not move.

“Why do you still stand there, my friend?”

“It is too late for me. I forged these chains in life and in death I am bound to them. This is my Penance and I willingly carry this burden as Justice demands.”

The bedchamber quickly melted away at that and the ghost found himself once again tethered to the post, still at the edge of darkness.

“That does not sound very just to me,” giggled the spirit.

“That is not for me to judge. Justice is impartial, as was my attitude toward my fellow man. Justice is fair. If it is seemingly unfair, it is because one is deserving of it.”

“Who was it that sent you to your friend Ebenezer that night, so very long ago?”

Marley’s milky-white eyes searched. “I was sent as part of my penance.”

“Yes Jacob Marley, so have you said.” The spirit floated around, closer to the edge of darkness. “Who was it that sent you?”

Panicked, searching, sightless eyes. The links of chains clinked with struggle. Frustration at having no answer.

“I was sent as part of my penance.”

“My, you are a stubborn one Jacob Marley. Very stubborn indeed.”

Marley raised his right arm showing a particularly heavy box of metal. “Stubbornness,” he said and lowered his arm. His left he raised raising a heavy padlock with it and said: “Indifference.” Lowering it Marley kicked at a ledger resting at his feet. “Cruelty. There are so many more.”

“Do you know how it was you came to him that night?”

Marley shook his head, ever so slowly, chains crinkling. “I do not. I was sent as…”

The spirit waived a hand of dismissal. “Yes, yes, as part of your Penance. I have grown quite weary of that refrain.” It said this with a bright smile and not as snide as you would immediately think. Nor was there anything reproachful about it.

“Tell me of that night Jacob. What thoughts played in your mind?”

Marley turned to the sign of the counting house as his thoughts turned back to that night. His mouth moved fish-like without a sound. He stammered and gripped his chains.

“I observed Ebenezer from the hour of his awakening through his daily dealings. His shameful treatment of Cratchit. Yet in his manner I saw only myself and it seemed to me my chains were heavier on that day. Yes, my heart was as heavy as steel. Yet my burden seemed light compared to this man who was my partner in life. Ebenezer had been an eager student and I was his teacher.”

Marley howled and thrashed about his accessories with great vigor. “His own chains, chains he himself could not see, were like the gong of a bell tower in my ears. It was the din of his tragic orchestra that called to me.”

The spirit came closer, pushing away a little of the shadow on Marley’s face so that now only his back was to the dark. “So you were not sent after all?”

The old ghost took no heed, lost in the torment of his memories.

“Those chains called to me and I was filled with pity. I could not turn myself away. Poor, old and alone and miserly Ebenezer. Wholly unaware of his burden. I fear he was quite terrified when I entered his chambers. Yes, I recall now. It was the three ghosts who sent me. The Trinity of Past, Present and Yet to Come. They bade me speak to this wretched creature.”

The spirit whispered around to Marley’s back. “It is said that man has three faces, Jacob. Mind, Body and Spirit. The Body is always concerned with the past. Its bruises and cuts. The Mind always frets about the future, about what may or may not be. Oh, shall I ever have enough? And the Spirit is ever present. Ever-now.”

Marley’s eyes widened in fear. “Spirit? Where have you gone? I cannot see you.”

With another giggle, the spirit came around and gave color to Marley’s face.

“It was Ebenezer who called for me and I answered.”

“Mayhap there is a third possibility, Jacob.”

“My time was short,” continued Marley, “and in my rage I demanded from him whether he believed in me or not. The Three Ghosts whispered to me, passing along their chance and hope. Daresay, I was glad for their words. Alas, my Fate does not allow such gladness for long.”

Something in the distance caught Marley’s eye and he reached out with a hand and walked in its direction, chains dragging behind him.

“Ebenezer I have searched for you these many days, why have I not seen you?”
The slack of his chain came tight and still tethered to the lamp post, it yanked Marley backwards. Whatever he thought he saw in that moment disappeared altogether.

He stood now on the opposite side of the circle of light. Away from the spirit and peering into darkness. The spirit floated closer, only a hands length away. The darkness between, however, could have been just a sliver, yet still it would make for an unfathomable abyss between them.

“What happened next, Jacob?”

The old Ghost looked this way and that, hearing, but not seeing. Marley took hold of each end of his bandage and brought it beneath his chin.

“The time given to me has expired.”

The two ends of the kerchief were brought together atop his head.

“I bid thee farewell.”

“Jacob, no, you must not…” the spirit reached out shining its light on Marley‘s back, but it did not touch Marley.

The old Ghost hesitated and then roped one end of the wrapper over the other.

“Jacob…”

Once more he hesitated, looking around with his blank eyes. At last he tightened the two ends and his mouth clamped together with a snap.

“Jacob…”

Marley took a step to return to his endless wanderings. The chain snagged and he stumbled back two steps so that now his back was in the glow of the lamp light.

“Jacob Marley? Why do you linger here so?”

And Marley mumbled as if well-rehearsed: “It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness.”

“Required? Required by whom?” said the spirit, gliding in closer and spiralling around Marley’s form.

“The one who shackled me and gave me the means to forge these chains. It is enough to know that it is required. Fare thee well spirit.”

Marley went to walk again and felt that all-too familiar tug. He turned and walked in a different direction this time, dragging his chains along until it snagged again.

“Why Jacob? Why do you linger here? What holds you so?”

The old Ghost raised the single chain that is wrapped around the post and shakes it violently. “My burden has become ensnared around that lamp.”

Leaving Marley for the moment, the spirit went over to the post and studied it very carefully.

“I am very sorry to say I see nothing here that shackles you dear Jacob.”

“Notwithstanding, I remain ensnared.” He rattled his chain to prove his point.

“I see nothing here at the light.”

Grim-faced, Marley pulls on his chain to show the tension in the links.

“How is it that you speak so freely now?”

The kerchief that he himself had tied only a moment ago, indeed had somehow come undone without poor Marley realizing.

“I…I…”

“Will you not come and see for yourself there is nothing here, Jacob?”

A loud screech filled the air, another damned soul passing over. Marley’s hands jerked at the sound of it, his face frozen in terror. As if to escape the howling, wailing voice, the old Ghost shuffled forward. Standing beneath the post, he still hears that terrible wailing.

“I know those cries all too well.”

“Be not afraid, my friend. Here, come see.”

Marley looked and saw just what he had always seen.

“It is as I expected. The chain is fastened to the post.” A pitiful cry escaped his lips. “Why do you torment me, spirit?”

Marley gave the chain a yank and then heaved a sigh. “I am not even free to wander.” What little freedom he had roaming these streets had just been taken away from him. The old Ghost could see that he was doomed to stand in this one spot for the rest of eternity; at the mercy of any passing ghost.

“Is that all you see poor, poor Jacob?”

Marley gave the spirit a slow, somber kind of a nod. For a while Marley’s eyes did not leave the spot where his chain was neatly tied.

Without the need for clocks and time and such things in that world, it would be difficult to say just how long they stood there staring at the chain. Seemingly it would have felt like months to you or I, so it would suffice to say a great moment of silence ensued.

“Who are you spirit?” Marley asked.

The spirit flashed a bright and gay smile and gave what not even Marley could argue as a good natured laugh.

The hand of the spirit gently touched Marley on the arm. The old ghost reacted as though stung. An image flashed before his tired eyes. It was not a chain at all that was tied to the post, but a gnarled talon, gripping with all of its might. Marley was convinced the hand belonged to a daemon. And that hand was his doom.

“Look again, dear friend.”

“Forgive me Ebenezer. I dare not.”

“Ebenezer has been gone these many years, dear Jacob. Come, look again my good fellow.”

The daemon’s hand flashed before his vision once again sending Marley into a howling fit. He nearly dropped to his knees at the sight such was his terror. His chin he buried into his chest.
The spirit’s glowing hand reached under Marley’s chin and gently lifted his chin up. “Look…” it whispered.

It was no daemon’s claw keeping him tethered, but his own Ghostly hand. It was his own arm that slightly bent at the elbow Marley had mistaken as a loosely hanging chain.

“Look…” the spirit pointed to Marley’s chest.

The chains that once criss-crossed over his chest were now gone. In their place were arms of light, holding him softly.

Marley slowly lifted his arms, feeling for the first time the weightlessness of them, or rather not feeling anything at all which is far better than those dreadful steel boxes. Tears filled his eyes yet again.

“They were never chains Jacob.”

“Who are you spirit? If you are not Ebenezer, I know naught who you might be.”

“Look…”

Jacob Marley wept.

And there, standing before him was his own self. He looked just the way he did the day he died. Spectacles resting on his brow, his usual waistcoat, tights and boots. There was no ghostly white about him. This was Marley with true color to his cheeks. And he was smiling. It was then that Marley discovered his face, when smiling, was quite beautiful.

Marley went over to the vision of his own self, arms open for an embrace and just like that the vision and the spirit was gone. He stood alone now. For a moment, a frightfully terrifying moment, Marley thought he had been tricked and this was just another cruel torment he was forced to bear. But when old Marley looked at his own outstretched hands, he saw the warmth in them, the color that had been lacking for so long. He looked himself over and was overjoyed to see that the chains were still gone. His ghostly hue but a terrible memory.

It had been himself all along. It was his arm and hand that had clamped down on the lamp post. The chains across his chest were his very own arms (and if this seems quite impossible to be holding your own self from behind, just remember what Ebenezer Scrooge once said: They (the spirits that is) can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can.)

Marley laughed heartily at this. And his eyes were full of happy tears.

“Nay,” he said to himself, “Tears are never happy. ‘Tis joy and love that pushes out the sadness and bitterness of life. Like a pocket of air rising in the water.”


The light of the lamp post grew wider and wider, until finally it shone across every building and every thoroughfare. Marley was still surrounded by other ghosts, but they too were warm in color and not at all bothered by his laughter. In fact, passer-by’s would good-naturedly join in with him.

And Jacob Marley wept no more.







AUTHOR’S NOTE:

When the idea for this story came to me, I pictured Jacob Marley wandering through the streets of Charles Dickens’ London for centuries. But it is just as possible that this story takes place immediately after the events of A Christmas Carol.

Each time I have encountered the story of Ebenezer Scrooge, no matter in what form, I am always struck by how completely unfair it is to poor Jacob Marley to never be free of his torment. The idea of being condemned for all eternity (clearly a Christian concept) just doesn’t hold water with me since it is lacking completely in compassion. I always felt terribly sad for poor Marley who was instrumental in Scrooge‘s salvation. As I said, it was unfair that he was not rewarded for stepping in when he did.

And so my mind would always wander out the window of Ebenezer’s bedroom, in pursuit of Jacob Marley. Where was he? What was he up to now? And what if this story picks up sometime after Ebenezer Scrooge has finally passed away and would presumably be in heaven and therefore out of reach to Marley?

To my surprise I found him still wandering the streets of 1800 London completely alone with not even Scrooge to follow about. It seemed to me that redemption as told in all of the great mythical stories (including the Bible) is available only by turning inward. It is not a place that is separate from here and now. It is available here and now and available to everyone. It was not God’s judgement that sentenced Marley to Purgatory, it was Marley who condemned himself and thereby acted as his own savior.

Everybody loves the story of Ebenezer Scrooge’s redemption. It is up there with George Bailey and Anakin Skywalker! But I would ask that you spare a thought for poor old Jacob Marley this season for he would tell you that God does not judge and does not condemn man for his ‘sins’. Those are inventions of man.

Merry Christmas!