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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Fairy Tale / Folk Tale
- Published: 12/08/2016
Mr. Screege.
Born 1951, M, from Wilmington NC, United StatesMr. Screege was in his usual mood; pleasant. It was Christmas Eve, and he had to get all the ghosts ready and assigned to their particular petulant clients. Ever since Dickens had written that tremendously popular book (one that Mortals thought was Fiction) he had been beleaguered every Christmas by the grumpy, vile, petty, and sometimes inconsolable detritus of Society- the selfish while alive.
He often wondered how Human Society had stayed extant for so long, why it had not gone extinct from its own actions and deeds. Yet, in a way, he could understand, for even in Death, (which is just a tad to late, by the way, to find out you were supposed to share, be kind, and tolerant) the numbers of former living Human Beings who queued up as early as August to go back and help change the course of a relative, friend, or business associates life- well, it brought tears to his eyes.
But here they were. The self same: mean, petty, inconsiderate, selfish, manipulative (and you could adjective yourself to death here, and not find a single uplifting modifier) Humans, at least when they were among the living. Now, all of them queued up quietly for months, hoping for a chance to go back and lead someone to the side of Charity in earnest. It was Screege’s job to make sure that they got that chance to help heal the souls of both the living, and the ghosts. It kept him very busy. It was also very rewarding, when like Ebenezer Scrooge, it works!
A sad smile drifted like a dark thought across Mr. Screege’s face. For in the queued up group in front of him, stood many who had withstood the onslaught of Spirits on Christmas Eve. The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, were not enough to sway their stalwart indifference to Mankind in General, and Love in particular. Yet, even so, here they were, standing in line, hoping to make a difference in some other poor lout’s life. Finally understanding that they could have changed, should have changed, and maybe now- even this late in the process, have changed. Hope, is truly eternal.
The Spirits of Christmas Past could only guide one soul on Christmas Eve. For the Spirits of that ilk could not change a single iota of the scenes they showed the miscreants they guided. When they returned from their allotted hour on Earth, many of them needed to be alone with their thoughts. Some needed companionship and silent understanding. Some were so torn and weary by the bleakness in the lives they shuttled back and forth between memories, that they had to drink from the horn of the milk of human kindness themselves. Many of them would not volunteer again for decades. Mr. Screege understood their plight. For the Spirits were as unable to change anything in the Past, as any living thing was. What was done - is done. No amount of regret, guilt, shame, or fear, could change a single moment that had passed. That took a toll on the usually loving, gay, spry, happy Christmas Spirits assigned as guides to the “last chance to change for the good” stubborn humans.
NOTE: Technically, there is no real “Last Chance.” Recovery of the full spectrum of loving, kind, and caring human emotion is possible at any moment, including that final breath. If a heartfelt, sincere, honest wish (or prayer) for forgiveness, reached the level of consciousness, well, the Boss would wipe the slate clean, even that late in the game of life. Mr. Scrooge had witnessed a few of those last second transformations. While beautiful to watch, they were rare uncommon events.
The last minute wails of the ones who just don’t want to own their actions while on earth, and somehow escape their fate at the last minute, well, those were as common as sweaters in the Fall, or rude remarks in the comment section of YouTube videos. Those last minute prayers, bereft of accountability were dismissed out of hand. “Here are your fetters. There is the window. Roam and watch until you learn.” The poor still sobbing saps would be flung out the window to circle the globe, seeing atrocities galore, but unable to impede on a single one. It hurt to watch. But, sometimes, just sometimes, those fettered souls would start to be concerned for someone other than themselves. After a while, they would try and intrude on the living, and when that didn’t work out, well…they came to see Mr. Screege.
The Spirits of Christmas Present, well, they tended to be okay after a sojourn with a Human hoping to mend the ways of someone the human knew while alive. Mr. Screege always thought that was because the Spirits of Christmas Present saw so many of the good people on their travels. How many Humans do have a true sense of the season. Even people who don’t celebrate Christmas for religious or secular reasons, seem to understand that it is okay to be grateful, joyful, and giving, at least once in a year. The Spirits of Christmas Present get to see that joy unfold in real time, all over the earth. So the dark and crippling mood of the one human they are here to help guide to a better future, does not overwhelm them. In most cases, they come back to Mr. Screege a bit dampened, but cheerful again in mere moments, as the Spirits return from their wanderings and get caught right back up in the Festiveness, and Festivities of the Season.
The Spirits of Christmas’s yet to come, well Mr. Screege and them spend long months discussing the philosophical implications of their work. Is it Fate? Is it Destiny? "Or are these merely the shadows of things that could be, but are not yet?” Even the Spirits of Christmas’s yet to come, do not know how their visitation on Christmas Morning (Usually around three AM- since the other two Spirits show up when the bell strikes One. Then when the bell strikes two, and finally, last but not least, the last Spirit shows up as the bell strikes three.
Some return weary, not knowing which way the Human will turn. Some return with a twinkle in their eyes and a cheery comment: “They could write a sequel to Scrooge off of this man’s turn of heart!” Some return with a sad smile: “I tried.”
Well, it is almost time for the bell to strike One. Screege hurried the first of the batch of Ghosts and Spirits to their assigned windows, doors, bedchambers, and even office doors. It took a bit of work, and some prodding to get everyone placed just so. Then, well the bell struck one. Mr. Screege would be to busy for the next three hours to take any breaks at all. Then it would be Christmas Morning, all the Spirits and Ghosts would return from their early morning shifts. Then Human ghosts, and eternal Spirits alike, would join in a toast. A toast led by Mr. Screege and offered with a sip of the Milk of Human Kindness, the shouts of : “Here! Here!” could be heard all over the Spirit world, and Spirits who did not work this night of the year, would join in the toast too.
“Merry Christmas. God Bless us, every one!”
by Kevin Hughes.
Mr. Screege.(Kevin Hughes)
Mr. Screege was in his usual mood; pleasant. It was Christmas Eve, and he had to get all the ghosts ready and assigned to their particular petulant clients. Ever since Dickens had written that tremendously popular book (one that Mortals thought was Fiction) he had been beleaguered every Christmas by the grumpy, vile, petty, and sometimes inconsolable detritus of Society- the selfish while alive.
He often wondered how Human Society had stayed extant for so long, why it had not gone extinct from its own actions and deeds. Yet, in a way, he could understand, for even in Death, (which is just a tad to late, by the way, to find out you were supposed to share, be kind, and tolerant) the numbers of former living Human Beings who queued up as early as August to go back and help change the course of a relative, friend, or business associates life- well, it brought tears to his eyes.
But here they were. The self same: mean, petty, inconsiderate, selfish, manipulative (and you could adjective yourself to death here, and not find a single uplifting modifier) Humans, at least when they were among the living. Now, all of them queued up quietly for months, hoping for a chance to go back and lead someone to the side of Charity in earnest. It was Screege’s job to make sure that they got that chance to help heal the souls of both the living, and the ghosts. It kept him very busy. It was also very rewarding, when like Ebenezer Scrooge, it works!
A sad smile drifted like a dark thought across Mr. Screege’s face. For in the queued up group in front of him, stood many who had withstood the onslaught of Spirits on Christmas Eve. The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, were not enough to sway their stalwart indifference to Mankind in General, and Love in particular. Yet, even so, here they were, standing in line, hoping to make a difference in some other poor lout’s life. Finally understanding that they could have changed, should have changed, and maybe now- even this late in the process, have changed. Hope, is truly eternal.
The Spirits of Christmas Past could only guide one soul on Christmas Eve. For the Spirits of that ilk could not change a single iota of the scenes they showed the miscreants they guided. When they returned from their allotted hour on Earth, many of them needed to be alone with their thoughts. Some needed companionship and silent understanding. Some were so torn and weary by the bleakness in the lives they shuttled back and forth between memories, that they had to drink from the horn of the milk of human kindness themselves. Many of them would not volunteer again for decades. Mr. Screege understood their plight. For the Spirits were as unable to change anything in the Past, as any living thing was. What was done - is done. No amount of regret, guilt, shame, or fear, could change a single moment that had passed. That took a toll on the usually loving, gay, spry, happy Christmas Spirits assigned as guides to the “last chance to change for the good” stubborn humans.
NOTE: Technically, there is no real “Last Chance.” Recovery of the full spectrum of loving, kind, and caring human emotion is possible at any moment, including that final breath. If a heartfelt, sincere, honest wish (or prayer) for forgiveness, reached the level of consciousness, well, the Boss would wipe the slate clean, even that late in the game of life. Mr. Scrooge had witnessed a few of those last second transformations. While beautiful to watch, they were rare uncommon events.
The last minute wails of the ones who just don’t want to own their actions while on earth, and somehow escape their fate at the last minute, well, those were as common as sweaters in the Fall, or rude remarks in the comment section of YouTube videos. Those last minute prayers, bereft of accountability were dismissed out of hand. “Here are your fetters. There is the window. Roam and watch until you learn.” The poor still sobbing saps would be flung out the window to circle the globe, seeing atrocities galore, but unable to impede on a single one. It hurt to watch. But, sometimes, just sometimes, those fettered souls would start to be concerned for someone other than themselves. After a while, they would try and intrude on the living, and when that didn’t work out, well…they came to see Mr. Screege.
The Spirits of Christmas Present, well, they tended to be okay after a sojourn with a Human hoping to mend the ways of someone the human knew while alive. Mr. Screege always thought that was because the Spirits of Christmas Present saw so many of the good people on their travels. How many Humans do have a true sense of the season. Even people who don’t celebrate Christmas for religious or secular reasons, seem to understand that it is okay to be grateful, joyful, and giving, at least once in a year. The Spirits of Christmas Present get to see that joy unfold in real time, all over the earth. So the dark and crippling mood of the one human they are here to help guide to a better future, does not overwhelm them. In most cases, they come back to Mr. Screege a bit dampened, but cheerful again in mere moments, as the Spirits return from their wanderings and get caught right back up in the Festiveness, and Festivities of the Season.
The Spirits of Christmas’s yet to come, well Mr. Screege and them spend long months discussing the philosophical implications of their work. Is it Fate? Is it Destiny? "Or are these merely the shadows of things that could be, but are not yet?” Even the Spirits of Christmas’s yet to come, do not know how their visitation on Christmas Morning (Usually around three AM- since the other two Spirits show up when the bell strikes One. Then when the bell strikes two, and finally, last but not least, the last Spirit shows up as the bell strikes three.
Some return weary, not knowing which way the Human will turn. Some return with a twinkle in their eyes and a cheery comment: “They could write a sequel to Scrooge off of this man’s turn of heart!” Some return with a sad smile: “I tried.”
Well, it is almost time for the bell to strike One. Screege hurried the first of the batch of Ghosts and Spirits to their assigned windows, doors, bedchambers, and even office doors. It took a bit of work, and some prodding to get everyone placed just so. Then, well the bell struck one. Mr. Screege would be to busy for the next three hours to take any breaks at all. Then it would be Christmas Morning, all the Spirits and Ghosts would return from their early morning shifts. Then Human ghosts, and eternal Spirits alike, would join in a toast. A toast led by Mr. Screege and offered with a sip of the Milk of Human Kindness, the shouts of : “Here! Here!” could be heard all over the Spirit world, and Spirits who did not work this night of the year, would join in the toast too.
“Merry Christmas. God Bless us, every one!”
by Kevin Hughes.
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