A Christmas Carol- The Aftermath

It was the night after Christmas when there arose such a commotion in the street below that I had to tear open the shutters and through up the sash to see what was going on. The clattering sound that woke me was a police wagon being pulled by two stout horses. The disturbance was happening directly below my window so that I could hear everyone’s conversation.

“Take your hands off me! Where are you taking me? Don’t you understand? I’m the victim here!” bellowed Ebenezer Scrooge at the bobbies as they dragged him to the Paddy Wagon.

“It’s that Bob Cratchit who set this whole thing up—him and that son of his, Tim. They’re the real criminals, conning me out of all my money. Why won’t you stop for one minute and hear me out?”

Bob Cratchit and Tim watched the scene with Scrooge and the police play out in the street in front of what was about to become his newly acquired money-lending establishment. Bob turned to the detective working the case. “It’s a real shame about the old man. I’ve worked for him most of my adult life and tried to tell him he was losing his grip on reality. I even invited him to our house for Christmas dinner just to ease the pressure he was under for a while.”

Constable Holmes looked over his notes and said, “According to your statement, you told the responding officers that Mr. Scrooge claimed to see ghosts. He also thought your son Tim was crippled and walked with the aid of crutches. Is that correct, sir?”

“Yes, constable, that’s correct. After rambling on about ghosts, I felt he might become a danger to himself and my family, so that’s when I called the police. Once Ebenezer realized his money was lost because of terrible investments, his mind couldn’t take the strain.

“Where will you take Uncle Ebenezer?” asked Tim.

“To Bedlam Asylum for the Insane, where they will look after him until he’s well.” Replied Constable Holmes.

“Well, it’s good to know he’ll be well cared for. Merry Christmas to you and your men. Have a good night.” Tim told the police as they left with Scrooge.

From out of the shadows, Fred, Ebenezer’s actual nephew, stepped forward to join Bob and Tim. “I’m amazed at how easy that was. You really are a wiz at cooking the books, Bob. Tim is a natural-born actor.”

“Well, your ghost portrayals are worthy of an award. You almost had me believing they were real,” said Tim.

What will you do with your share of the proceeds?” inquired Fred.

“I’m going to take you up on your offer to buy me out. I already have a buyer for our house. Once everything is completed, we’re going to move somewhere warm. I’ve had it with the London fog. Time for the wife and I to live the good life in southern France. Tim is heading off to school in America. Merry Christmas, Fred. Enjoy your newfound wealth. I know we will, and the dickens with Ebenezer Scrooge!”

I was stunned at what I had just overheard. Quick as a flash, I pulled back from the window and bounded down the stairs, hoping to catch the scoundrels before they dispersed. My hand hovered over the doorknob for just a second, then I drew it back.

Why should I inter-fear? I’ve lived across from the old man’s business for fifteen years and in all that time, he never once said hello or even acknowledged my existence. He got the lump of coal that he deserved, and as for me, I want back to bed pleased at how well this Christmas ended.