Β© 2022 Duleigh Lawrence-Townshend. All rights reserved. The author asserts the right to be identified as the author of this story for all portions. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review or commentary.
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens was first published 180 years ago in 1843. Since it was published it has been retold over and over in a myriad of forms. Many of the retellings are merely an attempt to reshape Victorian sensibilities and inject them into a modern setting and label it as a whole new take on the timeless classic when it is merely a Hallmark channel Christmas movie. I've had enough of that.
For my entry in the 2022 Winter Holiday Contest, I wanted to return a Christmas Carol to its roots, a ghost story that was meant to scare people. Instead of reviewing the haunted person's life, in my telling the spirits review somebody else's life, because these spirits have an ulterior motive for haunting our hapless heroine.
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A KRISSMAS KAROLE
In Prose.
Being
A Ghost Story of Christmas
.
Stave 1
It was a dark, cold, and wet Christmas Eve in Northern Colorado and Karole Krigbaum was fuming as she waited for her Uber. Incredibly tall with a beautiful face, natural platinum blond hair and a figure that drew stares from wherever she goes, large breasts, narrow waist, and sexy round hips and a southern accent as thick as sausage gravy. She has a body that any man would kill for, but she refuses to let any man near her, except for one. Her smile and her heart were saved for him, and his wife.
The weather was as undecided and as bleak as her future, it was cold, dark, and dreary with no sign of improving. The rain began to turn to light snow, and all that did was highlight her hatred of this holiday. She looked back at the warm dry lobby of Torgeson and Briggs Financial Consulting, bedecked in Yuletide decorations, there were garlands, ornaments, and tinsel hanging from every conceivable portion of the lobby filling the air with a false holiday cheer, bringing a
faux joyeux NoΓ«l
to the office of an accounting agency whose only claim to being a business was a phone bank. Torgeson and Briggs Financial Consulting was just a nasty, angry contract bill collecting agency and Karole just spent the day before Christmas harassing people to the brink of tears.
Fuck Christmas.
Tired of being cold and wet she went back inside to wait for her Uber, which was now ten minutes late. She stepped through the doors and turned around looking out onto the bleak Loveland Colorado parking lot, soon to be covered with a fine layer of ice. She was almost glad that the bank repossessed her pickup truck. It would get her home safely in this weather, but she couldn't afford gas for that beast. What about an electric car? Karole scoffed, why not just get a Rolls Royce? She couldn't afford an electric car let alone the extensive wiring job on the house needed to build a charging station.
As she looked out on the bleak, cold world a deep voice rumbled behind her. "Come on Miss Krigbaum, you know that no one is allowed to loiter in the lobby." She looked over her shoulder and there was Marly, the huge, as black as the night security guard. He was bearing down on her like a battleship charging toward an errant rowboat. His name was John Wilson, but he was called Marly by the bill collectors of Torgeson and Briggs Financial Consulting because of the unlit Marlboro hanging from his lips from the hour of 4:30 PM when management left, till whatever hour Marly left. They knew he had secret locations where he would light that smoke, the peons just never figured out where they were.
"Marly, it's raining outside, ah'm just waiting for my Uber, it will be here any time now."
"I can't let you do that Karole. You know that" he implored. Then he recited his script, "the lobby is for customer use only."
Karole looked around the lobby, bedecked in holiday cheer, resplendent in yuletide joy. All that there was for a customer to use was a couch, a chair, a coffee table, and a cashier's window where overdue bills with unreasonable interest fees were collected. A pair of people from the custodial staff appeared with a stack of plastic totes and began removing the Christmas decorations. "Ok, ah'm goin'," she groaned.
"Why don't you go across the lot to Don Pollo's for the office party?" asked Marly.
"Slam back a bunch of tequila in a room full of people ah detest working with? Not a brilliant career move."
"I hear ya." A smile crossed Marly's normally impassive face. Of the dozens of people that work here, Marly is the only person that Karole likes. "Karole, I have to ask you to step outside, it means both of our jobs."
"Sorry Marly. Hey, can ah bum a smoke offa you?" Marly eased a pack of Marlboro Red from his pocket and with an expert flick of the wrist he extended a cigarette halfway from the pack a offered it to Karole. "Thanks Marly," she said as she took the proffered smoke, "Got a light?"
Marly extended to her a small butane lighter, but he refused to release it when she tried to take it. The waiting room around them faded to black, the only thing she could see now was Marly who implored, "Karole, you have to let go of the hate, it will become an anchor chain around your neck."
"It's all ah have left," she responded, suddenly scared of the one man she has ever met that was taller than her. "Why are you bothering me?"
"It is required of every man," Marley replied, "that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes no forth in life..."
"Yeah, yeah, ah know the rest," sneered Karole, "Every English teacher ah ever had required me to do a report on a Christmas Carol because of my name." Her southern accent began to copy a British accent as she said, "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! Yadda yadda yadda, ah heard it all before. What cha gonna do, sic a buncha ghosts on me?"
His eyes narrowed as he softly growled, "You will be visited by two spirits and a ghost, their visit means more to you and your son than you could believe..."
"Screw that!" demanded Karole, "Scrooge was right "What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books..." well, ah balanced my books and ah got jack shit! Ah got nuttin for my daughter, and next week ah won't have a roof over ma haid!"
The intensity faded from his eyes and the color returned to the room. "Karole, please..." he said softly.
Panicked by his sudden change of personality without explanation Karole was finally able to pluck the lighter from his huge fingers and she put distance between herself and the guard as fast as possible. She flicked the lighter then lit her cigarette as she walked to the exit. The doors opened automatically, and she turned and tossed the lighter back to Marly. "There's no smoking in the lobby," he called out, shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs.