Marley's Ghost

The Funeral

     Marley was dead; to begin with. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. He didn't know he was dead. No, all that he knew was that he was slowly floating upward toward a dirt-encrusted ceiling of a foul-smelling hospital room. He was feeling anxious as his face neared the rotted wooden ceiling.

"What is happening?" he wondered. Marley actually winced as his nose pushed into the wood and through it. He emerged on the other side in a cramped, dank, rat infested crawl space just under the roof of the old hospital. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to understand the events taking place all around him. As he finally rose up past the weather-beaten shingles into the darkness of the night sky, he was starting to realize his predicament. He remembered how that last coughing fit had been so violent, and how cold he had felt afterward.

"I am dead," he realized. Some people may have been upset by this news but Jacob couldn't have cared less. He had hated his life and was starting to look forward to what would come next. His soul was growing and he was beginning to understand things he had never known while he walked upon the earth. No, old Marley didn't mind being as dead as a doornail, not in the slightest. In fact, he was thrilled. He felt better than he had ever felt while he was alive, and as he rose up toward the blissful solitude of the distant stars, he began to weep.

"I am free! No more fighting to get ahead," he cried, "finally a chance to find some peace." Marley continued rising above the earth. He had read that the earth was round, but now as the giant blue orb fell away from him; he realized what a perfect sphere it was. The magnificence of death was taking hold of old Jacob Marley and he was smiling, something that he hadn't done in a very long time. Soon a glistening speck of light appeared off in the distance. At first he thought it was a star, but it was growing in size so quickly that he knew it was something different. He could almost make out the form of the glowing wall as he continued hurtling through space. He could feel an unbridled force emanating from the distant brilliance. He wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling until he was so close he could almost touch it. He instantly realized that The force that was being given off by the giant doorway of Light... was love.

It had been so long since Jacob had allowed himself to feel any love at all, and now he was faced with an abundance of it. It looked like an enormous waterfall, except instead of a wall of falling water it appeared to be a wall of light. As the beleaguered spirit stared into the brilliant cascade he began to feel a giddy excitement  Rising within him.

" The gates of Heaven," he thought to himself, "they are real." He looked down to see his transparent hand slowly rising up to meet the rushing glow. He quickly thrust his shimmering fingers into the lightfall. He was so happy to finally be coming home after a very lonely life. However, to his horror, instead of pleasure Jacob felt nothing but agony, as his hand moved forward. His fingers shriveled into bony twigs and were immediately covered in icicles. An icy burning sensation shot up his arm and he yanked the withered hand free. A transparent metallic shackle was now bound tightly around his wrist. Covering the surface of the flow he could see a memory from his early childhood. After his drunken father had squandered away the last of the family's savings, debt collectors had come for everything they owned. Finally, in desperation, Marley's abusive father sold him to a workhouse.

"I hate you!" he heard his childhood self yelling at his semi-conscious father, "I hope you drink what is in that bottle until you die." Jacob had never seen his family after that day. It was one of the bitterest memories of his life. He shook his head trying to shake off the sadness. He knew nothing would heal his pain except what awaited him beyond the luminous gate.

"I don't understand," he begged, "Why won't you let me in?" This time he pushed his left hand into the icy chill. Again, a frigid heat raced up his arms as his fingers withered and died. He jerked his hand out of the light and, just as before, he found himself bound by a transparent manacle around his wrist. Marley felt his blood boiling. This was an outrage! Once again a memory of his youth lit up in front of him. It had taken place a few years after the first. He was still working off his father's debt at the workhouse.