By Stoney M. Setzer
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so cold. The temperature outside was part of it, of course. So was our agreement to burn only one piece of coal at a time. Coal wasn’t cheap, and it was only December 24th, with many harsh winter days ahead.
Still, there was more to it than that. Marley and I had not spoken beyond our typical morning greetings. We were under the same roof, but I might as well have been alone. I hadn’t even inquired about the big bandage encircling his head from crown to chin, largely because he wouldn’t tell me anything even if I asked.
Not that being alone mattered. I hadn’t cared about that since Belle had left me. Not really.
I glanced out the window at the Christmas decor adorning the streets. “Bah, humbug,” I muttered, trying to ignore it…
A burly man burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him. My attention was drawn toward the pistol peeking out of his overcoat pocket. “Jacob Marley!” he snarled.
Marley stood, his chin raised haughtily. “Roland Bristol. Have you come to bring your back payment?”
“This time I’m here to make you pay!” Roland growled.
Marley raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten that you are in debt to me?”
“How could I forget that? Keeping your interest paid is the reason I couldn’t afford a doctor for my Esther! She’s dead now because of you!”
I shuddered in spite of myself, as if an icy wind had blown through the countinghouse. Marley didn’t flinch.
“And you expect that to bring her back?” He sneered. “You’ve worked out a trade with the Grim Reaper, then? My life for hers?”
I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. Roland aimed the pistol directly at his head, and yet Marley taunted him. Had he gone mad?
Roland began to tremble. “What kind of foolish question is that? That’s—”
“Not that you’d be enough of a businessman to make such a deal even if you could.” Marley smirked and shook his head. “Killing me wouldn’t improve your lot at all, would it?”
Roland shook so badly that he couldn’t hold his weapon steady. No doubt my life now hung in the balance as well. If Roland killed Marley, surely he would shoot me as well so that I couldn’t testify against him. I had to do something if I wanted to survive.
Moving in slow increments so as not to draw attention to myself, I inched out from behind the desk.
“I’d know that you paid for what you did to us!” Even Roland’s voice shook now.
“What I did to you? Please, my good man. You approached me about the loan. I did not force you to sign anything. You entered our arrangement of your own accord. Is it my fault that you didn’t think through the consequences?”
“I’ll kill you!” Roland bellowed, trying to steady himself by holding the pistol with both hands. It wasn’t helping. Inch by inch, I crept toward him, careful not to draw his attention.
“You say that, but I doubt you have the nerve to follow through.” Marley sighed. “Prove me wrong.”
When Roland hesitated, I didn’t. I pounced, charging him as best I could. At my age, I’d be no match for him in a fistfight, but if I could just knock him off his feet…
My stiff gait worked against me. Had I been just a few strides closer before I made my move, or maybe if I had been just a little younger and quicker, it might have worked. As it was, the gap between us gave Roland just enough time to react. The gunshot thundered through the countinghouse a second before I could get to him.
Reaching him at last, I forced his arm down.
The door burst open. “Hello! What’s all this?” a booming voice asked. I recognized it instantly as belonging to Carruthers, the constable who patrolled this block.
“Arrest this man at once!” Marley wheezed. Quickly, I turned my head. He was slumped on the floor in a pool of his own blood, alive for the moment but not much longer.
“He shot Jacob,” I added, shoving Roland toward Carruthers. It wasn’t much of a shove, just enough to put him off-balance for a moment so the constable could grab him more easily.
“We need a doctor at Scrooge and Marley’s!” Carruthers shouted as he hauled Roland out. “Doctor!”
I knelt at Marley’s side, overwhelmed and feeling helplesso. Money was my expertise, not medicine. “Jacob, I’m sorry, I…”
“Wouldn’t have mattered.” Marley smirked bitterly. “You see, I’m dying anyway.”
“Dying? What do you mean?”
“Been sick for a while now. This contraption is part of a treatment that doesn’t work.” He pointed to the bandage around his head. “That’s why I taunted Roland as I did. Even if he hadn’t shot me, it wouldn’t have mattered. It’s the grave for me either way. That’s why I didn’t get scared when…”
Suddenly he convulsed, his eyes locked on some distant point invisible to my eyes. I froze in terror.
Marley spoke barely above a whisper. “What… are those… ponderous chains…”
“Chains? What are you talking about, Jacob?”
There was a deep gasp, a horrified look in his eyes, and then nothing. My business partner was gone. A fresh chill swept over me.
That would be the last I spoke to Jacob Marley… or so I thought.
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