Chapter Three: The Second of the Spirits
Back on Merlyn's own bed, he still brooded about his mistakes.
"Why was I so foolish?" Merlyn asked himself. "Why? Why?"
Suddenly, a light shone in through his curtains, and he looked on in surprise.
"What's this?" Merlyn asked as he looked through the curtains to see a blond man in a white robe and outfit with a black S shape on his chest.
"Hello." The man said.
Merlyn quickly closed the curtains, and when he opened them again, he was still there.
"Hello again." The man said again.
"Please, let me go!" Merlyn called out in fear. "Don't kill me!"
"Why would the Ghost of Christmas Present, that's me, you can call me Jor-El, kill a distasteful little miser like you, especially when there are so many good things to enjoy in life?"
The man set Merlyn down, and he then noticed that the room was full of food.
"Oh..." Merlyn said in awe. "Mince pies. Turkeys. Suckling pig. But where did all this come from?" Merlyn asked.
"From the heart, Malcolm." Jor-El explained. "It's the food of generosity which you have long denied your fellow man."
"Generosity?!" Merlyn asked angrily. "Nobody's ever shown me generosity!"
"You've never given them reason to." Jor-El explained calmly. "And yet, there are those who still find enough warmth in their hearts even for the likes of you."
"No acquaintance of mine." Merlyn said coldly. "I assure you."
"Oh, you'll see." Jor-El said as he picked Merlyn up, lifted up Merlyn's roof and walked out, using a lamppost as a flash light to find the right house.
Eventually, Jor-El stopped and showed Merlyn an old, extremely modest farm.
"Here we are." Jor-El said calmly.
"Why did you bring me to this old shack?" Merlyn asked.
"This is the home of your overworked, underpaid employee, Clark Kent." Jor-El said, pushing Merlyn up close to the window.
Lex looked in the window and found a brown-haired woman, who could only be Kent's wife, cooking an extremely small bird.
"What's she cooking, a canary?" Merlyn asked rhetorically. "Surely they have more food than that. Look on the fire."
"That's your laundry." Jor-El pointed out as they looked at a bubbling pot.
Inside the Kent home, Clark's middle child, Chris, was trying to get at his presents, only to be stopped by his oldest daughter, Chloe. She looked perfectly like her mother, but with short blond hair.
"Oh, I don't think so." Chloe said with a smile as she picked the eight-year-old up.
"Now kids, we've gotta wait for Little Conner." Clark said calmly.
"Daddy." Clark's youngest son, a black haired four-year-old named Conner, said. "I'm coming, Daddy."
Clark walked up quickly to his son, hobbling down the steps on his cane, as Clark picked him up.
"Hey little buddy." Clark said as he set Conner down while Chloe helped Clark's wife, Lois, set Chris down as well.
"Wow, look at all the wonderful things to eat!" Conner said excitedly. "We must thank Mr. Luthor."
"Right." Clark said kindly. "To my employer, Mr. Luthor, the founder of the feast."
"'Feast' indeed." Lois said sadly, so only Clark could hear. "With a goose barely bigger than a canary."
"Come on Lois, it's Christmas." Clark said kindly.
"Oh alright." Lois said. "To Mr. Luthor."
Conner smiled. Then, seeing that his father only had a little bit of goose, he offered Clark his piece, but Clark kindly refused and hugged his son.
"Tell me, Jor-El." Merlyn said with a pain in his heart, he'd never felt before. "What's wrong with that kind boy?"
"Much, I'm afraid." Jor-El said. "If these shadows remain unchanged, all I can see is an empty chair where Little Conner Kent once sat and a little crutch without an owner carefully preserved."
"Then that means..." Merlyn said weakly. "Conner will..."
Merlyn turned around, and Jor-El had completely disappeared.
"Jor-El, where are you?!" Merlyn called out. "Don't go! You must tell me about Conner! Don't go!"
Suddenly, an odd black fog covered his vision as Merlyn coughed and when the fog cleared, he found himself in a graveyard.
"How did I-?" Merlyn began before looking up and his eyes widened in fear. "Who... Who are you?"
Aw, poor Conner.