Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Today
2 .
"There was a time when I was sure you and I were truly one. That our future was forever and would never come undone. And we came so close to being close, and though you care for me. . . There's distance in your eyes tonight, so we're not meant to be." - Belle ( When Love is Gone )
.. *...* ..
Belle had loved Ebenezer since their first meeting. They'd been youths, him apprenticing with Mr. Fezziwig, and her learning her trade as a new seamstress. The Fezziwigs had been old family friends of her late father, and had often welcomed her into their home. There she had met the reserved bank clerk, and she had been lost.
She recalled those days fondly. The quiet moments stolen between them, with blushes and flattering niceties. But it had always been more for them. In the spaces between the well-mannered conversations and propriety, there had been a kinship that Belle had never felt with another being, living or dead. Ebenezer had seen her clearly, and she had seen him. And from that moment on, there had never been another man that she loved quite so well.
When Ebenezer proposed to her at the Fezziwig's Christmas Party, Belle had felt that all her wishes had been realized. She had been so happy, dancing with her beloved under the holly and mistletoe sprigs. He'd stolen the sweetest kiss, as he slid the ring upon her finger, and she had known that their life together would be a blessed one.
It had taken her three years to know better.
Ebenezer had promised they would wed once he'd become independent in his work. With the partnership of his best friend Jacob Marley, the two had started their own enterprise.
Belle had waited patiently. And just as patiently, she'd watched the love of her life transform from a kind man, to a cut-throat. He had loved her once, but his new mistress - gold and silver - had replaced Belle as effectively as any woman of flesh and blood.
Finally, she could take no more. Ebenezer Scrooge had changed, and there was no going back.
She had returned his ring and said her goodbyes. His broken, cold expression would forever haunt her, as she wished him well and departed.
She had never stopped loving him. Nor praying for him.
Even when she met and married another man, Belle kept Ebenezer in her heart. She had loved her husband and didn't regret their life together. But still Scrooge lingered.
Now in the days after her death, Belle Cratchit forced herself to keep hope. In life, she had been helpless to stop Ebenezer's descent into cruelty. . . But perhaps, in death, there was hope yet to be found. . .
"You wish to help him?"
"Yes. As I always have."
In the snowy streets of London, standing outside Scrooge's bodacious homestead, the ghost of Jacob Marley nodded.
Marley had found Belle in her usual spot. He came offering an intriguing proposition. A way for Jacob to reduce the weight of his eternal chains, and for Belle to finally be able to move on. The perfect last chance to save crotchety old Scrooge from his own hell-fire chains and damnation.
"So Ebenezer will be visited by you and three others. The others will show him his past, present, and future to help him see the error of his ways? In the end, giving him the chance to start anew?" Belle repeated.
"Aye. It is his only hope," Marley said.
"Then let me be one of the three."
"You would do that for him? . . . You'd be that for him?"
Belle nodded. "Closure. . . For the both of us."
Marley couldn't help but agree. He pointed towards the neverending spiral of light that floated in the frosty winter sky. It never disappeared. Though only those deemed worthy could pass through it.
"Go into the light, Lady. Give your request and you will know what to do."
Belle smiled softly, patting Jacob's forearm. She pitied him, though she didn't let it show. "Thank you, Jacob. Good luck with him."
Marley's chains rattled as he strode towards Scrooge's home, moaning as the heavy links of metal trailed after him. "I will need it. Scrooge is the most stubborn man in all of existence."
"Set the stage then. Show him your burdens, explain what pains you suffer," Belle gestured to the chains. "And the three shall do the rest."
Marley agreed and walked through the stone wall. When he was gone, Belle floated toward the pure light.
As she passed through the glowing veil, understanding came easy. It was clear what she must do, and how.
Until it was her turn, she observed Scrooge's journey as an unseen spectator. His conversation with Marley, the Ghost of Christmas Past, and the Ghost of Christmas Present. Throughout the visions of past and present Ebenezer had begun to care. His heart, blackened and twisted for so long, began to lighten and unwind. . . Now it was up to her.
Donning a cloak of obsidian, she passed through the light again.
Belle was the Ghost of Christmases yet to come. The spectre of the foreseeable events of Scrooge's future. His final push to a better tomorrow, or his failure to understand how dire his fate was. It was up to her to pass on the message. And she would.
What came after that was up to Scrooge.