Part 6
Bustopher was left alone in the graveyard, but not for long. A thick fog appeared from behind him with a rumbling and he tried to flee from it. It was really spooky. With a crack of thunder a shape in black, with red eyes and an R on his chest appeared. He had no smile on his face and looked ready to kill something. Bustopher gave out a small scream when he saw him.
"Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come", Bustopher asked and the ghost nodded. "Spirit… I fear you more than any specter I have yet met."
By that time we got out of the church.
"Oh this is too scary", Quaxo said. "I don't think I wanna see anymore."
"When you're right you're right", Munk said and sat me down on the path. "You're on your own girl. We'll meet you at the finale."
"Yeah. Oh…" They ran into the church and hid. I ran as fast as my tiny legs could carry me towards Bustopher and managed to climb onto his gown and into its pocket.
"I'm prepared to follow and to learn", Bustopher was just saying to the ghost. "With a thankful heart."
The ghost didn't answer.
"Will you not speak to me", Bustopher asked.
The ghost only put his arm around Bustopher's shoulders and pointed forward.
"Oh yes yes", Bustopher said. "The night is fading fast. Lead on spirit."
We started to walk and ended up on a rainy London street. The ghost pointed at four tom's in expensive clothes, rich cats I had no doubt. They were all laughing.
"No no I don't know much about it either way", one of them said. "I only know he's dead."
"When", asked another.
"Last night I believe."
"Wondered what he died of", the third asked. "I'd thought he'd never go!" They all laughed again.
"Well I don't care why or how he's gone", the second one said. "I just like to know what he's done with his money."
"Wouldn't we all", said the first.
"Well he didn't give them to me", said the fourth.
"No", echoed the rest.
"Well it's likely to be a cheap funeral", the first one said. "I don't know a single soul who'd go to it."
"I won't mind going", the third said and they stared at him. "If lunch is provided!" They all laughed again and walked off. Bustopher looked at the ghost.
"I know some of those gentlemen spirit", he said. "Of what poor wretch did they speak?"
But the ghost only pointed into a shabby hut and Bustopher entered.
In the hut sat a ginger cat that was very tall and thin, his coat was dusty with neglect and his whiskers were uncombed. He swayed his head from side to side with movements like a snake and in front of him sat three cats with things in their paws.
"So", the ginger cat said. "Back from the house of sadness I see."
"Huh", scoffed a queen. "Sad that he didn't die years ago that skin flinch."
"Well let me see what you got for old Mac ey? What do you got for me to remember him by?" He tickled the queen and she squeaked in delight. He did the same to the other queen but she just snapped at him:
"Mac get off…"
"Well I got these collar buttons from his dresser", said a tom with a coat that was torn and seedy and was baggy at the knees. His ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why and he scowled upon a hostile world with one forbidding eye. "Marble and pearl."
"No no no no, I got his bed curtains!" said the first queen. She was a white Persian. "Of damask."
"Very cheap damask", Mac said and took them from her and putting them away. "Worth a few coats." The last queen bent down and held up white blankets. She was a scarlet queen.
"I got his blankets", she said.
"Oh his blankets", Mac asked. "Why Ms. Bombalurina they are still warm! I don't pay extra for the warmth you know."
"You should", she said. "It's the only warmth he ever had." They all laughed and Bustopher left them. He walked up to the ghost saying:
"I understand spirit. The case of this unhappy tom might be my own. What my life tends that way now. Merciful heavens… Let me see some tenderness connected with this world or I'll be haunted by that terrible conversation forever." Yet again the ghost did not speak.
He turned Bustopher around and pointed at the door of Alonzo Cratchit's house. Bustopher smiled.
"It's Alonzo Cratchit's house", he said happily. "Oh yes spirit. A place of joy and laughter… Thank you for bringing me here." But he froze when there was no joy… no laughter coming from the house.
"It's so quiet", he said and looked at the spirit. "Why is it so quiet spirit?" The ghost only pointed at the house. Bustopher looked through the closed window and saw Exotica Cratxhit cry by the stove as she cooked dinner. Electra and Etcetera walked up to her.
"Mother you're crying again", Electra said softly.
"Oh it's just the lamplight… it hurts my eyes", their mother sobbed.
"Not Tiny-Tumble", Bustopher said with tears in his eyes.
"There… there now", Exotica said drying away her tears. "My eyes get weak in the dim light. I wouldn't want to show weak eyes to your father when he gets home for anything in the world." They all looked sad. "He-he should be back now."
"I think he's walked a little bit slower these past… two evenings", Plato said sadly.
The door opened slowly and Alonzo stepped inside.
"Hello my dears", he said.
"D-daddy", Etcetera said weakly and the kittens walked up to him. They hugged him softly.
"Hello girls", he said melancholy. "Hello Peter."
"Children… please, please go set the table", their mother said sadly. The entire house was sad, I fought to keep back my tears. "Thank you. How was the churchyard?"
"Oh it will be lovely Exotica", Alonzo answered softly. "It would have done you good to see how green the place is." His wife sniffled sadly. "I… I picked a spot for Tumble where he can see… I-It's a spot on the hill… you can see the ducks on the river." Alonzo had tears going down his cheeks. "Tiny Tumble…"
"Tiny Tumble always loved watching the ducks on the river", Exotica said when he couldn't continue. It tore at my heart seeing them all so sad. Bustopher turned away from the window and walked up to the ghost.
"Oh spirit", he said. "Must there be a Christmas that brings this awful scene? How could we endure it?" I looked back through the window and watched the family sit down for dinner. Alonzo sighed and then spoke.
"It's alright children", he said and they looked at him, as did his wife. "Life is made up by meetings and partings. That is the way of it. I'm sure we shall never forget Tiny Tumble." His voice got croaky. "And this first parting that was among us." The entire family cried silently for their lost member. I cried too and looked up at Bustopher. He was also crying but the ghost led us away… back to the graveyard.
We walked among those cold rocks for a bit. I was terrified and sad, I didn't want to be here.
"Must we return to this place", Bustopher asked and by the tone of his voice I knew that neither did he. He looked around.
"There's something else I must know", he said. "Is that not true?" We stopped walking… well I didn't actually walk since I was in Bustopher's pocket.
"Spirit", Bustopher said. "I know what I must ask… I fear to but I must… Who was that dead wretch that brought so much glee and happiness to others?" As an answer the ghost pointed at a tombstone. Bustopher slowly approached it.
"Answer me one more question", he then asked and hurried back to the ghost. "Are these the shadows of things that will be or are they the shadows of things that may be only?" The ghost pointed at the tombstone again and Bustopher sadly walked towards it.
"These events can be changed", he said and walked towards it slowly. "A life can be made right." He reached the tombstone and dusted off the snow. A name was written there…
"Bustopher Scrooge", Bustopher sadly cried. "Oh please spirit no. H-hear me I'm not the man I was!" He ran up to the spirit. "Why would you show me this if I was past all hope? I-I will honor Christmas and try to keep it all the year. I will live my life in the past, the present and the future. I will not shut out the lessons that the spirits has taught me. Tell me that I may sponge out the writing on this stone." The ghost did not answer. Bustopher knelt and grabbed its cloak. "Oh spirit please speak to me." He cried and fell forward.
TBC I still don't own anything!