HUCK AND SCROOGE: HUNTING FOR HUMBUGS
Two heroes, one mission – to expose hypocrisy and keep the Christmas spirit alive all the year round. Please comment nicely!
Chapter One: A Meeting of Heroes
"Spare me, dreadful Spirit!" The old man wailed. "Have mercy on a poor old sinner. Have mercy, Angel of Death!" Scrooge wanted to change. But it was too late. Now it was time to pay for his sins. Still in his bed gown and nightcap, the bony old man stepped forward, dreading his fate but prepared to follow the barefoot boy in rags.
"You sound like Pap." The freckle-faced boy flashed an engaging, gap-toothed grin. "My Pap told me once I was the Angel of Death," he explained. "But don't be a-feared, Mr. Scrooge. I'm no angel. I'm make-believe, a character from a book, just like you. We're both heroes to kids all over! My name is Huckleberry Finn."
"That certainly sounds like a make-believe name," Scrooge said suspiciously. The old man took a deep breath. "All right, Mr. Huckleberry, what can I do for you? I take it you're a wretched poor person in need of a helping hand. Fortunately for you, I've turned over a new leaf of late. I'm famous for my compassion!"
"You can help me, all right," Huck allowed. "But I'm not looking for a handout. I'm out hunting for humbugs. And you're about the biggest humbug of them all!"
"I beg your pardon!" Scrooge was still afraid, but he also felt rather indignant. "I admit I'm an old fool, a sinner, but I've learned my lesson. I'm no longer a miser who hates Christmas. I've changed and now I love everyone. Even the poor!"
"Sure you do," the boy said. All at once Scrooge was on a crude raft made of pine planks, surrounded by lapping waves and endless blackness. A shadowy figure guided the raft with a pole.
"Is this the River Styx?" Scrooge asked nervously. "Is that dark figure . . . the Ferryman?"
"No, this is the Big River, and that's my friend Jim." Huck waved his corncob pipe. Suddenly thousands of twinkling lights appeared. "You're going to help me catch the biggest fraud we can find. But before we get started, I want to ask you something. You were a sure-enough miser all your life. How is it that you suddenly learned to love the poor?"
"It was a miracle," Scrooge breathed reverently. "The spirits came to me on Christmas Eve. By morning I was a different person!"
"That's a swell story, Mr. Scrooge." Huck wasn't very impressed. "You must learn awfully fast, though. Now when I ran into Jim on Jackson's Island, I figured he was just another slave. It took me weeks to get it through my thick head that he was more than that. I had to learn it all the hard way, and we had to go through plenty of danger together before we knew we could count on each other. Isn't that right, Jim?"
"Dat's right, honey," called a soft voice in the darkness. "Ole Mr. Scrooge, he got a free ride. We earned our way to freedom, chile."
"Tonight there's no more humbug," Huck said. "Tonight it's real."
"Exactly where are we going, young man?" Scrooge's voice was sharp, but his hands shook as he adjusted his cotton bedgown. The barefoot boy and his companion seemed harmless enough, but the night was dark and the big river was black and endless.
Huck didn't answer, but the black man began singing softly.
"I'm going to Louisiana, way down behind the sun. I'm going to Louisiana, way down behind the sun. Well I just found out, my trouble has just begun."
"My trouble has just begun." Scrooge sat there shivering on the raft, his long arms wrapped around his bony knees, wondering just what the night had in store for him.