By Scott Jackson
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Inside
of a house we see a ten-year-old girl sitting in her bed pressing the screen,
typing on her cell phone quite a few times. Into the bedroom comes the mother,
“Carole Ann! Why are you up and on that thing? You need to be resting with your
injury.” The mother asks and belittles the child.
“But
I’m so bored being stuck here, mom. Other kids get to still go out while they
are injured all the time.” The girl responds back with an attitude. And then
the girl sneezes.
“That
is why, because you also have that cold as well. Or did you forget? And we
don’t want to spread any more germs around nowadays.” The mother gets out a
thermometer and places it in the girl’s mouth. “Under the tongue.” She
instructs her daughter, as she is reluctant to do so. Seconds later it
beeps, and the mother checks the temperature. “Yep, you still got a high
temperature.” The girl was annoyed as her mother handed her a glass of orange
juice. “Now then, your uncle is here to read you a bedtime story.”
“Do we
got to do this?” Carole Ann annoyingly asks her mom.
“What
are you talking about? You loved when your uncle came to read to you at night.”
The mother responds back by tucking the child into the bed.
“That
was when I was a kid, mom.”
The mom
pokes Carole Ann on the nose. “Last I checked you were still a kid. Plus, you
could do some good hearing from a book instead on reading online.”
The
bedroom door opens as a very older man in a brown trench coat and scarf comes
in and stands at the door. “TA-DA! Your favorite uncle is here.” He hugs the
mother, “Thanks Barb.”
“No
problem, Sam. Now behave, both of you.” They both look at each other then back
at the mother as she closes the door most of the way.
“I have
no clue what she means by that.” Sam takes off his coat to reveal a lighter
brown colored suit and pants on under. “How are you feeling kid? I heard you
got a nagging cold on top of an injury.”
“Annoying
is a better word to use. Either way I get stuck in bed or in my room a lot.”
Carole Ann lets her uncle Sam know as she seems to be less annoyed.
“Do you
know what is handy about being stuck in one place? Reading a good book.” He
begins to tell her, “And no, I don’t mean The Good Book aka a Bible. I mean a
good story to read.” He pulls out a bright red book that he brought in with him
and then Sam sits down next to Carole Ann.
“You do
know I’m ten years old now, I don’t need to be read storybooks like a
five-year-old.” Carole Ann rudely implies to her uncle.
“Well,
excuse me for thinking you could use a good story to relax to. Plus, you used
to enjoy my voice when I read. It helped get you to sleep many times.” Sam
opens the red book. “Now you may have heard of this story in many ways on the
T.V. thing or possibly online. But, as far as I know it has never been read to
you until now.” He explains to the girl who starts to get comfortable in
bed.
“Is
this going to be one of those boring ancient stories?” Carole Ann then asks her
uncle.
“I
believe the term used for this is a classic, you’ll get to some classic books
in school someday. The Christmas Carol by-”
“Not a
boring old Christmas story! It’s barely past Thanksgiving,” she whines.
“First,
this isn’t boring. There are lessons, laughter, and sadness in this story. You
may learn a whole lot more from a book over your computer or phone screens. Now
then, may I begin the story?”
The
child nods her head.
“Good.”
He turns a page in the book. “Marley was dead to begin with.”
“Uncle!”
She sits up, “You’re spoiling the story. People don’t die at the start of
stories.”
The
uncles closed the book, “Are you a novel book writer or a ten-year-old in bed?”
Carole Ann
then looks like she’ll behave for now as he opens the book back up to where he
was.
“Now,
where was I? Ah. Marley was dead to begin with. Old Marley was as dead as a
doornail. And this must be understood, otherwise nothing wonderful can come of
this story nor would it make any sense.”
“This
story makes no sense,” the child rebuttals about this book laying back
down.
“You do
know this is just the start of the book, right? Like, the first few sentences.
Because we will get nowhere at this rate,” Sam tries to explain to Carole Ann
closing the book up again.
“I’m
sorry, I’m just not feeling like myself since everything that happened,” She
tries to answer back to her uncle.
“Trust
me, there are many times that we all feel sick and aren’t quite ourselves.” He
opens the book back up again. “Should I continue, or do you want to interrupt
some more?” The uncle then asks her.
“No,
keep going.” Carole Ann then tried to get comfortable again.
“Okay.
It had been many years since Jacob Marley had passed. And his old business
partner Ebenezer Scrooge never painted out Old Marley’s name. There it stood,
years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The business
was known as Scrooge and Marley….”
We see
beyond the bedroom door and into the hallway that the mother and now father are
listening in to the story being read. They hold each other’s hands and
reminisce about years ago when they were young and heard this story as well.
About the Author
Scott Jackson is a native of Illinois where he lives with his girlfriend and four cats. He loves video games, musicals, comic books, 80s and 90s nostalgia, Doctor Who, and overall, a good story to enjoy. After finally reaching his limits with retail work, he decided to re-invent himself by going back to school to pursue his dream of becoming a writer and teacher. In his spare time, he picks up extra roles in films, works with a local community theatre, and works on his next novels.