The Last of the Spirits

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Authors: Chris Priestley
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Sam.
    ‘If all remains the same,’ said the spirit, ‘then no – the boy will die . . . and soon.’
    Lizzie began to sob.
    ‘Why do you have to spoil everything, Sam?’ she said.
    ‘And will they stay the same?’ said Sam, ignoring her.
    ‘I cannot say,’ said the spirit. ‘But you see that if a man like Scrooge cannot be changed, then there are consequences.’
    Sam looked at the family and back to the Ghost of Christmas Present.
    ‘So all this, all this business with you and the other spirits – it’s about that boy as well?’ said Sam.
    The giant smiled.
    ‘It is about everyone Scrooge can affect,’ said the spirit. ‘If his future is changed, then so is theirs. We do not visit him because he is deserving, but because he is not. A bad man turned to good is benefit to all.’
    Sam stared at the Cratchits.
    ‘Did you show him this?’ said Sam, tears in his eyes. ‘Old Scrooge? Did you show him this?’
    The spirit nodded.
    ‘These very scenes,’ he said.
    ‘How?’ said Sam, looking round. ‘Why ain’t he here, then?’
    ‘Look harder, Sam,’ said the spirit.
    Sam did look harder, and realised that beside them, almost overlapping and intertwining with them, was a faint and ghostly image of the spirit, and beside him stood a faint and ghostly image of Scrooge.
    ‘There are many presents, Sam,’ said the spirit, answering Sam’s confused expression. ‘They line up next to each other into infinity. They are only the same for a moment. They are each of them changed by the actions we take. You and Scrooge have been shown the consequences of your life as you live it now.
    ‘You mortals are all interlinked,’ he continued with a sigh, ‘though you seldom see it as anything but a burden or an opportunity for profit.’
    And with that, they found themselves in Scrooge’s house once more.
    ‘We need to go,’ said Sam. ‘Good night to you, Spirit.’
    ‘And to you,’ said the spirit.
    The giant’s eyelids were heavy now and he seemed older. In the short time they had been with him he seemed to have aged twenty years or more. Sam pushed Lizzie towards the door but stopped and turned to look back.
    ‘You called us Ignorance and Want,’ said Sam. ‘Well, I suppose that’s who we are. I know you meant it clever, like. That Ignorance is something to be feared, especially by the likes of Scrooge. That the people they ignore will be the ones who’ll rob them and worse. And you knew that he ought to fear me, didn’t you?’
    The spirit made no reply. Sam took the lead pipe out of his pocket and laid it down on the floorboards. Lizzie saw it and shook her head.
    ‘Oh, Sam . . .’ she said.
    Sam hung his head and fought back the tears.
    ‘That was a different Sam,’ he said eventually. ‘I’m not him any more. I swear, Liz.’
    After a moment’s hesitation she put her arms round him.
    ‘We need to go,’ she said.
    He nodded. They opened the door, ran through Scrooge’s bedroom, down the stairs and out into the street without a backward glance, where they stood panting.
    They laughed with relief and embraced again. The cold seeped back into their bones and they set off walking, in no particular direction, but just to keep warm and to put some distance between themselves and that house. But they had barely walked ten steps when they came face to face with Marley’s ghost. Lizzie squealed and hid behind Sam.
    ‘Wait!’ said the ghost.
    ‘No!’ said Sam. ‘Leave us alone. We’ve had enough of ghosts and spirits to last a lifetime and I’ve seen things that would frighten even you, so out of my way!’
    Marley’s ghost stared at Sam and shook his head.
    ‘Where will you go?’ he said.
    ‘What do you care?’ said Sam. ‘You . . . you were there. It was you who ruined our lives.’
    ‘What?’ said Marley’s ghost. ‘How did –’
    ‘You sent my father to prison,’ said Sam. ‘You killed him and our mother.’
    The ghost shook his head, confused.
    ‘We’re Sam and

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