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Mr. Wilson’s Christmas Carol – Stave 2 – Michael Morse

by Michael Morse, contributing writer

Stave Two

“Another Humbug,” said the former Mr. Wilson as he circled the cushion on his new favorite spot. “I can see it already, those little creatures called grandchildren will have the run of my house, tipping this over, wrecking that, eating my food and pulling my ears!”

Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge Wilson then collapsed into the smelly old chair with a huff, closed his eyes and fell sound asleep. He wasn’t asleep for long.

“Wilson Scrooooge!” He twitched a little.

“Wilson Scrooooge!!” He twitched some more.

“Mr. Wilson Ebenezer Scrooge!!!”

He twitched no more and opened his eyes, ready to bark the intruder directly into next year. He looked to his left, then to his right but could see no intruder. More troubling still, he did not pick up a scent.

“My sniffer sniffs better than the nosiest of noses,” he grumbled. “Where is that annoying voice coming from, and how do I stop it!”

Ebenezer Wilson shivered then, a mighty shake the likes of which he had never experienced. The cold went all the way to his bones, rested there and decided to stay. He scanned the room with his superb vision, saw nothing amiss at first, but on second glance he noticed movement from his very own dog crate!

“You there, what are you doing in my crate!” he demanded of the furry thing that had managed to get locked into the tiny enclosure. “And why can’t I smell you, from the look of you I should be able to detect you from a mile away!”

The furry thing that was trapped in the crate turned toward Ebenezer slowly, revealing himself one whisker at a time.

“Cooper you old dog!” exclaimed Scrooge. “Well met my friend, what are you doing in there?”

“The same as you will be doing when your time on earth is through, wishing you had not wasted your time on earth complaining!”

“Humbug! I only complain a little; normally I’m the perfect gentleman. It’s this thing they call Christmas that makes me crazy!”

“It is this thing called Christmas that should fill you with hope and joy!”

“It does. I hope it ends so I can find some joy!”

“You are a loathsome creature Scrooge! What happened to the fellow I used to run with, before we were caught? Where has that fun-loving, mischievous pup gone to?”

“I put him away for the season, Cooper, again, what are you doing here?”

“I am here to herald the arrival of three spirits. They have been given the unenviable task of restoring some sense to you. The first will arrive at the hour of one. The second at two. The third shall appear as the clock strikes three. Heed them well Wilson Scrooge, or you will end up like me, a tired old dog spirit forced to remain in captivity never knowing the joy that comes from belonging with a family who cares for me.”

“You never found a human?”

“I did, a lovely man who lived alone and wanted nothing more than my companionship. But I wanted more, and would escape every time I had the chance, always looking for better food, a warmer bed and some children of my own.”

“Did you not find what you were looking for?”

“I did not, I found a world most cruel, and was captured by the animal control people, placed in a cage and sat there, alone and miserable until I was nothing but spirit.”

“But it is your right to look for a better life!” said Wilson Scrooge indignantly.

“You fooool,” groaned the spirit of Cooper, who already was fading from sight. Mr. Wilson Ebenezer Scrooge closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, opened them and saw that his crate was empty. He shook his head, then his body, all but his tail, growled a little, barked a little, let out an exasperated sigh and returned to his slumbering position.

“Humbug,” he exclaimed once more before nodding off. “Just my imagination, likely caused by the gruel these people feed me!”

Stave Three – tomorrow…


Read Stave One here:


Michael Morse spent 23 years as a firefighter/EMT with the Providence Fire Department before retiring in 2013 as Captain, Rescue Co. 5. He is an author of several books, most offering fellow firefighter/EMTs and the general population alike a poignant glimpse into one person’s journey through life, work and hope for the future. He is a Warwick resident.