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    New Christmas Carol Stories
    New Christmas Carol Stories
    New Christmas Carol Stories
    Ebook90 pages1 hour

    New Christmas Carol Stories

    By Ted Stetson

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    About this ebook

    Imaginative stories loosely based on characters from the Charles Dickens classic: A Christmas Carol.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTed Stetson
    Release dateDec 14, 2010
    ISBN9781452424910
    New Christmas Carol Stories
    Author

    Ted Stetson

    Ted Stetson is a member of SFWA. He was born in Brooklyn and raised on Long Island and went to Seton Hall and Hofstra. He graduated from the University of St. Thomas, Houston, Texas. He was awarded First Place by the Florida Literary Arts Council and First Place in the Lucy B. McIntire contest of the Poetry Society of Georgia. His short fiction has appeared in Twisted Tongue, MysteryAuthors.com, Future Orbits, State Street Review, and the anthologies; One Evening a Year, Mota: Truth, Ruins Extraterrestrial Terra, Ruins Terra and Barren Worlds. His books include: Night Beasts, The Computer Song Book.

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      Book preview

      New Christmas Carol Stories - Ted Stetson

      New Christmas Carol Stories:

      Imaginative tales based on the characters

      from the Charles Dickens Classic

      By Ted Stetson

      *****

      Published By Three Door Publishing

      Copyright © 2010 by Ted Stetson

      Copyright © 2011 by Ted Stetson

      Copyright © 2014 by Ted Stetson

      *****

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      *****

      Cover art by Franci Strumpfer

      *****

      Table of Contents

      1 - Ebenezer’s Gambit

      2 - Ghost Wanted

      3 - Tiny Toy

      4 - Scrooge

      5 - A Christmas Hymn

      6 - Costume

      7 - Chains

      8 - Spice

      9 - Prank

      10 - Surprise

      11 - Tiny Terror

      12 - Manifestation

      13 - Candles

      14 - Snap-Apple Night

      15 – Never Never

      16 - Long Story Short

      17 – Father Christmas

      18 – Boo Humbug

      19 – A Mary Christmas

      About the Author

      Stories

      Other Stores

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      Notes

      *****

      1 - Ebenezer's Gambit

      Ebenezer Scrooge, this is the spirit of Christmas come to--

      That you, Marley? Scrooge said as he sat up in his maroon silk robe. I wish you wouldn't wake me up like that. You're going to give me a heart attack.

      Ebenezer, you must--

      Marley cut that out. Scrooge climbed stiffly out of bed, shoved his feet in his fur slippers and limped to the fireplace. You always have to sound like you're in a tunnel?

      The spirit said, Tonight you will be--

      About time. With arthritic hands Scrooge tossed some dry sticks onto the red hot coals in the fireplace.

      Ebenezer we must finish--

      Good, I've been waiting a year. Scrooge sat down at a chess table next to the fireplace.

      A layer of thick dust coated the table and the chess pieces. Many of the wooden chess pieces had been moved from their starting position. He lit a tall candle and placed it on the side of the table. Wavering candle light danced across the chess board.

      Ebenezer Scrooge, the spirit echoed. Repent.

      I'll repent when you beat me.

      The spirit floated over across the table from Scrooge.

      Ebenezer, we can't keep doing--

      Why not?

      You're getting me in trouble. My boss wants me to make sure that you take care of Tiny Tim and help the poor.

      Tiny Tim is in Oxford already, Scrooge said. And even I don't have enough money to help the poor.

      We can't play chess any more, Ebenezer, Marley said in a booming voice. First we must talk, then you will visit with--

      Past, present and future; met them and beat them.

      That isn't the way it's supposed to be.

      Who says so?

      My boss.

      You mean the one I beat.

      You beat the . . . big angel?

      Why do you think you're there and I'm here?

      The spirit fell through the wooden floor until his chin hit the floorboard. After a bit he climbed up out of the floor and rearranged the old tattered scarf around his head. With his chains rattling he squeezed into the chair across from Scrooge.

      You beat my boss?

      Scrooge laughed. Beat him? He couldn't defend my gambit to save his wings. Why do you think I'm rich today? We had a side bet.

      That he should take . . . me?

      Hell no. I bet if I won he couldn't take me. He had to take someone, so he took you because he's a sore loser and wants you to pester the hell out of me.

      That son of a--

      Will you move already? Scrooge said. You always were the slowest chess player in London.

      Okay. Okay. Stop rushing me. You're always interrupting. Is that your famous gambit? You interrupt the other player when he's about to--

      Marley, move your piece. Scrooge pointed a bent finger at the dusty chess board.

      Now let me see. The spirit stared closely at the wooden chess pieces. It blew on the chess board and a cloud of dust rose into the air. You really should take better care of my chess board.

      Marley.

      Did you change the position of the pieces? It seems like my bishop was--

      Marley, we only have till morning.

      Ebenezer, you're doing it again.

      I'm sorry. I'll stop. Just move.

      *****

      2 - Ghost Wanted - Ideal Working Conditions

      Bob Cratchit couldn't believe it; the blasted ghost was actually tiptoeing down the hall. The grandfather clock ticked sounding loud in the quiet house as the smell of Mrs. Barnes biscuits filled the hall with a warm pastry smell. In addition, the blasted ghost was sneaking around like a church mouse.

      Bob stood in the doorway of the old house watching the ghost tiptoe past the painting of young Queen Victoria. The ghost lurked in the deep shadows before floating across the threadbare carpet to the other side of the hall and crept up to the George III grandfather clock before peeking at him.

      What are you doing? Bob said.

      I'm haunting, I am, the ghost said.

      Get over here, he said.

      The ghost, an apparition of a skinny old man with muttonchops and bald pate, floated over to him with his hat in his

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