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A Midsummers' Carol - Part Six

by Clint Driftwood

Read the story from the beginning

This Dickens parody was the winner in the prose section of our Summer Parodies competition, and was originally contributed to the Fantasy Archers topic on The Archers .

The Ghost moved his hand through the air; now they were standing in a moonlit street. Shards of golden light spilled from windows onto the pavement. The air was still hot from the sunÂ’s blaze of the past day. Moths danced crazily before amber streetlamps to music escaping from a hall festooned with strings of coloured bulbs.

"This is Ambridge," Aldridge exclaimed, "I know it well, it is my home, but it seems a might strange to me."
The Ghost pointed a shining finger and Aldridge looked as directed, a poster on a window of the hall said - Young Farmers MidsummerÂ’s Ball, June 21st. 9pm.
"Let us enter." Said the Ghost, and moved its hand through the air once more.

They now stood in a corner of the hall, loud rock and roll music assaulted AldridgeÂ’s ears.
"Look!" commanded the Ghost, "You know that young gentleman there?" again pointing its shining finger.
Aldridge again saw himself, younger by many years, moving purposefully in and out of the assembled throng with a full glass in each hand. He watched until his former self stopped at a table and placed the drinks before a young woman.
"Jennifer Archer!" cried Aldridge, "My Jenny darling, how sweet she looks, oh, my heart, I had forgotten her countenance."
"You knew more of her than her countenance," chided the Ghost, "And you took advantage of her predicament."
"I did not take advantage, I befriended her when no other would, she had a child out of wedlock." claimed Aldridge.
"The child that calls you ‘uncle’ and whom you now disparage?" was the Ghost’s retort.
"The same," Aldridge sighed, "But I act like that towards him to harden his character, he treats life too lightly and he has no head for business."
"He calls you ‘uncle’ because you are as one to him, and it was his mother’s last wish that he look out for you." The Ghost replied.
"Oh, yes my sweet Jenny, I would have married eventually. My business was young and needed all my attention. She would not wait and I could not wed her without having first made a success of my firm. But she married that farmer, I resolved to forget her and put my mind to my work, but two years latter she died in childbirth. Oh, my dear, dear, Jenny Darling, if only." Aldridge lamented.

The Ghost moved its hand in the air and all went black.

It seemed to Aldridge that he heard the sound of a solitary bell tolling in the far off in the distance. He opened his eyes. The room was in darkness. The grandfather clock in the hall downstairs was striking the hour. He shivered as it struck one and no more. Aldridge wondered by which way the second spirit would enter his bedroom. As he lay there, his eyes peering into gloom, he tried to slow his breathing so as better to hear any sound that may occur in the room.

"Matt CrawfordÂ’s ghost had foretold the coming of the first spirit as the clock sounded one, and the second spirit at the same hour on the next night," mused Aldridge, " And the first one had come as predicted on the dot. So it must be well passed the hour now and not a phantom in sight." He relaxed just a little and breathed easier.

Aldridge then noticed a soft orange glow under his wardrobe door. Thinking it to be a fire he rushed out of bed and paced to the wardrobe. Placing his hand on the door handle he was astonished to hear his own name being called out.
"Enter Brian Aldridge, come join Me." a loud jolly baritone voice bade him.
Aldridge opened the door further and gasped to see not a row of empty coat hangers as he expected, but a whole new room brightly lit.
"Come in, come in," repeated the voice, "DonÂ’t stand on ceremony man, come join me!" It boomed out, and then it laughed a laugh so bright and happy that Aldridge forgot his fear for a moment.

The room was decked with all manner of summer flowers and fruits, and in its centre sat on a tree stump was a giant of a man with flowing blonde locks. He was dressed in a white toga with a band of ivy for a belt.
"May I ask who you are Sir?" Aldridge asked timidly.
"Why! I am the Ghost of midsummers present," returned the Ghost
"Have you things to show me spirit? For if you have, I would rather you showed me sooner then later and have done with it, if you donÂ’t mind." Aldridge begged.
"Then you shall have your wish," said the ghost getting to its feet, "Come here and touch my robe"

Aldridge did as instructed and upon touching the ghosts robe the room vanished. They stood in a narrow street with small dingy houses on each side. The houses badly were in need of repair and some seemed to Aldridge as they were about to collapse into the street.
"Where are we Spirit?" Aldridge asked. "Why! Ambridge of course." the Ghost answered.
"I donÂ’t know this street, where is it" enquired Aldridge.
The Ghost, not answering, pointed to one of the houses and said, "There, let us go to that house."
"But who lives there, if any person can actually live in such a hovel?" asked Aldridge breathlessly, running to keep up with the Ghost.
"Not a person," said the Ghost, "A family live here, come follow me."

Read Part Seven

More parodies - from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon



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