Chance and Hope: Jacob Marley’s Ghost Story©
Chapter One
Jacob ignored Cora as she walked through his ethereal body and left the room, the small smile still on her face. Jacob’s entire focus was on his own, pale face lying on the bed. Jacob struggled to come to his feet so he could get a better look, to stare in disbelief at the ending of his comfortable life. The chains bogged him down, making it difficult to move, but he eventually dragged himself to the side of the bed.
Jacob still was not resigned to the concept of being dead, disbelief and doubt being a strong force when considering the end of your own life. The proof meant little to him, and he stood there and stared as the doctor came in, followed by Cora who had fetched him.
Jacob ignored their conversation at first, too busy staring at himself. Then he tried to speak to them, to get their attention, but his mouth was tied shut and he could not remove the cloth. He fought against the cloth in vain. Then he tried to scream loud enough that he could be heard through his cheeks, but it was never enough. He tried to touch them, to hit them, anything to get their attention, but he was ignored as basic instructions were given to Cora by the doctor.
Cora left with her instructions to fetch the undertaker, that smile still on her face. The moment she left, the doctor untied the handkerchief from the head of Jacob’s body, and the Jacob in chains could speak again.
“Doctor Aeson! Do not put that thing back on my head! Can you hear me! You have to help me!” Jacob shouted frantically, words tumbling over themselves in their effort to escape his lips, to gain attention from the man.
Yet there was no reaction from the Doctor, who had pulled a scalpel from a bag at his side. Jacob continued to wail at the doctor, demanding his help as the doctor bent over Jacob’s body.
“You have to help m-” Jacob was frantically saying, staring at the back of the doctor’s head, but suddenly all that would come out of his mouth was a stream of gurgling noises.
As he tried to speak the noises continued, and in a panic, Jacob dragged the chains into the air as his hands shot to his head, feeling for the knotted handkerchief, but there was nothing there. Pulling his hands down to his face he realized to his horror that there was nothing below his upper jaw.
Moaning incoherently, Jacob stood in a noisy stupor, momentarily shocked to the point of insanity. Eventually, Jacob gained some semblance of his faculties and stepped to the side of the doctor so he could see what the man was doing to his face. Jacob’s jaw was not actually removed from his body, but the doctor had made two large incisions along his cheeks and had dropped his jaw into his chest as he looked into the depths of Jacob’s throat. It was then that Jacob saw the swollen mass in his upper jaw, the decayed flesh, rotted with the infection that had ultimately been his demise.
Jacob was not sure why the doctor was inspecting the infection so closely, maybe simple curiosity as to what killed his patient, or if his poultice had done any good. Regardless of the doctor’s motivation for cutting his jaw, Jacob could not ask the man even if he had the capability to do so.
After a moment Doctor Aeson appeared to be done with his scrutiny. He lifted a needle with a thread already attached from the bed with one hand and was starting to lift the jaw back towards the body when he paused partway there. The doctor looked around the room, his eyes pausing for a moment on the doors on either side of the room to make sure they were shut, then he put down the thread and plunged his hand into the medical satchel at his side.
After a moment, he pulled a pair of pliers from the bag and hurriedly grabbed a tooth from the opposite side of the infection. This was a tooth that had been removed during a previous infection, covered with gold leaf, and set back into his mouth when the infection had cleared. It had been a costly, experimental procedure, but Jacob had felt that preserving his smile was worth the price. Appearances were important, and gold helped clients feel confident in his financial investment. Doctor Aeson yanked hard, pulling out the tooth, and put it in his pocket before picking up the thread to sew the cheek muscles back together.
Jacob saw air behind the doctor begin to shimmer, and after a moment the shimmer came together to show a chain hanging in the air. The chain was ethereal in form, much like the one Jacob had all over his body, although it was not nearly as long. Also, instead of financially related objects dotting the chain, there were heavy bones of various sizes, massive operating saws, and full glass beakers that did not empty when turned over. A single link appeared in the air and attached itself to the length of chain floating behind the doctor.
Before Doctor Aeson could place a single stitch to repair the partially severed jaw, the front door of the large house slammed shut as someone entered. The doctor hurriedly reached into his bag again, and this time pulled out a small packet of powder. He sprinkled the powder into the open wound, and then grabbed the handkerchief and tied the jaw against the body without sewing it back together. In his hurry, he did not tighten it enough to keep the mouth completely closed, but the door to the bedroom opened before he could finish, so he quickly came to his feet.
A man that Jacob recognized as belonging to the courts entered the room holding a folder containing Jacob’s will. Jacob had sent for a representative of the court that morning in order to make an amendment to his will, an amendment that he could no longer remember. The man and the doctor exchanged words as Cora entered the room, followed by the undertaker and two of his assistants holding a stretcher between them, which they immediately placed on the bed next to Jacob’s body.
Jacob called to the people in the room. He plead openly, sobbing as his helplessness overwhelmed him, seeking help from those who could not hear or see him. After some discussion and paperwork, there was a monetary exchange from the man of the court to the doctor and the undertaker for their services, which he would be reimbursed for from Jacob’s estate, and Jacob’s body was loaded onto the stretcher for processing.
Jacob occasionally called out to Cora and Doctor Aeson helplessly. Then he felt sheer exhaustion overcome him and he wanted to go to sleep. Maybe this was all a horrible nightmare, and once he woke it would be over. Jacob lay down where he stood, falling over and letting the chains drag him to the ground. Once there, he felt a compulsion to stand up and move, to follow … something. It was only then that Jacob realized he was alone in the room, and the door was swinging shut behind Cora, who had held the door open for the body to be removed by the undertaker and his helpers.
Jacob wanted to rest, to find comfort in the nothingness of sleep, to feel refreshed and renewed and possibly awake from the nightmare that was all around him. Yet the urging to go out the door, to move towards his body that was being carried down the grand staircase of his home, grew stronger. Soon he was being dragged to his feet by the chains and lifted into the air. Once his feet touched the ground the urge to move become so strong he could not deny it, and he lumbered towards the doorway.
Jacob resisted the urge. He fought it with everything that he was. He lashed out, shouted, railed against the heavens, yet the painful urging did not leave him. He found he was dragging chains behind him, chains with all of their added excess and weighty objects pulling against him. He felt the chains dragging him backward, trying to stop him from moving forward, yet the urge to move was all the more powerful. Jacob found himself at the top of the stairway, and the small group of people with his body were just reaching the bottom.
The compulsion to follow his body was so strong he could not deny it no matter how tired he felt. He screamed in rage as he plunged forward after his body, floating down the stairs, the weight of the chains never lessoning. Jacob glided to the bottom and continued gliding out the door of the home until he was floating next to the carriage his body was being loaded into. The urge to move left him as he neared his body as if his proximity to it was of paramount importance.
Jacob’s vocal laments were nothing but whimpers and quiet sobs now as he waited for the carriage to move. Then he was pulling his chains along behind the carriage as it moved, occasionally shouting to the heavens for help to end his torment. No one answered. In time, he again fell into quiet moans.
His body was unloaded and brought into the undertaker’s workshop for processing. Jacob had paid quite a large sum to ensure he was buried in the rural gardens so his body would not be desecrated in the mass graves of the slum’s cemeteries. Although the facts were plain as the chains on his soul, Jacob had not come to terms with his death, not fully. In his tormented and fractured mind, he was a victim of something that he could eventually escape, but Jacob Marley was dead as a doornail, and there was no escape to be had.