Redeeming Jacob Marley

By Stephen Miller

Jacob Marley wanders the earth like a vagabond, howling and weeping with each windblown step. He is a soul, doomed to roam the earth day and night, misery without end. . . longing for redemption

With the book "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens as a guide, the combined magic of the Spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future are needed to help Mason Howell, Julia Martin and John Patten rescue Jacob Marley from his eternal torment.

St. Nicholas reveals that the source of Marley's remaining doom is buried with him, a fortune in gold coins, a treasure they must dig up and deliver to the North Pole on Christmas Eve. . . or die trying.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V&E Enterprises
• Release date: Nov 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370041855

Stephen Miller

Stephen Miller is a creator and entrepreneur who has grown his platform to nearly one million followers in just two years through his show The Miller Fam, a channel that displays the beauty of diversity and adoption featuring his large, diverse, adoptive family of nine. No clickbait. No fake drama. Just a story that says, “Where grace guides, we'll go.” With over fifteen years of ministry in some of the nation's largest churches, Stephen has recorded six studio albums and is the author of Liberating King and Worship Leaders, We Are Not Rock Stars.

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Prologue

The Back Story

To begin with, Jacob Marley was dead. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. For almost 200 years his body lay silent in his grave, but his tormented spirit wandered the earth like a vagabond—howling and weeping with each windblown step. He was a doomed soul, condemned by his riches to roam the earth in helpless misery. How long was this doom to last? I didn’t know. Charles Dickens wrote about him in his masterpiece A Christmas Carol. It’s not a very long book. I should have read it myself before... well, I get ahead of myself.

My name is Mason Howell. I’m a 22-year-old college senior studying at the University of Washington. I’m of European decent with blonde hair and green eyes. At five-foot 10 inches, my girlfriend Julia says it’s my smile that makes me stand out in a crowd. Like many students I have a part-time job and student loan debt up to my ears. I have to fit work, study, and sleep into an abnormally busy schedule. Why am I so busy? It’s simple… I’m Santa Claus.

To be clear, I’m not the only Santa Claus. Santa Claus is a title and many people share it on the earth at the same time. St. Nicholas is the conduit of all Christmas magic. He’s the one entrusted with the heart-stones of Christmas, the source of all Christmas magic.

A thousand years ago the world was suffering in poverty and ignorance and it was St. Nicholas that did all he could to bring light to the world by himself; but more needed to be done. So, in an act of love, he created an organization he could share his Christmas magic with. He called it the Santa Claus League.

Every Santa Claus needs a Mrs. Santa Claus and an engineer. John is my best friend. He’s two inches taller than me with wild brown hair and kind of a big nose. His ears poke out and he’s skinny as a beanpole, all knees and elbows… and he was there the day I became Santa Claus.

It all started in high school when Julia was putting on a Christmas party for the kids in our town and her Santa Claus called in sick. Since I was the only one she knew who had a Santa Claus suit, she begged me to help. I wanted to impress her and to help the kids so I agreed, using the old Santa suit that belonged to my Grandpa Adams; it hadn’t been worn since his death.

As John and I rifled through the ancient Santa Claus clothes I found a strange inner-suit packed up with them. It was made of an other-worldly material almost glimmering with power. I cautiously put it on… and a strange force exploded, surrounding me with magic, driving its energy into every cell of my body! And, when I came to my senses? I had all the magic of Santa Claus.

Julia Martin became my, well... my Mrs. Santa Claus. We met on the first day of kindergarten and I’ve been in love with her ever since. She is the most beautiful girl in three states, maybe the whole world, as far as I’m concerned. We’re not married, I wish we were... but her dad stands in the way like a mountain between us.

John became my Rudolph; in other words, my engineer. Each Santa gets to pick out their own magic sleigh and John owns and maintains mine— a 1979, cherry red Chevy Nova.

Now, being Santa Claus isn’t as easy as it sounds. During that first Christmas together in service to the League we fought with Snake Skin, a notorious gang leader and his whole band of criminals. We did such a good job St. Nicholas invited us to become apprentice members. Little did we know that was just the beginning of the dangerous adventures that were waiting for us.

Chapter One

Summoned by Dr. Rawlings

It was a few days before Christmas and I was sitting in Dr. Rawlings’ economics class dreading how I was going to answer the last essay question of his final examination.

The professor was in his mid-50’s and still dressed exactly like he did when he was awarded his doctoral degree at the unheard of age of 21. His graying blond hair was long and perfectly styled. He wore white pants and a white Miami Vice sports coat with a black t-shirt underneath. He was 80s cool and stark, all at the same time.

The words he now scratched on the blackboard seemed to steal the joy from the already depressed classroom. The course, Macroeconomics 302, was his specialty, a required class to finish up my undergraduate degree in Business Management. Dr. Rawlings was the biggest obstacle to completing my degree on time and I had plenty of reason to worry—he prided himself in seeing how many students he could flunk out each semester.

This last essay will make up 40 percent of your grade, he said smugly, while he finished writing the question on the board. I don’t want to spend all winter break grading your tests, so what I want is a one or two sentence response, be it for or against the quotation written on the chalkboard. You will be graded for content, punctuation, and brevity. This is an economics class, not a creative writing course. Ponder your responses carefully. You may begin.

Greed is a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction, the quotation read, Erich Fromm the author. I had tried everything I could to do well on these little mini-essays, but no matter how perfect my grammar or how convincing my arguments, I almost always got back a 60 percent score or less. These daily assignments counted for 40 percent of my grade, and now the final test was based on the same model? I was getting desperate.

I knew how to get a good grade, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Dr. Rawlings firmly believed that economic inequality was the cause of all the evil in the world. To pass his class I would have to write something against ambition and success. Everything Santa Claus is about revolves around encouraging bad children to become good and good children to become great. How could I write anything against ambition and success?

As a member of the Santa Claus League I was given magical powers to encourage goodness. I can stop time when I touch of my nose; I can see who is good and who is bad; I can even envision the past, present, and glimpses of the future for everyone I meet. The magical power that was most useful at this very moment was my ability to see the emotional state of the people in the room by the color they emitted.

When people are happy they light up in pleasant rainbow-like colors that change all the time, based on their moods. The intensity of the light they emit changes as well, depending on how excited they are. Children are especially bright.

Now, when someone is depressed, I see a person surrounded by dark filters that mute out the colors inside them. An angry or greedy person has an aura that erupts in violent displays of energy, flaming like forest fires or exploding like dark thunderbolts from a black storm cloud. Children are never as dark as adults, but when they are upset, watch out, they can turn all the lights out!

As I looked around I saw the different colors coming from everyone in the room. Some students were yellow with contentment; others were gray with boredom. Others were dark green with conflict, not wanting to betray their personal convictions, but not willing to stand up for them either.

My friend Evan Barks was the darkest of all. He had been my last fellow public defender of exceptionalism but, by the looks of him, he wasn't going to stand with me this time. He gave in to necessity, the mother of invention, but also the mother of betrayal.

I stared at my paper for a full five minutes, battling with my own convictions. My time to answer the question was almost up as dark purple sparks of impatience were emitting from Dr. Rawlings’ fingertips. He always sparked like that when he was about to verbally destroy me.

I finally gave into despair and wrote my short essay, trying to be as diplomatic as I could. We all turned in our final exams and he carefully read each final sentence aloud with approving nods, until he got to mine.

Mason Howell, he called out, raging colors swirling around his head, explain this response! ‘Laziness is the bottomless pit which exhausts the person out of sheer boredom in an endless effort to goof off without ever finding satisfaction!’

I think there might be a mistake, sir! I stammered while the rest of the class froze, not daring to move.

Is this your name? He fumed, pointing to the top of the page.

That’s my name.

Are these your other answers for the final exam?

Yes, of course, I stuttered, but what I wrote... At that moment I felt something I hadn't felt for almost an entire semester, a bolt of joy that caused my whole body to tingle. It hit me so hard I had to touch my nose to stop time so I wouldn’t laugh out loud in front of the professor.

When I entered into time-warp (my term for the place I go when I stop time) I found my buddy John Patten standing in the back of the room frozen like a statue. He also has time-warp ability and now I realize he’d used his magic to switch out the answer on my final. To bring him into my time-warp all I had to do was touch him and my nose at the same time. As soon as I did, there he was, bent over laughing.

That was epic! he belted out loud, sparking like a fireworks stand on fire. I can’t believe you didn’t see me take the paper, man. I out Santa Claus’d even you this time!

Very funny, John, I said. Now I’m really in trouble!

You should have seen yourself, he hooted again. That was the best prank I’ve played on you in years.

So you flew outside of time for 300 miles, just to play a practical joke on me?

Sure, why not? he grinned. Have flying car, will travel!

Yeah, well you probably just got me flunked out of this class.

Right, like he was going to like your response any better? he laughed. While I agree with Mr. Fromm’s statement, ambition doesn’t have to lead to greed. The possession of money, wealth, and power doesn’t have to destroy the integrity of the individual if that ambition is directed to worthy purposes.

You’re probably right, I submitted. I guess I was doomed anyway. Did you bring Julia with you?

No, he said. She has a big social event she has to attend back in Moses Lake. We’re supposed to meet her at her parents’ house later on tonight.

That’s good, at least I have something to look forward to. But, do me a favor and stay out of time warp until I get done with class, will you? I’d like to graduate in the spring. You’ve already graduated from MIT last year, so cut me some slack.

Fine, fine, he said. Go back to Dr. Doom, and I’ll get an ice cream. Meet me at the ice cream parlor when you get out, I’ll be with the cutest girl there.

Fine, see you in an hour, I responded and walked back to my seat, preparing myself for the Dr. Rawlings’ wrath. I touched my nose, entering back into the flow of time and prepared to meet my fate. I paused for a moment, trying to remember where the conversation had left off.

And what? Mr. Howell, Dr. Rawlings continued darkly, unaware I had ever left the conversation. Have you lost your memory, too?

Not at all sir, I affirmed, gaining confidence. I take full responsibility for what is written there. I just wished I could say more to prove that ambition is a virtue and not a vice.

After a full semester in my class, Mr. Rawlings snarled, I would think you’d know what kind of answer I’m looking for. I know all about you, Mr. Howell. Student by day, Santa Claus by night. I honestly don’t know why you even bother getting an education with all the fantasies running through your head. Here is a worthwhile quotation from Albert Einstein you can ponder. ‘Three great forces rule the world: stupidity, fear, and greed.’ What do you have to say about that?

Isn’t there a way for industrious people to contribute to society without being stupid, fearful, or greedy? I asked, trying not to antagonize him anymore.

Is there a way for the rich to contribute to society? He sneered. Since we recently studied the economic injustices of the early Industrial Revolution and the Economic Crisis of 1825, the very age your Christmas friend Charles Dickens wrote about, and since it is just a few days before Christmas, let’s conjure up a Christmas Ghost and see what he has to say. Come up here to the front of the class, Mr. Howell and help me. I’ll award you extra credit for this. Knowing your past test scores, you can obviously use it.

Half the students laughed and the others groaned as I stood and walked to the front of the class… uncomfortable, with nervous green sparks darting from my own fingertips. Rawlings walked over to the lights and turned them off, leaving the room dimly lit by a row of emergency lights in the back of the room.

Since most of you here believe in fairytales and the like, he said, channel all your spiritual powers with mine, and Mr. Howell will conjure up the spirit of Jacob Marley to guide us to the path of enlightenment.

I stood dumbfounded, not daring to do something so irreverent. He looked at me and laughed. You really are superstitious, aren’t you? Move out of the way... you’re useless. I’ll do it.

He raised his hands in the air, bowed his head, and with a loud voice solemnly chanted, Hear me… hear me, ye doomed spirits of the wicked rich. Hear me and obey my commands. I summon Jacob Marley, the symbol of oppressive capitalism. I demand that he answer my solemn questions.

In an instant one of the florescent emergency lights in the room flickered on and off and stayed dark, leaving us with just one dim light. A few students in the room gasped, crackling with the blue sparks of surprise, while others emitted a dark green glow of fear. Mr. Rawlings was even more loathingly purple than before, raising his hands in the air as if he were gathering energy from the room. To my surprise, the green energy of fear began to flow to him from the students and he used it with even more effect.

Jacob Marley, he belted as if in a trance, did you steal from the poor? A deadly silence filled the room—but just then the roaring sound of a car rumbling past the classroom window, growling like a doomed soul as it sped away made everyone gasp with astonishment!

I’ll take that as a yes, Mr. Rawlings continued eerily, drawing even more green power from the now-hypnotized class. What is the fate of all those greedy capitalists who steal from the poor?

Suddenly all of the lights in the room flickered on and off several times, causing one of the florescent light tubes to explode in its casing. Now the growling car returned, roaring past the window even louder, followed by an ear-piercing police siren. The class was clearly startled now. Dr. Rawlings continued gathering in all the student’s fear energy, making himself even more powerful, although it was clear he didn’t realize it.

Ignorant of why he felt so elated, Dr. Rawlings was about to speak again when a dark figure rose above him, a spirit that was seen by more people than just myself because four or five girls gave out a piercing scream! Everyone sat back in their chairs, stunned by the unnatural events.

Jacob Marley, I commanded, taking over the frightening conversation. Would giving up on our ambitions make the poor people of the world any better off?

To that question all the lights flickered on and off again, blowing out another two florescent light bulbs, as the air conditioner came on, blowing out a grinding nnnnnnnoooooooo, as the air moved through the vents. That’s enough, I yelled. Mr. Marley, I order you to return to your realm.

As if on cue all the remaining lights flickered back on as the air conditioner turned off. A huge gust of wind twirled around the room, blowing all the papers off the desks. The whole class sat perfectly still, too startled to do move.

As the dark spirit left, something cold and foreboding swept through me. Save me, it whispered then evaporated into the ethers.

Class dismissed, Dr. Rawlings growled, turning his purple sparks into red thunderbolts and shooting them at me. If you think good vibrations will help you pass this class, Mr. Howell, think again. I told you not to believe in fairytales.

Yes sir, I responded trying to catch my breath. I hurried to my desk and gathered up all my stuff. As I was leaving the room white fireworks exploded right in front of my face. I jumped back in surprise, turning around to see where it came from—Evan Barks was on fire, his countenance absolutely exploding with confidence and purpose.

The rest of the class barely moved even though the test was over. Colors of all kinds swirled around the room, clashing into each other and erupting like volcanoes. The students who admired Dr. Rawlings and his ideas were aflame with indignation and anger, while those who supported my ideas had rallied with sparking power. Even the previously bored students were taking sides on the issue.

Suddenly a red thunderbolt crashed into my chest.

Leave now! Dr. Rawlings boomed, sensing he had lost whatever power he had temporarily gained.

Dare to fight for your dreams! I yelled, closing the door and rushing down the hall to meet John at the ice cream parlor. I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes the folly of youth gets the best of a guy.

Chapter Two

Mission Control

John was just paying for a double scoop of ice cream when I walked in. I knew the place by heart as I worked in the back, cleaning up the processing plant at night. When John saw me he smiled and motioned for me to come over.

Hey what are you doing here so fast? I didn’t even have a chance to ask Barbara here on a date, he said. The girl behind the counter smiled and started helping another customer.

He cut the final short. I guess Dr. Rawlings doesn’t like differences of opinion.

Or any opinion other than his own, John jeered. Get yourself a cone and let’ head over to Julia’s.

Something really weird happened though, I admitted a few minutes after getting my own ice cream. It freaked me out, to tell ya the truth.

Sounds interesting, John said with a smile, I should have stuck around. What happened?

I think Dr. Rawlings may have contacted a ghost. It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.

I doubt that… we’ve seen some really strange stuff, but go on, I like the sound of this.

This was right up there with the strangest... and as the spirit was leaving it begged for my help. I’ll tell you all about it on the way to my apartment. What’s the plan for us to get home?

You tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine, he said mysteriously. I finally gave in and explained the whole thing to him and he just gave me a shrug.

I don’t know what to tell you, that was definitely weird, but that’s what I like about you. There’s never a dull moment when you’re around… and in honor of our friendship, I’m returning the favor.

What does that mean? I asked apprehensively. We’re driving home, wink-wink, and then heading over to Julia’s place. After that we’ll eat more ice cream and make the finishing touches on the Sub-for-Santa lists. How does that sound?

It all sounds good except for the wink-wink part.

Don’t be such a baby, he chided. I’ve just made a few improvements to the old Nova I think you’ll like, so let’s jet out of here.

It didn’t take very long to grab everything I needed to visit home for three weeks—my laptop, a few clothes, and my toothbrush. After it was all piled in the trunk, John looked at me and grinned.

Hop in, he said merrily, pointing to the front seat. We only have a few hours before we have to meet with Julia and I want to try out some improvements!

Are we going hypersonic again? I moaned.

Maybe, he said, but check this out, I have a new way of switching my steering wheel to flying mode. Now I can pull it up and back just like I was flying an airplane. I have new meteor shielding too, and oh, look at this! I developed a new oxygen helmet with a 3D Augmented-Reality-Heads-Up-Display. I’m even using retina-tracking. I can’t wait for you to see it in action!

I have no idea what you just said, I admitted, jumping in the front seat of the car, buckling up like I was strapping into a fighter jet. Will we have enough time to check it all out before we meet with Julia?

Sure, no problem, he said cheerfully. We’re only flying to Moses Lake. What’s there to worry about?

Spoken like a true engineer. Where’s this helmet you’re so proud of?

It’s stowed under your seat, John said. You should put it on now.

Won’t we look suspicious wearing flight helmets? I said, jamming the flight helmet on my head.

Don’t worry, he said. I’ve got tinted windows, no one will notice anything. Relax man, and enjoy the ride!

I expected the uncomfortable restricted vision of his old flight helmet, but instead the helmet completely disappeared and I could see everything like I was driving in a convertible. Where’d the helmet go?

How do you like Augmented-Reality? John smiled, looking at me wearing a completely different set of clothes. Everything you see is being generated by the helmet.

Wow, you have been busy, I said, turning my head from side to side, checking out the scenery around me. I’m impressed, but really, you don’t have to show me all your high tech gadgets… I’m good.

Mason, Mason, Mason, he smiled deviously, flipping switches and reconfiguring the car for our flight. You haven’t seen anything yet.

John touched the side of his face and spoke to an unseen person. Seattle Radar, Santa Claus League two zero one, Seattle Washington, requesting flight plan Sierra Juliet zero five one, hypersonic flight to Moses Lake, Washington.

This is Seattle Radar, a crackling voice responded over the radio. Position and hold.

They have to get all the old men out of the way, John said, grinning ear to ear. Some of them don’t like my new sleigh, they think it’s too aggressive.

I wonder why? I asked. But I don’t know why they are getting so bent out of shape, we’re only flying to Moses Lake after all… right?

Right, he agreed, with a mysterious grin. Santa Claus League two zero one, the radio crackled. Seattle Radar, in communication with North Control Tower, cleared for takeoff, Hypersonic Flight Plan ….

Hallo, John, a friendly Germanic voice boomed over the speaker, interrupting the air traffic controller. Good luck today, Yah? I’ll be following your test flight.

Thanks Rudolph, John responded happily. If I run into trouble can you help us out before we crash?

Yah. Yah, no problem, he answered sincerely. We don’t want our newest League members killed in an accident.

We’re not full members of the League yet, John reminded him.

Yah. Yah, apprentice members, he corrected.

Why haven’t we been invited to become full members yet? John asked. We use our Christmas magic all the time, why the wait?

You do ask a good question, Rudolph agreed, but don’t ask me. St. Nicholas doesn’t always share his secrets. Although, maybe it’s because you’re not married yet, have you thought of that? You’ve had plenty of time, what’s the delay?

Fear of commitment! John blurted.

Speak for yourself, I objected.

I am speaking for myself, John corrected. "That’s why I’m not married. I don’t know why you’re not married. Julia’s been begging you to propose for months