Bob Cratchit’s House – Stave 3
Bob Cratchit’s House – Stave 3
One of the books we read in reading class this year was A Christmas Carol and for one of the end assignments, we could pick from a bunch of different options. I chose to rewrite a scene with the newly changed Scrooge. I picked stave 3 where originally the second spirit takes him to watch Bob Cratchit and rewrote it a year later after Scrooge’s transformation. I like adding a bunch of tiny details so most of the stuff mentioned pertains to something that happens in the actual book. Additionally, I attempted to write kind of like Charles Dickens in the way the sentences were worded (it’s nothing like it especially since he is a literal legend of writing but I tried my best) Anyways, hope you enjoy it!
The door to the Cratchit’s abode swung open with a chorus of high-pitched creeks. In walked a person, which a year ago, it would have been absolute madness to even attempt to imagine that they would be seen in the silhouette of the doorframe. Yet here he was, Ol’ Scrooge himself, and bearing gifts. His arms seemed to overflow with presents for the six children.
He had walked into a scene constructed of joy and warmth despite the walls being thin and objects of comfort few. The two smallest Cratchit’s were in the middle of bouncing round Tiny Tim trying to show him a new trick they had learned. Tiny Tim laughed and watched with a patience most grown adults never attain in their lives. Martha was tidying up some of the ribbons in Belinda’s hair while Mrs. Cratchit was humming as she stirred a sauce. Peter was fiddling with his collars; he was obviously proud of the fact that they seemed to fit more snuggly than last year. They did not appear to even notice the lack of presents under their small but sturdy tree or the lack of warmth coming from the tiny fire which sent shadows dancing on the walls.
“Ah Master Peter,” Scrooge teased, “I see you fit nicely into your collars this year.” The child puffed his chest and started a new round of tampering with the aforementioned collars.
“Mr. Scrooge! What an honor you do us this fine Christmas Eve!” said Bob Cratchit as he crossed the room. “We weren’t quite sure if you would actually join us.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He replied. A glance over at Mrs. Cratchit told Scrooge she was still wary of him. Most people thought it amazing how he had changed overnight. If he was completely honest it still confounded Scrooge himself.
“Mr. Scrooge you shouldn’t have…” Bob’s eyes had finally caught hold of the items in Scrooge’s arms.
“Well it’s too late to return them now,” replied Scrooge.
“At least let me take them from you.” A few minutes later the boxes were secured tidily under the tree, and supper was being set down upon the table. Scrooge scooped up Tiny Tim and ushered the rest of the children towards the dinner table. Mrs. Cratchit grabbed the plate in front of Scrooge but he urged her to set it down again. “I have to make my way to my nephew’s later, I’ll eat there.”
“Are you sure?” pushed Mrs. Cratchit.
“I thank you but I am quite sure Madam.” The younger children could no longer control their eagerness and tore into the feast set before them. There was the favoured goose in the place of honor at the middle of the table drenched in Mrs. Cratchit’s famous gravy. There were the mashed potatoes and fresh applesauce, whose aromas swirled with the fresh rolls that Scrooge had brought.
After the initial rush of piling food high on their plates, the conversation started in full. The children took great delight in guessing what was in their gifts. They pondered until they gave up and turned on Scrooge battering him with an onslaught of questions, to which he never answered but with a smirk upon his face. “Alright, leave him be,” joked Bob. The children chattered amongst themselves while the adults talked of things that adults often do. The plates had been empty for around 10 minutes when Mrs. Cratchit declared that, “It was time for pudding,” to which she was met with a round of cheers.
The younger children bounced in their seats and Mr. Cratchit stirred the mixture hanging over the fire until Mrs. Cratchit emerged victorious with pudding in hand. All the fears the Cratchits had each year about the precious pudding dissipated as the pudding glided smoothly out of the casing. Another smattering of whoops and cheers prodded everyone to grab their pieces. Even Scrooge could not refuse a smidge. If he didn’t remember how he had another dinner to get to later or how small the pudding was he would have asked for seconds. As that was the pudding was soon gone and everyone made their way to the fire, where another chair was brought over for the newcomer.
The children, although not saying it aloud, fidgeted and begged with their eyes until the adults declared it was present time. Master Peter went first, to find a new suit to go with his collars. Such a perfect gift caused the rest of the kids to become even more restless and Belinda was chosen to go next. Inside of hers, she found a doll with a matching set of ribbons. One by one the children went, the small ones getting teddy bears and candy and Martha getting a new shawl and bonnet. Tiny Tim opened his in which he found a book, and Scrooge told him he planned on teaching him how to read. Finally, the lemon mixture was ready and was passed around while the children gushed over their gifts.
“A Merry Christmas to us all. God bless us!” Bob declared to which everyone echoed.
“God bless each and every one of us!” Tiny Tim said last of all and true to the past.
“Mr. Scrooge! The provider of this merry feast and giver of gifts!” Scrooge was then filled with such an unexplainable sense of joy and appreciation mixed with emotions of humility that he could not place. Their familiar words had transported him back to the year before when he had been an unseen trespasser. Meeting Mrs. Cratchit’s eye, he no longer saw disgust or distrust. He had been welcomed in even after his behavior during the previous years. Scrooge wiped tears out of his eyes.
Another hour passed full of talk of Peter’s new job, Martha’s troubles with her long hours, and the monstrous weather recently. Seated between his father and Scrooge, holding tight to both of their hands, little Tim led the group in a song. His sweet voice broke through the air creating a sense of tranquility.
Too soon Scrooge realized the time and that he should be on his way to his nephew’s house. He gathered up his hat and cane while saying goodbye and thanking them for such an enjoyable time. He was about to open the door when he heard a “Wait!” and turned to see Tiny Tim making his way over. Once he reached Scrooge he threw his arms around him and whispered in his ear, “Thank you so much, Mister.” Again Scrooge was hit with that feeling which was so peculiar. He would never quite get used to it and although it was strange Scrooge never wanted it to leave. If he felt like this every day till he died, his life would be a happy one to be sure.
Tiny Tim finally let go and Scrooge was allowed to start on his way out again. He glanced back right before leaving and felt at peace, something he hadn’t felt for years. Scrooge turned and traveled out the door.