“Grandfather! I would be most honored if you would attend Christmas dinner with me along
with the rest of the family!” Darren Harris announced to his grandfather, James. James R. Harris
looks up from his work and studies his grandson’s eager face.
“Why on earth would I do that? I’m far too busy – especially this time of year. Besides, I’m
not sure anyone wants to see my discouraged face,” James says with a look of disgust.
“Oh, but grandfather! You must come! I’m sure everyone would love to see you! It’s
Christmas time! A time for peace, joy, and celebrating!” Darren answers. Harris just leans back
in his brown leather chair and stares long and hard at Darren.
Then he takes a deep breath and says, “Must you always come to me so cheerful? It bothers
me. It’s like no one in this dreadful town understands what reality is!” Darren shoves his hands
into his pockets, glances at the blackened, un-swept floor, then back at Harris.
He speaks, “Maybe we don’t want to know what reality is. I think you’re trapped in it. I know
you didn’t always use to be that way. What happened?” James’s glassy, blue eyes narrow as he
ponders over his thoughts of what to say. He opens his mouth slightly, but decides not to talk.
Darren is looking at Harris with a smirk. “Maybe you shouldn’t bottle up your emotions,”
Darren states and turns his eyes up to the ceiling. James gets up from his chair and puts his
hands on his polished wooden desk.
Then he straightens up and says to Darren, “I’m not going. I think this holiday is just a waste
of time. It’s only an excuse for beggars to take your money.” He passes by Darren to the
staircase.
Just before he walks up the first step, Darren says, “You’ll never get it, will you?” Harris
pauses, his hand on the side of the door, then continues up the steps. Darren gazes down at his
grandfather’s paper-cluttered desk and says to himself, “I pray that someone will save him.”
--------------------------------------------Upstairs, Harris mumbles to himself as he walks through the darkened hallway. The dustcovered windows provide only a dim, gray, light. He opens the chipped wooden door to his
large study and collapses in his faded fabric arm chair. Deep in thought, he places his head on
his hand, strumming his scruffy, gray whiskers. As if a crowd were in the room, he hears his
thoughts echoing around him, people from his past playing memories in the present. Out of
thin air, a flashback plunges into him.
“James, I’m busy.”
“But father, I have nothing to do in this desolate place. Why can’t you tell me a story? Why
do you have to work so much? Why does . . .”
“JAMES! ENOUGH!”
Eight year old James shrinks back in fear and sorrow as his father glares at him. He
apologizes and leaves, wondering why his dad never has time for him. He wonders why his
mother left . . .
“Now I know why,” James says to himself. He gets up from the arm chair and stands near the
cold window. He wipes a peering on the glass and looks out over the cobble-stone streets
below. People of all ages strut through the snow and pass gifts among each other. “Fools,”
Harris mutters. His voice echoes through the emptiness.
-----------------------------------------------Meanwhile, Mr. Stanley takes the key from his pocket and unlocks the heavy door to his small
house. Warm air that smells of baking bread surrounds him as he steps inside.
“Hello, beloved family! I found a wreath at Burette’s store. Charley? Would you mind helping
me put it up?” Stanley says.
“Yes father. It looks wonderful!” Stanley’s son Charley exclaims.
“I’m sure it will look lovely hanging on the door.” Mrs. Stanley says. She rolls up her sleeves
and begins flattening out cookie dough.
Mr. Stanley removes his coat and places it on one of the kitchen chairs. He stops a moment
and admires how ready his home is to celebrate Christmas. The children’s stockings are hung
above the fire place, and the hand-cut Christmas tree stands between two wooden sofas in the
family room. The orange fire crackles on the hearth.
“How’s Sarah?” Stanley asks his wife.
A small, weak voice from the bedroom squeaks out, “I’m alright.”
“I think you should be resting instead of using all your energy to chatter,” Mrs. Stanley turns
to Mr. Stanley, “She’s been sick all day, and she’s been asking to help with chores. I’ve given her
water and I’ve fed her. I think I should go to Martha’s tomorrow and pick up some medicine.”
Her face turns back to the pale little girl lying in a bed full of quilts. “What if her fever doesn’t
break?” Mrs. Stanley asks.
“Have faith, dear. I’m sure she’ll be alright,” Mr. Stanly tries to comfort his wife.
“I sure hope so,” Mrs. Stanley says and looks back at Sarah. Outside it begins to snow.
------------------------------------------------Later that night, James sits on a thickly-furnished chair inside his house. The living room he’s
in is lit by only a few candles, with the fire to accompany them. It is now almost midnight, one
hour to Christmas. Harris skims over the newspaper in his hands, sipping a glass of wine. His
reading glasses shine with the fire light. Creeeeaaaak. James’s eyes look up from the paper, but
his head doesn’t move. His eyes turn to the side. A feeling of cold air rushes into the room. His
eyes stare forward at the window across the room. The red velvet curtain sways slightly. Heavy
footsteps sound outside the door behind James. He slowly sets the newspaper on the round
side table and takes a dagger out of the drawer. The doors handle shakes, then silence.
Suddenly, the door bursts open. Harris springs up from his chair, spins around, and points the
dagger at who just entered.
“Is this how you greet your brother? With a knife?”
“John?” Harris says, surprised.
“Well of course it’s me! Who’d you expect? Santa Clause? He’s not visiting your house this
year, and if you don’t wise up, you’ll end up in a grave!” John shouts at James. John looks like
an almost exact copy of James except his hair is brown and his eyes are green. James gets
struck by another flashback.
“Hey, John? May I see that fine switch blade of yours?” James asks his younger step-brother
Johnathan Peters. At this time, James has come home for Thanksgiving dinner and is 30 years of
age. John is 16. They’re inside their father’s house, standing at the bottom of the hardwood
staircase in the foyer.
“Alright, but only for a minute.” John replies firmly.
“Certainly, brother from another mother.” James says and laughs. John looks at him with
disgust and hands him the switch blade. James twirls it in his hand and brags at the same time.
“I bet you can’t twirl it as good as this. I bet -” The blade slips from his hand and falls into John’s
chest. John looks directly at James, his mouth wide open, and then collapses. James stares down
at John, with his mouth open as well. He questions himself softly, “What have I done?” James’s
father rushes in and sees John, lifeless on the floor. He turns quickly to James and strikes him
across the face.
“YOU KILLED MY SON!!” James’s father screams.
In his mind, James was thinking, “I didn’t do it on purpose. And, I’m your son too, aren’t I?”
“James!” John shouts. Harris zips out the flashback. He looks at John in bewilderment.
James starts to speak, “I . . . thought you were. . .”
“- Dead?” John finishes. “Yes. But luckily, I’ve been granted the request to help you out of
your poor state.” James gazes at John, confused. John continues, “Tonight, you will be visited by
three good friends of mine. They are also dead, but I’m sure they can get you to be less of a
disgrace to the world.” John gives Harris a crooked smile. “Enjoy the haunting,” he says, and
then disappears into thin air. James falls back against the chair, trying to interpret what he just
saw. He stands upright again and gives his focus to the floor.
“What on earth did he mean by that?” Harris speaks to himself.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. James turns his head to it, unsure of what to do. He
says, “Come in.” The door opens ever so slightly and a young girl peeks through the opening.
Then, looking a little uneasy, she opens the door to its full extent. James turns and faces her
directly. She closes the door behind her and keeps her distance from him. Her long, wavy, dark
brown hair cascades down her shoulders. Her pale skin is almost as white as her dress. Her
deep brown eyes tear into Harris’s soul, and make him feel pity for her. She appears to be
fifteen.
“Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?” James asks, his voice keeping
to a low tone.
The girl remains firm and says, “My name is Sheila. I am here to help you to become a better
person, but I cannot do that of you don’t agree to see your past. You may think it’s strange, but
believe me, it’s for your own good.” She speaks firmly and stares directly at Harris.
“You’re a ghost?” James says, still somewhat bewildered. “How did you die?”
Sheila looks down at the floor, then back up at Harris. All she tells him is, “Illness.” She holds
out her hand to him. Not completely thinking but still curious, James takes her hand. She
doesn’t take her focus from his face; it shows no emotion. Then, white light fills the entire room
and engulfs them.
--------------------------------------------------
In a short moment, they reappear, unnoticed, inside James’s father’s house. They’re in the
party room, on Christmas Eve. Long tables with linen table clothes line the walls and are filled
with all sorts of holiday foods. The floor shines and couples dance all over it. Three crystal
chandeliers hang from the crown-molded ceiling. Lively yet classical music is being played by a
well-dressed band on the balcony. James and Sheila stand in a corner next to a table with
desserts on it.
“I remember this.” James says and looks at Sheila with a pained expression. Quickly, a couple
runs over to the dessert table and stop with an enormous halt.
“Elizabeth! You could’ve run right into the cake!” A young man with black hair says to a
blonde-haired young lady.
“Please don’t make me watch this.”James pleads to Sheila. The blonde girl is wearing a
flowing blue dress with a long, sleeveless white sweater. The black-haired guy is wearing a black
tux with a tie that matches the color of the girl’s dress.
“Well, I think I’d rather have vanilla cake and frosting all over my dress instead of an apple
pie.” The girl says and laughs with the boy. She picks up a chocolate cupcake with white frosting
and takes a big lick out of it and almost shoves the whole thing in her mouth. After she
swallows, she and the boy start laughing again. She says, “I’m so rude. How do you put up with
me?”
“You’re adorable.” The boy looks at her and says. A tear rolls down James’s cheek as he
watches them. The girl and the boy look at each other for a moment, then soft music starts to
play. They grasp each other’s hands and walk to the middle of the floor. James cries a little
harder as the couple begins to dance.
Sheila turns her gaze to Harris and says, “This is the Christmas that changed your life. You
have to let it go. Trust me when I tell you that she’s happy. I know who she is. She watches over
you and wishes that you would be nicer to people. She wants you to be happy as well, but you
keep blocking out your chance.” James looks up from his lap, tears still running down his face.
“Really? Can I see her?” James begs Sheila.
“Change your attitude first.” She answers to him.
Suddenly, there’s a groan that comes from the middle of the dance floor. The girl, Elizabeth,
collapses in front of the boy, James’s younger self. The younger James struggles to help her and
calls out, “Someone, please! Go get help!” He tries to keep her up. Her eyelids slowly flutter.
“Elizabeth? Elizabeth, please, can you hear me? Elizabeth?” She doesn’t answer him and starts
to fall backward, her eyes closing. A few people have left to get help, but it’s too late. “Please,
no. Elizabeth?” The younger James starts to cry and his voice rises. “Elizabeth! Please, no. Don’t
leave me! No!” Elizabeth lays in his arms, unmoving. The real James puts his head in his hands
and slides to the floor, his elbows resting on his knees. The white light surrounds him and he
looks up, seeing that he’s returned to his home. Sheila is looking at him in sorrow.
“Change, and you can see her again. I promise,” Sheila tells James and then disappears into
thin air.
-------------------------------------------------------Harris sits back in his fabricated chair. His face is still moist from his tears, but his mind is
more focused on what happened only a moment ago. His face is full of worry, pain, and
disbelief, and his short, finely trimmed gray hair seems even grayer then it was. The fire still
softly crackles on the hearth, with two of the candles no longer ablaze.
Lost in thought, he snaps out of his past and back into the present when he hears a British
accent behind him, “I’m sorry you had to lose someone like that.” Harris takes his head out of
his hands and slowly turns around.
“Who are you?” he asks the 17 year old boy behind him.
“I’m Noland. I’m here to give you a glimpse of what’s going on around you at this very
moment. You won’t really have a choice whether you want to go or not,” says the boy. His skin
is almost yellow and his hair is long and the color of cinnamon. His eyes are emerald green. His
coat and pants are the same color as his hair. His shoes are black and polished with a gold
buckle. One striped stocking is green and white, and the other is red and white. Around his neck
is a deep red bow tie.
Noland floats down and lands next to the chair as James stands up.
“You’re another ghost. What happened to you?” James asks.
“Well . . . I was thrown out on the streets when I was a small boy. I managed to survive off of
anything the townspeople offered me and what was thrown away. But one day, I stumbled
upon the wealthy side of the town. A woman saw me and called the police. They beat me to
death, although I did nothing wrong,” Noland answers.
“Then why are you dressed like that?” James wonders aloud.
“After you die, you don’t have to dress like a bum anymore,” Noland says and glances down
at his outfit, then brings his focus back to James with a look of satisfaction.
“Ready to go?” Noland holds out his hand to Harris. Harris takes it and instantly becomes
transparent. They fly out of Harris’s house and into the cold night air. Immediately, James’s suit
looses it feel of warmth. They enter through the roof of a grand mansion as if it were not even
there, then land next to a wall in the living room. Many young adults sit on two large red sofas
with golden seams. They are separated by an oak wood coffee table, with the stone fire place
aglow in the center of the east wall. The huge Christmas tree is displayed in the corner.
Everyone is sipping drinks and laughing. Then James realizes something; they’re talking about
him.
----------------------------------------------------------A dark-haired girl laughs and says, “I bet old Harris is sitting in his house all alone feeling
sorry for himself. He probably doesn’t even know that he’s the one causing the problem!”
Everyone bursts out laughing.
A blonde boy sitting near the fireplace says, “I think every person in town is too afraid of him
to offer any hospitality!” One again, everyone starts laughing.
Darren, James’s grandson, sits closest to where James and Noland are. He says, “He bottles
up his emotions and refuses to let anyone in. He won’t tell anyone what he’s stressed about.”
As Darren speaks, the group becomes quiet and looks around at each other. James walks over
to Darren, even though he knows that no one can see him.
He puts his hand on Darren’s shoulder and says, “I’m sorry for being so cruel. I’ll tell you
everything. Just come and see me. I promise I’ll tell you.” Everyone in the room is still glancing
around at each other.
Noland is silent, but then walks up behind Harris and says, “There’s still one place I need to
take you.”
James turns to face Noland. “Ok,” is all he says, and takes Noland’s hand. They float out of
the mansion and go to a house near the town square. The roof is slightly caved in, and a lit
candle is placed in the window. A holiday wreath hangs on the wooden door. Landing by the
tiny Christmas tree, James sees a man and his wife sitting at the dinner table in the small
kitchen. Few cabinets are on the wall. Two of them are open, holding very little food.
The woman, Mrs. Stanley, is saying to her husband, Mr. Stanley, “I’ve gone to Martha’s
earlier, as you know, but she told me she had not had time to make the medicine. Many other
children are sick as well, and their mothers cleaned out the shelves before I got there. What are
we going to do about Sarah? What if she dies? I’m afraid!”
“Don’t speak like that, wife! We will find a cure. We will pray for her. She’ll be all right, I’m
sure of it! She must be!” Mr. Stanley says and turns to the bedroom where Sarah is sleeping. His
face is worried, but he still tries to encourage himself that his daughter will make it. A tear slips
from his eye.
Little Sarah sleeps under many quilts, her eyes surrounded by dark circles and her face
deeply pale. Stanley says, “I was thinking about asking James Harris if he could spare any tithe
to save our daughter, but by what I have heard about him, I don’t think that would be the best
choice of action.”
“What on earth are we to do now? I don’t want to lose her, husband,” Mrs. Stanley lays her
head down in her arms on the table. Mr. Stanley strokes his wife’s head.
“I’ll talk to him anyway. It’s worth a try,” he says.
James looks puzzled and pitiful. He looks at Noland and says nothing. Noland puts his hand
on James’s shoulder and says, “I’ll leave it up to you to decide if you want to help these
people.” As Noland says this, the scene changes from the Stanley house back to Harris’s home.
“I hope you’ll have a better understanding of things,” Noland tells Harris. Harris gazes at Noland
in suspicion, then turns away. When he looks back, Noland is gone.
-------------------------------------------------------------James places his hand on the chair, processing the events of the night. Even though his sight
isn’t set on the fire, he notices it becomes brighter. He looks to it. The flames begin to consume
more than the wood and charcoal. It starts to spread outside the fireplace, eating at the wall
and jumping to the curtains and setting them to flames. The floor is devoured by fire around
Harris. He tries to scream for help but falls through the burning floor. He continually falls into
unknown territory and hits the ground hard and lets out a sharp groan. He opens his eyes and
sees barren fields of dirt. The sky all around him is the color of fire. A dark figure forms from the
ground up from a cloud of black dust. It turns into another boy, who appears to be the same
age as Noland. The boy wears a black cloak and holds a staff with a red crystal above it. His skin
is pale and gray. His hair is shaven off and black. His eyes red bright red and they stare angrily at
Harris. The boy puts on an evil grin.
“Well, well, well,” he says, “Somehow I knew I would end up executing you.” James’s eyes
become large and his heart starts to pound.
“Who are you? Why must I be executed?” James asks the boy, frightened by what he just
heard.
“My name is Lucifer, and you must be executed because of all the despicable things you’ve
done in your life. I enjoy seeing how terrible you are to people, but I have a greater desire to kill
you instead of sitting and watching you yell at everyone you meet.” The crystal above Lucifer’s
staff starts to glow and is set to fire. His eyes appear on fire as well. He points his staff in the
direction of James.
Just before the ray of red light hits Harris, a familiar voice yells, “LUCIFER, STOP!” The crystal
stops glowing but Lucifer’s eyes are still on fire as he swings his head toward the voice; Sheila.
Her and Noland are a short distance away from James and Lucifer, both of them furious at what
Lucifer was about to do. “You’re not supposed to kill him! What’s the matter with you?” she
screams at him.
He yells back at her, “It’s a habit and I enjoy watching it! You have no right to burst into my
realm and give me a thousand orders!”
Noland shouts, “You can’t execute him! He’s on the verge of changing!” James just stands
alert, moving his head to each person who speaks. Lucifer turns and looks at James with a
horrifyingly mad expression. He turns back to Sheila and Noland.
Then all he says is, “Fine. But if he doesn’t change, I’m going to kill him.” Lucifer waves his
staff and instantly, a grave forms in the dirt. He looks back at James. “That’ll be waiting for
you,” he says to Harris and points to the grave. Then he waves his staff again and James
appears back in his home. The sun is rising in the east with colors of gold, pink, and purple.
------------------------------------------------------------------James stands and thinks for a minute. Then his face lights up and he rushes over to the
window. Then, spinning around, he throws open the door, whips on his coat, and sprints down
the staircase. He runs out the front door and down the street to his workplace. The carolers
become silent and he stops. “Keep singing! It’s Christmas! Why have you stopped? Continue,
for it’s a time to rejoice!” The carolers smile and start up again.
Sitting at his desk, James hears the door open and Darren walks in. He slowly approaches his
grandfather and asks one more time, “Grandfather? Are you sure you don’t want to come to
dinner?” Harris looks up from his desk.
He says, “I won’t come – unless I bring the turkey!” He starts laughing when he sees Darren
looking at him in surprise.
Darren says, “Well, alright then! Thank you, grandfather!”
James gives him a smile and speaks, “If you’ll excuse me, I have something to take care of,”
then gets up and leaves.
---------------------------------------------------------------------Harris knocks on the door of a poor house with a wreath hanging on the door. The locked
door shakes a little, then opens. Mr. Stanley stands in the entrance.
He says, “Oh! Mr. Harris!”
Harris interrupts, “Please, call me James.”
Mr. Stanley looks surprised but answers, “Um, ok, James.”
James continues, ”Now, I understand that you have an ill daughter – Sarah, right?” Mr.
Stanley glances back into his home, then turns back to Harris and nods his head. James says, “I
came by because I was wondering if you needed assistance getting a vaccine. I’ll gladly help you
with that.” Once again, Stanley looks shocked.
“Really?” he asks, “You’d seriously do that for us?”
James replies excitedly, “Of course!”
“Why thank you!” Mr. Stanley says in amazement.
James returns a smile and speaks assuringly, “You’re quite welcome.”
------------------------------------------------------------------In the end, Harris learned to be a better person and turned his life around. He got to see
Elizabeth, and is still in touch with Sheila, Noland, and his brother, John. Lucifer was never seen
after that. James also learned to accept others and showed more kindness every Christmas –
and throughout the rest of his life.
Elyssa