Realizing that our time may be short before the Ghost made another pass up the ridge – we scrambled, dragging “Mudcat” who was still carrying on incoherently.
We arrived at Preacher and Mrs. Weems little room in the back of the community church about ten minutes later. “Patch and I were out of breath from having dragged his big brother most of the way. So as we caught our breath, “Mudcat” began to tell our tale:
“Bee dank bee daw duh kissmuddose! Bee dank bee daw duh kissmuddose! EE dried doh keebee!...”
Preacher Weems looked befuddled.
“Patch” and I set in to telling him the story in English.
When we finished, the Preacher looked at us sadly.
“Fear takes on a life of its own, boys. When you deal in fear, your mind will provide the evidence of what you are afraid of” he said.
We looked at each other. We thought he would want to contact the Slightville Newspaper to tell our story. Instead he was talking gibberish about fear.
“You don’t believe we saw the Christmas Ghost?!” I asked.
“Son, I believe you think you saw it. When you get all wrapped up in fear, your imagination runs away with you” the Preacher countered.
“-Oh and I duess dis busted lip I dot dust happened aye!?” added “Mudcat” the swelling beginning to diminish.
“If you are afraid of something, your mind makes it become bigger and scarier than it really is!”
Mrs. Weems entered the room with some hot cocoa and some dry blankets.
“Boys,” Preacher Weems began again, “yours is the second story I have heard about this so-called Christmas Ghost tonight. And tomorrow the whole mountainside will likely be buzzing with these tales. That’s why I aim to put a stop to this here and now!”
“Did you boys ever hear of Charles Dickens?”
We stared blankly.
“-Ever hear of ‘A Christmas Carol’?”
More blank stares.
“What about you Dillweed?” and with that, Preacher Weems turned to the door where we saw none other than Dillweed Cloves entering from the other room.
Dillweed looked awful – more awful than usual. He looked like he had seen a ghost. He looked like he had been beaten up by a ghost!
Dillweed joined us as the Preacher continued.
“Dillweed, that story you tell about the Christmas Ghost: what is the man’s name – his full name?”
Dillweed replied “Ben – Ben Rooge. Oh his full name… lessee it’s EBONY …. um … something like a Bible name…. um Xer.. Xerx-that’s it! EBONY- Xerx-Rooge!”
The Preacher corrected him, “Not Ebony Xerx Rooge – it’s Ebenezer Scrooge. He’s the character in Charles Dickens’ classic ‘A Christmas Carol’ and the point of that story is not the ghosts; it’s a story about redemption!”
“That story didn’t occur around here – it was in England. Someone heard that story long ago and retold and it became a legend around here. But it simply isn’t true.”
“Folks around here are so quick to believe every little scary tale or superstition that they lose touch with the beauty of things like art and literature. Instead they quickly turn them into something foreboding and fearful.”
You boys are just like most folks along this Pass who live in more chains that Scrooge or his partner ever had – that’s what fear does to people – it ties them up. It’s like running around in the dark.
The old Prophet said ‘the people that lived in darkness – have seen a great Light!’ when he foretold about the first Christmas.
The angels came to those shepherds on a lonely hillside, in the dark and the shepherds were so afraid . . . but the angel said ‘fear not, for I bring you good news!”
Christmas is not about ghosts – it’s about good news! God’s gift to us; His only Son came as a Baby to live like us and then die for our sins and rise again.
Isn’t that a better story for Christmas time?”
“Patch” spoke up “Yeah, but what about the Ghost – we saw him!”
“That’s what fear does “Patch”, it makes you see things that aren’t there and causes you to miss things that are there. The Christmas story’s message is “do not be afraid’” Preacher Weems continued “you didn’t see the Christmas Ghost – you saw . . . Dillweed.”
Dillweed hung his head sheepishly.
Not five minutes before the boys had burst into the Preachers quarters, Dillweed had arrived with a similar story of seeing the Christmas Ghost.
Dillweed had been coming down the Pass late in the evening when he heard all the commotion with “Mudcat’s” caper and the blazing barrel. Dillweed only heard the screams and saw the blazing fireball rolling down the mountain.
Too scared to move, Dillweed huddled down beside a tree, afraid to approach the path of the Christmas Ghost. It happened that the tree he was hiding beside was the same tree that “Mudcat’s” buddies had tied the rope and bucket of coals to. The rain of fire and the exploding bucket was all Dillweed could stand and in a panic he had grabbed his lantern and took off across the mountain crying for dear life.
When “Mudcat’s” friends heard Dillweed, they got scared and took off. Their cries frightened Dillweed even further and he got confused. He ran right into a bed sheet Mrs. Garrett had left hanging on the clothesline.
Then Mrs. Garrett mistook him for a prowler and clubbed him with a stick of stove wood.
It was that bed sheet with Dillweed and his lantern inside that the boys thought was the Christmas Ghost with its eerie glow.
The boys looked at each other and smiled in disbelief.
“Mudcat” piped up: “Dat dost was Dillbeed duh whole tibe!”
“You said it!” Dillweed added.
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