A Dusty Tires Short Story

By Ken Drenten

Part 1

It was a few years after that momentous Christmas when Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge, Esq. had received a visitation from the three spirits – a visit that had changed his life for the better.

These days, when Christmas came around, Scrooge was a right hearty old gent, generous with his time and money, celebrating the season with the best of them, and he was glad to do it. He gave generously to the poor. He went to church on Christmas Eve and sang Christmas carols. He always bought a Christmas turkey for his assistant, Bob Cratchit, and paid him a salary that provided him more than enough money for the care needed for his sickly son, Tiny Tim, who gradually regained his health. 

He became kind – most of the time — to his employees at his London counting house and he gave them an extra day off for the holiday. He purchased with his own money, not the company’s funds, extra candles and firewood for the shop each winter. The staff had even dared to hold a Christmas party this year, which he had not discouraged, although the event had been fairly quiet and short, not anything like the roaring festivities he remembered from his youth.

He made sure he did not overcharge his renters. He had a smile on his face for nearly everyone.

Yes, he had become a decent sort, especially around Christmas time, and he was still a wealthy man who was well respected in London.

But after Christmas came and went for the next few years, he felt low. He felt dangerously close to his old skinflint, miserly, miserable self by the end of each January. Where was this joyous, hopeful, warm-hearted Christmas spirit the rest of the year?

It was almost enough to make him murmur “Bah, humbug!” to himself by the middle of each bitterly cold, lonely winter.

On the evening of January 24 – exactly one month after Christmas Eve — he felt especially low. A mixture of snow and rain was falling on the dirty, foul-smelling streets of the city, and his bedchamber was chilly and damp. He regretfully put an extra log on the fire and it still felt cold as the frigid wind blew outside. He had some trouble getting to sleep that night, but he finally did.

Suddenly he awoke with a start as a bright light shone in his bedroom.

“Oh, no,” he said. “Not again!”

With quivering chin whiskers he parted the drapes over his bed and beheld a man. This was not just any man, but a fine, full figure of a man, clothed only in animal skins.

“W-w-who are you?” quaked Scrooge, holding his blankets around him. “Another spirit, come to haunt me?”

“Not a spirit, Ebenezer Scrooge,” the man said in a booming voice. “I’m a man. You might say I’m THE man.”

“You know my name. Whose name are you called by?”

“My name is Adam.”

“Adam?”

“You heard me right. I’m Adam, the man God created from dust. The first man, Numero Uno, the perfect specimen. I’m the man who had it all.”

“You are the Adam who was written about in the Bible – the Book of Genesis?”

“You are correct, Mr. Scrooge.”

“Then you are a real man – what was written was no fairy tale?”

“I’m here, am I not?”

“And why are you here, my good man?”

“Why, to teach you about Christmas,” replied Adam.

“But Christmas was over almost a month ago.”

Adam threw his full, thick head of hair back and laughed deeply from within his barrel chest that was partially covered by a curly, manly beard. “That’s the lesson you still need to learn. Come with me.”

Suddenly they were in sight of a verdant, colorful garden. Spicy fragrances flavored the air, the skies were clear and blue, and the sun shone warmly. A puff of a warm breeze kissed Scrooge’s wind-chapped cheeks.

He could hear the sounds of water flowing, and he heard all manner of birds chirping, insects humming and animals calling from within the dense green and flowery growth that he beheld. The sounds were so pleasant that the area almost sounded like it was producing tropical music.

Scrooge was astounded. “My goodness, man! What is this wonderful place?”

“This is where I lived when God created me,” Adam said. “Pretty nice, huh?”

It was so nice, warm and pleasant here that Scrooge began to remove his scratchy old robe. “I’ll say it is. Is this Eden?”

“You remember your Sunday School lessons well, Ebenezer. This is none other than the Garden of Eden.”

“Can we take a closer look at it?”

“Hmm. Well, why don’t you give it a try.”

Scrooge approached an ivy-covered garden gate eagerly, but suddenly a very large and muscular soldier with wings emerged from the garden and stood in his path. He was clad in heavy armor that shone brightly. He held a tremendous sword in one brawny fist. The sword spewed orange and red flames.

“None shall pass,” the soldier said in a magnificently intimidating voice.

“But can we just take a look around?” Scrooge asked. “I’ve never visited here before.”

“None shall pass,” he repeated, and looked intently at Scrooge. The look in his eyes awed Scrooge beyond measure.

Now Scrooge shrank back to Adam, who had stood back some distance away.

“My gracious – who was that terrible, glorious fellow?”

“He’s a warrior angel — just one angel in God’s Army. Mighty impressive, eh? I’m glad he’s on our side — I wouldn’t want to mess with him,” Adam said. “And please don’t hold it against him. He’s just doing his job. Blame me. It’s all my fault.”

“Why — what happened?”

Adam took a deep sigh and shook his head. “Well, my wife Eve and I, we lived here. We lived the good life. We had everything we wanted, whenever we wanted. We worked only when we pleased. We swam in fountains of cool, refreshing water. We had free food, a free place to live, no enemies, unlimited time to indulge our every whim. It was sunny, warm and beautiful every day – well, you can see for yourself, the place is truly a paradise. But we disobeyed God by breaking the only rule that He had given us – we ate fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. So we had to leave. Forever.”

“That’s awful,” Scrooge said. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Oh, my good man, it was only fair – more than just punishment,” Adam said sternly. “We had been warned very clearly. We deserved to stop living on the spot. But even then, we didn’t realize the full extent of what we had done, or where we were going – we were leaving this exquisite Garden of Eden to a cold, cruel world of toil, trouble, wickedness and pain. Ah, the days of my innocent, misspent youth!”

“But surely you’re no worse than any other person who has ever lived and made a mistake,” Scrooge said. “Don’t take it so hard.”

Adam shook his head and regarded Scrooge keenly.

“Hah – no worse! How would you like to be responsible for every generation of mankind that has lived after you being forced to live in an orphanage rather than in your wealthy father’s mansion? And they didn’t get to have the same benefits and privileges that I did of living in the mansion to begin with. Or to look at it another way, I was born rich and free, but because of what I did, all of mankind was born into poverty and slavery. How would you feel about that?”

“Hmm. I guess I see your point. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m just trying to put things in perspective for you,” Adam said gruffly. “Let’s go somewhere else.” And he took Scrooge to a place about halfway up a high mountainside.

“I’ll leave you here,” Adam said. “I must get back to where I belong.”

“Where is that?” Scrooge asked.

Adam grinned, and his flawless white teeth shone. “I have a feeling you’ll find out in your own time.”

Next — Part 2: Moses