Ch9-The Three Ghosts

CHAPTER NINE The Three Ghosts "A ghost story?" said Jack. "You mean we'll make ghosts appear?" "Yep," said Annie. "Um… I don't know," said Jack. Ghosts made him nervous.

"I promise this will work," said Annie. "But I don't get it," said Jack. "A ghost story. How can we change Charles with that?" "We won't change him. The ghosts will change him, just like they changed Scrooge," said Annie. "Our job is just to make the right ghosts appear." "But—" started Jack. "It's magic, Jack," said Annie. "We have to trust the magic." "But Charles doesn't even want us around," said Jack. "That's okay," said Annie. "He doesn't have to see us. He can believe it's all happening in his imagination. He has a great imagination, you know. Come on, before he leaves."

Jack sighed. "Okay," he said. "But I hope we don't give him a heart attack." He unbuckled the green velvet bag and pulled out the violin and the bow. Jack rested the bow against the strings of the violin. Then he began moving the bow back and forth. The violin's music was soft at first, but as it grew louder, it seemed to come from every direction. At the bottom of the hill, Charles lifted his head. Annie started singing in a soft, whispery voice: Come, three ghosts, in a dreamlike swirl.

Help our friend give his gifts to the world. The streetlamp flickered and went out. Then a hazy glow surrounded Charles. He stood up and looked around. In the haze, a ghostly figure swirled into shape. Jack's heart pounded as he kept playing. Charles cried out and stumbled back. The ghost looked like both a child and an old man. He had long white hair, but there was not a wrinkle on his face. He wore a white tunic with a silver belt and carried a holly branch in his hand. Annie sang on:

Do not fear him, Charles, stand fast. He's come to share a Christmas Past. The ghost waved his hand, and a scene slowly appeared in the glowing fog: a small, frail boy was lying on a heap of rags. "Who are you? And why do you show me this poor child?" cried Charles. The boy rolled over and sat up. He had big eyes and wavy brown hair. Charles gasped. "Oh, my!" he said. "Is that… is that me?"

The boy reached under the rags and pulled out a book. On the cover was a picture of a flying carpet. The boy opened the book and smiled. "I remember that book! It is me!" cried Charles. "I loved to read The Arabian Nights! I felt as if I could ride on a flying carpet myself! Books gave