A Climate Change Christmas Carol from New Society Publishers (with sincere apologies to Charles Dickens).
It was the evening before the last day of the Copenhagen United Nations Conference on Climate Change. Prime Minister Ebenezer Harper was just getting ready for bed in his luxury hotel room.
"Ah," he sighed to himself. "I do believe we have been successful. It will be impossible for a binding climate change agreement to be reached, just as long as I can hold out one more day." His reverie was interrupted by a tap on the door announcing the arrival of his nightly hot toddy. Stretching, Prime Minister Harper opened the door, accepted the hot drink gratefully and tipped the waiter. And yet, the young man lingered.
"Is there something else?" Ebenezer asked.
"Prime Minister, I know it is not my place, but we had really hoped that Canada would have had a change of heart. Isn’t there anything that will…"
Ebenezer’s face grew red with rage, "You dare to presume to counsel me! You preposterous little twit! What does a hotel waiter know about climate change?"
"But please sir, think of the children sir!"
With a roar of outrage, Ebenezer pushed the man out of the way and slammed the door.
"Think of the children sir," he sneered. "Thanks to me protecting the tar sands, every child in Canada is going to have heating oil for their furnaces and enough gas for every family to drive a Hummer." Continuing to fume, he finished his drink and got ready for bed. As he settled his head on the pillow he thought, "I can’t wait for this conference to be over so I can get back to the work that really matters. It’s nearly time to get that budget out. Now what was that happy thought I was using to get to sleep? Oh yes, the new federal tax on Alberta." And with a smile on his face, Ebenezer drifted off to sleep.
Within minutes, it seemed, Ebenezer was awoken by a tap on his door. "It had better not be that waiter again," he thought. But when he opened the door, a jolly young woman dressed in a woolen coat, hat, mitts and a scarf greeted him with a hug.
"Ebenezer," she chimed. "How very lovely to see you. Come on, they won’t wait long." And with that, she grasped Ebenezer’s hand and he found himself transported through the night sky. Although he was wearing only his stripy pajamas, he felt no cold.
"Who are you? Where are you taking me? I must be dreaming."
The young woman just beamed at him and said, "I am the ghost of climate change past. We are going to your childhood home."
No sooner had she spoken, then Ebenezer saw a beautiful park appear before him, and he heard the happy sounds of children skating on a pond in the distance. "Why – it’s High Park! We used to skate here every Saturday as children. I was such a fast skater; I even thought one day I might play for the Toronto Maple Leafs!" Ebenezer grinned at the memory. "That would be a great idea for a publicity stunt, Phil Kessel and me together on the ice…. It’s really too bad that pond never freezes these days."
With a rush of wind, the spirit and the prime minister returned to his hotel room. The spirit spoke, "These memories you have seen from the past are happy. You will be visited twice more tonight by two other spirits – the ghost of climate change present and the ghost of climate change future. The messages they bring will not be as pleasant as mine." And with this, she vanished.
"Bah, humbug," said Ebenezer. "My feet always froze skating anyway. Warmer weather is going to be better for us all!"
He had scarcely hopped back into bed when his door opened, revealing a man in a tailored suit standing in the entrance way. "Come this way please, Prime Minister. There is no time to waste. I am the ghost of climate change present," he said, steering Ebenezer down the hall to the hotel board room.
"I can’t go in there…" protested Ebenezer, gesturing to his pajamas, but the spirit paid no heed.
Inside the conference room were a group of young people. They were huddled around the table in fierce concentration. "There must still be something we can do." said a young woman.
"Why," said Ebenezer, "That’s the leader of the youth delegation from Canada. She shows potential that young woman. I expect she will be joining the Young Conservatives very soon. I would quite like to spend a bit of time mentoring her if only I wasn’t so busy." The spirit moved closer. "What’s that she’s saying?" said Ebenezer. "I hear my name."
"I know we are bitterly disappointed by Prime Minister Harper’s position and I have to admit I was quite naïve myself, thinking that we could influence him. I’m afraid it is a lost cause. The best we can hope for now is to oust him in the next election. I really used to look up to him but I can’t believe how he has acted here at the conference."
Ebenezer blushed in embarrassment and glanced at the spirit to see if he had heard.
"Yes, Ebenezer. I am afraid your credibility with most of your supporters is evaporating due to your performance here." The spirit took Ebenezer’s hand and the scene changed.
A woman dressed in colourful traditional clothes was sobbing pitifully. "Spirit, why is she crying so?" asked Ebenezer.
"Don’t you recognize the delegate from Bangladesh? Because of the lack agreement here at the Climate Conference, her country is doomed to catastrophic floods, landslides, starvation due to crop failure, and the prospect of 25 million climate refugees as sea levels rise. Ebenezer, you could have made the decision to contribute funds to help Bangladesh prepare, but you have chosen not to."
Ebenezer found himself again back in bed. "Climate refugees in Bangladesh. What can that possibly have to do with me? I wonder when the next spirit will come. The first spirit said that the messages will be less pleasurable. The last thing I need is to hear more sniveling about rising sea levels."
Suddenly, a cold chill fell over the room and the door blew open with a resounding bang. A shadowy spirit stood in the doorway.
"Are, are you the ghost of climate change future?" The spectre nodded. "And you’re here to show me the climate skeptics are right, aren’t you? There is nothing wrong with the future. Canada is prospering economically and we’re leading the world in petrochemical technology." The spectre shook its head. "Why won’t you speak spirit? Please, tell me that the future is as I have said!"
The spectre reached out its bony hand and drew Ebenezer Harper into the night sky. This time, the trip was not like the others. The winds blew with hurricane force, tornadoes swirled around them, lightning flashed and snow drove into their faces. The spirit set Ebenezer down on seashore next to a city.
"Where are we spirit? I can scarcely see in this weather. This looks like Halifax but the buildings are being washed away by massive waves. Look at those people running! Where are the rescue crews? This is a national disaster! Why isn’t the army here? This is disgraceful, the city is in ruins! Spi
rit, people are dying, we have to do something!" But even as Ebenezer reached his hand to pull a child from the water, the spirit whisked him away.
Another scene opened before them. It was the office building for the Federal Ministry of Environment. The spirit led Ebenezer by the hand to a basement office with no windows. Looking in, Ebenezer saw a wizened old man, typing away at a computer at tiny desk. As the man turned to his head towards them, Ebenezer saw his own face, broken and defeated. "But, how can this be? Me – a lowly clerk in the Department of Environment? If I am down here, then who is running the country?"
Again the scene changed. The gilded arches and polished wooden seats of the House of Commons appeared before them. With a familiarity born of long acquaintance, Elizabeth May was settling herself into the prime minister’s chair.
"No!" Ebenezer howled. He fell to the ground, clasping the spirit around the knees. "No! Spirit, please! Tell me it’s not too late; tell me I can undo what I have done!" But the spirit said nothing and Ebenezer awoke in his bed, clasping a pillow.
"What’s the time, what’s the time?" He rushed to the window and threw it open (you can do that in luxury hotels in Copenhagen). "You there, boy! Boy! Do you know what day it is?"
"Why yes, sir." the boy replied. "It’s December 18th, the last day of the Copenhagen conference."
"What a clever boy! Remarkable boy! A Merry Copenhagen to you my son!" Ebenezer cried in joy. "Then it’s not too late! The spirits have done it all in one night!" He rushed back into his room and started pulling on his clothes. "It’s not too late. There is still time. I must tell Barack! And Dmitry and Abdullah!"
He raced out the door and down the street, giggling and singing as he went. Reaching the door of the UN Conference on Climate Change he burst through it. Peace and planetary goodwill shone from every pore as he shouted out, "Wait, wait! I will sign. I will sign!"
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New Society Publishers is delighted to share with you this original version of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, written by Marketing Co-ordinator extraordinaire – the one and only EJ Hurst.
