The Advent Calendar (14 page)

‘What’s it made of?’ Sam said, sniffing his arm.

‘Camel skin.’ smiled JB and strode off in front of them, swinging his great axe over his shoulder. ‘Come on.’

Alice had to jog to keep up with his great strides. ‘Where are we going?’

‘About a mile this way,’ he called. ‘Hungry?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘We haven’t eaten tea yet.’

‘Not got much,’ said JB, fishing inside his coat. ‘You can try one of these if you like.’

‘Yeeeuch,’ said Alice. ‘It’s a dead insect.’

‘Locust,’ said JB. ‘Full of protein. Bit crusty on the outside. You can keep going for days on those if you have to.’

‘Got anything else in there?’ said Sam, hopefully.

‘This might be better.’ JB handed them each a piece of honeycomb, running with goodness. ‘Scrape off the wax and lick out the honey,’ he said, crunching another locust.

It was a bit tricky till you got the hang of it but the honey was one of the best things Alice had ever tasted, even if it did run down your chin and inside your clothes.

The forest floor began to rise steeply now. They stopped at a stream to drink and washed their sticky hands and faces.

‘Nearly there now,’ said JB.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Just to the top of this rise.’ He pointed ahead. ‘See that large tree sticking through the top of the forest?’

‘What about it?’ asked Sam.

‘It’s got too big for itself. It’s diseased. Needs to be cut down.’ He patted his axe.

They walked on, all the time keeping up with JB’s great strides. A bit further on and the forest floor changed. The grass, shrubs and trees were becoming smaller and weaker – then they stopped all at once at the edge of a great dark clearing.

‘See?’ said JB pointing at the ground. ‘Nothing can grow. The poison is spreading through the forest. It comes from the heart of the tree.’

He walked on through the clearing towards the tall tree rising above them, its canopy casting a shadow over the whole of the surrounding area. It was even colder here. No birds sang. The ground beneath them felt unclean somehow. It was less solid and gave way when Sam stepped on it. Foul-smelling steam rose up from cracks in the ground.

‘Watch where you step now.’

They walked together to the centre of the clearing. The closer they came to the tree’s heart, the more the sense of evil in the air thickened. As they drew near, Alice could see cracks in the side of the huge trunk. The branches twisted upwards as if in pain.

JB paused a metre from the trunk. ‘See now,’ he called to the great tree. ‘The time has come. You are poisoning the forest with your arrogance and pride. No more.’

The leaves above swirled and rustled. The branches creaked dangerously.

‘It’s time,’ said JB. ‘Stand clear, Sam and Alice.’

He shook off his massive coat, bared his arms and took up the axe. First he walked to the other side of the tree. Alice saw that the trunk there was more solid. With five heavy blows he cut a V shape into the tree across its whole width.

‘Hold steady now,’ he said as he came round to their side of the tree again. ‘Hold steady.’

He raised the axe again and this time aimed a mammoth blow at an angle down towards the tree’s base at knee level. The canopy above them shook with the force of it. Alice tugged Sam’s sleeve and pointed. The axe had sunk half a metre at least into the rotten bark of the tree. The second blow came hard after the first, then the third and fourth. In moments, as it seemed, the axe had torn through the wood. JB’s enormous arms were beaded with sweat and the muscles stood out on his neck and forehead.

He wiped his brow, set down his axe and braced himself against the trunk of the tree, legs bent. With a deep breath he pushed, straightening both legs, putting all his strength into this final effort. There was a dreadful cracking and splintering sound. The trunk split and gave way. The whole rotten lot came crashing down away from Sam and Alice. As it fell and touched the earth, the tree crumbled to dust.

There was silence.

The sunlight streamed back into the glade. The cracks in the earth slowly began to be sealed.

Alice spoke softly, ‘Was it always bad?’

‘No, child,’ said the deep, bass voice. Now JB was trimming the wide stump of the tree, chopping off every branch and twig. ‘Look at the rings.

‘Neither of you can read the story in the rings of the tree. If you could, you would see a long history, a tree of beauty and goodness which loved the light and gave life to the forest. But you might also see a seed of corruption sown in its heart: a seed of pride which took root and grew within the great tree, growing stronger and stronger until every last part was twisted and blind. There was no choice but to bring things to an end.’

‘What will happen now?’ said Sam.

‘We have cut out the corruption,’ JB said. ‘Watch.’

He put his coat back on now and the axe was safely stowed away in its folds. He offered Alice and Sam another honeycomb but neither was hungry. They sat and waited together, watching the stump of the tree.

At first, nothing. As they sat and watched, time around them began to move faster and faster. Day gave way to night. Time accelerated. The seasons changed. The grass grew back around the glade. The forest changed around them. The stump became blackened with age. Still there was no life. Hundreds of years, it seemed, went by in a matter of minutes.

But then, as she grew stiff and tired of waiting and time slowed down again to something like its normal pace Alice saw what was happening. Right at the edge of the tree’s stump, something new was growing: just a shoot, nothing more.

‘Here it is,’ said JB, excitement in his voice as the rapid flow of time ceased. ‘Here it is. Look and see. There has been terrible judgement and destruction – but the life is still here, the promise of the future.’

They walked back along the path they had come. Alice looked back as they reached the edge of the glade. The shoot was still visible – a slender sapling growing from the root of the great tree it had replaced.

JB led them swiftly and surely back through the forest until they reached the rectangle of mist hanging the air. ‘Through you go,’ he said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

First Alice, then Sam stepped through the mirror and back into the front room. There in the open door of the calendar was the stump of a tree, blackened with age. Growing from one side of the stump, now in its first leaf, was the new shoot, the promise of the future where all had been destroyed.

14 December

Alice woke early the next morning, her mind full of the image of the great tree, rotten to the core and falling to the ground. What was it, she thought, that caused people to go bad? Where did the badness come from? How did it grow so that it took over your whole life?

After washing and dressing, Alice went downstairs and straight into the front room to look again at the calendar and the new gift of the mirror. As she walked through the door, she had the most unpleasant surprise. The surface of the mirror was clear now, not misty, so she could see her own reflection. Smeared across her face and down her neck was a dirty brown streak.

‘Where did that come from?’ she said aloud. Carefully she pulled her shirt open at the top and looked at her reflection. Sure enough the streak ran down onto her shoulder. She licked her fingers and rubbed at the dirt on her cheek. It made no difference.

‘Morning, darling,’ said Megs. ‘Hey! Nice mirror – where did that come from?’

‘Same place as the calendar, Mum. We put it up last night.’ Alice turned away from the mirror, expecting Megs to leap back in horror and reach for a flannel. Instead, Megs gave her a kiss on the forehead and went into the kitchen, humming.

‘Very strange,’ thought Alice. She checked back in the mirror. The dirt was still there. She ran upstairs to the bathroom and looked in the mirror there. Her face was as clean as when she washed it ten minutes ago. She filled the sink and went through the whole process again, scrubbing really hard. Then she came down again to the front room. The streak of dirt was back in place.

‘Time to go,’ Megs called, still humming.

‘You know I’m going out tonight, darling? Andrew’s going to call round at seven to take me to this dinner of his. You’ll be OK with Sam?’

Alice felt a bit weird. It was a strange feeling, having a dirty face, even if no one else could see it. ‘Guess so,’ she said. ‘Won’t be a regular thing, will it – with Mr Watkins?’

‘Doubt it, darling,’ Megs said, with a sigh. ‘But it will be nice to go out for an evening.’

When Alice got to the playground, Alex had a large lump of green plasticine in his pocket. ‘We may need some more time,’ he said. ‘I tested this last night on the garden hose. It held for three seconds after I turned on the tap. Even that was two seconds better than the blutac. We need something more powerful.’

‘What about a cork?’ said Suzie. ‘If we hammer it in just right that should give us some time. My dad bought a bottle of champagne at the weekend. Those corks have wires round them.’

‘Genius,’ said Alex. ‘We trim it down and hammer it in at lunchtime, hold it in place with one of those wires, then whip the wire off just before the lesson. I’ll measure the hose today and make it over the weekend. You with us, Alice?’

Alice nodded, rubbing her cheek and wondering if anyone could see the brown streak. Her hesitations about the plan grew stronger in assembly. There were severe and ominous warnings from the Deputy Heads about pranks in the last few days of term and especially damage to school property: ‘Anyone caught will be severely punished, etc. etc.’

But then came double biology after lunch. The class was on its best behaviour. Rumours had gone round about Alex’s plan and everybody approved. Some people were even expecting it today. The whole idea was to lull the Newtron into a false sense of security.

But Miss Newton was in the foulest of black moods and looking for trouble. Her right eye was fixed on the book in front of her as she droned through the dullest of lessons. Her left eye moved independently across the classroom looking for the slightest misdemeanour.

‘Take down this definition and learn it by heart – sit up straight, Carter. Hormones are chemicals released directly into the blood. Julie Bates, stop picking your nails and pay attention. They are chemical messengers which travel – Williams, put that ruler down – which travel in the blood to activate target cells. They are vital for the functioning of the pancreas – put your hand down, Thompson, not now – and the reproductive system.’

Several of the boys at the front of the class giggled whenever the Newtron mentioned the reproductive system. It was enough to light the blue touchpaper.

‘Anthony Papodopolos, come out to the front NOW!’

Anthony was a quiet, shy boy who never said boo to a budgie let alone a goose. No other teacher had ever singled him out for attention. The whole class went silent.

Anthony stood up, cheeks burning and lip quivering and made his way out to the front of the class. Every eye was on him. They knew what was coming.

‘Anthony Papodopolos, what exactly is it you find amusing?’

Anthony’s lips moved but no sound came out.

‘Speak up, boy!’ It seemed to Alice that the windows shook at the sound.

‘Please miss, nothing miss,’ he squeaked. The first tear rolled down his cheeks.

Alex and Suzie desperately tried to create a diversion to draw the fire. Suzie had a coughing fit. Alex stuck up his hand: ‘Please miss, I need the toilet and I need it now.’

‘Shut up. Detention, both of you. Now you, boy. There is nothing funny about the human reproductive system.’

Despite the seriousness of the situation a soft titter ran round the room.

‘Over the weekend you will draw me a labelled diagram of the human reproductive system and bring it to me on Monday morning signed by your parents. Is that clear?’

Anthony looked at the floor, tears rolling down his face. ‘’Ss, Miss.’

Alice, Suzie and Alex exchanged looks. This time the Newtron had gone too far. Fire Hose Plan G had just moved to execution stage.

**********

Sam and Tizzy went for a quiet drink after work, away from the usual crowd. It had been another tense day at the office. This time someone else was Richard’s victim.

‘It’s just horrible,’ said Tizzy for the ninth time as she set the drinks down. ‘Why do people put up with bullies?’

‘Happens everywhere,’ said Sam. ‘School, work, even families sometime. Alice’s dad, Nick, bullied my sister for years.’

‘You’ve never said. Did he hit her?’

‘I don’t think it ever came to that. I didn’t think that much about it while they were together. He’s just so forceful all the time. Undermined her confidence. He rang up yesterday and wanted to take Alice abroad for Christmas.’

‘Will she go?’

‘Doubt it – Megs looked pretty determined. Her confidence is coming back a bit now but every time that toerag rings up she kind of wobbles. How’s things with that boyfriend of yours, anyway? You haven’t mentioned him for ages.’

Tizzy went quiet. ‘Not great, actually. Wants things his own way all the time. Never listens.’

‘He is a man, Tizzy.’

‘More than just the usual.’ She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘We had that bust-up last week after the weekend with my parents. I think he might be seeing someone else. He’s away on his own this weekend.’

‘Tough cookie,’ Sam said, surprising himself. Normally he didn’t do sympathy at all.

‘Thanks,’ said Tizzy, knocking back her drink. ‘Sam – you don’t fancy – you know – going out somewhere, do you? Just for a laugh. Make a night of it.’

Sam was about to say yes without thinking when his phone rang. It was Alice.

‘Sam? Just checking you’re on your way. It’s Mum’s big night. You were going to be home early, remember?’

‘Jumping jellyfish, I forgot. I can just make it by seven if I dash. Just having a drink with a friend.’

‘Idiot. Any text messages?’

‘Nothing.’ He hung up. ‘Look, sorry, Tiz. Got to go. Megs has this date and I promised to be there for Alice. Nothing personal. Family. You know.’

‘No big deal,’ said Tizzy, standing up and giving him a hug. ‘See you at the party on Monday.’

Sam legged it to the station and just made the train after his normal time. Even so, Megs was pacing up and down when he arrived home, all ready for Andrew.

‘You look gorgeous, sis. Doesn’t she, Alice?’

‘I’ve already told her that umpteen times. I just don’t see why she has to go out with a teacher from my school.’

‘What’s that on my face?’ said Sam, looking over Megs’ shoulder into the new mirror. He rubbed his forehead.

‘Don’t let Alice stay up past ten,’ said Megs. ‘And Sam, Mum rang. Dad’s not been too good this week. Really run down. I told them to call a doctor.’

Sam was still staring at his reflection and scratching his chin.

Megs turned round. ‘Looks fine to me,’ she said. ‘You’re just trying to take my mind off things.’

The doorbell rang. Andrew Watkins swept in, said ‘Hi’ to Sam and Alice, looked stunned by Megs and swept out again in a matter of seconds. Alice waved goodbye from the window. Sam stood in front of the mirror rubbing his face.

‘You too?’ said Alice, coming to stand next to him and pointing at her cheek.

‘You look fine to me,’ said Sam, looking at her reflection.

‘So do you,’ said Alice. ‘And I look fine in the bathroom mirror and the mirrors at school. But when I look in this mirror, there is a great brown streak all down my cheek and right down onto my shoulder. Nothing I can do gets it off.’

‘Message’ sang Sam’s phone.

‘Sam!’ said Alice. ‘You’ve got a new ring tone! Don’t say you’re growing up at last? Is it the code?’

‘Three, eight, colon, one, four,’ Sam read aloud.

‘Perfect timing,’ said Alice as she punched in the numbers. The new door was the same colour as the calendar itself and hard to see at first.

‘What happens now?’ wondered Sam after they had waited a few seconds. Alice peered out of the window to see if JB had arrived with another parcel. She turned back into the room.

‘Sam! Look! The mirror!’

Sam spun round. The face of the mirror was once again cloudy and soft. Alice put out her hand and pressed her fingertips through the surface. They disappeared. It was like pressing them through a very thick layer of oil. She pressed one arm through next, then the other, feeling the empty space on the far side. Only then, like a swimmer putting her face through water, did she press her head through the mirror’s soft surface and out the other side. She saw enough to be aware that she was entering a warm dark room, lit by lines of sparkling lights at floor level. Quickly Alice steadied herself on the frame of the mirror and stepped through, first one leg, then the other. Sam followed her and both of them took in the scene.

They had emerged in the middle of a vast indoor chamber, but they could see neither walls nor ceiling. The sense of a vast space was created by patterns of tiny lights running across the smooth black floor in random patterns like the cracks in very large crazy paving. The chamber was very still. The other sources of light were what looked like large fireflies, thousands of them, dancing, as it seemed, from point to point in the great space.

There was no sign of JB. Alice and Sam looked around to make sure they could find the mirror again and then began to move in the same direction into the chamber. Almost at once, Alice became aware of a low whispering sound coming from many different directions.

As her eyes became more used to the dim light, she began to see the other distinctive feature of the cavernous chamber. Suspended from the ceiling, still out of sight, were thousands and thousands and thousands of tiny black threads. At the end of each thread, at different heights above the floor, was either a speaker or a headphone. Each was at least a metre from any of the others.

The speakers themselves were all different. Some, like the headphones, were different sizes. Some looked as though they had been taken from a car stereo system. Others were larger, like the ones in televisions or hi-fi systems, Sam thought. Some were much smaller: the tiniest earpiece you can imagine. Others were shaped like shells or rusty cans at the end of a string.

The low, rustling sound was coming from these innumerable speakers or headphones which stretched away into the distance in every direction. As Sam and Alice wandered around the chamber and as their ears tuned to the silence, they began to hear snatches of what was being said. From each speaker came a different voice.

Alice stood next to one of the strings she could reach and put the earpiece close to her left ear. The words were in a language she could not understand but she instantly caught the notes of pain and distress in the woman’s voice. Carefully, she let the headphone hang still again and went to another and then another. Each time the voice spoke a different language. It was like turning the dial on a radio tuner and listening to snatches of different programmes except each one was punctuated by sobs and cries.

A little way away, Alice saw Sam doing exactly the same. Then she found a voice speaking English. A woman in a broad Scottish accent, crying and pleading for the life of her child. As Alice listened, she learned that the young girl had cancer and was not expected to live beyond her fifth birthday. The next voice she could understand was that of an old man, crying out with loneliness. The next was a woman with a Yorkshire accent anxious and worried about her son, serving with the army far away in a foreign country. The next a young man in prison on the point of suicide. The next a young child’s prayer for protection for his mother when her boyfriend came home drunk. The next the cry of someone close to death from a hospital ward.