The Kicking Tree

by Trevor Stubbs

  “Maik Musula! What are you doing here?”

  “I’m in town doing a bit of shopping. Nothing special. Hey, I like your top.”

  “I have an appointment,” announced Jalli. “At ten o’clock. I must go!” But Maik had not changed. Now he had met her he was not going to go away very easily.

  “What happened last week? You kind of just vanished. I mean, literally. You walked through a wall. I checked on the other side and you weren’t there. One time you were there and the next, ‘pop’ you had gone!”

  “Really! Are you sure it wasn’t something to do with you freaking out on me?”

  “What do you mean ‘freaking out’?”

  “Look. Every time I have seen you, I have told you, as politely as possible, that you are not the guy for me. Are you stalking me?”

  “Stalking you? What do you mean?”

  “I mean following me. Laying in wait for me. Or whatever it is that you do. Now, I am late for an appointment, and you are going to make yourself scarce.” Jalli was quite cross, and really fed up with him. Politeness was not working so, she judged, an aggressive dismissal was the only option. She tried to push past him, but he again barred her way. Jalli was an accomplished ball player. Without warning she suddenly put her weight on her other foot and sidestepped him, passing him on the inside. If it hadn’t been for her bag, she would have been away and through the crowd and he would never have caught her. But Maik instinctively grabbed at her as she passed and just managed to grab the strap of the canvas bag. Caught off balance, she twisted round and pitched into a hairdresser’s salon window. She was lucky it didn’t break she hit it so hard.

  The people in the hairdresser’s all looked up alarmed. What were these people playing at? But an elderly couple who had been passing as it happened saw everything. Jalli was shouting. “Let go! Just let… go!” She was tugging at her bag as he held tenaciously onto the strap.

  What happened next took only a few seconds. The elderly gentleman spoke up, “The lady says to let her go!” Maik Musula was too intently set on holding on to Jalli to hear anything. “Let her go young man!” the man ordered. And then he brought his walking stick smartly down on Masula’s wrist causing him to release the bag and Jalli to step backwards away from him. Musula yelped, clutched his wrist and turned towards his assailant.

  Whether or not he would have gone for the elderly gentleman no-one would ever know because, standing behind him, the elderly lady had hooked her stick handle around Musula’s ankle and pulled. He was still off balance and fell his full length on the pavement. She stood over him, stick at the ready. “If the lady says let go, you let go!” she barked.

  The hairdresser had got onto the police within seconds of the crash against her window. A crowd gathered, and Maik was dragged to his feet. He struggled to get away but was held tightly with his arms pinned to his side by a big strong fellow who had also joined in. Maik was shouting and really “freaking out”.

  Two police officers arrived.

  “OK. Someone tell me what’s happening here!” one commanded. The elderly couple explained what they had seen.

  “Are you hurt?” a woman police officer asked Jalli.

  “N… no. I’m… I’m OK,” she stammered.

  Two police cars arrived and Maik Musula was bundled into one and driven away. The police woman shepherded Jalli into the front passenger seat of the other and noticed the wince as she sat.

  “Are you sure you’re OK?”

  “Yes. I hit the window rather hard and my hip’s sore that’s all.”

  “OK. Tell me what happened.”

  Jalli told her the whole story. She told her this was the third time Maik Musula had accosted her, that she suspected him of stalking her. He had never actually hurt her, but he could not take no for an answer. He had freaked out last time when she had remarked that he was making a fool of himself. This time he had grabbed at her as she tried to leave.

  “Fine. I need you to make a statement. I think we have had trouble with him before. My colleague and I will drive you to the station.”

  “But I had an appointment!” responded Jalli. “At ten o’clock.”

  “Well you’ve missed it now. It’s twenty past already. Just hop into the back. We won’t keep you long.” What could Jalli do? She couldn’t really ignore the police. Would Jack still be there when she had finished? In fact he might already have gone. He might have concluded that she didn’t really want to see him again. “Oh God,” she prayed, “give him patience, please!”

  “What did you say?” asked the policewoman getting out of the car.

  “Oh. Nothing. Just praying.” The policeman shrugged and indicated the back seat. Jalli opened the car door and stepped out. As she put her weight onto her left leg a pain shot up it. It didn’t take an expert to read Jalli’s features this time.

  “We’ll get you to the hospital and get that X-rayed!” declared the policewoman. By now Jalli had decided the best thing was to go with the flow. She probably ought to get it checked out. That Maik Musula was an absolute liability. His stupidity had denied her the opportunity of meeting again someone really special. And it had landed him in a big mess, and if the police thought charges were appropriate she was going to have to put up with him for some time to come. She would probably have to go to court.

  As she lowered herself into the back seat, the elderly couple came up to her. “Are you alright?” asked the lady.

  “Yes. Thank you. I shall be alright. Thank you both for coming to my aid.”

  “Always ready to help a maiden in distress,” smiled the gentleman.

  Of course, the statement took much longer than the police officer had said, and the wait in the hospital had been quite long. It was half past one before Jalli emerged from the examination room. “Just bruised,” the doctor had pronounced. She would find walking painful for a few days. Not to worry if it felt worse when she got up the next morning but the trick was to keep it moving. She wouldn’t do it any harm. Nothing was broken.

  Jalli assessed her options. Should she go home or on to the garden? It was probably too late to meet Jack now. He would have given up on her a long time ago. She limped off to the bus-stop.

  *

  Jack had arrived in the garden, as he had planned, at a quarter to ten. He knew the gate would be there, he would have been shocked if it hadn’t been. He glanced around. Jalli hadn’t arrived yet so he quickly slipped off his jeans and T-shirt and put on his new ones. He hoped he looked smart. He sat on the bench and waited, drinking in the clear air. Somehow the garden and the smiling house were not enough in themselves though.

  The lustre had paled without Jalli. The bird-song and the blossom were just as sweet, but without Jalli there was a shadow. He missed her sunny laughter. Ten o’clock came and went. No Jalli. 10.30 and still no Jalli. Jack resolved to explore the greenhouse to pass the time. “I wonder if she is locked out of the garden?” he considered. The greenhouse was empty apart from a few tools. He returned to the front of the house. Jalli’s gate was not there. Perhaps whoever it was did not want her in the garden and house anymore. But he had been far more impertinent than she had. He had been the one to pry whilst she had initially taken her shoes off and tiptoed across the lawn. If anyone should be excluded it should have been him. He contemplated what to do. Should he leave and come back later? Or should he stay a little bit longer? He loved this place but it was not the same without Jalli. She belonged here, he was convinced of that. “God, or whoever you are in charge of this place,” he heard himself saying out loud, “tell me what’s happening. What should I do?”

  All of a sudden he felt a peace come upon him. “It’s OK. Just wait. Be patient,” it seemed to say. “Wow! Was this a kind of ‘answer?’” He turned to the house. “You’re talking to me, aren’t you?” And somehow, in a way he couldn’t explain, he felt it was. Jalli was late. If she was this late something must have happened, because he was sure, he was really sure now, that she was on her way. “I hope
she’s OK,” he thought, and then he added out loud, “You will make sure she’s OK.” He knew then she was loved and so was he. “Thanks,” he muttered.

  Half past twelve and Jalli still hadn’t come. He had spent the time wandering about or stretched out on the lawn reflecting on his new found capacity to talk to gardens and houses and whoever it was who provided them, but whoever it was he never showed himself. He felt hungry and hunted for his packed lunch. He had thought he wouldn’t reveal this in front of Jalli because it was not “cool”, but since she was not here he was grateful for more than a banana and a can of coke. He put them on his lap and thought, “I bet Jalli turns up right now and catches me eating Mum’s tuna paste sandwiches!” So he ate the most embarrassing things first leaving the banana and biscuits till last. He was careful to put every single bit of litter back into his bag. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered. He had a habit of drop-kicking the empty can to see how high and far he could get it! That behaviour here was quite inappropriate! He thought even Persham could be nice if people looked after their gardens like this one. He wondered if the greenhouse was still there in the front garden down the road.

  Jack resolved to stay till half-past-two. After that time he would leave a note on the bench. He had seen a pad and pencil on a table just behind the front door of the cottage. “Funny,” he thought. He just did not feel the faintest urge to go inside without Jalli. It would feel empty without her. He glanced at his watch. Half past one. Just one hour to go and then he would leave that note.

  He was just wondering what he would say in the note when Jalli emerged from the hedge.

  “Jalli!” He was across the lawn in two bounds. “Jalli! I had almost given up on you!”

  Immediately he knew something was wrong. There was pain in her face, and a tiny tear in the corner of one of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  The next thing he knew she was in his arms and her tears were flowing freely. He could feel the wetness through his shirt as she sobbed and clung to him. He just held onto her as long as it took for the pain to flow from her and she became calm.

  “I… I almost didn’t come,” she stammered. “I thought you would have gone by now. The bus home from the hospital passed the Municipal Gardens and I saw the white gate in the wall and got off at the next stop and came back. You waited!”

  “I wasn’t going to, but somehow the place just told me to be patient and keep waiting. I guessed something had happened to you.”

  “See!” exclaimed Jalli, “Praying does work! I was praying for you to be patient and… and you were.”

  “OK. Come over to the bench and tell me all about it.” She began to move and winced.

  “It’s OK,” she said, “I’ve just bruised my hip. The hospital checked it out. It’s not broken.”

  She winced again on the second step. Then Jack just put one strong arm behind her knees, another around her back, and carried her over to the bench and gently sat her down.

  “Thank you, kind sir! My, you are strong!”

  “Now. Tell me what happened.”

  She began to tell the tale beginning with Maik Musula who would now definitely not be bothering her any more unless he was really stupid. Well, he might even be in prison after today. She got to the bit when she had realised that whatever she did she had probably missed Jack and prayed that he might be patient.

  “I talked to the cottage too. It kind of told me that you were loved.”

  “Thank you, cot-tage,” smiled Jalli. “I’m hungry. Really hungry now. You and this place have made me feel so much better. I’ve got some lunch in my bag,” she explained, “if it isn’t too shaken up.” She then remembered how it was packed in its special box, a box that shouted, “Lovingly prepared by Grandma!” Oh well. Nothing for it. She was now feeling ravenous!

  “It’s my grandma’s special,” she revealed. “I wasn’t going to eat it if you were looking.” Jalli’s sparkle was returning. “But needs must!” She set about eating and got almost three quarters through it. “But what about you? I forgot about you.” Jack smiled and pulled out the wrappings of his lunch stuffed into its bag. “My mum does the same! I had mine an hour ago when I got bored waiting.” They were laughing now.

  “I tell you what,” said Jalli, “next time we’ll swap.”

  “But you haven’t seen what my mum produces!… I do like the look of yours though!”

  Jalli then popped the last piece of Grandma’s Wanulka pie into Jack’s mouth.

  “Grandma’s cooking!”

  “Wow!” he exclaimed. “I like your grandma!”

  The next few hours were spent on the bench or hobbling round the garden together.

  Jalli needed to keep moving. This time it didn’t occur to them to go into the house. They told each other all about themselves. What they were doing, their interests, their whole story. Much time was spent in listening to Jalli talk about the earthquake that took her family, and Jack spoke freely about his father for the first time ever.

  “I’ve never told anyone about him before. I even vowed to pretend he did not exist. But he’s out there, somewhere. You are a great listener.”

  “And you too. I want to tell you everything. If I’m not boring you.”

  “Boring me! Jalli Rarga, you could never bore me!”

  “I like it when you call me that. That’s what I call myself sometimes, when I’m telling myself off!”

  “Then I shan’t say it because I don’t want to tell you off!”

  “Oh. But it’s different when you say it, Jack Smitt!”

  They made a date for the following Friday because the next day, Sunday, Jalli was expected at the worship centre, and the following week was the final week of the school year – Jalli’s last – and it would be packed with all the things she needed to attend.

  “Let’s make it earlier. Say nine o’clock and it will be less busy getting here. And we’ll have more time.”

  “That’s fine by me,” declared Jack. “And I’ll bring my tent and camp here until you arrive!”

  “Don’t you tease me!” she cuffed him playfully. And then kissed his cheek. “Your turn to leave first this time!” Her hip was stiffening up and she didn’t want to hobble off stage, so to speak. Jack stood up.

  “OK. You sit there demurely, looking all lovely, and I will just slip through the hedge,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek too, and carefully tiptoed in an exaggerated fashion across to his white gate. “Bye!” he waved and leaped through the gate! Whoops! He nearly knocked a boy off his bike charging down the pavement into Persham. The boy didn’t look up. “Where’s your helmet?” he yelled after him. He was getting a bit like those annoying grown-ups he decided!

  Jalli put her hand on her mouth remembering how automatically she had kissed his cheek. What a day it had been. She hobbled across to her gate. The bus-stop was a good hundred metres from the white gate! Still, she would get there. Got to keep it moving. Whatever would Grandma say!

  *

  Jalli did not make it to the worship centre the next day. The hip was very sore and the bruise was “coming out” as Jack’s mum would have put it. In the afternoon one of the congregation came round with a huge bunch of flowers. It was a combination of contributions from different people’s gardens. “Jalli Rarga,” she told herself, “you are loved aren’t you!” And her mind drifted to Maik Musula. What must he be feeling? In trying to make things happen when he shouldn’t, he had lost everything. His impatience was the very opposite of the way her Jack had waited. “My Jack? Why not? My Jack!” she whispered to herself.

  7

  The next week seemed the longest in Jack’s life. He had begun it researching all the possibilities of helping children with disabilities. The prospectuses suggested some relevant experience would be useful before starting an education degree or something, so it seemed to be a good idea to have a year before going on. He had asked one of the special schools in the area and they were interested in volunteers in the autumn. But he would have to
get a job to earn money. He had been to the DIY place again but it was too late for the summer. They told him to come back in September after the school term had started. OK. That would be fine. He could do voluntary work in the mornings and work the late shift there. He would also be available for Saturdays and Sundays.

  The thought of work brought him down to earth. He started to wonder how he was ever going to have time to visit Jalli and the garden. He had found the most wonderful thing – beyond his dreams – and then life seemed to be telling him he couldn’t have it. After three days he was almost more cynical and cross than he had been before the exam results, the white gate and Jalli. If there was a God why was he being taunted like this? It was a classic trick of the bully to wave a lolly in front of a kid, pretend to give it to him and then snatch it back with a mocking laugh.

  The days dragged. He couldn’t go to the library every day. Only sad people did that. His mother wasn’t happy about him not getting a job straight away. It wasn’t about the money, she said, but that without something to do Jack was going to become unbearable. So she nagged him – and that made it worse. But Jack didn’t want a job – well not straight away. After the weekend Jalli would be on holiday and then he could see her every day.

  He and his mother never went away on holiday. Fed up with being got at, Jack stormed out the front door. “OK, OK! I’m going. I’ll try to find something!” He slammed the door on his mother’s reply. He didn’t want to hear any more. Instinctively, he went straight to the tree – and then stopped. If Jalli could see him now she wouldn’t like him any more. She would not like a boy who took out his anger on a bush. He didn’t like what he saw. In that kicking tree was reflected the bitterness of his life – and he did not want Jalli, sweet pure Jalli, to see that. So now he could not take it out on the tree, on life, without feeling guilt and shame. Things had got complicated! And, perhaps for the first time, he began to see himself as his mother saw him – and he didn’t like it. OK, so his mother was horrible at times but, he had to admit, life sucked for her too – really sucked. If he felt trapped, how might she feel?