The Kicking Tree

by Trevor Stubbs

  “So you have his address. Great.”

  “But you can’t get there tonight. Where’re you two staying?”

  “I thought we might stay in the city, at a budget hotel near the Westmorland Road. We’ll go there when we’ve finished the tea.”

  “Now, no need to do that if you don’t have any objection to staying here? We have a spare room upstairs and if you don’t mind sleeping in here,” she addressed Jack, “you can make yourself comfy on the settee. The bird’ll quieten down when I cover him.” She indicated a bright yellow budgerigar who was competing quite successfully with the television and the conversation. “We don’t see too many people. We’d enjoy having you.”

  Jack looked at Jalli who spoke up with assurance. “That would be very nice. But we would not want to make you work.”

  “No trouble, I’m sure.”

  “In that case we’ll accept with many thanks.”

  “You two eaten?”

  “No. We were going to look for a chip shop.”

  “Then we’ll all have some. Chips tonight Tom?”

  “’Bout time Marge. Chippy would go out’a business if it were to rely on us!”

  “Let us buy for everyone,” insisted Jalli. Marge made vociferous objections but soon realised she wasn’t going to deflect Jalli when she had made up her mind. So Tom was dispatched to the chip shop while Marge talked about Jack’s dad.

  “He was a good man underneath. I can’t say he didn’t have his faults and I’m not surprised his Daphne left him. She had much to put up with at times. When he hadn’t been drinking he was the kindest of men. But after he’d had a few he was a real tyrant. He became so argumentative. Aye, she put up with a lot at times. After she left, he used to come in here regular, and I used to feed him. He were terrible for looking after himself. I did all his washing – he ‘adn’t a clue. The truth was he were sick. He used to say that the drink had him. He wanted to stop, but he just didn’t know how. He drank all his benefit. He finally met this women from Yorkshire. She was a funny sort who wasn’t worth half of him. She kind a moved in. But it did’na last. It came out that, after Daphne left, no rent had been paid at all. Eventually landlord arrived with some official types and he had to leave. They went down to Leeds – to the woman’s daughter. A place called Middleton it was called. Throstle something. Anyways we kept in touch with Christmas cards. He said ours was the only one he got, so we’ve kept it up these past four years. He didn’t say much about his past but I gathered he had a son somewhere. He said he’d had to finish with all that – he wa’n’t wanted. But a son always wants to know ‘bout his father.”

  “I didn’t know I did until recently. I just hated him for not being there.”

  “Well. Now you’re looking. Jalli here changed your mind?”

  “In a way. But it was understanding that I really wanted to know him all along. And now I feel I can begin to look. But it is frightening a bit, looking for someone that’s so… so important.”

  “And so Jalli is ‘holding your hand’.”

  Jack looked at Jalli who had not actually been holding his hand at that moment. “She means you’re giving me the courage and standing beside me on my quest to find him.”

  “I am glad to do that,” said Jalli looking at Jack.

  Something raucous began happening on the TV. Marge lent across and turned it off.

  “‘Ad it on for the scores,” she said, “shouln’a bothered. They lost again.”

  “The Magpies?” said Jalli.

  “Yes. You learn quickly,” replied the old lady warming to this imposing young lady more and more. “You’re a real lady you are. Where do you hail from?”

  “Wanulka. It isn’t in England.”

  “No I guessed that. Bet it’s a cut above this place. Are they all as good as you?”

  “Thank you for the compliment. We have our problem people. Some people are selfish and mean and some people are sick” (her mind turned to Maik Musula). “But lots of people are very kind.” Jalli hadn’t thought of Wanulka as a particularly good place – but, now she thought about it many people were good. “But there are some very good people here in England too,” she continued.

  “Aye, there are. More than people give them credit for.” Marge and Jalli were warming to each other more and more all the time. Tom returned with the fish and chips which they all enjoyed. These were good too. Newcastle had some good people, and good food.

  The spare room was neat and tidy and kept especially for the unexpected guest. Jalli learned that they were the only unexpected guests Tom and Marge had had stay in thirty years! It was as if the room was kept especially for her all that time. Jalli appreciated all this. Jack was amazed. He would never have thought about things like that, but he did his best to be equally attentive and volunteered to wash up the pots. He was instantly turned down and couldn’t argue. He was beginning to realise that the world was full of confident women who ran the domestic affairs. Tom winked at him. “Let ‘em have their way, lad. It’s safer,” he half joked. “I were the foreman at work – not here. Do you want to see out back?” He escorted Jack through a back door and here Tom was in his element. Next to the house was a row of dahlias all carefully staked and the garden was full of vegetables of all kinds in neat rows without a weed to be seen. At the bottom of the garden was a coop with pigeons of every hue. “‘A race ’em sometimes. In the summer. But mostly I just keep ’em and breed ’em,” he explained. “You know your dad were interested in ’em. He said how it was great to see them wheel in the sky in a big flock and watch them all come back one at a time. He thought it was cruel to send them away many miles though just to race ’em back. But I think it is hardest on the owners, ’cause you gets anxious if one is late… Take my advice lad. You’ve got a good girl there. You look after her… and stay away from the beer. It don’t do no-one any good. If you want company join the pigeon fanciers. We’re a great crowd.”

  “Thanks,” said Jack, “I’ll do that. I’ve got an aversion to beer. It might be from when Dad was at home. But I can’t remember.”

  “Well, he did you a favour lad. Good man at heart, Shaun. I hope you find him. Take him our love.”

  “I will,” promised Jack.

  14

  Jack and Jalli slept better than they could have imagined in a strange house. Jack woke to a gentle knock on the sitting room door.

  “You decent?” It was Tom. “Can I come in and make a pot of tea for me and the missus?”

  “Of course,” said Jack, “come in.”

  “We always wake at the same time every morning, even on a Sunday. We usually go to the chapel for ten o’clock, but don’t worry, this morning we’ll see you off from the station.”

  “No need to do that,” responded Jack, driving sleep from his brain, “we’ll see ourselves off. No hassle. No, you go to church – they’ll miss you.”

  “No. Think no more about it. Would you like a cuppa tea?”

  “Please.”

  After Tom left the room, Jack got dressed as quickly as he could and folded the sheets that Marge had given him. He washed in the sink, and then shaved – all the time keeping an ear open for the others. He was soon ready for company. He had just finished combing his hair neatly in the mirror over the fireplace, when the tousled head of Jalli appeared round the door. She was still half asleep. “How’s Mr. Jack Smitt this morning?” she inquired.

  “All the better for seeing you!” He pulled her into the room and gave her a passionate kiss. As she came to, Jalli struggled free with:

  “Jack! They might see us.”

  “But they are not here!” He made to kiss her again, but Jalli stepped back.

  “No, listen Jack. They usually go to church on Sundays. I told Marge that we will go with them. Hope that’s OK… The train to Leeds does not take long. Marge said about an hour and a half… OK, Jack?”

  “We’ll be strangers in their church. And in church they might ask lots of questions.”

  “So
. We’re in Newcastle for the weekend. You don’t have to say any more than that. We’ll ask Marge and Tom not to say anything about your dad. OK?”

  “Well, OK if you want to… But I can’t remember ever going to a church service, Jalli.”

  “Neither have I. Not in England. That’s why I want to see what happens. You scared? The boy who can take on an army is scared to go to church?”

  “No! Yes… well, no, not exactly scared. Uncomfortable. You never know what they’re going to be like in a church. They judge you in a church. They might think I’m rather scruffy. You can’t go to church in jeans, and I haven’t got anything else.”

  “Of course ye can!” This was Tom coming through to start the breakfast. “All the young people in the church wear what you are wearing. Don’t take any notice of us old ‘ens. Chapel has changed since I was a lad. It isn’t stiff and starchy like it used to be. Well, ours isn’t. Ministers these days are quite different. Ours is quite ‘trendy’ I suppose you would call it. We like her.”

  “Her?” asked Jack rather surprised. He had not heard of a female minister before.

  “Yes, Alice is her name. You are behind the times if you think they are all men. In fact women ministers are getting quite common these days. Unless you’re Roman Catholic of course.”

  “Roman Catholic?” quizzed Jalli.

  Jalli wanted to know about all the different churches. So over breakfast Marge gave a potted history of the Reformation.

  “But we all get along together quite fine these days, at least around here. We call it ‘Churches Together’. Our church is not in this area though. We still go back to where Marge and I grew up. We met in that chapel… we’ll leave just after nine and catch the bus so if you’re coming you’d better make sure you’re ready.”

  “I’m all ready,” replied Jack. Jalli gave him a playful scowl that turned into a smile and took off upstairs.

  *

  The chapel turned out to be quite an experience for them both. They sat with Tom and Marge and were introduced to their friends among the older members of the congregation who sat around them. There was, however, a group of about eight teenagers sitting together near the front who kept turning round to look at them. The service began with a hymn quite unlike Jack was expecting. They projected the words on a screen. It was quite a catchy tune that the young people obviously liked. “Be Not Afraid” it was called. The music came from a keyboard situated to one side and was amplified through a speaker system. There was an organ, or at least organ pipes, but it wasn’t in use. Neither Jack, nor Jalli of course, knew any of the prayers either. Even the “Lord’s Prayer” used contemporary words – all the “thys” and “thous” had gone.

  The reading Jack did recognise. It was the one about a good Samaritan. (The one where muggers had left a man for dead. Some religious people walked by pretending not to notice but a traveller from an enemy tribe – the Good Samaritan – stopped and put him on his donkey and took him to an inn.) Jack wondered if Marge and Tom had acted like this and had looked after his dad because they found him washed up and in need.

  The minister challenged the congregation to take risks to be good neighbours to strangers. Well, at least, thought Jack, this couple practise what this minister preaches. He wondered how risky it must be to be a minister in that city. As a child he was aware ministers experienced quite a bit of hostility. He knew some who despised priests and religious people because they were a “waste of space”, or “always after your money”, or “there to stop you having a good time” – and even because they reckoned they deemed themselves to be a cut above everyone else. But most of the ones Jack had come across as a teenager didn’t seem that stuck up. Certainly, this lady didn’t appear to be. In fact, he could imagine her looking after an injured man like in the parable. Some of his school mates would have said that that was stupid, but you had to hand it to people that did that. Jack asked himself if he would have stopped on the desert road with muggers about? A month ago there would have been no doubt of the answer. He would have had nothing to do with anyone who had nothing to do with him. After Tolfanland he had begun to think differently.

  But what was it that made people want to take risks? He wondered if it was only about wanting to help people, and he reflected on his own idea of “working with children”. Would that be taking risks? He hadn’t thought about it like that.

  *

  After the service they were immediately surrounded by the young people. They were full of questions. Had they come to live in Newcastle? Were they going to join the church and come regularly? Would they like to come to the mid-week club? Were they Christians? Jalli was quite up for this. She was in her element because they were behaving exactly like the young people back home a universe away in Wanulka. No, she said, she wasn’t a Christian because there were no Christians where she came from.

  “What is important for a Christian?” she asked.

  “Christians believe that God made the world and the whole universe and everything in it,” said one.

  “We believe we should love one another and look after the people in need,” replied another.

  “… because God gave himself for us in Jesus… because he loves us so much,” chimed in a young girl with long blond hair that reminded Jack of a character in Harry Potter.

  “Where does God live?” asked Jalli.

  “In heaven,” declared one of the younger ones.

  “… and in us,” said the minister, as she came across to join the group.

  “That is exactly what our Scriptures teach,” responded Jalli.

  “So where is it you come from?”

  “Er… Jalli doesn’t come from this world,” explained Jack, “she’s an alien!”

  They all thought that a really good joke and were still laughing when the biscuits arrived. “Save the jammy dodger for the alien!” said one. “It says in the bible that you have to look after aliens! Do you folk want tea or coffee – or do aliens like lemonade?”

  “Are you an alien?” asked one of the boys of Jack.

  “No,” assured Jack.

  “What’s your team then?”

  “That’s a dangerous question!” he replied. “We don’t have a local team unless you count Persham Wanderers.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Exactly. I follow West Ham on the telly. I knew someone once who lived near Upton Park.”

  “So you know how to suffer too, like us, Geordies. Never quite there, and with frequent excursions into the Championship.”

  The conversion had now moved well and firmly into Jack’s territory. The minister and some of the girls moved off.

  “So are you coming again?” one of the girls asked Jalli.

  “I don’t think so,” interjected the minister coming back across with Marge and Tom.

  “They have to take a train to Leeds today. Jalli, would you and… er…”

  “Jack,” put in Jalli.

  “… like a quick sandwich at the Manse? Then I’ll run you into Newcastle Central on my way to the hospital to see a few people. Trains for Leeds are roughly every hour.”

  “Thank you,” said Jalli. “But look, you’ve all been so kind already.”

  “But you’ve got to come back to Newcastle – even if you’re Hammers supporters,” said one young lad who had really taken to Jack.

  “Even if we’re what?” asked Jalli.

  “Football,” replied Jack. Jalli rolled her eyes in mock horror. But she was beginning to see that football could break down barriers for boys where perhaps traditional religion could not.

  *

  An hour and a half later, Jack and Jalli shuffled down the carriage of their second train in two days. “I don’t think I have found so much welcome anywhere in so short a time,” said Jack.

  “Churches can be like that. Churches should be like that!” observed Jalli. “God is certainly in this place. He lives in these people. You can really sense Him.” Jack could almost see what she meant. But since he
had not knowingly met God like Jalli seemed to have done, he still felt on the outside looking in.

  “Don’t think like that.” Jalli was reading his thoughts. She was becoming good at it. She seemed to know everything he was feeling, but he was pleased that someone clearly so wonderful wanted to bother about him. “All you have to do is talk to Him and you’ll find Him inside you too.”

  “Maybe. But don’t hassle me. I’m still coming to terms with the culture shock of a church where they don’t do what I expected them to. There is so much to learn about this God thing. I couldn’t join in anything. I didn’t even know if I should stand or sit most of the time.

  “And I really could not understand half the ‘I believe’ thing they said, so how could I ever believe it. I was not brought up with it. It’s a different world, more different even for me than Wanulka! It’s not really my scene.”

  “But the thing is you don’t have to learn that stuff to be part of God’s people. That’ll be different wherever you go. But God is the same. That’s what I’ve just learned, whatever world you’re in.”

  The train sped through County Durham and then the Yorkshire countryside. Jalli remarked on how it was all so green. They passed through York with it’s towering Minster. Jalli stared at it with huge interest and couldn’t believe it was as old as Jack said he thought it was. At least six hundred years he thought. (But in fact it is much older than that!) It had certainly lasted well.

  “I’d love to go inside it!”

  “One day, perhaps. But you’re not getting me into two places of worship in the same day!” They laughed.

  *

  Soon after that the train was drawing into Leeds Station. People left the train to make their way up to the entrance above. A young couple with a toddler in tow were labouring up the platform with more cases than they could really manage. As the man lifted one of them, the case just burst open strewing clothes and books around him. The couple stood in shock for a moment. As they bent down to pull things together Jack instinctively approached and offered his help. He and Jalli helped hold the case together while the couple found a piece of string and a belt to tie it. Then Jack offered to help carry something to the taxi rank outside the concourse. The couple were very grateful indeed – a “Godsend” they said – and Jack felt really chuffed at being able to help. After they had gone Jack just stood in the concourse deep in thought.