The Kicking Tree (White Gates Adventures Book 1)

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The Kicking Tree (White Gates Adventures Book 1) Page 5

by Trevor Stubbs


  “OK. Good idea.” Jalli was beginning to feel really happy with this boy from another planet. “I’ll start at the top,” she said. Why should she feel entirely comfortable describing her body to this alien boy she had met less than an hour before? Perhaps it was because he was from a different planet – but he was also someone she was beginning to like.

  It felt just the opposite to the way she had felt about that Musula guy. Imagine if she had met him here! But, somehow, she knew she never would.

  “My hair is long,” she began, “down to the middle of my back. It is brown – nothing special. I have greyish blue eyes – two of them – and a large bulgy nose, beneath which is a small mouth and a chin that sticks out too much…”

  “Enough!” chuckled Jack. “Let me try! Your hair is a delicate shade of chestnut brown. Your eyes are a pale blue, and your nose is the nicest nose I have ever seen and… I think you’re altogether quite good looking!”

  “OK! Stop! Praise will get you everywhere!” They were both laughing out loud.

  “This is fun!” said Jack. “OK, we’ve established that our appearance is probably not being translated.”

  “But, if you think I’m as good looking as you say then there must be a ‘Translator’ who is doing something remarkable!”

  Jack wanted to say that if that was the case he didn’t care. He did think she was quite special looking. Better than anyone in his school, he thought. But he felt that he hadn’t known her long enough to tell her all that, so he decided to continue with, “And ‘He’ or ‘She’ has done a really good job on your wings if they are just as I see them!”

  “Wings?” she began then realised it was like the three arms and blue heads. “Yes. Exactly! So I can take off at a moment’s notice.”

  “Go on then!”

  “OK. But there’s one problem. I have to confess the wings are only in your imagination!” and they laughed some more.

  “Seriously…” said Jack. But somehow “being serious” was not easy. Some of it was the nervousness of meeting somebody of the opposite sex for the first time that seemed really nice, and some of it was that being in this place was so far beyond reality. Perhaps it would all vanish as quickly as it appeared. Eventually, Jalli managed to ask, “Do you want to go inside? Inside the cot-tage?”

  “Haven’t you been inside?” asked Jack, a little surprised.

  “It wasn’t my house when I came yesterday, and I felt I shouldn’t. But I did look through the windows.”

  “I wondered at myself feeling so welcome inside. I looked everywhere!” said Jack. “That’s your room up there!”

  “My room!?”

  “Well, I went in. The cottage didn’t mind – and it’s full of your things.”

  “My things?”

  “Yes. Dresses and…things. Girl’s things.”

  “How do you know they are mine?”

  “They just are! You belong here. They are the sort of thing a girl like you would wear. They kind of…fit.”

  “You mean you even checked their size?” Jalli giggled.

  “No. I meant that they suit you. They’re your style. As I was talking to you I knew that you and they belonged together.”

  “I’ve hardly worn a dress in my life!” exclaimed Jalli. “I wouldn’t even know what was my style myself.”

  “But ‘He’ or ‘She’ does. The One who brought us here. There was a nightdress with a sun face on it exactly like the one you are wearing.”

  “So you’ve been into all ‘my’ things!” teased Jalli. “Opened all ‘my’ drawers?”

  “Well. I didn’t know you then, did I? And, somehow you, or ‘He’, or ‘She’, or the cottage, or whoever, was telling me you wouldn’t mind.”

  Jalli was now looking forward to exploring everything herself.

  “Do you have a room?”

  “Kind of. But it’s got two beds in it. There are some nice things in the wardrobe though.”

  “Then I shall poke around in ‘your’ stuff too!” Jalli had never found anyone quite so good to be with as this boy from a different planet. Weird, but nice.

  They crossed the grass to the cottage. “Should we knock?” asked Jalli.

  “No need. I don’t think anyone is here.” But Jalli knocked lightly in any case. Then Jack opened the door. They stepped inside.

  “Are you sure this is OK?” Jalli hesitated.

  “The cottage tells you what it wants you to do. Yesterday it drew me into it. Honestly. I was worried like you at first, but as I went I kind of felt I should be here, and should be looking around. I didn’t touch a thing. Just opened doors and cupboards and looked. Come on, I’ll show you around. I started with this wonderful dining room.”

  They went round the downstairs rooms in the same way that Jack had done the day before. They kept telling each other what an absolutely beautiful house it was.

  “But who looks after it?” queried Jalli. “Someone must clean it and dust it. Everything is so neat and tidy too.”

  “Yes. I keep wondering that. It’s so ‘homely’.”

  “Exactly. This has people attending to everything and loving it.”

  Going upstairs, Jack motioned to the first door on the left. “This is your room!”

  “Don’t keep saying that! I’ve never been here before. It can’t be mine.”

  They stepped inside and were enveloped in a huge sense of happiness. Jalli was not prepared for it, and it even surprised Jack, despite his being so impressed the day before.

  “Wow!” he uttered.

  Jalli just stood open mouthed for a full ten seconds. “Do you feel what I feel!?”

  “It’s exactly like I said. Only today it’s even more powerful.”

  “This is a room that would make you feel happy no matter how sad you are. It is a place where hurts can be made better,” contemplated Jalli out loud.

  For at least a minute they surveyed the room from just inside the threshold, standing together in some kind of trance.

  Jack broke the silence and took Jalli’s hand, “Come over here. Open the wardrobe and look at the things.”

  Jalli, still stunned by the power of this room over her, crossed softly with him to the long wooden wardrobe that stood opposite the bed. She opened it. It contained a rail of dresses that all seemed so beautiful. There were bright colours, and subtler ones with dainty lace. The more practical things were at one end. There were shoes too. Jack had not touched anything, but Jalli was suddenly free of all her inhibitions and was in among them. Delighting at one, and then another. Taking them off the rail and holding them up, admiring their line and the cut and the stitching.

  “These are all so beautiful,” she cried. “I’ve never seen so many things I like together in one place!” It was a veritable treasure-trove.

  “You see,” explained Jack as Jalli began to examine the drawers, “I told you. This room, and the things in it, all match you. You fit. I knew you would like the stuff. And you…you know what… you are the most perfect girl I have ever met!” What was he saying? Fancy saying that! It was true but he had had no intention of saying so! Whatever would she think of him? So he quickly continued, “This is the most perfect place I have even been in…If you want to try anything on I’ll wait downstairs.”

  Then he wished he had said “outside the room” instead of downstairs so she could have opened the door and let him see her wearing those pretty dresses! He was just working out how he might still manage that, when Jalli blurted out a resounding, “No!” She had suddenly become self conscious. All this was happening far too fast. The fact that she didn’t want any of it to stop was probably what frightened her the most. What was she doing? If somebody this morning had told her that she would be exploring a bedroom with a boy possibly from a different planet with one sun and a strange language, she would never have believed them! And here she was inside a strange house with…

  “Look, these are not my things. They are not mine, even to touch let alone try on! How could I have
even come in here? Come on, we really ought to leave!”

  For a second this took Jack by surprise, but he quickly recovered.

  “Hold on! You’re… you’re probably right,” he stuttered searching for the words, “your parents would probably be horrified if they knew their well-brought-up daughter was with a perfect stranger in a bedroom in an empty house. But… but I do think we were invited in in some way. We both felt it, didn’t we? It came from outside of us. Just like all these amazing things. And – this might sound silly – but to rush out seems almost as rude as being too curious.”

  Jalli relaxed. “You’re right,” she said. “I think we should… should say, ‘Thank you’ or something. I mean to the house, or Whoever, before we leave.”

  Jack had not been the kind of person who had said many “Thank yous” and this speech made him feel a bit awkward. They stood still together in the doorway, looking into the room. Neither spoke.

  “Are you going to do it, or shall I?” asked Jalli after the silence became profound. But before Jack could answer, Jalli spoke up. “Thank you, house, ‘cot-tage’, for being so kind to us. We are very sorry if we have done things we shouldn’t have. You’ve been so welcoming to us and made us feel so ‘at home’. Everything is so lovely here, and you’ve made us very, very happy. Thank you!”

  And the odd thing was that the room, the cottage, and everything seemed to smile on them in acknowledgement. Especially the face on the appliqué sun – Jallaxa? – on the nightdress, that Jalli had laid on the bed and had not put away!

  They shut the bedroom door behind them and descended the stairs. Outside they stood on the grass looking back at the cottage.

  “It doesn’t look too unhappy with us,” remarked Jack. “You really said a lovely thank you.”

  “It was a bit like praying,” explained Jalli.

  “I can’t remember ever praying. I guess I would feel a bit silly talking to someone out there who might or might not exist… and if anyone caught me, I’d feel a right idiot.”

  “Oh, He exists alright,” said Jalli emphatically, “Grandma would never have come through without Him. And you needn’t feel a ‘right’ anything if you wanted to pray when I’m around. I do it all the time.”

  “Does He answer your prayers?”

  “Well I don’t just ask Him things, or talk to Him when I want something. It’s more like talking to Him because He’s there. Sometimes He is a She – He/She keeps changing, but at the same time is always the same. Do you want to say anything to God about anything now?”

  Jack was about to say, “Perhaps another time,” when Jalli began saying, “Thank you, Lord God, for this place and, whoever owns it and tends it. Sorry if we have trespassed. And… please, can we come back again one day? Oh, and thank you for Jack and bless him. Amen.”

  “That was lovely, Jalli. I want to ask you so many things. You must tell me about your grandma and what happened to her.”

  “One day, perhaps. But I think it’s time for me to leave now.”

  “Yes. I suppose so. But you will come back here won’t you?”

  “If you want me too. When?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “No. I have an essay to write. I am already too late to go to school today.”

  “You go to school?”

  “Only for another fourteen days and then I finish for good. This is my last essay. If I get good marks in it I will have enough to go on studying.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Give me four days. I will come back on Saturday. The same time as today.”

  Jack took Jalli’s hand. “I hope the white gates will still be there!”

  “So do I! But if not, it’s been a wonderful time.” She scanned the scene. “Thank you garden, thank you cot-tage,” and meeting Jack’s eyes added, “and thank you Jack Smitt!” and she squeezed his hand, tiptoed towards her white gate, picked up her shoes, waved a smile and was gone!

  “Wow!” cried Jack. “Unreal!”

  *

  During the next three days Jack worked hard. He researched his options thoroughly and decided he could be a teacher of children with disabilities. He felt he wanted to make a difference to kids with a rotten start – like himself, only worse. He was a model son for the first time in his life. (His mother wondered if he was “sickening for something”). And, in passing, he even thought about apologising to his “kicking tree”. Amazing… and how stupid! What had got into him? Here he was thinking about talking to a bush! Yes, he had been with a girl who had spoken to a cottage. But that was different. Life had suddenly become really good, and he liked being Jack Smith, or even Jack Smitt!

  As for Jalli the last biology essay on “The role of the worm and soil production and maintenance” was the hardest to write because she simply couldn’t concentrate. Mr. Bandi spotted her in the library. He was amazed she had not already handed anything in. Jalli gave excuses like the books were out, which was not entirely untrue, but she said nothing of her adventures. Her wise biology teacher was not fooled though. Jalli’s expressive features betrayed something different.

  “Holiday can’t come soon enough?” he asked.

  “Yes… I mean no!”

  “Don’t let yourself down on this last effort, Jalli.”

  “No Mr. Bandi, of course not! I’m doing it right now.” And, to herself, “That is when I’m not being interrupted!” She smiled a Jalli smile, and the teacher replied.

  “Fine. I’ll leave you to it. I won’t bother you any more.”

  “I swear,” mused Jalli as the teacher breezed out of the door, “he knows everything I’m thinking. He’s guessed I’m up to something.”

  She could almost hear him say, “Now, Miss Rarga, tell me about this boy you met yesterday. What’s so special about him?” As she studied a response it took her into another round of contemplation on what exactly it was about Jack that had done this to her.

  Five minutes later she realised she had not read or written a single word since Mr. Bandi had “left her to it”.

  “Pull yourself together, Jalli Rarga,” she ordered herself. “This just will not do!” She thought of her teacher and his disappointment if this essay didn’t turn out right, not to mention that of her grandma. Jack had said that he had just left his school and done well. So she had no choice. For everyone’s sake the worms had to be tackled! And actually, they were quite interesting. She caught herself thinking, “I wonder what a worm feels when it meets another worm for the first time?… Jalli Rarga! Stop it!”

  Somehow the essay got written, and she handed it in on Friday afternoon. “Great,” said Mr. Bandi. “Looks as if I shall be working over the weekend,” he teased.

  “Thanks, Mr. Bandi.” She would miss this teacher. Lessons were done with. Just the results and the organising of what happens after the long holiday. The local university would confirm that she had a place on their biology course – so long as her “worms” did not fall below forty percent!

  6

  Saturday came. In two households in two galaxies separated by untold dimensions of space-time, two young people eagerly made for the bathroom! And a mother and a grandmother were both thinking the same thing. Their young people had met someone special. This could be the only explanation for them acting so strangely.

  “I’ll be out all day, Mum,” sputtered Jack over his toast. “Can I take something to eat? A banana or something.”

  “I’ll make you some sandwiches. Where are you off to?” Of course she was going to ask him, and he had his answer ready.

  “I’m off to St Paul’s Middle School. There’s a garden project that I want to join in with. I’m meeting up with someone. I might not be back early.”

  “Well, ring me and tell me where you are if you’re going to be late. You have got some credit on that phone of yours?” Jack checked his rather sad looking mobile. The truth was he hardly ever used it because, for the most part, no-one ever rang him and he didn’t ring them. To his relief it had some char
ge in it, and he knew he must have plenty of credit. “I promise I will phone you Mum. I said I’d be at the school at a quarter to ten.” He did not want to be late. He had worked it out. He would go in his normal things, but he would put his new T-shirt and clean trousers in his bag and change when he got there. If he were early he would have a minute to do that before Jalli arrived. As he left Jack did not even notice the kicking tree. The little green shoots had now started reaching for the sky, and the deeper green leaves were opening out.

  *

  Jalli took the bus. She had her newest jeans on and a long, floaty, deep red and brown top. It was the most feminine thing she had, apart from the dress that she had worn to a friend’s sister’s wedding the previous year and never had occasion to wear since. “I should like to wear pretty things sometimes,” she thought. But if no-one else wore them how could she? Anyway she felt good in the things she had chosen today, and glowed.

  She had told Grandma she was meeting a friend and they were exploring a garden. Biology stuff. Grandma gave her a packed lunch that included little rolls of bread, fruits and a home-baked Wanulka pie she would definitely hide at the bottom of her canvas shoulder bag. It would not fit into the atmosphere of the house, or “cot-tage” she must say.

  The bus seemed to take a long time that day. It only just got going before it was in another traffic queue. Jalli checked her phone. Nevertheless, she still had plenty of time and she didn’t want to be early. She had thought about it, and decided that the right time was about one minute after ten. At last she stepped lightly from the bus a block away from the Municipal Park. She had fifteen minutes to consume, so she decided to walk slowly around the block and look into a few shop windows.

  Ten minutes later she was nearing the street in which she would, she hoped, spot the little white gate. She was so intent on looking to the corner from which she would be able to see it, that she failed to notice Maik Musula standing in her path. She walked straight into him!

 

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