The Advent Calendar

by Steven Croft

  Sam arrived, breathless. He held Col’s staff stretched out over the calm sea, pointing straight at the rising sun. A light breeze touched his cheek and ruffled his hair. He braced himself as, in a moment, the breeze turned into a mighty wind at his back, rushing out over the waters. As it passed over the sea, to Alice’s amazement, the waters separated, towering on either side and a pathway appeared beneath the waves.

  ‘Come on,’ she called over the wind. ‘Now or never.’ Alice ran ahead into the gap left by the waves. A second later, Sam lowered the staff and followed. The path was about as wide as a country lane. The waters were piled up on each side like enormous hedges, each as high as a house. The wind rushed and swirled down the alleyway, keeping the two walls of water apart long enough for them to pass through. The passageway in the sea stretched ahead of them. The path at their feet was made of cobbles, slightly raised above the bed of the sea. Others had been this way before them, Alice thought.

  The crossing took about ten minutes. Neither of them wanted to linger. As they got to the far shore, the waters closed behind them, surged and swirled for a few moments and then were still. Alice and Sam looked back over the great sea. The army had stayed on the far side, the horses pawing the ground in frustration, the riders waving their spears in anger.

  Beneath their feet the cobbled path stretched away to the east.

  Alice took Sam’s hand. ‘Narrow escape,’ she said.

  ‘Is that it, do you think? said Sam.

  ‘Dunno,’ Alice replied, ‘but I think we need to keep moving.’

  The ground rose steeply on this side of the sea. The path wound up the sides of a mountain. Alice led the way. On the right side of the pathway Alice found another stone pillar similar to the first one. They knelt to examine it, hoping for a sign. This one was engraved with large ancient writing with moss growing in the lines of the letters but, whatever it said, it was in a language neither of them could understand. Twenty minutes later, as they climbed higher up the mountain, there was a second pillar, this time to the left, then a third and a fourth.

  Alice and Sam were growing weary by this time. At the sixth and seventh pillar again they stopped, hoping for some kind of sign. Alice longed for something to eat or drink. It was now the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. Both were carrying the jumpers they had needed in the dawn.

  They reached the eighth pillar. Sam again ran his fingers over the surface of the rock. Each inscription was different. Alice’s eyes fell on a large rock a few metres to the left. ‘Sam! Look!’ she called. ‘There is writing on the rock.’

  Amongst the lines of carved letters there were again languages she recognised if not understood. They searched together with their fingers for something they could understand.

  ‘Here,’ said Sam. ‘Strike me!’

  Alice picked up the staff and aimed it at Sam. He leapt back. ‘Not me you great bullfrog. It must mean strike the rock.’

  ‘Sorry, Sam,’ said Alice through parched lips. ‘Tired.’

  She picked up the staff again in both hands and swung it down onto the rock. Instead of bouncing off the hard surface, to her surprise, the rock gave way and the staff sunk in, splitting the stone. Alice leapt back in surprise.

  ‘What happened?’ she croaked.

  ‘Come and see,’ said Sam, bending forward in amazement.

  Bubbling up from the rock in the place where Col’s staff had landed there was a spring of water. It quickly flowed into and filled a small hollow at the base of the great stone. Sam knelt down, cupped the water in his hands and bent to drink. Alice did the same.

  ‘That’s very good,’ she said, ‘very good indeed.’ They both splashed the water on their faces and arms and then drank some more. They sat together on either side of the spring, resting in the midday heat and looking back over the vast plain. With her eyes Alice followed the cobbled path along which they had come back to the edge of the sea and to where it emerged at the other side. It stretched away in the distance as far as she could see across the barren plain.

  ‘Ready to go on?’ asked Sam, looking across at his niece.

  ‘Guess so,’ said Alice, her eyes brightening. ‘There must be something at the top of the mountain.’

  Again they set off with Sam carrying the staff. There were two more rocks on the way to the top – both very old, both with the writing that neither of them could understand. And then, almost at the very top of the mountain, the path ended not at the summit or with another stone pillar but at the mouth of a small cave, just a hollow carved from the rock with a small stone bench set back from the entrance. Near the entrance to the cave was a large bush, the only living thing they had seen on the entire mountain, somehow clinging to the rock, managing just to stay alive.

  ‘Is this it?’ said Alice.

  Sam sensed the danger a moment before Alice, grabbed her arm and pulled her inside the cave. All around them the very ground itself started to shake and tremble. There was first a low roaring coming from the heart of the mountain and then sharp cracks in every direction. Cautiously, Sam peered out of the cave. The whole mountainside was moving. With each large crack a vent opened in the earth and a spurt of steam shot skywards. Back down the path, Sam could see the sides of the mountain were trembling as if half the mountainside was about to break away and tumble into the valley below.

  Neither of them could remember how long the earthquake lasted. To Alice, it seemed as if the ground beneath her had been trembling for hours and hours. She closed her eyes, clung onto the stone bench and hoped it would end. It was all she could do not to run back down the mountain. She gripped Sam’s hand tightly in one hand and Col’s staff in the other. The cave shook and trembled like a boat on a choppy sea.

  At last, gradually, the quake subsided and the earth was still. The mountain was solid again beneath their feet. Sam first then Alice stepped out of the cave and onto the pathway. Both of them looked back down the cobbled path which was still intact despite the tremors. On either side there were new shapes and configurations from the ones they had passed. Suddenly Alice gripped Sam’s arm and pointed to the west.

  ‘Back in the cave, Alice, quickly!’ They retreated as far inside the cave as they could go.

  Rushing in from the west covering the sky like a blanket was a mass of dark clouds: an ominous, threatening storm was approaching. A moment later the rain lashed the ground outside their cave falling to earth like rods of steel and creating instant streams in the gaps between the cobbles. Sam pulled his jumper on. Alice huddled against him for warmth and comfort. The wind at the heart of the storm whistled and roared over their heads circling round and round the cave. There were crashes of thunder overhead every ten seconds or so. Sheet lightning floodlit the horizon. Hailstones the size of peanuts rattled on the roof of the cave, covering the ground with an instant white carpet.

  Sam had been in storms before but nothing like this. Watching the horizon from a distance would have been spectacular: creation’s firework display on a massive canvas. But this was an intense, terrifying exposure to the power at the heart of the natural world. All of his senses were assaulted at once: the chill of the rain and hail; the sound of wind, rain and thunder; the changing tapestry of dark clouds; the smell of his own terror caught in an unknown world with only a small cave as protection against the elements.

  The storm’s ferocity mounted minute by minute. To Alice it seemed as though it would never end and the whole of her life would be caught in its eye. Her teeth shook with the cold and with fear and then, suddenly, there was a massive explosion close to the mouth of the cave which rocked her back further against the wall. In the same instant the wind dropped, the rain ceased, the clouds began to part.

  Again, with great care, Sam and Alice looked out from the cave only to shield their eyes and cower back again into their refuge. Lightning had struck the solitary bush at th
e cave’s mouth and it was ablaze all at once. At five metres the heat burned their faces. The whole bush was on fire. As they watched the flames grew in intensity. But the bush itself was not consumed. At the very heart of the blaze Sam thought he saw something move – perhaps the figure of a man – but his senses had been so assaulted by this point in the journey that he wasn’t sure of anything.

  The fire flamed and burned licking up the water which had fallen on the pathway, warming and drying their clothes after the storm and then, just as suddenly, it was gone leaving the bush itself just as it was before.

  And after the fire there was a calm and a peace stronger and deeper than any that Alice or Sam had ever known. There was no sound at all on the mountain. There was no sound at all in their hearts or minds, just stillness and calm.

  And in the absolute quietness of that moment, in the single instant when everything was at peace, after the earthquake, storm and fire had gone, each of them heard distinctly a still, small voice speaking within them and around them and through them and beyond them. ‘Beloved,’ said the voice. And in hearing what was said, both Alice and Sam knew it to be true.

  They remained as they were, side by side in the cave on the mountainside in the stillness, caught up in the deepest silence. In those moments, time had no meaning. There was no urgency, no hurry; it was enough to be there.

  And then first Alice then Sam stretched and yawned and stood. Sam took up Col’s staff. They held each other’s gaze just for a moment. Together they stepped away from the cave, towards the bush. In the space of three steps, the mountain, the cave, the open sky all melted away and they were back at breakfast time on Friday morning in the front room staring at the calendar.

  Col was there, kneeling as they entered the room. He stood to greet them. ‘Welcome, Alice. Welcome, Sam. Welcome and goodbye!’

  Sam handed over the staff. ‘Thank you, Col,’ said Alice, hugging him. Sam gripped his wrist and shoulder and their eyes met.

  ‘Go well,’ said Col, stepping towards the calendar. ‘You are halfway through the journey. The best is saved till last.’ As Col said the words he seemed to shrink and disappear, drawn into the twelfth door of the calendar, now fully open. Sam and Alice went up close to look at what was there.

  In the wooden doorframe, against a black background, there stood a bush which had burst into flame – a flame which gave warmth and life but which did not consume. Depending how it caught the light, you could sometimes see at the very centre of the flame the figure of a person walking as if through fire.

  13 December

  Seven Christmas cards arrived on Thursday. Alice opened them over her muesli. Two had pictures of Father Christmas and the reindeer. Three featured snowflakes of various sizes. One more showed old-fashioned scenes from Victorian England and one had an elf. Alice ticked off the different categories on a chart on the pin board.

  ‘What’s that?’ said Megs, fishing one of the cards out of a blob of marmalade.

  ‘School,’ said Alice, chewing toast. ‘Project. Mr Davison. Survey of cards for some reason. How many we get, when, what the pictures are. So boo...ring!’

  ‘What’s it for?’ said Megs.

  Alice shrugged. ‘Der!’ she said. ‘Since when did homework have a point?’

  Megs checked the clock. ‘Let’s go!’

  Alice arrived at school to find Suzie and Alex plotting in the playground. Since the beginning of term Suzie had been trying to think of some way of getting their own back on the Newtron. Many a desperate hour had been spent dreaming up foul, impractical schemes.

  So far, none of the traps had been sprung but things were getting worse with Miss Newton by the day. ‘We just have to do it this time,’ she said. ‘She’s setting more homework every night. Everyone hates her guts. She really took it out on Lucas yesterday.’ Suzie had come from a school where the parents paid for their children’s education. She knew how to call the shots.

  Alex nodded, convinced that now was the time. ‘We stand much more chance of getting away with it just before Christmas even if we’re caught.’

  ‘What’s the plan this time?’ said Alice, amazed that Alex was coming out of his geeky shell.

  ‘Fire Hose Plan G – slightly refined,’ said Suzie. ‘The one on the back wall of the lab. I’ve worked out a way to bung up the nozzle with blutac – like a timer. We have double biology all afternoon – right after lunch. So at lunchtime we block the hosepipe with gunge and turn on the tap so the pressure builds up. Halfway through the lesson, with any luck, the pressure builds and kerpow! End of lesson. No one knows who did it. Perfect plan.’

  ‘Genius!’ said Alex.

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Alice. ‘I hate the Newtron just as much as you do but it sounds pretty serious. Don’t they expel you for something like that?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Alice, we’ve been looking for a chance like this for months.’

  ‘Are you going soft or something?’

  The bell went for morning school. Alice shrugged her shoulders and followed her two friends into English. ‘Funny,’ she thought. ‘Two weeks ago I would have done anything to cause a riot in biology.’

  *********

  Sam’s day began badly. Richard was in a foul mood, throwing his weight around, cracking the whip. He stormed out of his office just as Sam was taking off his coat and hat.

  ‘Good of you to turn up…at last,’ Richard said to the whole floor in his most sarcastic voice.

  Behind Richard’s back, Tizzy was signing to Sam to be careful. He missed the cue completely.

  ‘No trouble really,’ said Sam, breezily. ‘Circle line a bit slow.’ Soft giggles ran round the edge of the room. Richard’s eyes flashed dangerously. He hissed at Sam, ‘I need those new sales charts, Brown. Now, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Okayyyyy,’ said Sam, very slowly, turning round. At last he picked up Tizzy’s cue. ‘I’ll pop them in later then.’

  ‘Now, if it’s not too much trouble,’ snapped Richard. Sam thought he almost caught sight of a forked tongue and had to blink and rub his eyes.

  ‘They – er – um – they’re not quite ready,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Not ready?’ Richard said softly, with menace. ‘Not ready?’ he threatened, drawing every eye to him in the room. Everyone tensed themselves preparing for the explosion. ‘Not ready?’ thrusting his face into Sam’s. ‘NOT READY? You useless bloody toe-rag. I want those figures on my desk by lunchtime or it’s a written warning.’ He was now speaking through his teeth but even so he could be heard in every part of the room. ‘I’ve had it up to here with you – and you, Barfield, you simpering, useless pile of...,’ he said, spinning round on Tizzy but not finishing his sentence.

  ‘It may come as a big surprise,’ he shouted as he stormed back to his office, ‘it may come as a very big surprise but this is called a place of work.’ The office door slammed on exactly the right syllable. Bang.

  Silence.

  Sam grimaced at Tizzy and tried to catch her eye. She was bright red, lip quivering, hands shaking. Sam’s own knees felt a bit wobbly. He turned and gave a wave to the room. Everyone was back in their cubicles – all eyes on their computer screens.

  ‘Right, then,’ he said, mainly to himself. ‘Sales figures.’

  The lunchtime talk in the pub was all about Richard and his temper. Sam and Tizzy sat on their own in a quiet corner. Several people came over to speak their mind. ‘The blinding cheek of it,’ said Tizzy, blowing her nose, ‘showing us up like that. I’ve a good mind to complain. He gets away with it time after time.’

  ‘No point,’ said Sam, quietly, hands clasped round his glass. ‘No point letting it get to you. No point complaining. Just got to take it.’

  ‘Hate this place,’ said Tizzy. ‘I’m going to look for something else after Christmas. Had it up to here with him.’
Her head was in her hands.

  ‘Really?’ said Sam. ‘I’d miss you. Best thing about coming to work.’

  ‘Really?’ said Tizzy, eyes brightening just a bit.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Sam, smiling. ‘Mates. Got your outfit sorted for the party?’

  The office do was four days away. ‘Surprise,’ she said, smiling through the tears. ‘Wait and see!’

  *********

  Sam was just coming through the front door when the phone rang.

  ‘Anything?’ asked Alice with her eyebrows as he picked it up.

  Sam shook his head. ‘Hello? Nick. Who do you want? Meggsie. Naughty Nick.’

  ‘Don’t call him that,’ called Megs. ‘Not in front of Alice.’

  ‘He is though,’ said Sam, very loudly, as he handed over the receiver.

  Sam put the kettle on and got out one of his infinite supply of pot noodles. Pot noodles were Sam’s answer to a warm nutritious meal. Alice turned up her nose and hovered at the door eavesdropping on the conversation.

  ‘Nick, I’m sorry, I just don’t think that’s going to work. You can’t just drop this on us at short notice. Yes, I know she’s your daughter as well and it’s Christmas but Alice needs stability just now.’

  Alice looked back at Sam. ‘What are they on about?’

  ‘You by the sound of it,’ said Sam, as Megs slammed down the phone and stormed into the kitchen.

  ‘Your father thinks he can just announce he’s taking you on holiday for Christmas without any consultation, any planning, just like that. I ask you.’

  ‘Where to?’ said Sam, tactlessly.

  Megs gave him one of her looks. ‘Never mind where to. It’s the principle.’

  Alice stamped her foot. ‘Just talk about me as if I’m not here, why don’t you?’ (to Sam). Then, to Megs, coldly: ‘Where to?’

  The doorbell rang and Sam’s phone signalled a text message.

  ‘Talk about it later,’ Megs called over her shoulder. ‘This will be Josie coming to do my hair and help me decide what to wear tomorrow, for the big night out. Sam, you’ll have to entertain yourself.’