The Advent Calendar

by Steven Croft

  Sam gave Josie a hug and then followed Alice into the front room.

  ‘New day, new guide,’ Alice whispered. The new door was visible in the left-hand quadrant, made of tiny logs placed side by side. ‘Come on, they’ll be ages on all that stuff. She’s really nervous. Code.’

  ‘Funny,’ said Sam. ‘One, one, colon, one.’ Alice punched in the numbers and tensed herself for smoke.

  Nothing happened.

  The door on the calendar remained closed.

  ‘Check the numbers,’ said Alice. Sam fished for his phone. ‘One, one, colon, one,’ he said. Alice tried to punch them in again, but the buttons remained in place.

  The doorbell rang. Bother.

  ‘Sam, can you get that?’ Josie called. ‘Megs is in the sink.’

  Sam looked puzzled. ‘Hair washing,’ said Alice, eyes raised to the ceiling.

  ‘’Kay.’ Sam and Alice ignored the doorbell and waited by the calendar.

  It rang again, three times – sustained.

  Josie stamped down the corridor. ‘You deaf?’

  ‘Delivery for Mr Brown,’ said a very deep voice.

  Alice pulled Sam out into the corridor. There in the open doorway was one of the biggest men she had ever seen.

  ‘It’s for you, Sam,’ called Josie over her shoulder, then turned round to find Sam was just behind her. ‘I need to see to Megs.’

  ‘What is it?’ said Sam. ‘I’m rather busy at the moment.’

  ‘I know,’ said the man, and winked.

  Sam looked annoyed and puzzled at the same time. ‘Another time, then,’ he said, closing the door. Alice stopped him just in time.

  ‘Sam. Stop. Don’t you understand? It’s got something to do with the calendar, hasn’t it?’ she said to the man.

  The man nodded and his face lit up with a great smile. ‘There is a parcel here for you.’ He pointed to something very large and wrapped in brown paper.

  ‘Sorry!’ said Sam. ‘Better come in then. Front room, just to the right. We were expecting something else.’

  He and Alice stood back as the man came in through the front door carrying his large rectangular package. He led them into the front room and stood in front of the calendar.

  ‘Who are you?’ said Alice. Now the man was in the room he seemed even bigger. He had to stoop slightly to come through the doorway and the top of his head almost reached the ceiling. Sam’s head came up to his shoulders. The stranger threw back the hood of his coat and Alice saw that his hair was so long it came down to his shoulders and went down his back in the most enormous ponytail. His beard was big and bushy and his skin was burned dark by the sun. Fire danced in his black eyes.

  ‘Good to meet you both at last,’ their guest said, still smiling. His voice was so deep and low that when he spoke everything seemed to shake.

  ‘Are you the new guide?’ said Alice. The man nodded slowly. ‘Fantastic. Are you Father Christmas?’

  He shook his head. ‘Call me JB. But Nicholas sends his love. And I have brought a present.’

  ‘Sorry about the – er – mix up,’ said Sam with a nervous cough. ‘Bit rude.’

  JB smiled again and looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow and a question in his eyes. ‘Here’s the parcel,’ he said in his deep voice.

  Sam took one end of the package and Alice the other. It was about the size of a table top, wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. There were three labels. Alice read them as Sam untied the knots. ‘Fragile. Handle with Care,’ said the first. ‘To Alice Carroll and Sam Brown,’ said the second, ‘Express Delivery.’ And the third read, ‘In case of difficulty call 266 433 555. Mr Gabriel.’

  ‘Sam – it’s from the same place as the calendar. Look.’

  Carefully, they peeled off the three layers of brown paper. Inside was a beautiful, full-length mirror in a carved wooden frame. Alice was right. It matched the calendar exactly in proportions and in the carvings around the edge. ‘It’s beautiful, Sam,’ she said.

  ‘We need to hang it up,’ said Sam, looking at three leather loops at the top.

  ‘Over here,’ said Alice, pointing to the alcove opposite the door to the room. ‘Let me move these things.’

  Carefully she cleared some space. ‘Let me hang it,’ said JB. ‘I’ve done this before.’

  From the vast pockets of his coat came a hammer and three large iron nails. Sam and Alice held the large mirror at the right height. JB drove in the nails with six blows. Together they stepped back to admire the result, with Sam and Alice on either side of JB.

  Alice looked in the mirror expecting to see her own reflection along with Sam and their strange visitor. Instead, the surface of the mirror was dull and misty. It must have steamed up because the room was warm.

  ‘Shall I get a cloth?’ she asked.

  ‘No need,’ said JB, taking something else from his great coat. ‘Follow me!’

  To Alice’s astonishment the huge man was holding an enormous axe. He took two strides forward, stepped into the glass, over the edge of the mirror as if it were a threshold and disappeared on the other side.

  Alice’s jaw dropped. She looked at Sam, who was equally astonished. A second later, JB’s head came back through the misty mirror surface.

  ‘Come on! What are you waiting for?’

  Sam nodded to Alice to go first. It was the strangest feeling. Alice walked up to the mirror, took hold of Sam’s hand, lifted her left foot and put it through. Her leg disappeared up to the knee. It was like climbing through a window frame. There was just a very slight resistance as you passed through the mirror itself – like putting your hand into a thin film of syrup. Her foot touched the soft earth on the other side. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and put in her head and left arm. JB took her hand on the other side and pulled her through. A moment later and Sam had followed.

  They were outside in the middle of a forest in the early morning. It was very cold.

  ‘Take these,’ said JB, producing two brown coats from inside his own. Alice took one. It smelt terrible, as if it had just come from a stable. The rough hairs grazed her neck and legs but once she had it on she was as warm as toast.

  ‘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.