The Advent Calendar

by Steven Croft

  The creature turned its hooded face to look directly at Alice and at Sam. They saw only the deepest blackness within. Alice gagged at the smell.

  ‘All are ours,’ it hissed. ‘One day you will come to us. This scythe or one like it will cut the cord of life. The end of everything is death.’

  The last word hung in the air as the reaper turned and continued its malodorous passage through the corridor and away to one of the wards. Alice and Sam felt a deep chill settle in their bones.

  ‘Can’t you stop it?’ said Sam.

  ‘There is only one answer,’ said Caspar. ‘Come, our Lady awaits.’

  They moved more quickly now down towards the main exit. Alice saw two more reapers making their way down the corridor in the distance. They passed a group of three huddled together outside a single doorway. ‘The Morgue,’ Mel explained. Outside the main doors there were a group of three or four waiting, it seemed, for some signal before entering the building.

  They crossed the courtyard to a wide open space beyond the car park. A sleek, white and silver helicopter was waiting on the launch pad. As he saw them approach, Bal started the engines and the rotors began to turn. Mel and Caspar guided Sam and Alice underneath the rotors and helped them climb on board, before strapping them into the passenger seats.

  Bal’s voice came through the headsets in their safety helmets. ‘All aboard?’ he asked. Sam and Alice put their thumbs up. The helicopter took off and began to move away towards the south.

  ‘Look down and to the right,’ said Bal. ‘Use the binoculars. This is what we want you to see.’

  Sam and Alice picked up the two large pairs of binoculars in lockers under their seats and scanned the horizon. It took Alice a few moments to see it clearly but once she saw it, the vision never left her. Stretching out across the towns and cities and villages – everywhere where people lived – was something like a blanket of thick black tar which hasn’t set. It lay across the roofs of the houses, it stretched across the roads, it covered the office blocks and factories, even the schools and the hospitals. It covered the and choking the very life out of every community.

  ‘What is it?’ called Sam.

  ‘The shroud of death,’ came Bal’s chill voice through their earpieces. ‘It covers the whole earth. However much you do not like to talk about it, it remains a terrible reality. Death steals our loved ones and casts its long shadow forward over every life. In the end, it takes us all and ruins all we love. It is heaven’s enemy.’

  Alice shuddered again and made herself look. ‘Why are you showing us this? How can we bear it?’

  ‘We are showing you what you already know,’ said Bal. ‘But we must show you clearly so that you can appreciate and understand what has been done. Hold tight.’

  The helicopter banked sharply up to the right, forcing Alice and Sam back into their seats. As they climbed higher, both of them continued to stare through their binoculars, surveying the black, sticky blanket which embraced all of human living. Alice found as she focused the lenses that she caught sight of rapidly moving grey specks: the reapers going about their sad business. They passed at lightning speed over countries and whole continents. The whole world over it was the same.

  Up ahead of them, suddenly, a mountain rose high above the plains. It stood out brightly against the skyline: a haze of greens, browns, yellows and blues reflected from the sky in numerous pools of water. Only over this mountain was there no grey shroud.

  Bal brought the helicopter down in a clearing on the lower slopes and cut the engines. Caspar undid Alice’s and Sam’s seatbelts and helped them climb out of the helicopter. The air was sharp and fresh after the hospital and the flight. Sam took deep breaths. Mel pointed to a path which led up the hillside. ‘Our Lady waits.’

  Sam and Alice set off, once more leaving their escorts behind them, enjoying the bright sunshine, the flowers and the birdsong. They walked uphill for ten minutes, perhaps more, with the path before them clearly marked. The shadows which had settled within them in the hospital corridors began to fade away.

  The path ended in a garden. To Alice’s great delight, roaming freely in the garden were six stately peacocks with their mates, their plumage on full display with a thousand eyes dancing on their tails. They were tame and came to greet them, curious at the intrusion, then went about their business, lighting the space with colour and beauty.

  In the centre of the garden was what looked like a small cave cut into the rock. A large stone had been rolled away from the entrance. There beside the empty cave, on a simple wooden bench, sat Mary: still brimming with hope and life but now, Alice thought, a little older and a little sadder than when they saw her last, yet still at peace. She stood to greet them. They bowed low before she took their hands.

  ‘Come,’ said Mary. ‘Sit and eat. Refresh yourselves.’

  She sat them on the bench and set before them a wicker basket filled with different fruits from the garden. Sam chose a pear; Alice selected some strawberries and a plum. The tastes were fresh and sweet like the air on the mountain and restored them a little more. One of the peacocks came and stood beside them. Alice offered him a strawberry and he took it in his beak.

  Mary knelt beside them as they ate and waited quietly for them to finish.

  ‘And now,’ she said, with joy, rising up and shaking the grass from her skirts, ‘now you must listen again to my song.’

  She stepped away from them and stood in front of the stone which had been rolled away, lifted her arms to heaven and began to sing. As she sang, she moved in the most stately dance.

  The first part of the song spoke once more of a mother’s love and pride in her son. The verses told of a young man, strong and well loved, following his father’s trade, a carpenter. They spoke of the call of God to fulfil all that he was meant to be, of travelling and friendships. Mary sang of water changed to wine, of lives mended and renewed, of new hope for the poor, of the hungry being fed. Alice saw the flashing wings of a dove, baskets of food in abundance, a great catch of fish. The music filled Sam’s heart with hope. He felt the call to leave everything, to follow.

  Then, gradually, the song’s tone changed and the dance changed with it. Mary’s voice picked out and followed now the minor keys which had been present from the beginning. She sang of jealousy and conflict. She sang of challenge which turned to hate, of a call to suffering and death. With the notes now clashing, Alice felt the anguish of betrayal and capture, torture and trial, and Sam’s mind was stirred to turmoil by images of agony and death. Through it all, the song spoke of suffering, yet of a mother’s love sustained and sustaining through every time of trial.

  The moment of death was followed by silence, then a soft, tender lament. They washed his body and covered it with spices, and laid him in a tomb, a cave.

  The song spoke of three days of waiting, watching, hoping, the longest days, and then the music burst once more to life and as she sang, Mary danced for joy, weaving in and out of the trees, creating circles and patterns and always at the centre was the empty tomb. The great hymn spoke now of death defeated once and for all, of new life given and available to all, of love and friendship which endures for ever, of an abundance of joy and laughter and plenty. And now both Sam and Alice saw the same picture in the song: they saw the great sticky shroud of death which lay over all the earth defeated, rolled back, cleansed and swallowed up in the new life of Mary’s son and gone for ever.

  The hymn of triumph turned into a song of praise. Sam and Alice could not help but stand and join in as best they could. They were no longer watching and listening only but drawn to share again in heaven’s song:

  ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.

  Where, O death, is your victory?

  Where, O death, is your sting?’

  As the song came to its end there was silence and rest. Then Mary embraced them both
. ‘It was necessary to see the terror of death so that you can understand the wonder of life.’

  They nodded, breathless but at peace.

  Mel carried a tired Alice back down the pathway to the helicopter. Both she and Sam slept on the journey back. Without knowing how or where, they transferred again to the Range Rover and woke again as they arrived home.

  Sam unlocked the door and Alice pushed past him into the front room. Together they looked once more at the calendar. The twenty-first door was open now. In the background, Alice saw a beautiful sunlit garden. In the foreground, laid across the door frame, was a brightly coloured feather taken from a peacock’s tail.

  22 December

  Alice woke late on Saturday, realised what day it was and grumpily turned over in the bed. Nick and Janie were taking her out today as a Christmas treat. She was not looking forward to it.

  Alice knew that Nick’s original suggestion had been to take her away for a holiday over Christmas. To her great relief, Megs had vetoed the idea. She’d found her weekly phone calls to her dad a bit easier over the last two weeks. At least he had rung. At least he was making the effort to take her out for the day. In spite of all that was happening with Grandad, Megs was a lot happier than she was in November.

  ‘The trouble is,’ Alice said to no one in particular, ‘I think I can learn not to mind about the little things. But it’s really hard to let go of what he did to Mum. Leaving us. Making us move house.’

  ‘Alice! Rise and shine! They’ll be here at eleven!’

  ‘Coming, Mum.’

  Despite herself, Alice found she took a little extra care with her appearance and picked out her best jeans and sweatshirt. Even so, Megs gave her a thorough inspection when she came downstairs. Megs herself was up to her armpits in advance cooking for Christmas. The kitchen was full of steam and wonderful smells. There were two dozen mince pies on wire cooling racks. Megs was stirring her famous pineapple stuffing for the turkey: a family tradition and an annual treat.

  Sam was at the kitchen table, doing his best to distract Megs so he could steal a mince pie.

  Alice poured out her muesli and sat down next to Sam. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go today,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘I’d much rather be at home getting ready.’

  ‘I think it’s starting to snow,’ said Sam. As Megs looked out of the window he grabbed a mince pie and burnt his fingers as he hid it behind his folded arms. ‘Where are you going anyway?’

  The snow was just beginning. ‘Coo!’ said Megs. ‘I hope you’ll be OK going out in this.’

  ‘We’re going out for Christmas lunch in a restaurant,’ said Alice. ‘Just the three of us.’ She turned up her nose. ‘Then shopping so I can pick out some new clothes.’

  ‘Spend lots!’ said Megs. She noticed the mince pie was missing and took a string bag of sprouts from the vegetable basket and tossed it across to Sam.

  ‘You need to earn your snacks, Sam. Peel!’

  ‘Got to go in five minutes, sis. Lunch with Josie’s mum and dad, remember?’ He pulled a face.

  ‘How many for Christmas lunch now, Mum?’

  ‘The three of us,’ said Megs. ‘Mum and Dad, Josie and – erm – I’ve kind of invited Andrew. Is that OK? He was going to be on his own.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Alice. ‘Seven. Will they all bring presents?’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘That’ll be your dad. You let him in.’

  Despite herself, Megs straightened her hair and glanced in the kitchen mirror. ‘You look fine, sis,’ said Sam.

  Alice brought Nick and Janie into the kitchen. They were smartly dressed today and Alice thought everyone was determined to be on their best behaviour. Nick was wearing a dark suit and an open-necked white shirt. Janie was wearing a short white leather skirt and bright red top. The grown-ups all shook hands. Sam and Janie hadn’t met before.

  ‘Time for a coffee?’ said Megs in the kind of voice which hoped the answer would be no.

  ‘We probably need to get going in a few minutes, if that’s OK?’ said Nick.

  ‘These are for you, Alice,’ said Janie, holding out a carrier bag full of brightly wrapped presents.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll put them under the tree. Come and look at the Advent Calendar.’

  Everyone trooped into the front room. Alice moved back so Janie and Nick could see.

  ‘Never seen anything like that,’ said Janie. ‘The pictures are really detailed. What are these buttons on the bottom?’

  ‘It’s ever so good,’ said Megs. ‘Every day a new code comes through to Sam’s mobile. Alice’s phone broke in half-term. Alice punches in the number and the door opens by itself.’

  ‘Let’s see it then,’ said Nick.

  ‘Can’t just now,’ said Sam a bit defensively. ‘They come at a different time each day.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem to have much to do with Christmas,’ said Nick. ‘Where are the wise men and the shepherds? Load of mumbo-jumbo anyway, if you ask me. Let’s go.’

  Alice counted to ten to calm herself down as Megs wrapped her in a big hug. ‘Love you’ she said.

  ‘Be good,’ said Megs in reply.

  Nick had a new sports car. Megs tried not to think of how much it might have cost as he drove away. For Alice, it was nothing like as comfortable as the limo or the black Range Rover.

  Lunch in the posh restaurant was really very nice and, despite herself, Alice enjoyed the first part of the day. Janie and Nick talked about their new house and their last holiday and their next holiday. They were flying to New York on Christmas Day because the fares were so reasonable. Alice listened quietly and didn’t say too much. Janie was trying too hard to be nice and Nick was showing off but the food was excellent.

  ‘So what are you doing over Christmas, Alice?’ said Janie. ‘Lots of presents?’

  ‘We’ll go to church tomorrow,’ said Alice. ‘There’s a carol service at the one round the corner. I’ve never been to church at Christmas before.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Janie. ‘I wonder what it’s like.’

  ‘Boring claptrap, if you ask me,’ said Nick. ‘I don’t want any daughter of mine getting mixed up in that nonsense.’

  ‘What’s happening on Christmas Day?’ asked Janie, sensing the chill in the air.

  ‘There are seven of us for Christmas dinner,’ said Alice, without thinking. ‘Grandad’s been really poorly so he and Grandma are coming to stay. Josie is coming – that’s Sam’s girlfriend. She’s expecting twins.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Nick. ‘That’s only six, Alice.’

  ‘Andrew’s coming as well. He’s the PE teacher at my school. He and Mum have been out on a couple of dates.’

  Alice looked straight at Nick as she said this and, as she hoped, she saw him flinch. ‘Ha!’ she thought. ‘Stick that in your combat trousers.’

  ‘All finished?’ said Janie, filling the awkward silence. ‘Let’s hit the shops.’

  **********

  Sam was looking forward to meeting Josie’s parents even less than Alice was looking forward to seeing Nick and Janie. He’d hardly met them before and now he was about to become part of the family.

  He stood on the doorstep hopping from foot to foot. In one hand he clutched a bunch of flowers from the filling station and in the other a bottle of wine. Josie had told him there had been an almighty bust-up on Friday night.

  She answered the door. ‘Come in,’ she said, giving him a kiss. Mum and Dad are in the kitchen.’

  ‘Mrs Liddell, Mr Liddell, good to see you!’ Sam smiled his most charming smile.

  Mrs Liddell was attending to the gravy and nodded to the pan in acknowledgement. At least she doesn’t wear her coat at home, Sam thought to himself

  ‘Roger and Dorothy,’ said Josie’s dad, ho
lding out a big hand. He was a retired police sergeant and looked the part. ‘Come on through, er, Sam. Lunch isn’t quite ready. Fruit juice?’

  ‘Please,’ said Sam.

  The four of them settled on the sofas in the front room. There was a bit of a pause as Roger supplied everyone with a soft drink. Then even more of a pause as they took a first sip.

  ‘It has all been a bit of a shock,’ said Dorothy to the fire.

  ‘Now, Dorothy,’ said Roger. ‘We agreed I would handle this. What we want to say, Sam and Josie, is that we’re delighted that Josie has found someone she really loves and that she wants to settle down.’

  ‘I just wish it hadn’t been so sudden!’ said Dorothy, speaking to the mantelpiece.

  ‘So we want to welcome you as part of the family, Sam, very warmly.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Sam, meaning it.

  ‘It’s all a bit back to front though,’ said Dorothy, looking at the television.

  ‘We’re also pleased,’ said Roger, looking hard at his wife, ‘we’re also very pleased that we’re going to be grandparents at long last.’

  Josie’s eyebrows shot up a little at this point but she kept her lips tightly shut.

  ‘Twins!’ said Dorothy to the lampstand, a first hint of enthusiasm in her voice.

  ‘Things have happened a bit in the wrong order, we have to admit that,’ said Roger. ‘Josie did seem upset earlier in the year when you – you know.’

  ‘Dad!’ said Josie.

  ‘But she does seem very fond of you and well, we’re delighted. Aren’t we, Dorothy?’

  Dorothy smiled weakly and nodded towards the back garden. ‘Twins,’ she said.

  ‘The thing is,’ said Roger, looking slightly awkward now, ‘the thing is, Dorothy and I are very committed to our church, especially Dorothy. We’ve lots of friends there. We’ve tried hard to bring up Josie to follow our faith.’

  ‘She was never interested,’ said Dorothy. ‘Not since she was young.’

  ‘Now, Dorothy!’ said Roger. ‘This isn’t the time.’ He turned back to Sam.